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THF,

EDINBURGH ENCYCLOPiEDIA,

DAVID BRKW^TEU, L. L. D. F. R. S.

ffl2^ith tlif assistance of
GIWTIiEOTEW EMIWEWT IN SCIEIVCE AIVD LITERATURE.

THE

FIRST AMERICAN EDITION,

(KorretteU anti CmiJroSjeTJ bs the atJTiitSon of numrrous articles relatfbe to

THE INSTITUTIONS OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT,

ITS GEOGRAPHY BIOGRAPHY, CIVIL AND NATIONAL HISTORY, AND TO VARIOUS DISCOVERIES IN

SCIENCE AND THE ARTS.

IN EIGHTEEN VOLUMES.

Vol. IX.

J^htlatrcliJliia ;
PUBLISHED BY JOSEPH AND EDWARD PARKER.

1832.

William Brown, Printer.

THE AMERICAN EDITION

OF THE NEW

EDINBURGH ENCTCLOPiEBIA.

FALKIRK.

FALKIRK, is ttie principal town of the eastern dis-
trict of Stirlingshire, and is beaiUifuily situated on an
eminence above the Carse and the Frith of Forth. The
whole scenery of the river Forth is delightful, and that
part of it which is seen from Falkirk is rich as well as di-
versified, and never fails to captivate and astonish stran-
gers. Taking Falkirk for a centre, you are presented to-
wards the north with a prospect in the form of aii amphi-
theatre, which extends every way to the distance of ten or
twelve miles.

Toward the west, it is bounded by the termination of
the Campsie hills, and the high grounds above Denny; on
the north by the Ochil hills; and on the east by the Sa-
line hills, part of the coast of Fife, and the rising grounds
above Bo'ness. This view comprehends Stirling castle
on the north-west; and there is an opening in that part of
the pix)spect, which runs far back into tiie north, and pre-
sents you with the bold risings of Benlcdi, and other parts
of the Grampian mountains. The level parts of this pros-
pect consist chiefly of the Carses of Falkirk, and otiier
alluvial lands upon the banks of the Forth, wiiich are so
justly celebrated for their value and fertility. This land-
scape is diversified and interesting, by the flourishing iron
works at Carron, the Frith of Forth, and the great Clyde
and Forth canal. These, together with the ancient seats
of neighbouring gentlemen, the villas and villages occa-
sioned by the vast population of the district, taken in con-
nection with the ships and vessels passing to and fro, give
the whole scene an air of grandeur and activity, seldom to
be met with, but in the neighbourhood of large commercial
towns.

When Falkirk is viewed from the north, it is seen at a
great distance, and is conspicuous for an old tower con-
nected with the church, and an elegant spire 1 40 feet high,
lately erected in the middle of the town. This view of
Falkirk is grand, on account of the bold risings of the
ground behind it ; and seen from the north-west, it is pe-
culiarly striking by the Callander wood, or part of the an-
cient forest of Caledonia, which forms the back ground.

The situation of this town is no less healthy than beau-
iiful, and it is well supplied with water, which is convey-
ed to it by pipes. Standing on an eminence, it has a free

Vol. IX. Part I.

circulation of air; atid having a declivity on every side,
it is easily kept dry and comfortable. The houses are, iii
general, well built, and though it has risen to considera-
tion without a plan, yet it is more regular than might have
been expected. It consists of several streets and lanes;
and the principal one, though narrow toward both ends,
where the ports were formerly situated, yet upon the wholfr
it is commodious and regular. The inhabitants of the town
may be reckoned about 4000 persons. The population of
the parish is about 10,000, and includes the thriving port
of Grangemouth, which is the opening from the Frith and
eastern seas into the great canal.

That port has lately been favoured with the establish-
ment of a custom-house; and the revenue received at that
office for the last quarter has been stated at 30,000/., and
the preceding one not much less. But these sums far ex-
ceed any former receipts, and are chiefly to be ascribed t»
the prodigious number of vessels pouring into that har-
bour, after so long a stagnation of trade, by tiie inconve-
niences of a protracted warfare. But though such returns
of revenue are not to be expected in continuance, yet
Grangemouth is a thriving village, and is likely to rise in
importance.

Justice of the peace courts are regularly hold in Fal-
kirk, and also occasionally other meetings respecting the
turnpike roads, or the particular business of that quarter
of the shire. It is the market town of a population not
less than 25,000 persons; and yet there is not a magis-
trate in the town, nor a place of confinement where a cul-
prit may be shut up for a single hour. In these circum-
stances disorders occasionally ensue, as must frequently
be the case in populous districts ; but instances of vio-
lence and outrage are exceedingly rare, and the general
deportmenj. of the people shows their quiet and peaceable
disposition.

Falkirk was formerly a burgh of regality ; and the diffe-
rent trades had acquired certain privi'eges and immuni-
ties ; and the office of the stint-masters is a residue of the
powers which the burgesses formerly acquired. When
the feudal jurisdictions were taken away, after the rebel-
lion of the year 1745, Falkirk was converted into a burgh
of baronv ; but a baron bailie is seldom appointed, and the

iJAQ957

FALKIRK.

town is thus deprived of the protection which he might
afford.

While Falkirk was a burgh of regality, it was furnished
with a jail and court-house by the noble family of Callan-
der; but after the honours and possessions of that family
were forfeited, they were suffered to fall into ruins, and
the site and materials being sold, the whole is now con-
verted to anotlier purpose. The general advantage of a
place of confinement in a populous situation like this has
long been felt, and there are now measures pursuing, for
having a lock-up house, or a place of confinement, legally
established in Falkirk. It has also been proposed to have
a sheriff-substitute appointed; but as this project would
probably meet with resistance, it would perhaps be more
expedient to have a police bill for the town and parish of
Falkirk, investing the bailies thereof with powers to act
as justices of the peace for the county of Stirling, which
Mould afford ample means of order and protection.

Falkirk being 24 miles from Edinburgh, and not much
less distant from Glasgow, has advantages in point of trade,
which towns that are nearer those large cities do not enjoy.
Though there is no species of manufacture carried on
but for the use of the country, unless it be some trifling
branches of the cotton trade, together with leather and shoes,
it is but occasionally that the people of this district pur-
chase from Glasgow or Edinbugh, and therefore the shops
of Falkirk are well provided with the conveniencies as
well as the necessaries of life. It has long been noted for
one of the best butcher meat markets in the country. But
as there are no magistrates, and few means of public im-
provement, there are no shades, nor proper market-house,
for exposing it to sale.

The same want of accommodation is severely felt by
the farmers, who bring their grain to market on the
Thursdays. Falkirk has its full proportion of fairs, and
there are three trystes, or great cattle markets, which
are held in its neighbourhood on the second Tuesday
of August, the second Tuesday of September, and the
second Tuesday of October, annually. These are more
numerously attended, and more business is done in buy-
ing and selling cattle and sheep, than at any other similar
markets in the kingdom. A few horses also are bought
and sold.

Being the centre of so numerous a population, there is
a great variety of dissenting chapels in Falkirk, but none
of the episcopal persuasion. There is only one parish
church, and one minister of the establishment. The church
is large, and was built a few years ago after the Gothic
form, according to a plan by Mr Gillespie; but it has no
pillars nor arches in the inside. Falkirk was of great con-
sideration in ancient times ; and the parishes of Denny and
Muiravonside were pendicles Connected with it. In the
year 1724, a portion of the parish of Falkirk was erected
into a parish, and denominated Polmont. A considerable
part of it was at the same time added to Hamanon and
Cumbernauld. Reg. Mag. Sig. Edin.

It appears that the church of Falkirk had been founded
by Malcolm Caninore, one of the kings of Scotland, A. D.
1057. The property and right of presentation belonged
to the archbishop and chapter of St Andrews, till that re-
ligious body conveyed them to the monastery of Holyrood-
house in the year 1166. That celebrated convent was
founded by King David in the year 1128, and if not the
first, was one of th-o earliest in Scotland. Consistent with
the credulity of the times, the reason assigned for its

erection was a vision, which was said to be seen by the
king in a moment of danger wliile he v/as hunting, and
on the spot where the vision appeared the monastery was
built.

It was called the Abbey of the Holyrood, because
upon that festival day the su])erhatural appearance was
seen, and because the stag, wliich seemed to attack and
threaten the life of the king, vanished from his sight, and
left the semblance of a cross. In memory of this occur-
rence, a black cross was deposited in the monastery, and
being supposed to have a powerful influence in tin)es of
emergency. King David Bruce wore and lost it at the bat-
tle of Durham, upon the 17tliot Ocioberl346. The monks
of Holyrood-house belonged to the order of St Agustine,
and were lodged in the castle of Edinburgh, till the mo-
nastery was ready for their reception, to the exclusion of
the nuns, who had hitherto resided in that part of the cas-
tle. Several charters of Malcolm IV, are dated from the
monastery, Sancte crucis dc caatello fiuellarum.* See
Dipfiloniat. vet. Advoc. Lib. vol. i. p. 292, ct 294.

The abbey of Holyroodhouse acquired lands from the
kings of Scotland, and pious subjects, till it became exceed-
ingly rich, and had estates in the counties of Edinburgh,
Linlithgow, Stirling, and Peebles, together with churches
in various other parts of Scotland. The power of the Po-
pish adherents had long been on the decline ; and, while the
affairs of the nation were unsettled, the rich endowments
of the church were obtained by friends and favourites of the
crown. Adam Bothwell, bishop of Orkney, acquired the
possessions of Holyroodhouse, in the year 1 582, perhaps in
commendam ; and in A. D. 1587, with the consent of the
convent, they were given in feu farm to Sir John Ballenden
of Auchnoul, Lord Justice Clerk.

John, Lord Bothwell, son of the Bishop of Orkney, suc-
ceeded his father as commendator of Holyroodhouse, and
he, with consent of the surviving tnembers of the monas-
tery, (for the fraternity were much diminished in number,
and none being permitted to enter,) were prevailed upon,
for certain considerations, to surrender the whole of the
property of that monastery into the hands of the king; and
it was granted in full farm and absolute property, to Sir
Lewis Ballenden, son of Sir John, and called the barony
of Broughton. On the death of Sir Lewis in the year
1591, the property devolved upon Sir James, his son, who
conveyed a part of it, the barony of Abbots-kerse, A. D.
1606, to his kinsman, the seventh Lord Livingston, and the
first earl of Linlithgow. The barony of Abbots-kerse,
comprehended the greater part of the old parish of Falkirk,
before Polmont and other parts were separated from it.
It included also other lands and possessions in the county of
Stirling; but though the barony of Abbots-kerse was con-
veyed to the family of Callander, yet considerable parts of
it were disposed of to other persons, by the family of Bal-
lenden.

The town of Falkirk appears to have had its beginning
under the protection of Holyroodhouse, and the oldest part
of it was erected in the vicinity of the church. The Li-
vingstons of Callander having acquired property, at an early
period, in what were called the lands of Falkirk, encoura-
ged building, and extended the town. When the abbot's
property was added to the barony of Callander, that noble
and munificent family cherished the town, and secured the
affections of the inhabitants, till their titles and possessions
were forfeited, for the support which they gave, in the year
1715, to the claims and pretensions of the Stuart family,

• "D.iviclRex Scotia templtim et monasterium longe magnificentissimum fundavit canonicis regularibus, A. D. 1128, in suburbis Edin-
burgh!. Ubi die festo veiitatus, percussus a cervo dum cornu comprehenderet, crucis imaginem non cervi cornu vidit, eodemque loco cwno''
briiun eresit. Diplom. vet ^Uvoc, Lib. vol. i. p. 279, 280.

FAL

from whom they had received their honours, and most of
their wealth.

Falkirk was formerly denominated Kcclcsbrae, and per-
haps it was so denominated by being situated upon an emi-
nence, when few or no houses were near it. The name of
Falkirk seems to have been of a later date, and was probably
derived from the Latin word vallum, a wall or rampart, and
the Scotch word kirk, meaning the church upon the wall, for
in truth the Roman wall, or Graham's dyke, ran along the
south side of the town, and even through the ground on
which a part of it is built. One of its more early names
seems to have been Eiglisbrec, which is a Gaelic denomi-
nation, signifying the spotted church ; and, in conformity
to this, in ancient writings and charters, it is called Varium
Sacellum, or more commonly, Varia Ca/iella. In the char-
ter of the Archbishop and chapter of St Andrews, to the
convent of Holyroodhouse, A. D. 1166, it is denominated
Eiglisbrec, and Varia Capella. It is only in subsequent times
and documents that we hear of Falkirk.

Falkirk being on the boundary between the Caledonian
and Roman possessions, was the scene of many sanguina-
ry conflicts ; and at Camelon, in the immediate neighbour-
hood, there was a Roman station of some note. About the
beginning of the 5th century, while the Caledonians, under
the conduct of Robert Graham, a friend or connection of
King Fergus II. were repelling some incursions of the Ro-
man forces, the gallant Graham lost his life ; and from the
eminence of his character, the Roman wall of Severus, or
as most will now have it, of Antoninus, was from that time
known by the name of Graham's dyke.

When the south aisle of the old church of Falkirk was
lately taken down, a small piece of marble was found with
the following inscription in barbarous Latin : —

FVNERATVS

HIC . DEYN

ROB . GRAHAM

ILLE . EVERSUS

VALL . SEVERUS

AC . LIS

FERGVSIVS . II.

R . SCO.

This inscription, like many others, must have been made
long after the event, but it shews, that Graham was buried
in the church-yard of Falkirk, and it appears from the in-
scription, that the Roman wall that runs from the Forth to
the Clyde, was at one time called the wall of Severus.

Toward the end of the 13th century, a severe battle was
fought between the army of King Edward of England and
the Scottish forces, upon the plain below Falkirk, and scarce-
ly half a mile distant from the town. Among the Scottish
troops were Sir John de Graham, Sir John Stuart, Cumyn,
and Wallace the celebrated champion of Scotland. That
there might be some jealousy among those illustrious ge-
nerals, is not inconsistent with the infirmities of human
nature; but it is not ascertained, on good authority, that
the fortune of the day was injured by any fault of theirs.
{Dalrymji. Annal.) notwithstanding the different opinion
which some historians have expressed ; but upon that me-
morable day, De Graham and Stuart were killed in bat-
tle, and both of them were buried in the churchyard of Fal-
kirk. Till of late the grave of Sir John Stuart was only
distmguished by a stone, shaped like a coffin, and without
a name ; but now his name and fate are inscribed upon the
Stone. Sir John De Graham's was originally marked by a

sculptured figure in human form. At three different times,
stones supported by pillars were placed over his grave, one
above another, by the care of relations, namesakes, or
friends, and tiic last was erected by William Graham, of
Airth, Esq. A. D. 1773.

In the beginning of the year 1746, a battle, or rather
skirmish, was fought between the king's forces and the
Highland troops, in the interest of the Stuart family. The
king's forces were routed and fled towards Linlithgow;
the Highlanders took possession of the town of Falkirk,
and conducted themselves with a considerable degree of
order and moderation, though they knew that the people in
general were hostile to their views. A monument was
erected in the church-yard of Falkirk, over the bodies of
Sir Robert Monro, bart. of Foulis, and his brother the
Doctor, who were both killed in the field of battle.

The Callander estates, after the forfeiture of that noble
family, were sold to the York Buildings Company ; and
when their affairs had run into disorder, they were expo-
sed to sale by the authority of the court of session, and
purchased by William Forbes, Esq. a native of Aberdeen,
who is the present proprietor, (i. w.)

FALKLAND Islands, a group of islands in the Atlan-
tic Ocean, situated at the utniost extremity of South Ame-
rica, and about 80 leagues from the straits of Magellan.
Two of them are of considerable extent, being more than
70 leagues in circumference; and lie between 51° 10' and
524° South Latitude, and between 58° and 62° West Lon-
gitude. These Islands were first seen by Captain Davis,
who sailed under Sir Thomas Cavendish in 1592 ; next by
Sir Richard Hawkins in 1594, who called them Haivkin's
Maidenland, in honour of Queen Elizabeth ; in tlie year
1598, by Sebald de Wert, who named them Sebald's isles,
and they are so designed in all the Dutch charts ; in 1633,
by Dampier, and probably about the same time by Cow-
ley ; in 1 689, by Strong, who gave them their present ap-
pellation in honour of Viscount Falkland; in 1699, by a
Frenchman named Beauchesne Gouin ; and in 1721, by
Roggewin, a Mecklenburgher in the Dutch service, who
circumnavigated the whole group, and called itBelgia Aus-
tralis. The Dutch mistaking the numerous capes for por-
tions of different islands, gave to the whole the designation
of New Islands; the French generally call them Matouines,
from the people of St Maloes, whom they wish to consider
as the first discoverers. The navigators of the last men-
tioned nation were, without question, the first settlers on
these islands, when their government, after the loss of Ca-
nada, in 1763, selected them as a new American settlement,
particularly as a place of shelter and refreshment for ves-
sels bound to the South Seas. A colony of Acadian fami-
lies, above twenty-seven persons in all, was carried thither
in 1764, by Commodore Bougainville; and in the following
year, by the addition of new colonists, the number of inha-
bitants amounted to about 150. In the beginning also of
the year 1765, Commodore Byron, in conformity to his in-
structions, took possession of these islands in the name of
his Britannic Majesty ; and a British colony was settled,
the year after, in Port Egmont, by Captain Macbride, who
circumnavigated the whole coast. But they were soon
found to be of very little value, particularly from the total
want of wood ; and first the French ceded their settlement
to the Spaniards in 1767, and the English abandoned theirs
in 1774. They are now employed by the Spaniards as a
receptacle for criminals from tlieir American dominions.

The two largest of these islands are separated by a chan-
nel about twelve leagues in length, and one to three in
breadth ; and were furnished with the most secure and ca-
pacious harbours. Port Egmont, on the north west coast
of the largest island, is described by Byron, as one of the

A 2

FAL

V\L

finest havens in the world, and as capable of containing the
•whole British navy in perfect security. The general as-
pect of the coast is rocky and desolate ; and no kind of
wood has been found on any part of the islands. They
appeared to tlie first navigators, while sailing along the
shores, to be completely covered with trees; but tliese,
upon a nearer approach, were discovered to be notliing but
buslics of tall rushes and reeds, which grow in clusters to
the height of three feet, and tlieii shout cut other stalks
about six or seven feet in length. The higher lands are
covered with heath, and there is great abundance of excel-
lent turf for fuel, capable even of supplying sufficient heat
to a forge. There is no appearance whatever of those is-
lands having ever been inluibited previous to their disco-
very by Europeans; and the navigators, who first landed
upon their shores, found the animals so unacquainted with
man, that the birds suflered themselves to be taken with
the hand, and even settled upon the heads of the people when
they stood still. The surface is marshy, and the soil is compo-
sed first of a thick turf, then a black mould, iVonj eight
to twelve inches deep, and next a yellowish clay, resting
upon strata of slate and stone. In most places on ^thc
coast is stone fit for building ; and, in the interior, there is
earth capable of being manufactured into bricks and pot-
ter's ware. The rocks are chieily of quartz, wiih some
pyrites, and marks of copper. Red and grey slate, and
different kinds of ochre, arc common ; but no mines or
metals have been discovered. The climate is temperate
and salubrious, free from the extremes of heat or cold; but
there are frequent rains and stormy winds in all seasons of
the year. The running streams are never frozen ; and the ice
on the lakes and pools is seldom sufficiently strong to bear
the weight of a man, above twenty-four hours in succes-
sion. Snow remains upon the tops of the highest moun-
tains about two months in winter; but seldom above a day
or two in the lower grounds. The hoar frosts in spring
and autumn occasion no injury to the plants, but, being
ihawed by the sun, arc converted into a refreshing dew.
Thunder is seldom heard in summer; but, even during
that season of the year, the winds are almost uniformly
violent; and, fromthe want of fuel and shelter, all the settlers
have suflered greatly from cold. A remarkable peculiarity
has been observed in the tides, which do not rise at settled
periods subject to calculation; but just before high water, the
sea, in less than a quarter of an hour, rises and falls three
times, as if shaken up and down, and this motion is always
riiore violent during the solstices, equinoxes, and full
jnoons. The surface of the ground is partially covered with
turf, shrubs, and a variety of plants. The turf, which is found
chieily above the clay soil, is formed of the roots and
remains of plants in marshy situations, and is frequently seen
in strata of considerable thickness. The meadows, which
are of great extent, and watered with numerous rivulets
from the hills, afford abundance of excellent pasturage.
One of the most common grasses grows to the height of
six feet, and furnished the colonists with an excellent thatch
for their houses, while its stalk, which was very sweet and
nourishing, was preferred by the cattle to every other kind
of food. The resinous guni Jtiant is the most conspicuous
and curious of the vegetable productions. It is of a bright
green colour; but, liaving rieither stalk, branches, nor
leaves, it is more like an excressence from the eai th than
a plant. It is only about a foot and a half in height, but
frequently more tlian six feet in diameter ; and so iiriu in
its texture, as to bear the weight of a man without yield-
ing to the pressure. On its surface are drops of a tough
yellowish matter, about the size of pease, resembling rosin,
and of a strong aromatic smell like turpentine. A small
shrub, creeping close to the ground, was discovered to

possess the taste of spruce fir; and, being made into beer
with molasses, proved a powerful antiscorbutic. Here are
great cpiantities also of wild parsley, wood-sorrel, and wa-
ter-cresses, which provide a valuable relief to those who
are afllictcd will) the scurvy. The only fruits found upon
these islands, capable of being used as food, are a small
berry about the size of a pea, resembling Xhtlucct of North
America, and another similar to the mulbtrnj, both of
which grow upon creeping plants. Among numerous
flowers, only one appeared to yield any perfume, and its
smell resembled that of the tube-rose. The shores are co-
rer-ed with sea-weeds so strong and thick as almost to
prevent the landing of a boat. The tides throw up several
coralines, the finest mol-ier-of-pearl, sponges of the most
compact texture and delicate fibre, and a variety of shells,
of which the most curious is a bivalve called ia fioulette,
said to be found no where else except in a fossil state.
Only one species of (|uadruped was observed on these
islands, called the ivolf-fox, from its resemblance to both
tliese animals. It is about the size of a common shephei'd's
dog, with very long sharp fangs ; and bar ks in the same
manner, but not so loud. It digs a kennel under gi'ound,
and preys upon the wild fowls and seal. Great number.j
of these animals were seen by Byron, who describes them
as remarkably fierce, running even from a great distance
to attack the sailors, and plunging into the sea after the
boats. The coasts abound with seals and walrusses or sea-
lions, many of which are of an enormous size, and also
very formidable from their ferocity and strength. Land
and water fowls are found in gi-eat numbers and variety.
The most remarkable are swans with necks of a velvet
black colour, flesh-coloured feet, and white bodies; luild-
geese, one species of which, similar to the Canada goose,
feeds chiefly on dry land, and aflbrds a wholesome and pa-
latable food ; ducks and /fa/.v, resembling those of Eur'ope ;
a species oi grebe, of the most beautiful plumage, and eyes
like rubies, surrounded with a circle of white feathers; a
kind of guillemot, whose flesh is very good to eat, and
which the colonists destroyed in great quantities, merely
with sticks in their hands; a species of /;e?!4'-7^m, distin-
guished by its stately gait, its beautiful plumage, and so-
litary habits ; different kinds of petrels, small eagles, fal-
cons, owls, snipes, curlews, herons, thiuslres, &c. There
were few kinds offish taken by the settlers and navigators,
but the most common were mullet, gradcau, sardine, trans-
parent pike, and fiesh water trout of a green colour-, with-
out scales. There is no want of muscles, cray-fish, crabs,
shrimps, and other small shell-fish; but they were found
very inferior to those of Europe in taste. See Byron's
Voyage round the World in 1"64, is'c. ; Bougainville's Voy-
age in 1766 ; Pernelty's History of a Voyage to tlteMalou-
ines. {'/)

EALLINO Bodies. See Dvn-amics.

FALLING SroxEs. See Meteorites,

FALLOPIAN Tubes. See Ax.vroMy.

FALLOW. See Agriculture.

FALMOUTH, a sea-port town of England in Cornwall,
of modern erection, its charter being granted by Charles
II. in 1661. Its rise and increase has been altogether ow-
ing to the progress of commerce, and particularly to the
establishment of packet boats for America, the West In-
dies, Spain, Portugal, Brazil, kc. Its harbour is accoun-
ted the finest in England, next to Plymouth and Miiford
Haven, and being land-locked, it affoi-ds complete protec-
tion in tempestuous wcatlier. The town, situated at the
bottom of an eminence which commands the harbour, con-
sists of one street, nearly a mile in length, extending along
the side of the beach. The pilchard trade is an object of
considerable importance to this as well as to other parts

FAL

lAO

.of Cornwall. Pciulcnnis castle, a building of much older
date than the town of FalmouUi, stands on a lolty rock,
joined to the main-land by a narrow neck, and defends the
west entrance into the harbour. 'I'he rock is three hun-
dred feet above the sea, and appears to rise from the bay
like an island. This fortification was begun by Henry
VIII. and improved in some measure by Elizabctli, but
more by Oliver Cromwell, having been much damaged
during the civil war. It is nov/ modernized, and mounted
with seventy pieces of cannon. St Mawe's castle is a much
smaller and less remarkable erection, standing on the eas-
tern side of Falmouth harbour, and tracing its origin like-
wise to Henry VIII. The houses in the neighbourhood,
though few in number, constitute a Cornish borough, while
Falmouth, in consequence of its comparative recency of
growth, is unrepresented in parliament.

Outside of Falmouth harbour there is a safe and commo-
dious roadstead for vessels of the largest size. It is the
opinion of many naval men, that the value of Falmouth, as
a seaport, is not yet fully known. Its great advantage Ires
in its easy egress to the Western Ocean, tlie difficulty of
•which from Portsmouth, and even from Plymouth, is ex-
perienced every season by our outward bound vessels. Now
from Falmouth the distance to the Lands-end is less than
from the Thames to the soutii Foreland : there are neither
shoals nor sand banks by the way, and it is highly impor-
tant to consider, that the French side of the Channel ter-
minates on the meridian of Falmouth, so that if a vessel
going from that port gains a league of westing in her
southward progress, she is forthwith received by tlie ocean.
Were the wind to get round to the westward the day after
her leaving Falmouth, the vessel has still a clear course of
more than four hundred miles to the southward before
meeting with land, viz. the north-east coast of Spain. The
difficulty of getting into the ocean from Portsmouth or Ply-
mouth, will be apparent on computing the small numl)er
of days in the year during which the wind is fair to come
down the Channel. On examining a diary, we shall find
that sixty or seventy days in the twelve-month are rather
above than below the average. In 1808 the expedition
under Sir David Baird sailed from Falmouth on the 9th of
October, and entered Corunna on the I5th ; but two trans-
ports leaving Plymouth the same day for a similar destina-
tion, got no farther than Falmouth by the time the expe-
dition was on the coast of Spain. In 1811, the Mcnelaus
frigate, bound on a special service to the Mediterranean,
was detained at Plymouth at the time that nine packets
were kept at Falmouth by contrary winds. On the 27th
October, the wind becoming nortiierly, the frigate and
packets sailed from their respective anchorages; seven'of
the packets proceeded in spite of wind and weather, while
the Menclaus and the two other packets were forced back.
The principal objection to FalmoutK is the difficulty of get-
ting out during the prevalence of south-east winds ; but
these are of rare occurrence compared with the south-west
winds, which form the great impediment to coming down
the Channel. It is however to be acknowledged, that the
remote situation of Falmouth, and the degree of hazard to
an enterprizing enemy who might venture on an attack, is
an objection to rendering it an arsenal or a dock-yard.

The following is the statistical abstract for the town of
Falmouth for lall :

Inhabited houses 465

Families that occupy them 1017

Families employed in agriculture . . 10

Ditto in trade and manufactures . . . 427

IMales 1453

I'emales 2480

Total jiopulation in 18 1 1 392Z

W. Long. 5° 2' 5", N. Lat. 50° 8', according to trigonome-
trical observations. See Bcaulie.s of England and Wales,
vol. ii. p. 442 ; and Manderson's Letters on Falmouth. [yC)

FALONICHI, or Fei.anix, is the name of one of the
largest and best built towns in the island of Majorca. It is
situated on the eastern coast, about three leagues from San-
tagni. The inhabitants grow plenty of corn, and have a
sutficient number of cattle. Their chief wealth, however,
is derived from their brandies, which arc reckoned the best
in the island, and form one of the most advantageous
branches of commerce of Majorca. The monks of St Au-
gustine have here a handsome convent. About half a
league from this village, is a small hill called Sin Salva-
dor, on the summit of which is a chapel, where the islan-
ders pay their devotions to an image of Christ. There is
an inn near the chapel for the accommodation of pilgrims ;
and an ascent has been cut in the rock to the top of the
hiil. Population 5000 or 6000. See St Sauveur's TraveU
through the Balearic and Pichyusian Islands, chap 1 . (y)

FAMAGUSTA. See CvVrus.

FAMINE. See Abstinence and Fasting.

FANDANGO, the name of a national Spanish dance,
which is practised only among the lower classes; an ac-
count of it will be found in Townshend's Travels ; Ulloa's
Voxjage to South America, vol. i. p. 39 ; but particularly in
Laborde's View of Sfiain^voX. v. page 257. {nu)

FANO, Fanum Fortunes-, is the name of a sea-port town
of Italy, in the duchy of Urbino. It is a well built and
very handsome town, surrounded with a lofty wall of brick,
having towers at a small distance, and bastions towards the
sea. The churches are remarkable both for their archi-
tecture, and for the paintings which they contain. The
triumphal arch erected in honour of Augustus, who sent
thither a colony called Julia F'anestris, is now one of the
gates of tiie town. It is of the Corinthian order; and in
the time of Constantine, a gallery or portico of 5 arcades
was built over it. It was greatly injured by the artillery,
in a contest between this town and Julius II. Several pil-
lars were still lying, (when Mr Eustace visited the town.)
as they seem to have fallen on the platform above the arch.
There are three different inscriptions on the three cornices.
The theatre was formerly a magnificent and commodious
building, but it has now the appearance of a ruin. The
Via Flaminia here turns from the sta towards the Appen-
nines. See Eustace's Classical Tour in Italy, vol. i. p.
153. (to)

FANTIN is the name of a county in the west of Africa,
which extends about 30 miles along the gold coast. The
capital, which is also called Fantin, is aliout twelve miles
from the coast. Fruits, maize, and pahn %*ine„are produ-
ced in abundance. There are numerous small towns on
the coast, which are inhabited by about 4000 fishermen.
The principal towns and villages are, Anamaboa, or Ana-
mabou, where the English have a fort; Adja, or Aga;
Great and Little Cormaniin,or Kormentin ; Agua, Laguyo,
Tantim, Guers, and Maufran. Sec Anamaboa, and La-
barthe's Voyage a la Cote de Guinee, Lett. viii. p. 69. Pa-
ris, 1803. (to)

P'.'VOUE, or FouAii, is the name of a town of Egypt, si-
tuated on the west branch of the Nile, and about 20 miles
from the sea. It was formerly a large and flourishing city,
and contained several commercial establishments belong-
ing to liuropeans. The ancient edifices, however, arc
now in a state of ruin, and the place is falling rapidly into

PAR

FAR

decay. It is supposed by some to be tlie Metelis, and by
others the Naucratis, of the ancients. The surrounding
country is rich, and the (hardens produce fine fruit, which
is held in great estimation. East Long. 31", North Lat.
31° lu'. See Lord Valenlia's TroTye^s, vol. iii. p. 443. {w)

FARCE. See Diiama.

FAHEHAM, a market-town of England in Hampshire,
is situated at the north-west extremity of Portsmouth har-
bour. The houses are tolerably well built. There are
two meeting-houses and one church, which stands at the
entrance to the town. The inhabitants are principally em-
ployed in the manufacture of sacking, and ropes for ship-
ping, of which they send great quantities to the dock-yard
at Portsmouth. In the summer season, this town is much
frequented as a bathing-place : a commodious bathing-
house has lately been erected. Vessels of considerable
burden are built at the quay. There is here a good market
on Wednesday, and an annual fair on the 29th of June,
which is supplied with corn, cheese, hops, &c. Tlie town
also carries on a considerable coal-trade. The following
is the statistical abstract for the town and parish, in 1811:

Inhabited houses, 596

Families that occupy them, , . , 698

Do. employed in agriculture, . . 255

Do. in trades and manufactures, . . 179

Males, 1592

Females, 1733

Total population in 1811, . . . . 3325

See Beauties of England and Wales.,\(A. vi. p. 308. (w)

FAREY's EquAL Temperament of the Musical
Scale. The apparent simplicity of the Isotonic Scale,
wherein the octave is supposed to be divided into 12 ex-
actly equal semitones, and its agreement which the vul-
gar notions of our musical notation, have occasioned an
unusual number of theoretical writers to give their opinions
in favour of this system : The names of more than 20 such
authors are before us, many of whose recommendations
of it are most unqualified : yet few of them have been at
the least pains to inquire as to the fiai-moniousness of its
concords, or otherwise; leaving these to be inferred from
its semitones, which are discords! the length of string
calculated for sounding each note, having usually been
thought fully sufficient information to the musical stu-
dent;* at the same time it has been, and may fairly yet be
questioned, whether this system has, in one single instance,
been actually tuned on an instrument, with sufficient ac-
curacy for judging fairly of its practical effects in per-
formance.

It was for removing this defect of information, as to
a scale so simple and elementary as the Isotonic, that
the gentleman .whose name appears at the head of this ar-
ticle was iftduced to pay considerable attention to a system,
which he was convinced was at best but a most violent

and unnatural simplification of a subjuect vastly more pro-
found und extended, as Mr Liston has since proved, in his
admirable " Essay on Perfect Intonation ; and it was in
the course of this investigation, that Mr Farey discovered
a new regularly tcm/icred system, having its fifth Gj:fE[j,
less than each of i:s otner eleven equal fifths, by what
Mr Overend has denominated the most minute (m), the last
interval thai he or any other person has yet discovered, and
being insensible, perhaps, in the nicest experiments in har-
monics. None of its semitones differ from each other
more than tliis very small quantity m, and the whole of
them have finite or determinate ratios, expressible by help
of the primes 2, 3, and 5 ; and, lastly, each of its notes
may actually be tuned (on an organ having a sufficient
number of pipes, like the Euharmonic organ of Liston) by
the means of untempered or /lerfect concords only. That
is to say, if on C (on a spare range of pipes) the five suc-
cessive perfect fourths CF, FB^, B^ E*b, E*^ A*^ and
A'b D'b, be very correctly tuned upwards, and from the
highest of these notes, descending again by two perfect
fifths, D'b G'b' a"d G'b F,i:f, and a major third F,j$ G,
(which notes, in Farey's artificial commas, are, 0,254, 508,
762, 1016. 1270, 912, 554, and 357, respectively), ihe last
of these sounds, G,t, or G according to the common no-
tation, is the proper fifth above C, in this system. After
this, new G has been transferred to the range of pipes in-
tended to be tuned, a new beginning is to be made at this
note, and 5-4ths up, and 2-V^ths and a llld down, are to
be carefully tuned for obtaining D, a proper new fifth,
(357 as before) to G. From this D, A is to be tuned
in like manner, and likewise E, B, Fj$, Cjf and G^l, in suc-
cession. This process is then to be discontinued, and a
new beginning made from C, by tuning upwards the three
fifths CG, GD, and DA', and the major third A'Cif, and
thence downwards, the four minor fouiths CJ;jlG'ff,G'JfD'tf,
D'^A'j^f, and A'J:fF*, which last note (being the same with
Mr Liston's E'j^f) is the proper fourth of this system, i e.
in Art. Com. 358, 716, 1074, 1271, 1017, 763, 509, and
255. Upon F*, two other schisma-excessive fourths are
to be tuned in succession, as above, for B^ and Ef; ; and
thus eleven fifths will be obtained, each equal 5-4thsr— 2V
— Ill, and a resulting one, Gj:fEb, equal 29 V-f 1 1 III—
48-4ths. Its fourth CF*, and complementary fifth F*C,
being found ready tuned on Liston's organ ; and whereon
also there are 14 other pairs of notes, at the exact distance
apart of this fourth, and 14 fifths (their complements),
which agree exactly in their quantity therewith, but not
with their places in the scale, as Mr Farey has observed
in the Phil. Mag. vol, xxxix. p. 422, note.

In order fully to exemplify this system, and shew clear-
ly its almost perfect agreement with the Isotonic or per-
fectly equal temperament, we subjoin the following Table,
consisting of 11 columns, numbered at top, and entitled at
bottom, because intended to be read upwards, according
to the practice of musicians.

• Even Dr Robert Smith has bestowed too little attention on this much recommended system, contenting himself with mentioning,
(Harmonics, 2d edit. p. 166>, tliat its harmony "is extremely coarse and disagreeable ;" and has, a', p. 167, erroneously stated the tempe-
raments of its V, Vi. and 111, to be 1-lOth, 7-lOths, and 6-lOths of a comma, instead of 1-llth, S-llths, and 7-llths, respectively, which
temperaments may ne^ enheless be very nearly obtained, from his col. 1. of Table II. in p. 158, viz. 7-76ths, 56-76ths, and 49-76ths, in-
stead of f-77ths, 56.7rths, and 49-77ths, as above.

■)■ The asterisk reversed, or at the bottom of the line „ is here, and will hereafter be used, to denote the j'a// of the interval schisma or
S, (to be read "fall schisma,") and the aslensk in its usual position *, to denote the rise of a schisma, (to be read "rise schisma") ; s»
the asterisk and grave united, *>, will denote tlie fall of a ininor comma or £), and *' the rise of tlie same interval : and, in like manner,
•' will denote the rise of the diaschisma or ^, and •' the fall of the same interval, attached either to the literal or the numerical martcK
«f intervals. See Notation of Musical Intervals.

FAREY'S NOTATION.

1
c;

612

1 0

.5000000

480.0000

561

— 12

23—5

.5297295

453.0613

24.4551

17.9658

2.0454

1.5330

28.55('7

20.5644

Bf7

510

—8 2

.5512318

427 6307

23.0595

16.9766

1.9315

1.4470

'^6.9183

19.4103

459

—7

14—3

.5946022

403.6312

21.7871

16.0239

1.8229

1.3658

25.4366

18.3206

G«

408

—20

36—8

.6299568

380.9785

20 5644

15.1075

1.7149

1.2993

24.0085

17.2752

357

—2

5—1

.667 4194

359.5940

19.4103

14 2743

1.6240

1.2169

22,6614

16.3218

t'tf

306

— 15

27—6

.7071036

339.4128

18.3206

13.4591

1.5330

1.1483

21.3892

15.3907

255

—4 1

.74915 41

320.3613

17.2752

12.7183

1.4470

1.0839

20.1655

14.5412

204

— 10

18—4

.7936981

302.3820

16.3218

12.0043

1.3658

1.0232

19.0556

13.7251

153

- 13 3

.8408981

285.4091

15 3907

11.3307

1.2993

.9657

17.9658

12.9548

102

— 5

9—2

.8908974

269.3913

14.5412

10.6946

1.2169

.9115

16.9766

12.2275

t«

— 18

31— r

• .9438695

254.2725

13.7251

10.0828

1.1483

.8574

16.0239

11.5298

Note?

0 0

1.0000000

240.0000

12.9548

9.5278

1.0839

.8120

15.1075

10.8936
Sh. Vlths

Artiv,

4 111

Lcit^lhs

Vibrations

Flat 3rds.

Sharp Illds.

Sharp 4ths.

Flat Vths

Flat 6ths

Tunable Intervals

Strings

Beats in 1" of time. 1

The 1st, 2d, 4th, and 5th, of the above columns, seem
to require no explanation. The numbers in the 1st, 2d,
and 3d range of col. 3, shew how many Vths, 4ths, or Illds,
respectively, are to be tuned u/iwards, and the numbers
■with — affixed, of the same intervals, are to be tuned
downnuards respectively from tenor cliff C, in order to
produce each several note.

The numbers in the 6th to the 1 1th columns, (calcu-
lated by our 4th Theorem in the article Beats), shew the
number of beats in a second of time, made by each several
concord, 3d, 1114 4th, Vth, 6th and Vlth, above the note
on the same line in col. 1, either Jlat or s/iat-fi beatings,
as is marked at the bottom of the columns : and hereon it
may be proper to remark, that the beats on all the Vlths
above D are repetitions of those of their complementary
3ds from C to Gj:f, and the remaining beats from C to D
are the halves of those of their complementary 3ds ; also

the beats of the 6ths below E, are the same as those of
the Illds from C to Gj^, and the remainder are double of
those of their complementary Illds; and the beats of the
4ths from C to F^ are the same as their complementary
Vths from F to c, and the remainder are double of their
complementary Vths respectively.

In order to shew, in different ways, the extremely near
agreement of the above system with the Isotonic, (which
agree in col. 2), it may be proper to state, that in lengths
of strings, the greatest difference (on G^) is but .000037,
and the mean of all the differences only .000017 ; that in
the vibrations, the greatest difference (on G^^f) is .0022,
and the mean difference only .0006. With respect to the
beats, which offer by far the most accurate mode of judg-
ing the practical effects of any two systems, it may be
proper to compare together the sums of the beats of each
concord, in each system, as follows, viz.

3ds.

Illds.

4ths.

Vths.

6ths.

\ltliS.

183.1550
183.1527

.0002

Totals.

J. Farcy's System,
Isotonic, . . .
Greatest difference.
Mean difference, .

217.8058

217.8068

Bb.>171

.0001

160.1667

160.1699

B .0130

.0003

18.2339

18.2413

Eb .0092

.0006

13.6639

13.6659

Gj:|:.0092

.0002

254.2596

254.2546

Bb .0201

.0004

847.2849

847.2912

.0063

.0001

—by which, the very insensible differences of these two
equal temperaments will sufficiently appear; the beats
differing but 1 in 50, in the most extreme case, the 6th or

Bb- (?)

FAREY's Notation of Musical Intervals. This
new mode of expressing the magnitudes of intervals ha-
ving been adopted in our work, it may be proper to say
a few words in this place on the discovery of this nota-
tion. The late Mr Marmaduke Overend, organist of Isle-
worth Church, near London, and author of "a brief ac-
count of, and an introduction to. Eight Lectures in the
Science of Music, (intended) to be read," &c. 4to. pp. 20.
Payne 8c Son, 1781, bestowed inconceivable pains and la-
bour on the calculations and compurisoii of musical inter-
vals, by actual involutions, multipiicutions, &c. of the terms
of their ratios, never using logarithms, and but rarely re-
sorting to the indices of the component primes, for short-
ening his work: he adopted a consistent nonjonclature
throughout, according to which he named the several in-
tervals, and fixed on a symbol or character for^each, as
we have done in our 30th Plate in Vol. II. and throughout
our work.

At the conclusion of each of his arithmetical calcu-

lations, as above, Mr Overend was careful to express
his results in form of equations, by means of his sym-
bols, and to transcrilie the whole neatly into thick quarto
volumes. After Mr Overend's death, Dr John Wall
Callcott, one of the most able but unfortunate of musi-
cians, having purchased all Mr Overend's manuscripts
from his family, kindly offered the use of the above men-
tioned quarto volumes to Mr Farey, with permission to
make all such extracts from, and use of their contents,
as he might be able. In perusing 14 of these volumes,
in June 1807, Mr Farey found an immense number of in-
tervals correctly deduced by Mr Overend, and expressed
in his symbols, which no previous writers had noticed,
the whole of which he was desirous of preserving, in an
arranged Table ; but, previous to this, it became necessary
to reduce them all to some one jtotation ; a thing which
never seemed to have occurred to Mr Overend, but who
had in each instance left his intervals expressed in the
symbols of those particular intervals, which he happened
to have used in calculating their ratios.

In order to avoid negative signs, which are indispensible
in the use of such large intervals as S, t, and T, the small-
est that any writer had previously used as the terms of

T AREY'S NOTATION.

tlieii- notations, it occurred to Mr Farey to select the three
smallest intervals thai Mr Ovorend had discovered, vir,.
jf , f and ni ; but this notation, as well as that by !•', f and
in, provin;; lo liavc ncsalivc i^igns to in, in every instance,
as remarked in our article C^ommon Measures of Musi-
cal Intervals, he next tried S, f and in, which has lieen loinid
in its most cxlendcd use, the best adapted by far, than
any others of the niunertnis ones suljsefjuenlly tried, for
a general notation of musical intervals; and, as such, \vc
have in our work adojilcd and \ised it.

The methods by which Mr Farcy at first deduced tlie
expression for each interval' in his notation, from the mul-
tifarious ones of Mr Overcnd, were far from the most di-
rect or easy ; but, assuming the r.otes of tlie common
chord, III, V, and VIII, to be known to be 197S+ 4 f +
\7 m, 358S + rf+31 m, and 6122+ 12f+ 53 m, respec-
tively, as may easily be proved to be true, by either the
indices of the primes, or tlie logarithms of these intervals,
in our Table, Plate XXX. Vol. II. by addinj^ together
197 times S, 4 times f, and 17 times m, and so of the
others, the following resolutions and compositions would
readily give us his expressions for all the intervals in the
Table : thus,

f m

t m

4lh

VIII— V

254

5 22

111

%+r

2 0

V— III

161

3 14

c— /^ c

-1 1

V— 4

104

2 9

R— R

-3 1

4 — 3

2 8

d-f2f

-1 1

3— T

1 5

€

c— S

0 1

T— t

0 1

€+f

1 1

S— c

1 4

C + S

0 1

T— L

.^8

1 5

%+c

1 1

4 c

0 4

D-fS

1 1

L— 4 c

1 0

c-fG

0 2

P— S

0 0")

D-fc

1 2

r— 2 S

1 ol

/+s

1 2

'.n

c— 11 S

0 ij

<r-fR

0 3

Whence the rei

naining inter-

t— s

1 3

vals may be

com

)ounded,

L-fs

1 4

as follows.

S-fc

1 6

r +S

1 0

4f.

7d-fm

0 8

i€

X + ^

1 0

8ft + m

0 9

ie + 2

1 0

T-fc

115

2 10

lar intervals, and their logs, which we must reluctantly
omit here for want of room.

All such intervals in Mr Farcy's general Table, as do
not conform to the above, with regard to the number of f's"
and of m's tliat they contain with their S's, have been deno-
minated irregular intervals, such as d, !•', r, -/.i JCi ^<^> R
and R, none of which ought to have cither for in, nut con-
sist of S's only, "to constitute them regnlar intervals; sop,
U, and TT, ought to have no f ; and /' to have an f, and only
two m's, Sec. and these changes' may be effected, and any
intervals be brought into a regular form, by means of de-
cimals in the schisma column, equivalent to the f's or m's,
that may be added or taken away ; reclioning, each f as
.14966096 S, and each ni,as .00786241 S; thus, for exam-
ple, dm aregular Table, will be .5588795 S,p:z: 10. 149561
S -f m,/=;"31. 85820 14 S+ f-f 2 m, &c.

If we consider, thtit whenever the prime number 2 is
found involved or multiplied in the. numerator, or least
term of any musical ratio, it is equivalent to deducting an
octave i from it ; and if, in the denominator, it answers to
the addition of VIII ; so 3 denotes the subtraction or addi-
tion of a major twelfth {\) ; 4 of a double octave {^) ; 5 of
a major seventeenth (•^), &;c. it will thence appear evident
that a Table of the intervals J, A, \, i, &c. expressed in the
new notation, will enable us to Hnd the expresssion for any
interval whose ratio is given. We can, on the present oc-
casion, only find room for the first 25 numbers of Mr Fa-
rcy's TahJeof this kind, viz.

After several hundred intervals, expressed in this new
notation, had been collected from Mr Overend's MS. and
many other sources, and arranged in a Table, according
to their magnitudes, as before mentioned, it was observed,
that all but a very few of them formed a regular series, in
■which each of the three columns formed a separately in-
creasing series of numbers; such, that f, 1,2, 3, 4, kc. first
appeared with S, 23, 80, 127, 174, 231, 278, 325, 382, 429,
486, 533, 590, 637, &c. respectively ; and 7>i, 1, 2, 3, 4 &c.
first appeared associated with S, 8, 19, 34, 44, 55, 65, 76,
91, 102, 112, 123, 138. 149, 159, 170, 185, 195, 206, 217,
227, 242, 253, 263, 274, 289, 300. 310, 321, 336, 346, 357,
368, 378, 393, 404, 414, 425, 440, 450, 461, 472, 482, 497,
508, 518, 529, 544, 554, 565, 576. 586. 601, 612, 622, 633,
648, 658, 669, &:c. respectively. The intervals of the com-
mencement of the f's, being sometimes S and sometimes
-}-, commencing with 23 2+f+2 m ; and the intervals of
the beginnings of the m's, either C, -^ or «•, commencing
■with 8 S -}- m's, by help of which the musical student may
readily construct for himself a Table of the above 71 regu-

New Notation.

Xos.

612.00000

970.

1224.

106

1421.

123

1582.

137

C 1718.06077

148

I 1718.05290

149

1836.

159

1940.

168

2033.

176

2117.10204

183

2194.

190

C 2264.73073

196

^2264.58107

196

2 330.05290

202

2391.

207

2448.

212

52501.53057

216

^2501.53181

217

2552.

221

2599.72902

225

2645.

229

C 2688.06077

232

^2688.20257

2.53

C 2729.25171

^2729 24384

237

2768.46027

240

2805.

243

2842.

246

From this Table the primes 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, kc. and
their multiples, are not excluded, because intervals involv-

• .\nd he m.-irked the same at the time, in pencil, in Mr Overend's volumes, where they still remain, in the library of the Royal Instittt-
jion in Albemarle Street ; lo which public body Dr Callcott soon after presented those curious m.-uiiiscript volumes.

FAR

ing these do sometimes require to be calculated : tlic rea-
son why two values are affixed to 7, and to some others of
the primes differing by m or f, is, in order tliat a regular
interval may be made between every adjacent number, as
■|) h f' !■' ^'^- ^ simple subtraction will give the value,
whenever the terms of the ratio are found in the first co-
lumn ; and when this is not the case, the multipliers of each
term must be sought, and the corresponding notations of
each added together, and then the sums are to be subtract-
ed ; thus if the value of the minor tone, ^'j, were wanted,

yte have its ratio

-y and

2X5'

970 19 84 612 12 53

970 19 84 and 1421 2S 123

1940 38 168 3033 40 176 the differ-

ence of which sums, is 93 S -f 2 f + 8 m, the value sought.

Since, in the use of this notation, a carrying or borrow-
ing to or from one column to another, never takes place,
in whole numbers at least, as with columns of pounds, shil-
lings, and pence, or yards, feet, and inches, See. but each
column separately agrees in the result, it is plain, that ei-
ther of the columns may be separately used, but with dif-
ferent degrees of exactness in some cases.

The middle column having 12 f's to the octave, it is evi-
dent that the number of f's in t/ie regular exjiression for any
interval, will shew, to which of the 12 finger-keys, or notes
of the vulgar half-tone system, the same belongs: thus all
intervals less than 23 S + f-|-2m may be classed with the
unison, or first degree, and considered as temperaments ;
all between this and SO 2-f2 f+7 rn, may be considered of
the second degree, or as minor seconds, £cc.

In like manner, the third or m column of 5 3 parts in the
octave, are the jirtificial Commas of Merc at or, as is particu-
larly explained in our article Common il/raszii-es of inter-
vals, and by help of which commas, the calculations of
most intervals, except those near to or less than a comma,
may be correctly performed. And, in like manner, the
first column, separately considered, of a table of regular
intervals, constitute Mr Farey's Artificial Convnas, 612 to
the octave : by means of which, the utmost facility, and every
requisite degree of accuracy, is given to the calculations of
all real or diatonic intervals larger than S, (except some-
times confounding R and /c, and also ^^ and <p), mostly in
whole numbers; and in the calculations of temperaments,
or where decimal or vulgar fractional pai-ts of this artifi-
cial comma are used, even the smallest intervals, as well
as the largest, arc represented by them and decimals, with
greater accuracy than it is practical to make experiments,
or to apply musical calculations in practice, {g)

FARMING. See Aghicui.tuke.

FARNHAM, ato'.vn of England, in the hundred ofFarn-
Iiam, and the county of Surrey, is situated partly on a hill
not far from the north bank of the river Wye. The town
consists of one principal street, with some smaller oiies
branching off to the north and south, and the houses are in
general excellent. The principal public buildings and esta-
blishments at Farnham, are, the castle, the church, and the
market house, with a free school, and a good charity school.
The castle is situated upon a hill, on the north side of the
principal street. It was built by Henry, (brother of King
Stephen,) Bishop of Winchester, and has ever since been
the summer residence uf tlie Bishop of Winchester. It
was greatly injured in the civil war in 1G42, but was re-
built and repaired after the Restoration, by Dr Morley, Bi-
shop of Winchester. It is built of brick, covered with
stucco, and is embattled, and of a quadrangular form. Some
remains of the keep of the ancient castle are contiguous
to the edifice. It is called Jay's Tower, which is ascended

Vol. IX. Part. I.

by 63 stone steps. It contains a kitchen garden on its top,
consisting of 48 rods of land. The whole is surrounded
with a strong stone wall, at the foot of which is a moat
planted with oaks. Tlie church, wliich was formerly a cha-
pel of ease to Waverley Abbey, is at a little distance to the
south of the High Street, and is a large building, appa-
rently built about the end of the 1 3th or the beginning of
the 1 6th century. It consists of a nave continued to form
the chancel, with a north and south aisle. Its numerous
windows are adorned with tracery; and the interior con-
tains several handsome monuments, with a painting of the
12 apostles on an altar-piece. The tower, which is very
substantial, has a small turret at each cornice ; and there is
a bracket at the west end, which seems to have supported
a niche for an image. Farnham was once celebrated for
its cloth manufacture; and the hops cultivated in the vici-
nity of the town, have always been regarded as the best in
England. A great trade in Welsh hose is carried on in
the town. The following is the statistical abstract for the
town and parish in 1811 :

Number of inhabited houses 527

Number of families which occupy them . 570

Families employed in agriculture . . . 170

Do. in trade and manufactures .... 306

Males 1351

Females 1560

Total population 2911

See the Beauties of England a?id IVales, vol. xiv. page
241. West Long. 47' 57", North Lat. 51' 13' 7". See Sur-
rey, ij)

FARO, the name of a town of Portugal, in the province
of Algarvia. It is situated in a level and sandy plain, about
a league from the sea, and on the bank of the river Da
Quarteira. The town, which is quite open, is regularly
built, and has tolerably broad streets, composed of small
houses. The houses in that part of the town round the
church of San Pedro, have still a Gothic appearance, as
this was the only part of the town which escaped, when it
was plundered and burnt by the English in 1596. There
is a handsome square with some considerable buildings,
situated on the side of the river ; and one side of the town
is defended by a small citadel. Faro is the see of a Bishop,
sufl'ragan of Evora, and has a governor, a'brigadier, and a
corregidor. It contains two parishes, and three monaste-
ries. Small vessels can come up to the town, but large
ones are obliged to unload in the road or lower down the
river, which, after numerous windings, forms the narrow
entrance of the harbour a league and a half to the south-
east of the town. The harbour is defended by the fort of
San Louren^o de Olhao, situated on the east side of the
river. Another narrow arm of the river, or properly speak-
ing the sea, called a Baretta, forms an island, on which is
the sandy cape of Santa Maria. In all the maps, this isl-
and is laid down at too great a distance from the land. The
tract between the town and the sea is very marshy, and is
covered with marine plants. It is flat and sandy on the op-
posite side ; and at a distance rise the mountains of San
Miguel, which are high and steep, but well cultivated to-
wards their base.

The greater part of the trade of Algarvia is carried on
at Faro. Wine and fruits, but particularly figs, are expor-
ted in great quantities. The figs are thrown down by the
country people in a heap, in a building for this purpose.
The syrup which flows from them is used in making brandy.
They are then spread in the sun in an open situation, and
are afterwards pressed into small baskets made of the
leaves of the fan palm, each containing 28 pounds. Thev

FAROE.

are chiefly of the white kind, though the red, particularly
the Figo do Enchaiio, and do liispo, are most eslccnied.
Or;.n.;jes und Spanish reeds arc also exported from Faio
to England. Number of houses 1200; population 5000.
West'Lon[j. 7° 52', North Lat. 37° 2'. [j)

FAROE, the name given to a group of islands in the
Northern Ocean, belonging to Dennjark.

The early history of these islands, though they were colo-
nized by the same people who rendered that of Iceland so
exli-aordinary, presents nothing in the least degree interest-
ing. They appear to have licen resorted to long before Ice-
land was discovered ; and the same cause, the sul>jugation of
the petty slates of Norway by ilarold \.\w fair- haired, led to
the colonization of both in the 9th century. Those inhabitants
of Norway wlio did not chuse to submit to that victorious
monarch, left their native country, and settled in Iceland,
Faroe, Zetland, and Orkney. Lucas Debes, in his curious
work Frroa Kcsrrala, veiy justly remarks, that had the peo-
ple of Faroe, who were of the same rank with those who
betook themselves to Iceland, been equally diligent in the
cultivation of letters as their western neighlsours, we might
have had better and more interesting information handed
dowi- to us. It is not improbable that, as the Faroese em-
ployed themselves in piracy, they were objects of jealousy
and attack ; and being thus constantly engaged either in
molesting their neighbours, or in defending themselves,
education and literature would of course be neglected.

The islands were at first the property of various chiefs,
whose petty warfare seems to have lasted a long time, un-
til they were finally subdued by the kings of Norway.
The Christian religion was introduced in the year 1000 by
a native, Sigismund Bresteson, who was employed by king
Clave Trygeson. The reformed religion appears to have
been established about the middle of the 16th century.

In the last century, a very close connection between va-
rious parts of Britain and Faroe subsisted during the Ame-
rican war, and for some time after. They were found to
be a most convenient depot for goods intended to be smug-
gled into this country; and regular establishments were
made for carrying on a contraband ti-ade. The frequent
intercourse between the people of the two countries, ren-
dered the English language familiar to the Faroese, of
whom a considerable number is yet to be met with wlio
speak it with fluency. The war with France, and the destruc-
tion of the Dutch and Danish East India trade, put a final
stop to smuggling, and reduced the islands to a state of
great poverty. In the year 1808, Captain Baugh was sent
to Faroe with the Clio sloop of war, and the fort at Thors-
havn was destroyed, to prevent its being a protection to
privateers. Some time afterwards, a German, assuming
the title of Baron Ilompesch, who had obtained a letter of
marque, landed at Thorshavn, plundered the inhabitants of
every thing, and broke into the church where the public
chest was deposited. A small crucifix of silver, which
stood on the altar, was seized with eagerness, but when it
was found to be hollow, and of no great value, it was re-
stored. The British government very properly and hu-
manely refused to sanction these proceedings ; and some
disturbances having happened in the year 1809, between
some British merchants and the Icelanders, an order in
council was issued, commanding British sidijects to consi-
der the Icelanders, Faroese, and tlie people of the Danish
settlements in Greenland, as stranger friends, and permit-
ting a trade between these places and the ports of London,
Leith, and Liverpool, on certain conditions. The money,
and the value of all the goods of which Faroe and Iceland
had been robbed, were restored.

In 1811, Lieutenant Banks of the Forward gun brig, was
dispatched from Leith to make a report on the state of the

Faroe islands, representations having been made to govern-
ment, that the inliabitants were in great distress on account
of the scarcity of provisions. Two ships, in consequence
of Mr Banks' report, were permitted to carry corn and
other articles from Denmark to Faroe, and to take Faroe
goods in return, provided they touched at Leith to have
their licences annually rcvjewed. The peace concluded
with Denmark in January 1814, and tlie recent arrange-
ments with Norway and Sweden, will save the inhabitants
from the risk of famine; but unless the Danish govern-
ment becomes a little more liberal, and a little more en-
lightened, in regard to the management of their distant
possessions, the people must continue in a state of misera-
ble dependence, and without the means of improving the
little soil capable of cultivation.

Tiie Faroe islands lie between 6° !5' and 7° 43' Longi-
tude West from Greenwich, and between 61° 20' and 62°
25' North Latitude. The group consists of twenty-two is-
lamls, of which seventeen are inhabited. Their appearance,
whether when approached in fine or in bad weather, is in-
conceivably grand, especially from the south-east and west.
While the sun approaches the western horizon, and the sea
is smooth, with a gently undulating motion, nothing can
exceed the sublimity of the scenery. The stupendous mas-
ses of light and shade, and the varying tints reflected from
a thousand fantastic forms, hewn by the hand of nature
from piles of rock, many of which soar to the height of
3000 feet, produce an etlect beyond description.

The central island of the group, Slromoe, is likewise the
most extensive, and contains the highest mountain. This
island stretches (as all the others do) from nearly north-
west to south-east, being in length 25 geographical miles,
and on an average about 5 in breadth. It is deeply inden-
ted by bays and creeks, some of which form commodious
and safe harbours, particularly that of Westmanshavn,
which is fit for the reception of every description of ships.
The south-west and west coasts present finely varied and
magnificent rock scenery, more especially the west, where,
for a distance of about 12 miles, the eye meets continued
changes in the forms of the precipices. To enjoy such
scenery in perfection, and to give it the fullest effect, one
must coast along in a boat at a short distance from the
locks. The curious traveller may, in this manner, obtain
the greatest enjoyment. Sometimes he may enter a cavern,
and, after exploring it till he almost loses the light, may
find himself yet at a distance from the place, where the
swell meeting the bottom of the abyss recoils with a tre-
mendous roar. Often, while he is admiring the singular
forms of the precipices, the boat passes through a perfo-
ration, and he finds them detached from the mountain, and
standing like huge walls, towers, or castles, surrounded by
the sea. On these the sea birds have their nests, and there
the hardy fowler fearlessly robs them. On this remarka-
ble coast, the rocks soar from 1500 to 2000 feet. Each is-
land has its beauties ; and there is scarcely a promontory
or detached rock, that does not present something combi-
ning singularity with magnificence. Of these, the rock
called the Witch's Finger, and the little island called
Tindholm, the one on the east, and the other on the west
side of Vaagoe, are perhaps the most remarkable. The
former is detached from the adjoining precipice almost to
the bottoin. From some points of view, it has the appear-
ance of a grand square tower, surmounted by a lofty spire;
and when the light falls in a particular direction, the re-
semblances of a door and windows are quite distinct. This
was observed by the writer of this article at a distance
of five miles. When viewed in that position in which it
appears detached from the rock, it is not unlike a huge fin-
ger pointing- upwards. Landt states the height of this peak

FAHOK.

to be 1200 feet, and we believe that this does not much
exceed the truth. The elevation of Tindholm is probably
about 500 feet, and its singular appearance is much more
striking. On one side, though very steep, it is covered
with verdure almost to the summit, which consists of a
number of long and slender peaks ranged along the ridge,
which terminates on the opposite side a perpendicular face
of rock. In crossing the island of Vaagoe towards this
rock, its summit is seen in a form bearing a very close si-
militude to the towers and pinnacles of Westminster Ab-
bey. In some places, there are ranges of columnar rocks ;
but, in general, they are not in such situations as to render
them of much importance in the scenery. The promon-
tory of Niepen in Stromoe, presents a very beautiful range
of columns. There are some in Ostcroe, which are lofty,
but from their situation not very striking. Several very
curious columnar rocks are to be seen in Suderoe and Myg-
genaes.

The highest mountain is that called SIcellinff Fell, or
Skieli7ige Field, which rises very abruptly, terminating in
a small platform. It exceeds 3000 feet in height; but it
has not yet been very accurately measured. The frequen-
cy of fog, which often suddenly envelopes the adventurous
traveller, even in fine weather, renders the ascent of the
Faroe mountains a very hazardous undertaking. The
height of Slatturtind, in Osteroe, is 2825 feet ; and there
are several mountains in the same island, which appear
equally high.

There is nothing in Faroe which can be called a valley ;
the mountains for the most part meeting at the bottom, and
having only a small rivulet as a boundary. There are a icw
lakes, the largest of which is in the island of Vaagoe, be-
ing about three miles long, and one in breadth. Beyond
the upper end of the lakes, there is generally a small ex-
tent of flat ground.

The inhabitants have chosen for their villages such spots
as are dry, or may be rendered so easily, and which have
the advantage of a commodious landing place for boats ;
though this last, in a few instances, gives place to the for-
mer.

Many of the occupiers of land hold it in properly; and
others of the crown of Denmark, paying a tax for it of
from 20 to 40 skillings for each mark. A 7nark is an ex-
tent of land which rarely supports more than two cows du-
ring the year, though some maintain four. It is generally
reckoned to be about 8000 square Danish ells; but the
mark varies in different places, and is valued at about 600
dollars.

The whole surface of the country is very wet ; and, in
general, the soil is thin, and for the most part consists of
peat. On such a soil, under a climate, not indeed rigorous
but exceedingly moist, and consequently ungenial, from the
rays of the sun being so much excluded from the surface,
agriculture cannot be supposed to be in a flourishing con-
dition. The inhabitants being regularly supplied from
Denmark with barley and rye, and sometimes with pease,
the cultivation of grain is carried to a very small extent,
while hay for the cattle during winter is an object of the
first importance. By repeated working, the land is thrown
up into ridges, a section of which exhibits this forrii.

— the length of the ridge lying along the acclivity. This
is undoubtedly the best form that could be devised for car-
rying off the surface-water with the least damage to the
soil. When barley or turnip seeds are to be sown, or po-
tatoes planted, a large dose of manure, made up of dung
and ashes, is spread upon the first i-idge. The turf is then

cut from llie next, and laid with t!ic grassy side downwards
on the dung. This is chopped with a spade, and a little
more soil is laid on, and the seed scaltererl over it, when it
is again stirred with the spade. No grass seeds are sown;
and, before a miseralile crop of hay can be reaped, the
land must lie waste for three years, when a coarse herbage,
the greatest part of which consists of sorrel, is collected
by nature. It is a fact for which no good reason can be
discovered, that the vegetative power of the grain import-
ed from Denmark is previously destroyed by kiln-drying;
and thus the poor Faroese arc compelled to sow their own
shrivelled and unripe corn. The turnips which grow in
Faroe are a yellow sort, but small and hard ; and the potft-
toes are diniinulive and watery. Such, however, is the in-
dustry of the people in some places, that soil is often seen
laid on the flat surfaces of large stones, in which potatoes
of very good quality are produced.

The cattle are very small ; and no pains being taken to
select the best for breeding from, few are to be met with
that are well shaped. They yield but a small quantity of
milk; but it is sweet and rich. Tiie sheep vary a little in
appearance, and in the quality of their wool. This is ow-
ing to a supply having been brought to the country, after
a season of unexampled fatality among the native sheep,
partly from Iceland, and partly from Zetland. From the
wool, excellent strong stockings are manufactured, and
likewise close jackets, which are worked, like stockings,
on wires, and ornamented with figures done with variously
coloured worsted, dyed in the country. To give a yellow
colour, the Anthericum ossifragztm, Polijgonum hidrofiifier ,
Polygonum fiersicaria, and the Lycojiodiuin comjilanatum,
are used; for black, the Geranium sylvaticum; for red, the
Lichen calccreus and the Lichen tartareus; for brown, Li-
Chen saxa'.illi and Omfihaloides ; and for orange, the Lichen
ftarietinum.

The wool is torn from the sheep when the fleece begins
to loosen ; but frequently that event is not waited for, and
the skin of the animals is often cruelly lacerated. The
horses are small, and in general not well shaped. The
best are to be seen in the island of Suderoe. They are
very seldom used, except for carrying home fuel from the
mosses; there being no I'oads and no wheel carriages.

It might be supposed, that the sea around these islands
was a never-failing source of subsistence and profit to the
people who inhabit them. Formerly a considerable fishe-
ry for cod was carried on ; but now it appears, that the on-
ly bank in the vicinity (which is about two miles north of
Kalsoe) is almost totally destitute of fish. The accounts
of this failure, which the writer of this article received,
may, however, be somewhat exaggerated. It is indeed
true, that fish are not abundant on the coasts; but there
appears no inducement to prosecute the fishery with vigour.
It seems to be the policy of the Danish government, to keep
the natives of their distant possessions Ln a slate of poverty
and perpetual dependence, and to encourage merchants from
Denmark to provide them with grain and other necessaries,
which are exchanged for the woollen jackets and stockings,
the manufacture of which is the chief employment both of
the men and the women. Of these goods a very large pro-
fit is made on the continent. The price of grain, howe-
ver, is never raised to the Faroese, whatever it may cost in
Denmark; and when it is brought to Faroe, it is divided
with scrupulous accuracy, and distributed according to the
circumstances of the different classes of inhabitants.
Barley is the principal article; pease, rye meal, and oats,
being less commonly used. In the year 1812, 5650
barrels of grain and meal were imported ; and this quan-
tity was considered as a sufficient supply. There being
5120 people in all the islands together, each person,

B 2

FAROE.

supposing the provision to be equally tlivided, wouUl
have per diem aboiil hull' an Eni^lish pint of barley or meal.
But llic distiibution is not equal ; and there are a variety
of considerations which render it a complicated and trouble-
some business. The people of the principal town, Thors-
havn, not being farmers, receive a staled annual allowance of
one barrel and live-eiirhths each person; and this is not given
to them all at once, but at weekly distributions. The peo-
ple in the country have an allowance proportional to the
stock on their farms, and their success in fishing and fowl-
ing. The greater the stock, &c. the smaller is the propor-
tion of corn ; as it is supposed that a rich farmer can pur-
chase a larger quantity if he requires it. The sysselmen
or sheriffs, and the clergy, send certificates of the cases of
their respective districts to the commandant, who makes
liis calculations, and distributes the corn accordingly. The
farmers arc divided into four classes, which respectively
receive one-fourth, three-eighths, one-half and three-fourths
of a barrel of corn, when there is a full supply. It appears,
that the house of Friche Sc Co. of Copenhagen, have the
monopoly of the Faroe trade, on condition that they supply
the islands with a sufKcicnt quantity of corn at a fixed mo-
derate price. The government, at the same time, binds
itself to remunerate the merchant in the event of his losing.
How the accounts are settled seems to be a mystery ; but
it is probable that, miserable as Faroe is, the monopoly of
its trade is not unprofitable. The returns on woollen goods
are said to be between 300 and 400 lier cent, and that on
oil to be no less than 1500 per cent. Tobacco being in
very great request, it is likely that tlie exchange of this
article yields immense profit, as a good jacket has been
seen exchanged for a few leaves. But it is needless to take
lip more room with conjectures respecting what it seems
to be the interest of the merchants to keep carefully con-
cealed. It ought to be stated, however, that the writer of
this article was informed by the commandant, that since
the year 1808 there has been a loss on the Faroe trade of
half a million of dollars.

At the time when the fishery flourished, a ship of con-
siderable size used to be loaded once a year at the village
of Eyde in Osteroe, and cargoes were made up at several
other places. At times, the caing whale, as it is called in
Orkney, (and which is now supposed to be a new species,)
comes to Faroe in vast shoals. When they appear, signal
fires are lighted on the hills, and the joyful intelligence is
soon spread to every corner. In a few hours a numerous
fleet of boats is assembled ; for, whatever may have been
their employment, it is instantly forsaken to pursue these
%vhales. Sometimes shoals of a thousand and upwards are
seen sporting about the islands. Being surrounded, they
are driven into some convenient creek, where there is a
sandy beach, such as that of Midx'aag in Vaagoe. The
shoal carries forward a body of water sufficient to float
them into the creek, and when they take ground the work
of death begins. The animals are destroyed by means of
long spears. Their oil is the chief object with the people,
and it is an article in great demand in Denmark. The
jlesh is cut up, and hung to dry in wooden buildings, con-
structed of spars so as to admit plenty of air. In its dried
state, without any other preparation, it is reckoned a deli-
cacy ; but the odour forbids a stranger to approach within
several yards of this dainty.

When these welcome visitors have been slain and secur-
ed, they are valued by the sysselnian and his assistants.
The tythc is first set apart ; but the largest animal is given
to the boat's crew who first discovered the shoal, the head
being the property of the man who first descried it. Ano-
ther is set aside to be distributed among those whose boats
may have been damaged in the attack. The provost, or

dean of the clergy, has one allotted to him : and one is
given to the poor. The rest are divided into two equal
portions, one of which belongs to the proprietors of tlic
])lace where the shoal came on shore, and the other to tiiose
who assisted in driving them.

There can be little doubt that the herring fishery might
be prosecuted about Faroe with success ; but it has never
been attended to.

The only other source of subsistence which remains to
be mentioned, is the great number of sea birds which nes-
tle in the rocks. Of these, the puffin {Jlca arctica) is the
most numerous, and the most sought after. But various
other kinds are taken. The cider duck, which in some
other countries is so carefully protected for its down, is
here often shot for food. The bird-catchers are exceed-
ingly adventurous ; and as this is the first opportunity wo
have had of descril>ing this hazardous occupation of the
inhabitants of many northern countries, an account of it
may entertain our readers.

'I'he fowlers are provided with long poles, to the ends
of which arc fastened small poke nets. With this instru-
ment they generally display great dexterity in casting it
over the birds, which invariably make towards the water
when they are disturbed. It is this anxiety of the birds to
seek the element in which their security is to be found,
which gives certainty to the exertions of the fowler. The
birds push their heads through the meshes of the net,
which being dexterously inverted, keeps them suspended
by the neck.

When a fowling expedition is undertaken, two men fast-
en themselves to a rope, so that there may be eight or ten
lathoms of it between them. One assists the other to as-
cend the rock by means of a pole, at the end of which is a
hook, which is fastened to the band of the climber's breeches^
or to a rope tied round his waist, and thus he is pushed up:
But the most common method is for the climber to seat him-
self on a board fastened to the end of the pole. They often
ascend frightful cliffs without any assistance. When tha
first has got to a place where he has some footing, he helps
the other up by means of the rope to which they are both
fastened. When they have gained the elevation where the
birds are pretty numerous, they assist each other from cliff
to cliff. It sometimes happens that one of them falls and
pulls the other after him, when both are precipitated into
the sea, or dashed to pieces on the projecting rocks.
When the rocks are so high and smooth as to render it
impossible for the fowlers to ascend, they are let down by
means of a strong rope from above. To prevent the rope
being cut, a piece of wood is placed at the verge of the
precipice. By means of a small line, the fowler makes
signals to those above, and they let him down or pull him
up accordingly. When he reaches a shelf of the rock
where the birds have their nests, he unties himself, and
proceeds to take them. Sometimes he places himself on
a projecting rock, and, using his net with great adroitness,
he catches the birds as they fly past him ; and this they
call Iwining. This mode of catching birds is even practised
while the fowlers are suspended. When a projection of
the rock is between the fowler and the place where the
birds arc, he swings himself from the rock so far that he
turns round the projection. In this, great address and cou-
rage are requisite, as well as in swinging under a projec-
tion into a cavern. When he cannot, with the help of his
pole, swing far enough, he lets down a line to people sta-
tioned in a boat below, who swing him, by means of it, as
far as is neccessary to enable him to gain a safe place to
stand upon. Besides being exposed to the risk of the rope
breaking, the fowler is frequently in danger of being crush-
ed by pieces of the rock fttlling down upon him. — Such are

FAROE.

the hazardous means to which these poor people resort for
procuring Ibocl.

Seals were Ibrmcrly taken in the caverns wliich abound
on the coasts in great numbers ; but they are either not so
numerous now, or there is less inducement for their cap-
ture.

Thorshavn, the principal place in the country, is situate
on the east side of Stromoe ; the houses being built on a
narrow tongue of land jutting out into the sea. Two small
creeks are thus formed, in either of which vessels may be
safely moored, large iron rings being fixed in the rocks,
on both sides, for that purpose. The houses are construct-
ed of wood, and crowded together without any regularity.
The roofs are covered first with birch bark, brought from
Norway, over which turf is laid. The green colour of the
tops of the houses assimilating with that of the soil around
the town, renders the place almost invisible from the sea,
at a veiy short distance. The house of the commandant
is the best furnished, but that of the landfoged., (who is
here his^h sheriff as well as treasurer,) is the most spacious.
Though the exterior of the buildings does not promise
much, yet the rooms are generally neat and clean. The
church is a large wooden edifice, covered with slate, and
painted white. It has a small steeple, and altogether its
appearance is very respectable. There are many large
storehouses in different parts of the town, several of which
are now locked up, on account of the almost total annihila-
tion of trade. The prison is a small wretched building of
stone, in which those convicted of crimes, such as sheep-
stealing, are confined for several years. They are brought
out occasionally, however, to work, when any thing parti-
cular is required to be done. At the mouth of the har-
bour are the remains of a small but strong fort, the guns
of which were destroyed in the year 1808.

The houses of the farmers and of the clergy arc in gene-
ral good. In all of them the traveller will find himself hos-
pitably received, and accommodated with an apartment as
neat and clean as he could desire, though not elegant. The
hospitality of the poorFarocse is really remarkable; the rea-
diness with which they produce their little stores to share
them with a stranger; their alacrity in complying with his
wishes, and their anxiety to anticipate them, are, to a mind
not altogether devoid of feeling, truly affecting. In their
deportment they are exceedingly polite and respectful ; and
the strict honesty which was experienced by the writer in
numerous instances, during his intercourse with the na-
tives, raised their moral character very high in his estima-
tion. To religious duties they pay the most regular atten-
tion. Almost every village has a church ; and when the
priest is engaged elsewhere, or detained by the weather,
the clerk reads tiie service. On the Sunday evenings, and
on holidays, the people give themselves up to merriment.
In fine weather, groups of them are seen in the fields, form-
ed into circles, moving round in slow cadence, (which they
call dancing,) to a song in which sometimes 15 or 20 voices
join. The subject of the song is usually some atchieve-
ment of their forefathers, or the history of faithful lovers ;
and the airs are wild and not without harmony ; they are,
on such occasions, dressed in their gayest clothes, and they
often continue for several hours, singing and dancing witii
scarcely any intermission.

Debes relates several superstitions v.'hich were prevalent
in his time, but which are now exploded. Still, however,
some remnants of credulity may be traced, and some per-
sons are to be found, who believe that they have seen the
phantoms of people at a distance, at the moment they ex-
pired, and thus had notice of their death. In this respect
the Faroese are not more superstitious than the common
people in many districts of our own country.

Barley bread is that which is commonly used in Faroe,
rye being imported in very small quantities; this, with milk
or fat, constitute breakfast. In the autumn, when the lambs
are slaughtered for drying, the blood is boiled with th«
milk. Dinner consists of fish and water gruel, improved
by being boiled with bones or fat. Soup is sometimes made
with fresh or dried meat, and turnip leaves. Dried lamb is
eaten raw with tallow, and dried whale flesh is esteemed a
delicacy. On holidays a large pot is placed on the fire,
and a quantity of sea-birds boiled for supper. The quan-
tity of fat which these people devour, and the state in which
the rest of their animal food is taken into the stomach,
might be deemed unwholesoine; yet diseases arc not fre-
quent, the appearance of the inhabitants being every where
robust and healthy ; the children, however, are generally-
puny looking, their legs being particularly slim. I'evers
and rheumatism are the rnost common diseases, and Landt
asserts that the stone is more frequent in Faroe than in
other countries. The amall-pox seldom visits Faroe ; and,
at the present time there is not a native who has had the
disease, except one who caught the infection in Denmark.
Elephantiasis was formerly a prevalent disorder, and an
hospital was established near Thorshavn for the reception
of lepers. The remedies used by the natives are simple,
and, as might be expected, harmless and ineffectual, such
as soaking the parts affected in water, into which a piece of
old gold or silver coin, or some ornament, is put, and decoc-
tions of various plants applied externally. The only sur-
gical operation performed is the extirpation of the uvula,
when, from relaxation, it lengthens and obstructs the pas-
sage to the stomach and lungs. There is a surgeon esta-
blished at Thorshavn, with a salary from the Danish go-
vernment ; but his skill is not much improved by practice.

The dress of the men of Faroe consists entirely of wool-
len stuffs, manufactured in the country. Their jackets,
which are worn in their ordinary occupations, are knitted,
and ornamented with figures in coloured worsted. In full
dress, they wear a long frock of a dark brown or black co-
lour, and breeches of tlie same. Their shoes are made of
sheep skin, slightly tanned with the root of tormentilla.
They are formed by cutting a piece of skin of a proper
length and breadth, and puckering, very neatly, the parts
for the toes and heel : the fastening is a white woollen thong,
knitted for the purpose, and tied round the legs. The dress
cap is formed like a bishop's mitre; on ordinary occasions
they wear woollen caps, and sometimes caps of skin, with
the hairy part outermost. The men never cut their hair ;
and to appearance seldom comb or wash it.

The women wear their hair combed backwards from the
forehead, and have white linen caps with a broad stiff bor-
der of coarse lace, rising perpendicularly. The cap is fas-
tened by a coloured silk or cotton kerchief tied under the
chin, with a piece of ribbon floating behind. The rest of
the dress much resembles that of the peasantry in most
parts of Scotland, the materials being coarser. They wear
aprons, and cotton kerchiefs over the shoulders and bosom.
The greater the number, and the more gaudy the colours,
the more superb is a dress esteemed. A bride on her
wedding-day is very gaudily ornamented : a red or blue
jacket, with long skirts puckered up into folds, having long
sleeves, with velvet cuffs and lace ruffles, constitutes the
principal part of the dress. The kerchief worn round tlie
neck is, on this occasion, white, with a border of lace. On
tlie bosom is fastened a large pin or broach, having a broad
silver plate in the shape of a lozenge, to which are appended
a great number of small flat pieces of silver, which, on the
wearer moving, make a jingling noise. The head dress is
much ornamented with ribbands, and gold and silver orna-
ments.

FAROE.

The language of the Faroesc, from the circumstance of
its never having- I)een written since the settlement of the
people in the islands, has become very difTcrent from what
it was originally. It may still 1)e tiaccd, however, to its
parent the Scandinavian, or, as it may now he called, the
Icelandic. Almost all the natives can speak the Danish
language, in which divine service is performed.

There are now no schools in Taroe ; but parents do not
neglect to teach their children to read, and sometimes to
write. The people are fond of reading ; and several of
them, with whom the writer of this article conversed,

shewed great eagerness for information of every kind. One
of them to whom he explained the use of the barometer,
which seemed to excite great curiosity, was exceedingly
delighted, and appeared to comprehend perfectly its use
in measuring the heights of mountains. lie remarked that
he was now an old man, but that he could never be too
old to learn. The name of this person is Hana yllaik. He
conducted Sir John Stanley through some of the islands
upwards of 20 years ago, and was the interpreter and guide
of tliC writer of this article.

Statiatical Table 1812.

Calves,

Sheep and

Boats

No. of

Men

Women

Boys not

Gil Is not

Milch

Heifers,

Stock of

Lambs

Boats ot

Boats of

Names of the Islands.

Inh.-tbi-

Confirm-

Confirm.

Cows.

Oxen &

Sheep.

Slaupliter-

eight

SIX

four

tants.

ed.

Bulls.

ed.

Oais.

Oars.

Northern Islands . .

710

232

238

126

114

271

5192

346 1

Osteroe

1256

412

421

208

215

503

125

7717

5145

Strornoe and Nalsoe

1075

378

351

167

179

437

109

8805

5670

Town of Thorshavn

518

157

209

204

136

Vaagoe

496

174

182

210

5902

3935

Sandoe

435

163

157

245

4309

2939

Suderoe

719

250

257

111

101

298

3178

2152

5209

1766

1815

822

806

1992

506

35,307

23,438

142

327

The census mentioned by Landt was taken in 1782, and
the number then was 4409, which gives an increase in
1812 of 800.

Where mechanical labour is so little required, separate
trades are not to be looked for. Every one can provide
himself with clothing, and can act as a carpenter. Boat
building is carried on chiefly in Nalsoe. Both men and
tvomen employ themselves in spinning wool and in knit-
ting. The Farocse loom is a very rude machine; but the
cloth which it forms is of a very good texture. The loom
consists of two upright posts set up against the wall, and
having two projections to support the beam, to which the
upper ends of the warp are fixed, the lower being attach-
ed to stones, which keep the threads stretched tight. The
woof is passed through the warp by the hand, and forced
up against the warp by means of a small piece of wood ;
after which it is pushed firm by means of a smooth whale
rib. This operation is exceedingly slow, as at each move-
ment the threads must be unwound from the stones. In
Thorshavn there are a few looms of improved construc-
tion.

The trade is carried on by the Danish government
through the intervention of a respectable house in Copen-
hagen. The exports are stockings and jackets, train oil,
feathers, and skins. Tallow, fish, and butter, are now so
scanty, as scarcely to supply the wants of the natives. The
imports are, grain, fishing materials, tobacco, a little su-
gar and coffee, timber, tar, nails, lead, gunpowder, and
some other articles, all in very small quantities. Stock-
ings and jackets are at present the chief articles of export.

The revenue is collected out of the produce of the coun-
try. For every sheep of the permanent or estimated stock
of each farm, a lamb's skin is paid ; and, for every sixty
sheep killed, 36 lbs. of tallow, and thirty skins. The pro-
portion of wool paid as tax, is sold at a fixed price to the
people of Thorshavn. Formerly, the whole revenue usu-
ally amounted to between 3000 and 4000 rixdoUars.

The religious establishment of Faroe is now under the
superintendance of a provost. There are seven parishes,
and 59 places of worship, so that the duty of the clergy
is exceedingly laborious. The stipends are inconside-
rable, and are chiefly paid in kind. To the glebes a per-
manent stock of sheep, and sometimes a few cows, is at-
tached. Glebes are also provided for the widows of the
clergy.

The civil establishment is under the direction of a mili-
tary officer, commanding 30 men, who maintain the form
of mounting guard, and keeping a look out for ships. Un-
der the commandant are, the landfoged or treasurer, and
the sysselmen, or governors of districts.

The natural history of these islands, if we except the
ucpartment of mineralogy, presents nothing that is un-
common to other countries in the same latitude. On the
contrary, they are very deficient both in their botanical and
zoological productions; and to enumerate what they do
possess would be quite uninteresting. The islands are
formed almost exclusively of trap; beds of wood coal, and
pitch coal, forming the only exception. The most common
characters of the trap are amygdaloidal and porphyritic;
greenstone occurring chiefly in the columnar form, and
basalt in veins assuming commonly the same form. The
amygdaloids contain every known variety of zeolite in the
greatest perfection; and in the island of Nalsoe, native
crystallized copper occurs in the same kind of rock. A
great variety of beautiful chalcedonies, common and semi-
opal, are to be found in great abundance; and the island of
Suderoe furnishes elegant jaspers. There are some very-
remarkable geological facts to be seen in different parts of
the islands; but as these are closely connected with some,
equally curious and important, which were discovered in
Iceland, we will defer giving a particular account of them,
till we come to that article.* See Lucas Debes Feroa
Reserala, 1670. Descriplion of the Faroe Islands, by the
Rev. G. Landt, translated from the Danish, London, 1810.

The Editor has been indebted for this interesting account of the Faroe Isles to Sir George Mackensib, Bart, who visited them in
company with Thomas Allen, Esq. in the summer of 1812.

FAR

Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, vol. vii.
1814.

FARQUHAR, George, an eminent English comic
writer, was bom in the year 16"8. His father was a re-
spectable clergyman in the north of Ireland, who, having
a numerous family, could not bestow any fortune upon him,
but resolved to give him such an education, as might ena-
ble him to prosecute some genteel profession.

Farquhar discovered an early taste for literary pursuits,
and is said to have written verses when only ten years of
age. In 1694, he repaired to Trinity College, Dublin,
where he made such progress in his studies, as procured
for him considerable reputation. It would appear, how-
ever, that his prudence was not equal to his literary at-
tainments ; for he was expelled the college, in conse-
quence of having adventured profane wit upon a sacred
theme, given to him, as an exercise, by his tutor.

At an early period of life, he turned his attention to tlie
stage, intending to follow the profession of an actor; in
which career he was not very eminently successful. He
possessed an engaging person, and genteel manners, but
his voice was weak, and he had a natural timidity in pub-
lic, which he could never overcome, and which was ex-
tremely prejudicial to his appearance on the stage. He
resolved, however, to continue the exercise of this pro-
fession, until some better prospect should open; but this
resolution he is said to have abandoned, in consequence of
the following accident. While performing the part of
Guyomar, in the Indian Em}\eror, who is supposed to kill
Vasquez, one of the Spanish generals, having forgotten
to exchange his sword for a foil, in the engagement he
wounded the person who represented Vasquez, though not
dangerously ; and this unfortunate incident had the efl'ect
of preventing him from again appearing on the stage as
an actor.

Some time after this, the Earl of Orrery gave him a
lieutenancy in his regiment, then in Ireland; and Farqu-
har is said to have conducted himself well as a soldier. He
was honoured and beloved by his comrades, and proved
himself to be a man of courage and conduct.

In the year 1 704, he married a lady, who was so vio-
lently in love with him, that, despairing to win him by her
own personal attractions, she contrived a deep scheme of
imposition, by which she allured him into wedlock, under
the impression that he had married a woman of immense
fortune. But it redouncVs highly to the honour of Farqu-
har, that, after he had discovered the deceit which had
been practised upon him, he entirely forgave the lady her
fault, in consideration of her love and accomplishments;
and always treated her with kindness, although this un-
fortunate marriage is supposed to have conduced, with
other circumstances, to shorten his days: for his fortune
was too slender to support a family ; and the maintenance
of his wife and children reduced him to the utmost pover-
ty, while his anxiety for their welfare preyed upon his spi-
rits, and injured his health. He died at the age of 29, four
years after his unhappy marriage, and is said to have met
ills fate with fortitude and cheerfulness. He left two
daughters, whom, in the following letter, written a few days
before his decease, he recommended to the protection of
Wilkes, the celebrated actor, with whom he had contract-
ed a sincere and intimate friendship when upon the stage,
and for whom he wrote the famous character of Sir Harry
Wilder, in the Constant Couple.

« Dear Bob,

" I have not any thing to leave you to perpetuate my
memory, except two helpless girls ; look upon them some-

times, and think of him that was, to the last moment of his
life, thine, — George Farquhar."

Wilkes humanely complied with the dying request of
his friend, and assisted in providing for the children. Their
mother died in great indigence.

Farquhar was eminently successful as a dramatic writer.
During the vicissitudes of a chequered life, as a man of
fashion, an actor, an officer in the army, an author, a lover,
and a husband, his experience had supplied him with inci-
dents, and his observation and reflection with a knowledge
of human nature. His subjects are generally well chosen,
his characters well sustained, his style pure and lively, his
dialogue easy and spirited. But his humour is not remark-
able for delicacy; and his plays have an obvious tendency
to encourage licentiousness of manners, and a disregard of
moral principle.

He wrote seven comedies, of which the most esteemed
are. The Constant Coufile, The Liconstant, The Recruiting
Officer, and The Beaux Stratagem, which are still occa-
sionally acted, and preserve their popularity on the stage.

FARS, or Farsistan, is a province of the kingdom of
Persia, bounded on the north by Irak, on the east by Ker-
man and Laristan, on the west by Kuzistan, and on the
south by the Sea of Oman. It is divided into two climates,
the warm and the cold, which are designated by the names
of Germaseer and Sirhud. The warm climate extends
from the sea to the latitude of Kazeroon, and then runs pa-
rallel with the Gulf from the banks of the Tab to the con-
fines of Laristan. When the periodical rains/are abundant,
the sandy plain at the foot of the mountain produces a con-
siderable quantity of dry grain ; but when the rains are
less abundant, a famine generally happens. This sandy
plain, which is called Dushtistan, is divided into the dis-
tricts of Lecrawee and Hiadouat, which are separated from
each other by the projecting mountain called Kopi Bung.

These districts, which contain only a few wretched mud
villages, are very badly cultivated. The Cold region
stretches from the parallel of Kazeroon to that of Yezdek-
hast, on the borders of Irak. It comprehends most of the
mountainous part of Fars. The mountain vallies are gen-
erally 8 or 10 miles broad, and from 15 to 100 long. They
afford abundance of pasturage, and are commonly fertile,
though ill cultivated. The plains of Sheeraz, Kazeroon,
and Merdesht, however, are in pretty good cultivation;
but, towards the north and west, they are almost unpeopled.
Mr Kinneir travelled, in 1809, above sixty miles between
Behaban and Sheeraz, through the most charming wooded
vallies, without seeing the face of a human being. An an-
cient tribe which formerly inhabited them, had been almost
extirpated by the orders of the prince ; and the few which
had escaped to the summits of the lofty mountains, subsis-
ted upon a wretched kind of bread made from acorns, and
upon the pillage of travellers.

The eastern part of the province towards Darabgherd
and Fesa is more open. The soil is more sandy, and the
plains more extensive.

The range of mountains seen from the coast is not a se-
parate range,but a branch of Mount Zagros, which stretches
in a continued succession of ridges from the borders of the
Persian Gulph to the Caspian Sea and Mount Caucasus.

The hills in this province towards Bushire, are about 24
miles from the sea. The plain becomes contracted towards
Bunder Reig; and to the west of the village of Gunava, a
low ridge suddenly projects to the south, and terminates at
the sea shore in the projecting point of Kohi Bung, which
separates the districts of Leerawee and Hiadouat. This
point is not high, but is about 7 or 8 miles broad, and be-
yond it lies the plain of Leerawee. The mountains are here

FAR

FAS

again 20 miles distant from the sea, and for 18 or 19 miles
tlicy preserve this distance, but afterwards approach the
soutli, and assume a circular form near Bunder Ueeluni.
On turning the southern point of this low and advanced
branch, which is called Zcitoun, from a small town near
Bchaban, they again retire to the north, and at the port of
the Mashoor they arc 30 miles from the sea. Their most
southern extremity at Sinister, crosses the 32d degree of
North Latitude, in the 49th degree of J'ast Longitude.

The principal rivers, are the Tab, the ylrosis of the an-
cients ; the Jerahi, tlie ancient Fasitigri.i ; the Bund Emeer,
and several others whose modern names are not mentioned.
The Tab, which is llie largest, is formed by the union of
two streams near Zeitoon, one of which rises at the foot of
the high hill of Kamarah, and the other near that of Ardi-
coone, about 45 miles north-west of Shceraz. Mr Kinneir
considers this latter branch as the river mentioned by Arrian
in the march of Alexander. The Tab separates I'ars from
Kuziblan, and passes through the town of Endian, vi'here it
is 80 yards wide (in Feb.) and navigable for boats of 20 tons
burthen. There is a ford about 9 miles above the town ;
and the Tab discharges itself into the sea about 16 miles
below Endian. The water of this river is perfectly sweet
■when it passes Zeitoon ; but in running over the hills to-
wards Endian, it becomes so brackish as hardly to be fit
for use. This is also the case with all the other rivers in
Fars, which empty themselves into the Persian Gulf.

The river Jerahi, which is next in size to the Tab, rises
in the mountains immediately behind Behaban, and after
flowing within a few miles of that city, it passes through
the vale of Ram Hormuz to old Dorak, in the territory of
the Chab Sheikh, where the Arabians have erected a dam,
for the purpose of irrigating the fields, leaving two chief
branches, one of which passes on the outside and the other
through Dorak. The marshes in the neighbourhood of
this town are occasioned by the lesser branches. One of
the principal branches enters the Karoon above Sabla, and
the other empties itself into the sea at Goban. In passing
through the vale of Ram Hormuz the Jerahi receives a ra-
pid river, which flows from the mountains about six miles
east of the town of Ram Hormuz. This tributary stream
contains a great body of water, and is not fordable after the
melting of the snows. It is the river alluded to in the
marches of Timour. The river Bund Emeer, called by
some of the ancients Cyrus, and by the Greek historians
Araxes, flows through the delightful valley of ISIerdesht,
adorned v/ith the ruins of Persepolis, and in the rich dis-
tricts of Kurjan it is subdivided into numerous streams for
irrigating the fields. The remaining part of the river is
joined by Shamier, a small stream which rises in a hot
fountain, three miles from Gazian, a town about 90 miles
from Sheeraz, and afterwards passes the villages of Kumu
and Sy vund. The united streams then discharge themselves
into the lake Baktegan.

In travelling from Bushire to Endian, Mr Kinneir passed
other four rivers. The first of these rises among the moun-
tains behind the old city of Shapour, and after running
through -this city, and watering the villages of Kesht and
Dalkee, it enters the Gulf a little to the south of Rohilla.
Mr Kenneir supposes it to be the ancient Herate7us. At
Rohilla it is 60 yai-ds broad and six feet deep. The second
river, which he supposes to be the Granis of Arrian, is only
seven miles to the north-west of this. It discharges itself
into the sea half way between Rohilla and Bunder Reig ;
but it is neither so wide nor so deep as the former. The
third, which is the Roganis of Arrian, runs with a south-
west course from the mountains, and throws itself into the
sea three miles north-east of Gunuva. It is almost equal in
breadth to that of Rohilla. At high water it is impassable,

but it Is only three feet deep during the ebb. The last and
the smallest river, which is probably the Drizana of Arrian,
flows between Ilissar arid Bunder Deelum. After a wan-
dering course from the hills of Zeitoon, it discharges itself
into the Gulf, eight miles south-east of Bunder Deelum.

The salt lake of Baktegan is about 75 English miles in
circumference, and is situated about 10 miles south-east of
Sheeraz. In sunmier, when it is nearly dry, the people on
its banks collect the salt, which encrusts the bottom. This
salt is generally used throughout the province, and is rec-
koned veiy line.

The principal towns in Ears are Sheeraz the capital,
Kazeroon about 70 miles nearly'west of Sheraz, Shapour,
Bushire, Bunder Reig a sea-port with about 300 or 400 in-
habitants, Bunder Deelum another sea-port having about
700 inhabitants, Zeitoon with a population of about 2000,
Bchalran, the capital of the mountainous district of Khogi-
loea, having walls about three miles in circumference, and
nearly 10,000 inhabitants, I'allayoom, Selbistan with 4000
inhabitants, Niris, Feza, Danibjerd with 15,000 or 20,000
inhabitants, and Ursinjan. For more complete information
respecting these towns, see Kenneir's Geos^rafthical Me-
moir of the Persian £m/iire, page 54 — 81, to which we arc
indebted for all the information contained in this article, (iv)

FASCINATION is the name given to an influence
which certain animals are supposed to possess over other
animals, which serve them for food. This faculty has
been ascribed to toads, hawks, cats, owls, tigers, and
various other animals, but particularly to the rattlesnake
and other American serpents. It is supposed by some na-
turalists, as Kalm,that the small birds, squirrels. See. which
have been seen to fall from the branches of trees into the
mouth of the rattlesnake, must have been previously bitten
by the snake ; and being thus debilitated, were unable ei-
ther to escape or to remain upon the tree. Others, as La
Cepede, suppose that the rattlesnake produces the effect
by a stupifying vapour emitted from its body ; while others,
as Linnaeus and Blumenbach, ascribe the effect solely to
the terror inspired by the rattle which is supposed to re-
side in the tail of this animal. Dr Benjamin Smith Barton
of Philadelphia, has drawn up two very interesting me-
moirs, the object of which is to prove that there is no solid
foundation for the opinion that serpents are endued with
the faculty of fascinating and charming other animals, and
we think that he has succeeded, at least, in rendering this
opinion very doubtful, if not in completely overturning it.
Such of our readers as wish to prosecute the subject, are
referred to the following works, where they will find ample
information on the subject.

See Pliny, ///«?. A'at. lib. viii. cap. 14. Linnseus Systema
A'atum, art. Crotalus Horridus. Professor Peter Kalm,
Tra-veh into jVorth A?nerica, vol. i. p. 317, 318 ; vol. ii. p.
207, 208, 209, 210, Eng. Transl. London, 1770 — 1. Kalm,
Me?noirs of the Swedish Academy of Sciences for 1753. Ma-
ther, Phil. Trans. No. 339. Hans Sloane, Phil. Trans.
1734, vol. xxxviii. No. 433. p. 321. Dudley, Phit. Trans.
1723, vol. xxxii. No. 376. p. 292. La Cepede, Histoire
.Yaturelle des Serfiens,\i. 409 — 411, Paris, 1789. Pennant's
Arctic Zoology, vol. ii. p. 338, London, 1792. Monthly Re-
view, \o\. ii. App. p. 511. Blumenbach, Handbuch der
AFaturgeschichte, p. 253. Getting. 1791. Benjamin Smith
Barton, American Trarisactioiis-, vol. iv. This paper was
published separately under the title of A Memoir concern-
ing the Pascinathig Faculty ivhich has been ascribed to the
Rattlesnake, and other American Serjients, Piiiladelphia,
1798. Barton's Sit/ifilement to the above Me?noir, Philadel-
phia, 1801. The preceding papers are published also in
A'icholson's Journal, vol. vii. p. 270 ; vol. viii. p. 58, 100 ;
vol. xiii. p. 300. Blumenbach's Reply to Dr Smith Barton^

FAS

was published in Voigtn Magazin fur der ncitcstc7i znntand
der JVaturkunde, Part II. 17y8, and in Tillocli's Philo.so/ihi-
cat Magazine., vol. ii. p. 251. See also Ironside in I lie PA//.
JSiag. vol. xiv. p. 319 ; Geiitlcmaii's Magazine, 176,), p. 5 1 1;
Toplis, .Pliit. Magazine, vol. xix. p. 379 ; and Micliaclis,
Goltingen Magazine, January 1785. {j)

FASTING, the partial or total abstinence of mankind
and animals from the ordinary reciuisite supply of aliment,
by which is to be understood that quantily'which is adapted
to preserve them in a healthy and vigorous condition.

\Ve have already given a few examples under Absti-
nence, of the faculty of living creatures to resist destruc-
tion, while exposed to absolute privation of sustenance; and
■\ve shall now take a brief view of the consequences of di-
minishing the usual subsistence of mankind. It is a preva-
lent opinion, that the sudden reduction of food will imme-
diately prove destructive, especially if to a great extent;
and that death will ensue from total privation, even for the
shortest term beyond the hiterval of gratifying our accus-
tomed necessities. Hut nothing can be more erroneous;
for the reverse is satisfactorily established by well-authen-
ticated instances. >

Those animated tribes whose subsistence is derived from
the uncertain capture of prey, and in this number man
must be ranked in his original state, are in general capable
of resisting the impressions of hunger for a considerable
period. Sleep follows the labours of the chase, and diges-
tion is not conducted with rapidity. Removed from that
original state, however, custom usurps the place of nature ;
and, on looking to the enormous quantities of food consu-
ined by those aroimd us, we should be apt to conclude, that
not less than several pounds daily are required for the pre-
servation of health and vigour. Probably there is no race
of mankind on the known globe, that practises such an in-
drdgence of appetite as a large proportion of th.e popula-
tion of these kingdoms, nor by whom any abridgment
would be more sensibly felt ; and it accordingly appears,
that in warfare, n occurrence of such occasions, the same
energies decline, which, opposed to the combatants of
other nations, have previously proved successful.

In some uncivilized countries, the supplies of food are
scanty and precarious. After enjoying one meal, a long
interval may elapse before obtaining another; yet the inlia-
bitants do not diminish. On the Continent of Europe, the
ineals of the people for the most part are few and sparing;
and the inhabitants of the East are almost universally ab-
stemious: a cake of meal, and camel's milk, are the chief
s\ibsistence of the Arabians : millions of Indians subsist on
rice alone, with water for their only beverage. Nay, if we
look into the state of the poorer classes in some parts of
the British domiliions, we shall find many families subsist-
ing on nothing but potatoes, with scarcely the addition of
milk.

But there are countries absolutely sterile by nature,
though inhabited by men ; others have not yet been re-
claimed by agricultural operations, or, if they have, the un-
certainty of the climate frequently disappoints the labours
of the husbandman; and in this way does the first grada-
tion of fasting arise. The vast continent of New Holland,
except for few and distant patches, exliibits an universal
aspect of sterility. The vegetable kingdom scarce offers
any substance for consumption ; there is hardly a species
of fruit exceeding the size of a cherry ; nutritious roots are
rarely discovered ; and, in so wide and.cpen a territory, the
animal tribes can seldom be obtained for sustenance. The
incessant pursuit of those of larger size, as the cassowary
and kangaroo, has rendered them shy, while it diminishes
their numbers. Fishing is a precarious resource, both from
the imperfect implements of the savages, from the storms

Vol. XI. Part I.

v/hich constantly assail their coasts, and more especially
from the migration of the fishes themselves. The lank vi-
sages and emaciated bodies of the natives of the Andaman
islands, indicate how sparingly the cravings of nature are
satisfied. They live in an abject and degraded state ; and,
like brutes, their whole time is occupied in obtaining a
supply of food. Hitherto no attempts have been made by
them to cultivate the lands upon which they dwell ; and
their whole subsistence is derived from v/hat they can col-
lect or kill. Though their country be less inhospitable
than that of the New Hollanders, and their vegetable diet
consist of the produce of their woods, little is found there
which is palatable to Europeans ; and, as they have no ves-
sel which can withstand the action of fire, they are unable to
reap much advantage from such esculent herbs as may be
contained in them. Their principal subsistence depends
on collecting fish from the reefs at the recess of the tide;
and the greatest part of the drudgery of doing so, falls on
the women, while the men occupy themselves with hunt-
ing in the forests.

Independent of natural sterility, there are countries
which, after it has been conquered by the industry of man-
kind, are occasionally visited by famine. In Norway and
Lapland, during times of scarcity from unexpected failure
of the crops, the inhabitants grind down the bark of trees,
which, with the addition of a little meal for a relish, is
baked into cakes ; and these are represented not to be un-
palatable, while they are sufficient for the preservation of
life. Famine more terrible is experienced in populous
countries, such as occurred a few -ears ago in Bengal,
when many thousands perished ; ana such as are of fre-
quent recurrence in the great empire of China, where they
seem to threaten the very extirpation of the people.

This calamity, no doubt, allords too many examples of
the sufferings of abstinence ; but Jhose are principally re-
corded which have arisen from shipwreck, and similar ac-
cidents, from peculiar mental affections, or from the body
bciug in a morbid state, or from the two latter combined.
Neither is it to be omitted, that voluntary fasting, in ob-
servance of religious ceremonies, has frequently been car-
ried to a great extent. Thus the Mahometans, during one
of their fasts, are scarcely sensible of inconvenience in fast-
ing 40 days, from sunrise to sunset. In sacred writ it is
recorded, that Esther, the queen of Ahasuerus, when ap-
prehensive of a public calamity, said, " Go and gather
together all the Jews that are present in Shushan, and fast
ye for me: and neither eat nor drink 3 days, night or day.
I also, and my maidens, will fast likewise ; and so will I
go in unto the king, which is not according to the law : and
if I perish, I perish. So Mordecai went his way, and did
according as Esther had commanded him." To descend
to modern times, however, Dr Perciv.il of Manchester
relates, that he was informed by a young Genevese phy-
sician who had studied at Montpelier, that he then fasted
three days and four nights, without any other refreshment
than a pint of water daily. But during this probation,
though his person did not suffer, he was affected with
mental imbecility; a general consequence of thus exhaust-
ing the powers of nature. In a melancholy and well-au-
thenticated instance of shipwreck, which occurred in Uie
year 1795, 72 individuals were compelled to take shelter
in the shrouds of the vessel, while the hull was covered
by the sea, where all survived during five days, witiiout a
morsel of food; but it appears tiiat they were enabled to
catch a few drops of rain as it fell, and some of them wei-e
drenched with the spray. A term of abstinence still long-
er, is equally authenticated in the case of Thomas Travers,
who, on Saturday the 4th of December 1784, entered a
coal pit 270 feet deep, the sides of which immediately fell

FASTING.

in. Tlie quantily of earth was so great, that six days were
occupied in removing it; and no one could at firbl venture
to pc:ietr;itc the pit, on account of the foul air which was
evidently present. Sonic miners, bolder than their com-
panions, made a new attempt on Friday, and, guided by
the traces of his work, found the unfortunate man lying
on his face in a cavity. He could raise his head, but his
hands and feet were cold, and pulsation almost extinct.
Immediate relief was afforded ; but next morning he be-
came indifferent about food, and, having announced his
own dissolution, expired in a few iniiiutes, on Sunday after-
noon, after fasting seven days. Tliis example illustrates
the opinion of Hippocrates, though it is not corroborated
by others, namely, that fasting less than seven days is not
invariably fatal, but after that period, notwithstanding in-
dividuals may survive and take food, their previous ab-
stinence will occasion death. It is to he observed, that
liere was an instance of absolute privation. In the year
1768, Captain Kennedy was shipwrecked, with 12 com-
panions, in the West Indies. They preserved a small
quantily of provisions, which were totally consumed in
seven days, amidst extraordinary distresses. During eight
succeeding days, though in absolute want, both of meat
and drink, and exposed in an open boat, the whole sur-
vived ; but, after obtaining relief, some of the people
perished. In this case they were evidently supported by
being frequently drenched with sea-water. Sir William
Hamilton, in an account of a dreadful earthquake which
devastated Sicily and Calabria in the year 1783, relates
that he saw two girls who were miraculously preserved
in the ruins of a house. One had survived eleven entire
days, and the other, six, totally deprived of food.

It must not escape observation, that the difference be-
tween absolute privation of food, and a supply of any por-
tion of it, is incommensurable. The same may almost be
said of water ; for it materially contributes to preserve
life : and hence the difficulties of ascertaining what is truly
protracted fasting. The Negro couriers, who traverse the
deserts on the western coast of Africa, perform long and
fatiguing journeys on about four ounces of food daily. It
is said that, in common situations, both they and the Moors
are frequently seen to subsist eight days on three ounces
of gum daily, without sensible diminution of health or
vigour ; and some maintain, that they can fast three days
without any inconvenience. The whole store of a courier
at his outset, consists only of a pound of gum, a little gril-
led rice, and several ounces of hard animal jelly, com-
pounded with a fourth of its weight in gum. This sub-
stance is decidedly nutritious ; for we are told, that when
the whole provisions of a caravan had been exhausted in
the deserts between Abyssinia and Egypt, a thousand per-
sons subsisted on gum, which was found to form part of
the merchandize ; and the caravan reached Cairo in safety,
without any remarkable accidents from hunger or disease.
The compound of the Negro couriers may possess par-
ticular qvialities in repelling hunger, such as that which,
among the primitive inhabitants of this island, is said to
have proved sufficient, if equivalent to a bean, for a whole
day ; and some of the American Indians, wl>en engaged in
long excursions, have similar expedients for blunting the
keen sensations which they would otherwise experience.
A composition of calcined shells and tobacco juice is form-
ed into a mass, from which, when dry, pills of a proper
size, to be kept dissolving between the gum and the lip,
are made. Without such artificial preparations, however,
long and perilous voyages have been accomplished, with-
out more than a ship's biscuit divided into a number of
pieces daily. Captain Inglefield, and eleven men, of the
Centaur man of war, which foundered at sea in the year

1782, sailed 800 miles in a yawl, while their sole provi-
sions consisted of a twelfth part of a biscuit for each of
two meals a day, and a glass of water, continued during
ten or fifteen days. Still more perilous was the voyage of
Captain Bligh and 18 men of the Bounty, who saded a
great portion of 3600 miles in an open boat in stormy seas,
on an allowance of an ounce and a quarter of biscuit daily ;
and sometimes when a bird, the size of a pigeon, was ac-
cidentally caught, it served for a meal to the whole crew.
We shall not be much surprised, therefore, at the experi-
ments made by some people on themselves, from which it
ajjpeared that fasting on half a pound of bread daily with
a pint of liquid was productive of no inconvenience. Still
there is an infinite difference between all this and absolute
privation, because nutriment is derived from the solids
received, and these solids may be of very various descrip-
tions. Sea weed has afforded many grateful meals to
famished sailors. In the year 1652, two brothers, acciden-
tally abandoned on an islet in a lake of Norway, subsisted
twelve days on grass and sorrel, and suffered nothing in
consequence of their diet.

Few instances can be given of absolute privation both
of solids and liquids ; but in the case above referred to,
where 72 persons took shelter in the shrouds of a vessel,
fourteen actually survived during twenty-three days with-
out food, though a few drops of rain were occasionally
caught in their mouths as they fell. Some of the survivors
also drank sea water, but it was not so with all. In the year
1789, it appears that Caleb Elliott, a religious visionary,
determined to fast forty days. During sixteen he obsti-
nately refused all kinds of sustenance, and then died, be-
ing literally starved to death. It is said, that not long ago
two convicts in the jail of Edinburgh lived fourteen days
without food, and receiving liquids only ; and in the re-
cords of the Tower of London, there is reported to be pre-
served an instance of a Scotchman, who, strictly watched,
was seen to fast during six weeks, after •which he was
liberated on account of his uncommon powers of absti-
nence. Morgagni, an Italian physician, refers to an in-
stance of a woman, who obstinately refused all sustenance,
except twice, durhig fifty days, and took only a sq^ll quan-
tity of water, when she died. An avalancfie some years
ago overwiielmed a village in Switzerland, and entombed
three women in a stable, where there was a she goat, and
also some hay. Here they survived 37 days on the milk
afforded them by the goat, and were in perfect health
when relieved. But one of the best authenticated in-
stances of excessive fasting in modern times, a»d in which
there is no evidence of any particular morbid affection of
the body, is related by Dr Willan. In the year 1 786, a
young man, partly a religious visionary, and partly suppos-
ing himself to labour under some inconsiderable com-
plaints, thought to operate a cure by abstinence. He sud- .
denly withdrew from his friends, occupied himself in copy-
ing the Bible in short hand, to which he added his own
commentaries, and resolved to abstain from all solid food,
only moistening his mouth from time to time with water
slightly flavoured with the juice of oranges. He took no
exercise, slept little, and spent most of the night in read-
ing, while his daily allowance was between half a pint and
a pint of water, with the juice of two oranges. In this
state of abstinence he persisted 60 days ; but during the
last ten his strength rapidly declined, and finding himself
unable to rise from bed he became alarmed. The delusion
which had hitherto impressed him of being supported by
preternatural means now vanished, and along with it his
expectation of some remarkable event, which should fol-
low his resolution of self-denial. On the sixty-first day of
his fast, Dr Willan was summoned to his aid j but the

FAvSTlNG.

miserable object was then vcduccj to the lowest slnte of
existence ; and although iiis eyes were not deficient in
lustre, and his voice entire, he exhibited the appearance
of a skeleton, on which the flesh hud been dried ; and his
personal decay was attended with manifest mental imbe-
cility. Nevertheless with proper regimen, he so far re-
covered, as in a few days to be enabled to walk across his
room ; and a clergyman, who had previously been admit-
ted to visit him, had successfully dispelled his religious
aberrations : but on the seventh day from the commence-
ment of this system his recollection failed, and he expired
on the seventy-eighth from the date of his abstinence. An
analogous case has been quoted by the same physican, of
an hisane person, who survived 47 days on a pint and a
half of water daily, during which time he obstinately stood
38 days in the same position. From extreme weakness
he lay down during the remainder, still refusing any thing
but water ; nor did this extraordinary abstinence prove
fatal,

Perhaps we should find many examples of fasting for a
much longer period, on recurring to morbid conditions of
the body ; such as that of Janet M'Leod, a young Scotish
female, who, after epilepsy and fever, remained five years
in bed, seldom speaking, and receiving food only by con-
straint. At length she obstinately refused all sustenance,
her jaws became locked, and in attempting to force them
open two of her teeth were broken. A small quantity of
liquid was introduced by the aperture, none of which was
swallowed, and dough made of oatmeal was likewise re-
jected : she slept much, and her head was bent down to
her breast. In this deplorable state, the relatives of the
patient declared she continued to subsist four years with-
out their being sensible of her receiving any aliment, ex-
cept a little water ; but, after a longer interval, she began
to revive, and subsisted on crumbs of bread with milk, or
water sucked from the palm of her hand. It is not evi-
dent that her convalescence ever was complete, and it
rather is to be inferred that she always remained in a de-
bilitated condition.

After these extraordinary instances, chiefly belonging to
our own aera, to which many more might be added, we
shall probably be less incredulous in listening to the ac-
counts of the older authors; and although we may refuse
to go to the same extent that they have done, we cannot
reject those examples which do not exceed the terms of
duration here specified. Yet it is impossible to be too
careful of imposture, of which the most decisive illustra-
tion is given in the case of Anne Moore, just at the mo-
ment of making these observations ; and in the earlier
remarks transmitted to us, we should be equally slow in
receiving what is offered as miraculous interposition of
supernatural powers. Mankind, always anxious for dis-
tinction, falsely conceive that it is to be gained by delud-
ing the credulous with fi,ctitious narratives. Fortunius
Licetus published a copious and curious work on this sub-
ject, which has now become exceedingly rare. It lia^ cost
the author much labour and research, and for the most
part it is written in a style more philosophical than com-
mon to that age in such subjects. Licetus inclines to make
a systematic division of the duration of fasting into different
periods, which he designs short, intermediate, and long.
The first, he says, is of constant occurrence, is unattended
with personal danger, and is limited to three days ; the
second happens fr( quently, but life is in hazard, and it
embraces an interval within the sixth day. All fasting
beyond that time, belongs to the third division, which he
also partitiotis into three classes, each with four subdivi-
sions. The first commences on the seventh, ninth, twelfth,
and fifteenth days of abstinence ; the second is limited by

the twcnlieth, thirtieth, fortieth, and sixtieth day; the third
commences with the third month, includes the sixth,
twelfth, and all periods exceeding a year. These rather
seem aibitrary divisions it is true, but the author supports
them by numerous illustrations, to which we must refer in
general, instead of citing them in detail.

In regard to the sensations excited by protracted fast-
ing, and its effects on the person of the sufferer, there is
a difference resulting from the vigour both of body and
mind, to which the influence of climate may be joined,
but the most direful and lasting consequences frequently
ensue. At first every substance is ravenously devoured,
to appease the cravings of hunger ; every animal, the most
loathsome reptiles, are welcome sustenance ; and a paste
is baked by the New Hollanders, composed of ants and
worms, intermixed with the bark of trees. John Lcry,
who endured the extremity of famine in a voyage to Brazil,
emphatically declarisd, that a mouse was more prized in
the ship than an ox had been ashore; and he also informs
us, that three or four crowns were paid for each. The
natives of New Caledonia swallow lumps of earth to satis-
fy their hunger, and tie ligatures, continually increasing
in tightness, around the abdomen. They seem to do so
with impunity, although the custom of eating earth in Ja-
va, which is done to reduce personal corpulence, is slowly
but invariably destructive. Last of all, recourse is had to
human flesh, instances of which have occurred in all coun-
tries of the habitable world, on occasion of famine from
sieges, shipwreck, or tlie failure of expected crops of
grain.

Diminution of size and the rapid prostration of strength,
are almost immediately consequent to protracted absti-
nence. The extremities of the natives of New Holland
and the Andaman islands, are of dimensions greatly infe-
rior to those of people accustomed to ample supplies of
food. The persons of the Arabs of the desert want that
rotundity and developemcnt which characterizes mankind
accustomed to abundance of food. Uncommon emaciation
ensues; the inhabitants of the former country, "in times
of famine, resemble so many walking skeletons, ready to
drop down with weakness ;" individuals v/ho have suffer-
ed want during long voyages, require to be carried on
shore; they faint on the slightest unusual odour, and are
ijicapable of swallowing food, except in the smallest quan-
tity, and that with inconceivable pain. There is a class of
religious penitents on the confines of Persia, who gain
sanctity by the practice of austerities. One who devotes
himself to stand for a series of years, with his arms ex-
tended, is sparingly supplied with aliment; he is support-
ed with posts when overcome by feebleness, or the an-
guish of an unchanged posture ; his arms gradually
waste, and he grows insensible of the change that has
been going on. Should he survive the term of probation,
which rarely happens, " his body, which is become ema-
ciated, as light as a feather, and as dry as wood, is unloos-
ed, bathed, and anointed with costly ointments, and the
best white naphtha ; more nourishing food is brought, and
he is carefully attended to until re-established ; his arms
alone remain withered, stiff, and motionless, and as hard
as timber." Extenuation and weakness follow sudden
changes from sustenance on animal to vegetable substan-
ces, and, as is well known, those who subsist solely on the
latter ai-e not capable of the same personal exertions as
those copiously supplied with the former. Along with
emaciation, there ensues the suppression of the alvine ex-
cretions, though secretions by the kidneys continue ; and it
is remarkable, that drenching the body frequently Avith
water produces an augmentation of the latter.
During this period a material alteration is taking place
C 2

FAT

FAV

311 the miml ; men become wild, and ferocious, tlicy view
each other with malevolence, they arc quarrelsome, tur-
bulent, and equally regardless of their own faic as of the
safely of their ncif^libours ; they actually resemble so many
beasts of jirey. The sensations of hunger from protract-
ed fasting are not alike in all, or it may be, that immedi-
ate languor operates strongly on those by whom it is not
so severely felt. But it is certain that, after a particular
lime, little inclination for food is experienced, thouL;h
great desire remains of quenching thirst. The Genevese
physician describes his hunger as having been keen, but
never painful. During the first and second days of absti-
nence, he became faint on attempting any mental or per-
sonal excrtioi); and a sensation of cold was diffused over
liis whole frame, more especially afl'ccting the extremities.
Captain Inglefield, of the Centaur, expresses his conso-
lotary feelings on seeing one of his companions perish,
"that dying of hunger was not so dreadful as imagination
had pictured." A survivor of that miserable shipwreck,
where so many people hung twenty-three days in tiie
shrouds, observes, that he did not suffer mucli during the
first three from want of fond ; that after more had elapsed,
lie was surprised to have existed so long, and concluded,
that each succeeding day would be his last. To these ex-
amples may be added that of Captain Keinicdy, who con-
sidered it singular, that although he tasted neither meat
Jior drink during eight entire days, he did not feci the sen-
sations of hunger and thirst.

Unless for timely succour, the human frame yields
imder such privations, idiotcy succeeds ferocity, or the
sufferer dies raving mad. Sliould the consequences not
Le fatal, lasting diseases are frequently occasioned, by the
tone of the different organs being injured, sometimes incu-
rable, and sometimes adniiiting palliation.

It is evident, however, from the preceding observations,
that protracted fasting is not so destructive as is commonly
credited, and that mankind may, without danger, remain
entire days destitute of food. Liquids are an effectual
substitute for solids in preserving life, and drenching the
■body with salt or fresh water, or laving it copiously on the
head, materially contribute in averting death by fam.ine.
See Phitosojihical Transactions, 1783. Alemoirs of the
Manchester Society for 1785, vol. iii. ViQi\u% J\i''avigationes
in Brasiliam. Asiatic Researches, yol. iv. p. 386. Syme's
£mbassy to jlva, p. 130. Mackay's Narrative oj" the Shi/i-
ivreck of the Juno. Annual Register for 1768, and 17S3.
Gentleman's Magazine, 1789. Licetus, De his qui cliuvi-
vunt sine alimento, (c)

FATA Morgana, is the name given to an optical
phenomenon, sometimes seen in the straits of Messina,
between the Island of Sicily and the Italian coast. This
remarkable phenomenon, vvliich has not hitherto received
any explanation, has been described by Kircher, Angeluc-
ci, Scotus, Giardina, Gallo, Lcanti, Brydone, Swinburne,
and F. Antonio Minasi, the last of whom published a dis-
sertation on the subject at Rome, in 179 3.

After having observed the Fata Morgana three times,
Minasi has given us the following descripiion of it, which
we believe to be the most correct that had hitherto been
published.

" When the rising sun," says Minasi, " shines from that
pioint whence its incident ray forms an angle of about 45
degrees on the sea of Reggio, and the bright surface of
the water in the bay is not disturbed either by the wind or
the current, the spectator being placed on an eminence of
the city, with his back to the sun, and his face to the sea;
on a sudden there appears in the water, as in a catoptric
theatre, various multiplied objects ; viz. numberless series
of pilasters, arches, castles well delineated, regular co-

hmms, lofty lowers, superb palaces with balconies and
windows, extended valleys of trees, delightful plains, with
herds and flocks, armies of men on foot and horseback, and
many other strange figures, in their natural colours, and
proper actions, passing rapidly in succession along the sur-
face of the sea, during the "whole of the short period of
time while the above mentioned causes remain.

But if, in addition to the ciixumstances before described,
the atmosphere be highly impregnated with vapour ond
dense exhalations, not previously dispersed by the action
of the wind and waves, or rarefied by the sun, it then hap-
pens, that in this vapour, as in a curtain, extended along
the channel to the height of about four or five-and-twenty
feet, and nearly down to tlie sea, the observer will behold
the scene of the same objects not only reflected from the
surface of the sea, but likewise in the air, thougli not so
distinct or well defined as the former objects from the sea.

Lastly, if the air be slightly hazy and opaque, and at
the same time dewy, and adapted to form the iris, then
the above mentioned objects will appear only at the surfaco
of the sea, as in the first case, but all vividly coloured or
fringed with red, green, blue, and other prismatic colours."

Minasi divides these phenomena into three classes;
the marine morgana, the aerial morgana, and the firis-
viatic morgana ; and he endeavours to prove, that all the
appearances are representations of the objects upon the
two coasts. He considers the sea as an inclined speculum,
on account of the lapid current which runs through the
straits; and he supposes it to be ilivided into different
planes, by the contrary eddies which lake place when the
current changes its direction. He ascribes the aerial mor-
gana, to the refractive and reflective power of efiiuviae
suspended in the air.

Many oilier phenomena of a similar kind, have been
long observed under the names of Looming and Mirage.
In our article atmosphere, we have mentioned a very sin-
gular phenomenon observed by Ur Vince of Cambridge;
and Dr Buchan has described another in Nicholson's Jour-
wa/, vol. xiv. All these piienomena obviously arise from
the rarefaction of the air in the neighbourhood of the sur-
face of the sea, in consequence of which, a distant object
appears to be depressed instead of elevated by the refrac-
tion; and it is sometimes seen both depressed and eleva-
ted, one of the images having in general an inverted po-
sition. Dr VVollaston has investigated this subject with
much ingenuity, and has shewn, that this class of pheno-
mena may be imitated, either by viewing a distant object
along a red hot poker, or through a saline or saccharine
solution, with water and spirit of wine floating upon it. See
Nicholson's Journal, vol. i. 4to, and vol. xiv. page 340, 8vo.
Wollaston, Phil. Trans. 1798. Gilb'^rt's Journal, vol. xvii.
p. 183. Dr Thomas Young's Statural Philoso/i/iy, vol. i. p.
441, 442. Vince, Edinburgh Transactions, vol. vi. p. 245.
-Biot, Mem. de I'lnsticut.; and our articles Atmosphere
and Refraction, (a-)

F.WERSHAM, is a market-town of England, in the
coimty of Kent, situated on a navigable river, which com-
municates with the river Swale. Tlie four streets of which
ii is composed form an irregular cross, having the guild-
hall and market place at the centre. Many of the houses
are large and handsome, and the streets are well lighted
and paved. ^

The church, dedicated to St Mary of Charily, is sup-
posed to have been built about the lime of Edward I. It
is spacious and handsome, and is built of flint in the form
of a cross, the angles being formed of stone. It consists
principally of a nave with aisles, transept and chancel, and
there is at the west end a light tower with pinnacles, and
terminated by an octagonal spire 73 feet high. The inte-

FAY

FEL

rior of the church underwent a thorough repair in the year
1755, from tiie designs of Dance. Tlie tower and spire
were erected since that time. The church is 160 feet long
and 65 broad, the length of the transept 124 feet, and its
Avidth 46. There are no galleries in the church ; and the
organ, which cost above 400/., is placed in a niche formed
by the walls of the belfry.

The guildhall, or market-house, was built of timber in
1594, and has an open space between tlie pillars beneath.
There is here a free grammar scliool, founded by Queen
Elizabeth, und endowed to the annual amount of 90/. There
are also two small charily scliools, established in 1716, and
supported chiefly by voluntary subscriptions, for instruct-
ing and clothing 12 poor boys, and 12 girls. There are
also almshouses, and other good benefactions, for the poor
The buildings of the celebrated abbey of Faversham, were
once extensive and numerous. The two entrance gates
lemained till about 47 years ago, when they were taken
clown. Notliing now remains l3Ut the outer walls of the
precincts, to point out tlie site of the abbey.

The manufacture of gunpowder is carried on to a
great extent in the vicinity of Faversham, under the su-
perintendance of a branch of tlie ordnance. This manu-
facture is supposed to have been established before the
time of Elizabeth. The works were purchased from in-
dividuals by government in 1760, and were soon after re-
built in a safe and substantial manner. The diflerent mills
and storehouses are principally situated on the stream that
flows from Ospringe. They are constantly at work night
and day, the men relieving each oilier in parties. The
quantity of powder manufactured annually, amounts to be-
tween 12,000 and 13,000 barrels, wiiich gives employment
to about 400 individuals. The mills were blown up in
1781, by the explosion of about 7000 lbs. of powder. The
noise was heard at 30 miles distance.

The oyster fishery is the principal source of the trade
of Faversham, more than 2u0 famiiies being supported
by it. Before tlie last war Faversham oysters were aiiini-
ally exported to Holland to the amount of 3000/. or 4000/.
annually. Besides the coasting trade, Faversiiam »upj)lics
London with great quantities of coin, hops, cherries, apples,
and oysters.

The following is the statistical abstract for the parish
5n 1811, including the out-liberty.

Number of houses 672

Number of families 846

Families employed in agriculture ... 93
Ditto in trade and manufactures .... 268

Males 1878

Females 1994

Total population in 1811 3872

See Hasted's History of Kent ; and the Beauties of
England and Wales, vol. viii. p. 723. (^y)

FAYAL, the name of the most western of the Azores
Isles, derived from the Portuguese term Faya, on account
of the great number of birch trees which L;row here. It
is about 27 miles long and 9 wide. The principal town is
called Villa de Hona, before which is the semicircular bay
or road of Fayal, about two miles broad, and three-fourths
of a mile deep. The depth of water is from 20 to 10 and
sometimes 6 fathoms. Round the south-west point of the
bay is a cave named Porto Piere, where a ship may lie
pretty safely. The position of the town, according to tri-
gonoineirical observations, is West Long. 28° 41' 48", and
North Lat. 38° 3o' 55". See Azores, for a general ac-
count of the Islands.
' FE DE Bogota Santa. See Santa fe de Bogota.

FEATHERS. See Anatomy Comparative, and Or-
nithology.

FEE J HE, the name of a group of islands in the South
Pacific Ocean, the most northerly of Which were discover-
ed, in 1643, by 'Fasman, who gave them the name of Prince
VVilliam's Island. In 1789, Captain Bligh, the third day
after his eacape from Toofoa, fell in with the easternmost of
them in Long. 178° West, and he found that the group ex-
tended 4° to the west of the first island. Several of them,
which he saw, had 30 or 40 leagues of coast, and were va-
riegated with hills and vallies ; but his defenceless situa-
tion prevented him from having any intercourse with the
inhabitants. When he returned from Otaheite in August
1792, he passed to the r.orth of those which he had for-
merly visited, and having crossed his former track, he
doubled the most southern of the group, in East Long. 1 78'',
and South Lat. 19° or 15°. The islanders, apparently
with hostile intentions, attempted in vain to overtake his
ship.

In the year 1794, Captain Barber saw six islands in the
western part of the group; and having anchored in a bay
on the wesiern side of the largest one, his ship was attack-
ed by the natives in a number of canoes, which were soon
repulsed. He found the navigation very difficult and dan-
gerous. Captain Cook was informed that Feejee was a
high hut fertile island, abounding in hogs, dogs, fowls, and
all kinds of fruits.

The Fecjeans are a distinct race from the inhabitants of
Tongataboo, speaking a different language, and making
use of bows and arrows in battle, besides clubs and spears.
The inliabitants had a high reputation both for mechanical
skill and military prowess. Their clothing and their earth-
en vessels were made with great ingenuity. They are
said to eat the bodii-s of those whom they slay in battle, (jt)

FELICUDA, (anciently calieri P/nr>iicusa), is an island
on the north coast of Sicily, in the Mediterranean, and one
of the most western of the Lipari, or .^lolian isles. It lies
23 miles west of Lipari, in East long. 14° 21', and North
Lat. 38° 3i', and is about nine miles in circumference.
The lava which forms the shore, and the pumices, glasses,
and enamels found every where in the fields, are proofs of
tlie operation of fire in the formation of Felicuda. At a
distance the island presents the appearance of a number of
eminences heaped around the sides of one central mountain,
which rises half a mile above the level of the sea. The
summit ol this mountain resembles a truncated cone, and
incloses a hollow 40 feet deep, and about 2640 in circum-
ference, called the Diic/i of Fern, w hich is now in cultiva-
tion. It is supposed by Spallanzani to have been ancient-
ly the crater from whose lava the island was formed. The
soil is composed of half pulverulent tufa, resting on lava.
There is also a small isolated hill, to the south-east of the
principal mountain, and about half its height. It has the
appearance of a broken cone, truncated at the top, where
it lorms a hollow narrowing towards the bottom, and con-
taining pieces of l.iva imbedded in earthy tufa: the exte-
rior of the hill is lava.

Though yet unprovided with a regular harbour, Felicu-
da has two bays, the one on Ihe south, the other on the
north-east side of the island, by one or other of which a
landing may easily be effected, in any direction of the wind.

The shore is almost -Avholly composed of various lavas:
those in the north-east bay have for their base a light grey
felspar; they include needles of black and fibrous sclior),
wilh small portions of wiiite semitransparent felspar. In
many parts they lesemble honeycomb, from the depth and
regulariliy of their vacuities, the production of which has
been ascribed to the action of gas, when the lava was in
a state of fusion. About a hundred and fifty paces to the

FEL

left of tlie bay stands a Tmic rock of piisuiulic lava, 30 tltn
high. From the top downwards it is perfectly smooth, to
about 12 feet above the surface of the sea, where it begins
to assume tlie prismatic form, dividing into a number of
three-sided prisms, and continuing this form under water.
The base of tliis lava is an extremely compact iron-coloui-
ed hornstone. It contains a great number of small rhom-
boidal schorls, with some grains of amorphous felspar. A
little farther to the left, is the Grotta del Bove Marino ;
the entrance is 60 feet in breadth, and above 40 in height :
it forms a kind of porch, which conducts to a hall 200 feet
long, 120 broad, and 63 in height. It is formed in the la-
va of the shore, whose base is a light porous schorl ; it is
of a grey colour, interspersed with white shining rhomboi-
dal felspars, and is magnetic at the distance of half a line,
but its power is increased by fusion: like the rock al-
ready mentioned, it separates into prisms before reaching
the water. Beyond this cavern is a high precipice, which
descends into the sea, and is composed of many alternate
beds of lava and tufa. Spallanzani counted eleven of each.
The remaining part of the shore consists chiefly of prisma-
tic lavas, having for their base the hornstone and schorl in
the mass.

The lavas of the interior are of three different kinds, of
two of which tlie base is hornstone, and of the third scliorl.
They are all very compact, and do not present any of those
tumours and inequalities which occur in lavas of more re-
cent formation. The tufas are in general of a light spon-
gy nature, pulverulent and argillaceous, and readily absorb
water. In them are found the glasses and pumices before
alluded to. The glasses occur in small pieces, enveloped
in the tufa. Some of them are beautifully transparent,
others are of a grey colour, and some are almost quite
opaque : the furnace converts them into a vitreous froth.
The pumices are in great quantity, and always in very
small detached pieces. They are of two kinds ; the one
light and porous, the other entirely without pores, of a
smooth fracture, and of considerable weight and compact-
ness. The prevailing colours are red, yellow, and ash-
grey. All of them abound with very brilliant scales of vitre-
ous felspar, and in the furnace contract into a shining black
enamel, interspersed with the whitish scales of the felspar.

The climate of Fclicuda is bracing and healthy; the air
is remarkably pure, and seldom contaminated with fogs or
vapours ; the soil is scanty, and consists entirely of pulve-
rised tufa. The island, however, abounds in vines, which
afford an excellent wine. It has also Indian figs, and some
olive trees, and gives a tolerable crop of wheat and barley.
The value of the total produce, including that of the vin-
tage, was estimated by Sp'Uanzani at 4000 Neapolitan
crowns. Its animal productions are not more numerous
than those of the vegetable kingdom. Of amphibious ani-
mals, Spallanzani only met with the grey and green lizards,
(the Laceria agilis of Lin.) There is not a serpent on the
island, nor indeed on any of the group, owing, it is thought,
to the paucity of those insects, and other small animals on
which they feed.

Feiicuda contains 630 inhabitants. They are poor, labo-
rious, and happy. Their poverty, indeed, which exempts
them even from taxation, gives them at first sight the ap-
pearance of extreme wretchedness; but a nearer view
opens a scene of unambitious and cheerful tranquillity,
■which even in its highest anticipations scarcely looks be-
yond the wants of nature. Their houses are mere hovels,
rudely constructed of blocks of lava, and seem hung like the
nests of birds to the precipitous cliffs of their mountains.
This singular custom was first occasioned by the frequent
predatory attacks of the Tunisian corsairs, Avith which the
island was formerly much harassed, and which at length

eompcllcd the inhabitants to transfer their residence fiom
the lower parts of the island to those declivities of the
mountains, which are less accessible to piratical siuprise.
Their food, in general, consists of wild fruits, and a sort of
black barley bread, placed before thern in the coarsest dish-
es, or on the bare ground, on which they are seated to re-
ceive it. They sometimes indulge tiiemselves with the
luxury of salt fish and piue water. Tiiis last article is
exircn)ely scarce, there not being a single spring on the
island, which makes it necessary to preserve tne rain water
in cisterns. Few of these people employ themselves in
fishing, in which ihey use the hook and line. Tneir prin-
cipal occupation is agriculture ; and it is wonderful with
what industry they cultivate, and with what attachment
they cling to the wretched soil, which thus scantily repays
their ever patient exertions. " They would not exchange
it," says Spallanzani, "for the Fortunate Isles." (u)

FELIS. See Mammalia.

FELOOPS, or Felupps, a tribe of negroes inhabiting
the western coast of Africa, between the Gambia and the
banks of the river Casamanza. The whole extent of the
territory occupied by them, is about seventy-five miles in
length by forty-five in breadth, terminating to the east near
the sources of the latter river. It is of great fertility, well
wooded, and abounding in rice, cattle, goats, and poultry,
with which the traders on the Gambia are copiously sup-
plied. Numbers of tigers, bears, and leopards, inhabit
the forests, against which the natives carry on a bold and
successful warfare, for the protection of their herds, and
sell the skins to negroes of adjoining districts, by whom
they are brought to the European settlers.

The Feloops exhibit certain peculiarities in person, man-
ners, and customs, apparently separating them from the
rest of the negro tribes by which they are environed.

In stature they are short and stout, but very strong and
swift; their skin is coarse, of a deep black colour; and
their hair, which they collect on the crown in an erect queue,
several inches long, is woolly, and of greater length than
that of negroes in general. The beard is allowed to grow,
and is collected in like manner, so as to advance in a point
projecting some inches from the chin. Their features are
fine, bearing greater resemblance to those ot the blacks of
India than of negroes, but they have a wild and melancho-
ly cast; and the Feloops are said to be of a gloomy, taci-
turn, revengeful disposition. They hold very little inter-
course with their neighbours, and are exceedingly jealous
of their own women, who are reputed to possess very few
attractions.

These people, in common with other tribes in different
parts of the world, cover their face and skin by a kind of
of tattooing or scarification, with strange and irregular
figures. They go almost naked, except for a scanty gir-
dle ; and on the wrists, arms, ancles, and thighs, wear tight
leather rings or bracelets, so firmly encircling them, that
the intermediate flesh rises high above the natural size.

Nothing whatever is known of the religion of the Fe-
loops; but to judge by the number of charms borne about
their persons, they are deeply tinctured with the supersti-
tions of the African continent. Their language is peculiar,
and uttered with great rapidity, in a low guttural accent.

In speaking of the manners of these people, it cannot
be denied that they are very imperfectly known to Euro-
peans, because they are shy and reserved, and avoid inter-
course with strangers. Their language, too, is reputed
difficult, and their traffic being cairied on by means of a
factor or third person, commonly of the Mandingo nation,
offers few inducements to acquire it. Besides the articles
already mentioned, grain, and live-stock, the Feloops
bring great quantities of bees wax to the town of VintaiiH

FEL

FEN

■which stands by a creek, on the south side ol' the river
Gambia, and sell it to Europeans. But the simple savage
is always deeply imposed on; for after having departed
with part of the covenanted price received from his factor,
the latter himself obtains a considerable balance, emphati-
cally designed " cheating money," as the reward of his
trouble. The honey collected in the woods is made into
an intoxicating liquor resembling mead. This is one prin-
cipal ingredient at their feasts, where quarrels, terminating
fatally, often ensue when the whole party is in a slate of
intoxication. One singular feature in their manners is now
disclosed, intimately resembling what is denominated the
price of blood among other nations. Siiould a man be kill-
ed on such an occasion, a deadly feud is created between
his relatives and the murderer, which is transmitted even
to posterity. The eldest son of tlie deceased endeavours
to piocure his father's sandals, which he wears once a
year, on the anniversary of his death, until he finds an op-
portunity of avenging it. The devoted object seldom
escapes; and although we are not sufficiently acquainted
with the history of the Feloops to define the interval that
may elapse, examples are not wanting among tribes prac-
tising similar customs, where it is sometimes not less than
twenty years. Nay, the two persons at enmity may often
be seen almost in contact, while the one knows he is the
object of resentment, and the other only awaits the fit mo-
ment of exercising his vengeance.

The Feloops, nevertheless, possess many good qualities;
they testify the utmost gratitude and affection towards their
benefactors; and whatever is entrusted to their charge is
preserved with the most scrupulous fidelity. English pro-
perty of considerable value has been committed to them
at Vintain, and thay have invariably manifested the strict-
est honesty regarding it.

The Feloops are, on the whole, a warlike people, and
ferocious in hostility, but they do not seek quarrels, and
they enjoy good reputation among the neighbouring tribes.
Their arms do not differ materially from those of other
Africans on the western coast, and are adapted to the war-
fare to which they are exposed. They are skilful archers,
using bows six feet long, and quivers full of poisoned ar-
rows. One quiver is hung on the right slioulder, and ano-
ther on the haunch. Besides these, five or six lances or
assagays are carried in the hand, which they dart with sur-
prising force and precision.

The numbers of this people are uncertain. They have
been calculated at fifty thousand, which probably exceeds
the truth, and they occupy sixty or seventy villages, the
most remote standing in woods near the rise of the river
Casamanza. But it is difficult to ascertain the numbers of
savage tribes, or the extent of their dwellings ; and parti-
cularly so here, where intelligent Europeans have not had
immediate access to them. Though the Feloops shun com-
munication with establishments on the river Gambia, it is
said to be otherwise with the Portuguese settlements on
the Casamanza, for there they are common and familiar
with the settlers. It has thence been concluded, with some
probability, that their reserve towards other Europeans,
originates from the policy of the Portuguese inspiring them
with distrust. By thus estranging them, all the advantages
of traffic are exclusively preserved. Golberry Voyage en
jl/rique, torn. ii. Park's TVaxif/s, p. 12 — 18. (c)

FELSPAR. See Mineralogy.

FENCE. See Agriculture.

FENS. See Draining.

FENELON, Francis de Salignac De la Motte,
Archbishop of Cambrai, was descended from a very an-
cient and illustrious family, and was born in the castle of
Fenelon, in Perigord, August 6, 1651. He was of a weak

and delicate constitution ; and, until the twelftli year of his
age, was brought up under his paternal roof, lie was the
child of his father's old age, and his early amiable disposi-
tions rendered him the object of his utmost affection and
anxiety. There was nothing remarkable in the mode of
his education, which was entrusted to the care of a private
preceptor; but, in a few years, he acquired under this in-
structor a more extensive knowledge of the Greek and La-
tin languages, than is usually found at so lender an age ;
and to this circumstance has been chiefly ascribed the per-
fection of style, which was discernible in his earliest pro-
ductions. When he was twelve years old, he was sent to
the University of Cahors, which was not very distant from
the residence of his family, and where he completed his
studies in languages and philosophy. His uncle, the Mar-
quis Antoine de Fenelon, a lieutenant-general in the army,
and a nobleman of superior understanding and of sound reli-
gious principles, having taken a warm interest in his ne-
phew's progress, sent for him to Paris, and placed him at
the college of Plessis, where he commenced his studies in
theology, and where he soon distinguished himself so much
by his attainments, that he was permitted to preach in pub-
lic at the age of fifteen. But his wise and discerning rela-
tive, rather alarmed than gratified by the encomiums which
this premature appearance had excited, and anxious to se-
cure his nephew's inexperience from the snares of youth*
ful vanity, placed him at the seminary of St Sulpice, under
the care of its learned and pious superior M. Tronson.
From the example and instructions of this excellent per-
son, the youthful Fenelon derived his relish for those clerical
virtues, of which he afterwards exhibited so perfected a
pattern ; and received those impressions of elevated piety,
by which he was so eminently distinguished during the
whole course of his life. When he was scarcely sixteen
years of age, he formed the determination of devoting him-
self to the missions in Canada, where the seminary of St
Sulpice had a considerable establishment ; and neither the
influence of his tutor, nor the remonstrances of his friends,
were able to shake his purpose. But at length his uncle,
the bishop of Sarlat, on the ground of his nephew's ex-
treme youth and infirm slate of health, explicitly refused to
grant permission for his departure, and ordered him to re-
main at St Sulpice, that, by longer study and retirement,
he might qualify himself for the exercise of the ministry.
Having been ordained at St Sulpice, he devoted himself for
the space of three years to the diligent discharge of his
functions in that parish ; and, after that period, was appoin-
ted to explain the scriptures to the people on Sundays and
festival days. About the year 1 674, he was invited by
his uncle to Sarlat, and resumed with additional zeal his
missionary views, choosing the Levant as tiie scene of his
labours ; but his friends succeeded in finding for him a
more suitable, yet very similar course of ministration ; and,
at 2r years of age, he was nominated the superior of an in-
stitution for preserving in the faitli the newly-converted fe-
male Catholics. In this humble employment, which re-
quired only the simpler forms of instruction, the more
minute details of knowledge, and the milder topics of per-
suasion, he passed ten whole years in the prime of life;
but, while faithfully engaged in these obscure and unho-
noured duties, he was acquiring by study and meditation
those higher talents which cojitributed to render him so
bright an ornament of the Christian church. Though the
.Marquis his uncle, with whom he resided, passed his life
in religious retirement, yet he retained the acquaintance of
a few select friends, to whose notice he introduced his ne-
phew, and in whose society he enjoyed many opportunities
of improvement. Among these were the Duke de Beau-
villiers, who was afterwards governor to the Duke of Bur-

FENELOIS^.

giindy, and tlic celebrated Rossuet, who licld the situalion
of preccploi- lo the Dauphhi. lie jpcedily rccoinineiided
himself to the esteem and coiifidcnce of that distinguished
prelate ; and profited by his uistructions, while he shared
his intimacy. During this period he produced his first
■work, a treatise on " the Education of a Daughter." which
he wrote at the request of the Duchess de BeauvillLers,
and which has been rather imitated than surpassed by fu-
ture writers on the subject. In 1686, he was placed by
Louis XIV. at the head of the missionaries, who were sent
to Poitou and Saintonge, to convert to the Catholic faith
the Protestants in these provinces, whose pastors had been
driven into e.sile ; and having been allowed to choose his
colleagues, and authorized to dismiss the military who had
hitherto acted as the apostles of the church, he repaired to
tlie scene of his duties with all the zeal of a Romish mis-
sionary, tempered with the spirit of Christian conciliation.
But though he was received by the people as a minister of
peace, and sedulously removed every instrument of coer-
cion, he perceived that his converts were chiefly infiuen-
ced by fear, in consequence of the violent measures which
V ere pursued in other provinces ; and it would seem, that
his proceedings and progress did not keep pace with the
impatience of his employers. In consequence of his own
request, he received permission to return to Paris, where
he gave an account of his mission to the king in person ;
and contentedly resuining his humble functions among the
" Nouvelles Catholiques," he was more than two years
without once appearing at court. He was too indifterent
rdjout his personal interests to employ the ordinary means
of promotion ; and even his unoffending character did not
preserve him from the machinations of envy and malevo-
lence. He had been selected for the Bishopric of Poictiers,
and his nomination even sanctioned by the king, but it was
revoked before being inade public; and at the earnest ap-
plication of the Bishop of Rochelle, who had witnessed his
fidelity in the Protestant provinces, he was on the eve of
being nominated to assist and succeed that aged prelate ;
but means were found to prevent also the accomplishment
of this plan. In both these cases, his success was obstruct-
ed by the secr-et influence of Harlai, archbishop of Paris,
who never forgave Fenelon the decided preference which
he had shewn for his rival Bossuet's friendship, and who is
said to have gained his ends by rendering him suspected
of a tendency to Jansenism. Having published, however,
in 1688, his treatise on " the Education of a Daughter,"
and another on " the Ministry of Pastors," which had both
been long approved by his friends in iManuscript, his me-
rits became more generally known; and an unforeseen
event suddenly placed him in a situation, which fully dis-
played the superior lustre of his character. His friend,
the Duke de Beauvilliers, having been appointed by Louis
XIV. governor to his grandson the Duke of Burgundy, and
having been allowed to select his own coadjutors in this
important trust, witliout a moment's delay, nominated the
Abbe de Fenelon preceptor to the young prince. Fenelon,
equally free in the choice of those who were to act under
his direction, selected as sub-preceptors the Abbe de Lan-
geron, Abbe Fleury, and his own nephew Abbe de Beau-
mont; and with these valualjle friends, all men of talents
and piety, he entered on his arduous oflice in September
1689. He had, indeed, no ordinary task to fulfil, the for-
mation of a good king to twenty millions of people, and the
jTiost unpromising materials in the character of his pupil.
The young Duke of Burgundy was naturally irritable, un-
feeling, obstinate, proud, impatient of controul, the slave
of sensual pleasure, and so furious in his rage, that "it was
sometimes feared," says St Simon, " the very veins of his
body would burst;" yet the powers his mind were of the

highest order, acute, brilliant, profound. All who were
entrusted with the charge of this extraordinary youth, acted
as with one mind, and upon the same plan ; but Fenelon
was the soul, which animated and directed their joint ope-
rations. A detail of their proceedings would furnish at
once an interesting and instructive work ; and some idea of
the method pursued may be formed from the Fables and
Dialogues which Fenelon wrote for his pupil, and which
were severally composed at the moment when the young
prince required some fault to be corrected, or some useful
maxim to be impiessed upon his mind. Several curious
particulars have been recorded by Baussetj but wc have
room only to state the result. So great was the Duke's
proficiency in classical attainments, that in his tenth year
he wrote Latin with elegance, and was able to translate the
most diflicult authors with precision; and what was more
important, his character was so radically changed by the
instrumentality of his preceptor, that his most fearful vices
were succeeded by the opposite virtues, and he was ren-
dered mild, affable, humane, patient, humble, and austere
towards himself. It was by religious principle, that the
sagacious preceptor effected so remarkable a transforma-
tion ; and so powerful was its influence over the mind of
the young prince, that his most imperious caprices we e
often subdued in an instant by merely pronouncing to him
the name of God.

Fenelon conducted, at the same time, and with equal at-
tention, the education of the brothers of the Duke of Bur-
gundy, the Duke de Berry, and the Duke D'Anjou, after-
wards Philip V. of Spain ; and it may naturally be expect-
ed, that the most munificent rewards v/ere conferred upon
his services. But nothing could equal the disinterestedness
of his conduct, except perhaps the want of generosity in
his employers. When he entered upon his office, he im-
posed upon himself two resolutions, from the observance
of which he never deviated. The one was, to ask no fa-
vour for himself; and the other, to ask none for his rela-
tives and friends. It appears from his letters to his consin,
Madame de Saval, that, after he had been four years at
court, he possessed no other ecclesiastical revenue than the
small priory of Carenac, which the bishop of Sarlat had re-
signed to him ; and that, by the irregularity with which his
stipend as preceptor was paid, he was often reduced to the
greatest embarrassments. " I am on the point," he writes
to the lady above-mentioned, " of dismissing all my ser-
vants, unless I soon receive some help. I will not suffer
you to make any efforts for me of your own accord. I shall
send back what you would lend me. I prefer to suffer.
Let them forward to me from Carenac as much money as
they can, after having, however, distributed the most ur-
gent alms ; for I would rather live upon dry bread, in the
strictest sense of the word, than suffer the poor of my be-
nefice to be reduced to the extremity of want." Fenelon,
at this very period, enjoyed the highest esteem and confi-
dence of Madame de Maintenon, by whose influence he
might easily have supplied his wants, and secured his pro-
motion. In the year 1694, however, the king himself at-
tended to the just claims of a servant, in whose behalf he
received no solicitations ; and, with apologies for the de-
lay, communicated to him in person his nomination to the
Abbe of St Valery. In 1693, he had been admitted a me.m-
ber of the French Academy, and was daily rising in repu-
tation as a writer of eminence. But, while emoluments
and-honours were at length rewarding his merit, a storm
*was beginning to gather, which clouded his future days.
The celebrated Madame Guyon, who in 1688 had been
imprisoned, on account of her heritical notions, in a con-
vent near Paris, had been released by the interposition of
Madame de Maintenon, and by her introduced to Fenelon,

FENELON.

who had expressed a correspondence of Reiilimcnts wiih
her general doctrines of divine love. Several ecclesias-
tics, alarmed by the increasing influence of her tenets,
united, and were partly commissioned, to confer together
on the subjects, and to disclose the opinions of the cliurch
on the difficult points which it involved. These exa-
minators, at the head of whom was Bossuet, met at the
residence of M. Tronson, the early and attached friend
ofFenelon; and Fenelon himself, wlio began to feel hov/
much he was concerned in the result, was frequently con-
sulted respecting the sentiments of other writers on tl>c
question. In the mean time, before his supposed er-
rors were made the subject of any enquiry, he was nomi-
nated, in 1695, to the archbishopric of Cambrai, and gave
a striking instance of his distinteresledness of character,
and disapprobation of pluralities, by immediately resigning
the Abbey of St Valery. He was required by the King
still to retain his situation as preceptor, and to reside at
Versailles three months of every year, as the laws of the
church allowed, while during the other nine he should
communicate directions for the education of his pupils.
Scarcely, however, had he arrived at Cambrai, when he
heard that Madame Guyon was arrested; and at once per-
ceived that her enemies were powerful, and that their hos-
tility might extend to himself. Her imprudences had
irritated Bossuet to adopt the harshest measures against
her; and Fenelon'sreluctance to concur in the same severe
treatment and sweeping censures, rendered him an object
of suspicion to many of his ecclesiastical contemporaries,
and particulary estranged from him his former familiar
friend, the Bishop of Meaux. Having pledged himself,
in the course of the various discussions which took place,
to give a public declaration of his own sentiments, he wrote
his " Maxims of the Saints," which he submitted before
publication to the Cardinal de Noailles, to M. Tronson,
and to M. Perot, a Doctor of the Sorbonnc, an acute
scholastic theologian, who had been one of the examinators
and censurers of Madame Guyon, and who had long been
devoted to Bossuet. With a docility, w-hich extorted their
admiration, he altered every passage to which they ob-
jected ; and received their joint declaration, that his book
was correct and useful. No sooner, however, did it ap-
pear, in 1 69", than it was denounced as heretical ; and a
scene of almost inexplicable persecution commenced
against him, under the conduct of Bossuet, who person-
ally accused him of fanaticism to the king, and determined
to be satisfied with nothing less than extorting from him
an absolute recantation. The principal question in the
controversy was, that Fenelon maintained the existence of
a pure and disinterested love towards God ; while Bossuet
taught, that this love should always have for its foundation
the hope of celestial happiness.* The Archbishop of Cam-
brai resolved to submit his work to the decision of the
Pope ; and he made this appeal with the full permission
of the King. But tiiis would not satisfy the requisitions of
his enemies; and, from an amiable desire of conciliation,
he entered into a variety of personal discussions and ex-
planations, of which his opponents availed themselves to
effect his disgrace at court. He received a peremptory
order to retire to his diocese ; and was, at the same time,
refused permission to plead his cause in person at Rome.
His most valuable friends retained their attachment to his
person in defiance of all considerations, either of fear or
flattery ; and tiie young Duke of Burgundy, having in vain
endeavoured to prevent his exile, prevailed at least, (though

tills favour v.'as soon revoked), that he should be allowed
to retain the title of ids preceptor. Innocent XII. was very
desirous to settle the affair in the most conciliatory man-
ner; but, in compliance with the requisition of Louis XIV.
he appointed ten examinators of Fcnelon's work, five of
whom voted in its favour. The Pope himself was secretly
dispused to befriend the accused Archbishop, and is said
to liave expressed his personal opinion in these words :
" The Archbishop of Cambrai has erred from an excess of
love to God ; the Bishop of Meaux has sinned from a want
of due love to his neighbour." It has also been said of
the two characters, " L'un prouvc la religion I'autre la
fait aimer." But a fresh remonstrance from the King of
France prevailed with tlie Pontiif to refer the examination
to the assembly of Cardinals ; and, after a sti'uggle highly
honourable to the friends of Fenelon, a formal, but mode-
rate, condemnation of his book, was issued from the court
of Rome in 1599. During the whole course of this enquiry,
the mildness and serenity of the Archbishop formed a
striking contrast with the asperity and rancour of his
enemies ; and, when he heard of his sentence, as he was
ascending the pulpit on the day of the Annunciation, in-
stantly changing the plan of the discourse which he had
prepared for that occasion, he delivered a sermon on the
duty of passive obedience, which drew tears of admiration
from his hearers. Actuated by a principle of religious
resignation to the will of God, and love of peace towards
his enemies, he published a formal submission to his sen-
tence. His conduct commanded universal admiration, and
the Pope was so touched with his meekness, that he v/rote
to him a letter with many expressions of respect. In the
general feeling of approbation which the whole nation en-
tertained towards the Archbishop, it was expected that he
would again be recalled to court, and reinstated in his for-
mer functions. But the strongest antipatliy against him
now appeared to have possessed the minds both of the
King and of Madr.me de Maintcnon ; and all tiie circum-
stances of their conduct concur to confirm the suspicion,
that there existed some secret and more powerful cause of
his late persecution than his theological opinions. Their
refusal to authorise his return to Versailles, has been as-
cribed to the publication of " Telemachus," which a ser-
vant of Fenelon's had, without his knowledge, first cir-
culated in manuscript, and afterwards sold to a printer at
Paris. This admirable production was denounced by the
court as a satire upon the government of Louis XIV. ; and
the utmost exertions were made to suppress it for ever.
In this opinion, though solemnly disclaimed by Fenelon,
Madame de Maintenon coincided ; and, whatever had been
the intention of the author, the king could not but feel that
its maxims were completely contradictory of those by
which he had been guided. The avidity with which it
was perused, and the approbation which it received in
every nation of Europe, expressed at least an implied con-
demnation, if not of Louis himself, yet of the political prin-
ciples by which his reign had been directed. There arc
strong cfvidences, however, of an earlier and more invete-
rate dislike towards Fenelon, in the heart of the favourite
Madame de Maintenon, and to which his future disgrace
may be considered as principally owing. That lady, not
satisfied with being the mistress, aspired to become the
wife of Louis ; but the king's confessor. Father la Chaise,
referred the point to the archbishop of Cambrai, as the
ablest casuist at court. His opinions were hostile to the
hopes of Madame de Maintenon ; and, from that moment, *

* These two opinions, apparently so opposite and incompatible, are most ingeniously and satisfactorily reconciled by Bishop Horsley in
his 2d Sermon on Phil. iii. 15.— See his sermons, vol. iii. p. 389.

Vol. IX. Part I. D

FENELON.

his ruin was meditatecl.* But whatever may have been
the immediate cause of that avowed or secret hostility to
which he fell a victim, there can be little doubt that he
had become an object of undefined antipathy to the inhabi-
tants of Versailles ; that the unbending integrity of his
political morals, and the undcviating purity of his Christian
standard, could never have coalesced with the maxims and
TTianncrs of that unprincipled court; and that, sooner or
later, though Madame Guyon had never existed, he must
have been compelled to withdraw from the scenes of pub-
lic intrigue. But the persecution to which he was sub-
jected, only served to proclaim the virulence of his ene-
mies; and his banishment froin court, only aHorded an op-
portunity of displaying the virtues of his character as a
Christian pastor. His manner of life at Cambrai, was
retired, peaceful, and uniform in a remarkable degree.
He rose early, as he had been accusloined from his youth,
and performed mass every day in his chapel. He dined
at noon, according to the practice of those times, and par-
took only of the simplest food. All the ecclesiastics of his
household were admitted to his table, where he promoted
chearful conversation, while he preserved the most de-
corous behaviour. After dinner, he dispatched the more
formal business of his diocese; and unless he was induced
by the weather, or called in duty, to go abroad, generally
retired till half past eight o'clock. About nine, he appear-
ed at supper, where he ate nothing but an egg or pulse ;
and about ten, his domestics were assembled in the prin-
cipal room, where an almoner read the evening prayers,
and the archbishop pronounced the benediction. The only
recreation in which he indulged, was walking ; and he took
great deliglit in the placid views of nature, the pious
meditations when alone, and the pleasing conversations
with his friends, which he enjoyed amidst these rural *
scenes. In the course of his walks, he would sit down
upon the grass to converse with the peasants whom he
met, or would visit them in their cottages, to offer the con-
solations which they required, and would often accept their
invitation to place himself at their table, and partake of
their homely meals. He preached regularly during Lent
in some of the churches of Cambrai ; and there was not a
single puisli or town in his diocese where he had not
made a personal visit, and publicly instructed the people.
Even the desolations of war did not interrupt his assidiiity
in the duties of his office ; and while his diocese was in the
possession of the allied armies of Marlborough and Eugene,
he was not only permitted, without molestation, to visit
every quarter, but protected by escorts, and received with
honours wherever he appeared. When they were inform-
ed that any of his property was in their neighbourhood,
they placed a guard for its preservation ; and the towns
and villages under his jurisdiction, became asylums to the
inhabitants of the surrounding country. In 1711, when
the allied armies approached within sight of Cambrai, the
little town of Chateau Cambresis, the principal domain of
the Archbishop, was guarded by a detachment of IMnrl-
borough's soldiers ; but perceiving that as his own forces
were in want of pi'ovisions, he should no longer be able
to prevent them from seizing the stores of grain which it
contained, and which the neighbouring inhabitants had
deposited there under the pi-otection of Fenelon's name,
he informed him of the necessity tor removing it, and
escorted the carriages which conveyed it to the outposts
of the French head-quarters. The worthy pi-elate availed
himself of the security granted to his jiroperty, and the
safe conduct provided for his person, to furnish relief and
consolation to the suffering people under his care. His

progress was attended with a temporary siispension of the
hori'ors of war, and the season ot his pastoral visits, ob-
serves one of his biographers, might justly have been de-
nominated " the truce of God." He opened his granaries
to feed the soldiers of his king, and afforded an asylum to
the wretched wanderers, whom hostilities had deprived of
a home. When his own residence could no longer afford
them accommodation, he hired houses for their reception,
and often distributed their food with his own hands. He
made frequent excursions in order to recover their effects;
and even paid from Ills own purse, the contributions levied
by the French government on the curates of his diocese.
The French courtiers vvho served in the army which de-
fended Flanders, carefully avoided him, and even sought
to please their superiors by shewing contempt lor his
character; but his pupil, the Duke of Burgundy, still re-
tained for his preceptor all that affection and respect which
his virtues had inspired ; and in the first letter which he
was permitted to write to him, dated in 1701, strongly ex-
pressed the continuance of his esteem, and the disgust
with which he had regarded the ti-eatraent to which he
had been exposed.

When passing through Cambrai in 1708, to take the
command of the army along with Marshal de Bouiffirrs, he
obtained permission to visit the Archbishop, but only upon
condition that a third person sliould be pi'csent. Their
interview was therefore shoi't, and their conversation re-
strained ; but, with a voice and manner full of meaning,
the Duke said before his departure, " I know what I owe
you ; you know what I am to you." This excellent prince,
who, by the death of the Dauphin, had become heir ap-
parent of the throne of France, ditd on the 18lh of Fe-
bruary 1712 ; and for many days the anguish of Fenelon's
mind was so great, as to alarm his friends with apprehen-
sions for his life. When he received the afflicting intel-
ligence, the only words which he uttered were these,
" Every tie is snapped asunder; nothing now holds me to
the earth." Yet his resignation to the will of h-'-aven was
unreserved; and he was known to have declared, " If there
needed no more than to move a straw to bring him to life
again, contrary to the divine pleasure, I would not do it."
Nine months after this calamitous event, the Duke de
Chevreuse, one of his most intimate associates, was carried
to the grave; and in 1714, the last of his early friends, the
Duke de Beauvilliers, finished the journey of life. The
good Arciibishop, enfeebled in body, and overwhelmed
with afflictions, survived only four months. In the begin-
ning of the year 1715, he was seized with an inflammation
in his lungs, accompanied with continued fever. He anti-
cipated the event, and appeai-ed utterly indifferent to all
sublunary things. During the continuance of his illness,
which lasted seven days, and occasioned him extreme suf-
fering, he was wholly engaged in listening to the reading
of the sacred scriptures ; and shewed peculiar interest in
attending to the last verses of the fourth, and the first nine
of the fifth chapters of the second epistle to the Corin-
thians. He died in the 64th year of his age, on the 7lh of
Januai-y 1715.

In the character of Fenelon, there appears an extraor-
dinary union of intellectual greatness and of moral excel-
lence. The governing principle of his whole mind and
conduct was the spirit of Christianity, pure and fervent,
which preserved his integrity uncontaminaled amidst the
snares of a licentious court, and his affections undebased
by the superstitions of a corrupted cimrch. But liis piety,
while uirequalled, was of the most conciliating and at-
tractive nature ; and his talents, scarcely less unrivalled,

* See Guardian, vol. i. Xos. 46, 47, 48 ; and Voltaire's Hist, de la siecle de Louis. XIV.

FENELON.

were exerted with a degree of modesty and aflubility, which
are not often found to accompany superior endowments.
This, indeed, may be considered as the chanicterislic fea-
ture of his mind, tliat it was compounded of a variety of
tiie rarest tiualilics, wliicli are so seldom found united in
ovic individual, as to be thought utterly incapable in their
very nature. Learning, enlivened by genius, tempered by
humility, consecrated by devotion, supported by inflexible
integrity, softened by mild benevolence, and graced by
attractive manners; this is more like a character which
imagination might draw, than human nature realize ; yet
such, by the testimony of his contemporaries, and by the
acknowledgment even of his enemies, was the character
of Fenelon. So fascinating was the charm of these com-
bined attractions, that, in the words of the Duke de St
Simon, " il failoit faire effort pour cesser de le regarder;"
and he obtained so irresistible an ascendancy over every
one who approached him, that all his friends, however
exalted in rank, or distinguished by talents, became in a
manner his disciples. " The Archbishop of Cambrai,"
says the Chancellor D'Aguesseau, "was one of those un-
common men, who are destined to give lustre to their age,
and who do equal honour to human nature by their virtues,
and to literature by their superior talents. He was affable
in bis deportment, and luminous in his discourse; the pe-
culiar qualities of which were a rich, delicate, and a pow-
erful imagination, but which never let its power be felt.
His eloquence had more of mildness in it than vehemence ;
and he triumphed as much by the charms of his conversa-
tion, as by the superiority of his talents. He always brought
himself to the level of his company. He never dispu-
ted, and appeared to yield to others at the very time that
he was leading them. Grace dwelt upon his lips; he
seemed to discuss the greatest subjects with facility, the
most trifling were ennobled by his pen; and upon the most
barren topics he scattered the flowers of rhetoric. A noble
singularity pervaded his whole person ; and a certain un-
definable and sublime simplicity, gave to his appearance
the air of a prophet. The jjeculiar but unaffected mode
of expression wliich he adopted, made many persons be-
lieve that he possessed universal knowledge as if by in-
spiration : it might indeed have been almost said, that he
rather invented what he knew than learned it. He was
always original and creative; imitating no one, and him-
self inimitable." The same man who could ascend the
pulpit of a country church, to preach to the Flemish pea-
santry in a language suitable to the sirnplicity of their
manners, and to the weakness of their understandings, and
afterwards descend to explain the catechism to chiklren,
shewed himself capable of conducting t!:e concerns of a
tingdom. When the affairs of Louis XIV. were in a
state of derangement approaching to ruin, the archbishop
of Cambrai generously rendered him the most valuable
political assistance. Amidst the labours of his diocese, he
applied himself to devise measures for re-organizing the
cabinet, and repairing the resources of France, and dis-
played all the promptitude and sagacity of the most expe-
rienced statesman. He even controuled in some degree
the military operations of the Duke of Burgundy, whose
errors as a general had made him unpopular ; and, in shoi t,
proved himself fully capable of apprehending arid illus-
trating whatever subject presented itself to his considera-
tion.

Of his writings we have left ourselves little room to
give a detailed account ; but they are such as must ren-
der his name immortal, and contribute essentially to the

improvement of the human race. A fire, which consumed
his palace at Cambrai in 1697, destroyed many of his most
valuable manuscripts, especially those which were con-
nected with the education of his royal pupil, and upon
which he had employed the best years of Ins life, — an
event which scarcely disturbed for a moment the habitual
serenity of his mind, but which the friends of religion and
of literature can never cease to deplore.* His '/'realise on
the Education of a Dmighter, published in 1687, though
not originally intended for the public, may be considered
as a compendium of the most useful precepts on the sub-
ject, expressed with the greatest simplicity and precision.
His Treatise on the Ministry of Pastors, published in 1688,
is intended to vindicate the spiritual authority of the church
of Rome, and is at least written with a degree of candour
and temper seldom found in ecclesiastical controversies.
His various replies to his assailants on the subject of
Quietism, were composed with astonishing rapidity, yet
with a perspicuity and precision which seemed to initiate
the reader into the inost difHcult points in theology, and
with a suhtilty of genius which confounded the talents of
liossuet himself. He wrote many pieces against the Jan-
senists, especially Four Pastoral tetters, printed in 1704;
and his share in this contest is certainly the least amiable
part of his conduct. T/ie Dialogues of the Dead were
composed for the use of his i)upil, and intended to fix
upon his memory the real merits of the most distinguish-
ed characters recorded in history. They were first pub-
lished in 1712, after the Duke of Burgundy's death, and
without the author's name or consent; and it was not till
1730 that a complete edition was given to the world. The
Adventures of Telemachus, which was not originally de-
signed for publication, but entirely for the instruction of
the Duke of Burgundy, seems to have been composed
between the years 1693 and 1697; and as it appears to
have been designed to remain a secret between the precep-
tor and his pupil, this admirable peiformance, had not the
lucky treachery of a transcriber prevailed, might have
shared the fate of the other papers in the young prince's
cabinet, which Louis committed to the flames. His De-
mojistration of the Being of a God, which he publislied in
1713, is, to say the least, the best hook on the subject in
the French lani^uage. H's Letters on Religion and Meta-
fihysics, written to the Duke of Orleans, were |)ublibhed
after his death, and are chiefly suited to a member of the
church of Ron)e. His Dialogues on the Eloquence of the
Pulfiit, wet e composed in his youth, but never made known
during his life, and not published till the year 1718. Tliis
production may be pronoiniced, with Cardinal Maury, to
be the best didactic work for preachers, and to be founded
upon tiie principles of nature and good sense. His Lives
of the ^Indent Phihsojihers is an excellent elementary work
foi- youth ; and a very neat trausiation, recently published
by the Rev. John Cormack, has n\ade it accessible to the
English reader. His Oeuvres Sfiirituelles, a collection of
letters to his friends, also publisned after his death, con-
tain many maxims of the most sublime piety, and many
excellent rules of conduct in the various circumstances of
life. The few sermons which have been printed fiom the
pen of Fenelon, were composed during his youth for par-
ticular occasions, and furnish no idea of his usual pulpit
addresses. The discourse which he delivered in 1707, at
the consecration of the Elector of Cologne, was adapted
to the miignifieence of the ceremony, and proves his powers
to have rivalled the most eminent orators of his time; but
it was his ordinary practice, according to the maxims which

• Louis XIV is said to have committed to ihe fiames, witli his own liand, all the letters of Fenelon to the Duke of Biirguntly, with only
.•ne exception, which Madame de MaliUenon preserved, and sent to the Uuke de BeauviUiers,

D 2

FEN

lER

lie inculcates in his Dialogues on Eloquence, to write no-
thing more of his sermons than the principal heads — a
prac'icc which liis astonishing fertility of mind and fluency
of expression rendered safe in his hands, but which ordi-
nary men would do well to follow with caution. Those
who wish to know more of this extraordinary man, are re-
ferred to Querheuf's Vie dc Fcnclon ; Ramsay's Hist, de
la vie de M. Fcnclon ; Eloge de Fenelon, par M. D'Alem-
bert ; and particularly Ikiusset's Life of Fcrielon, transla-
ted by Mitdford. (7)

FENTON, Elijah, an English poet of some note,
was born near Newcastle in Staffordshire, of an ancient
family, whose estate was very considerable. But he hap-
pened to be the youngest of eleven children, and was there-
fore necessarily destined to some lucrative profession. Ac-
cordingly, he was first sent to school, and afterwards to
Cambridge ; but doubting the legality of the government,
and refusing to qualify himself for public employment, by
taking the requisite oaths, he sacrificed his interest to his
conscience, and left the university without a degree.

Fenton was thus excluded from the ordinary and re-
gular sources of occupation and emolument, and reduced
lo the necessity of seeking an uncertain and fortuitous
livelihood. The obscurity attending such a mode of life,
renders it impossible to trace his varying circumstances,
or to discover what means he used for his support. It is
certain, however, that he kept his name unsullied, and that
his character has never been subjected to any mean or
dishonourable imputation.

He was a while secretary to Charles, Earl of Orrery,
in Flanders, and tutor to the son of that nobleman. At
one time, he was assistant in the school of Mr Bonwicke
in Surry, and at another kept a school of his own at Se-
venoaks in Kent, which he brought into considerable re-
pute; but was persuaded to leave it, in 1710, by Mr St
John, under a promise of some more honourable employ-
ment, of which, however, he appears to have been disap-
pointed.

In 1707, he published a collection of poems, ^yhlch pro-
cured bim admission to the company of the v/its of his
time ; and his amiable manners made him be esteemed by
all who knew him. Although he professed the principles
of a non-juror, he zealously employed his pen in the praise
of Queen Anne; and very liberally extolled the duke of
Marlborough, when he was at the height of his glory.
But his elegant penegyrics do not seem to have procured
him any patronage from the great.

Pope is said to have once placed him in a situation from
which he might have derived great advantage. Craggs,
-when he became secretary of state about 1720, feeling his
want of literature, desired Pope to procure him an instruc-
tor, by whose assistance he might supply the deficiencies
of his education. Pope recommended Fenton, and his
choice proved acceptable to Craggs. But the small-pox
imfortunately carried off the patron, and put an end to the
pleasing expectations of Fenton.

When pope resolved lo engage auxiliaries in the trans-
lation of the Odyssey, he distributed twelve books between
Broome and Fenton. The books allotted to the latter,
•were the first, the fourth, the nineteenth, and the twenti-
eth. In what manner Fenton performed the task assigned
to him, is well known to the readers of poetry.

In 1723, he exhibited his tragedy of Mariamne, to which
Southern, at whose house it was written, is said to have
contributed such hints as his theatrical experience enabled
him to supply. When the piece was shewn to Cibber, he
.•ejected it, and insolently advised the author to engage
himself in some employment of honest labour, by which
iic might obtain that support which he could never hope

to derive from his poetry. The play, however, was per-
formed at the other theatre; and the petulant judgment
of Cibber was practically confuted by general applause.
Indeed the representation was eminently successful, and
Fcnlon's profits upon this occasion are said to have amount-
ed to near a thousand pounds.

It was probaldy after the representation of his tragedy,
that he undertook to revise the punctuation of Milton's
poems, which, as the author neither wrote the original
copy, nor corrected the press, was supposed to be capa-
ble uf amendment. To this edition, he prefixed a short
and elegant account of Milton's life. He likewise publish-
ed, in 1729, a very splendid edition of Waller, with notes,
often useful and entertaining, but abounding too much in
liberal quotations from Clarendon.

The latter part of Fcnton's life was spent in quiet and
easy circumstances. Upon Pope's recommendation, he
had been invited by the widow of Sir William Trumbull
to educate her son, whom he first instructed at home, and
afterwards attended to Cambridge. Having acquitted him-
self in this business to the satisfaction of his patroness,
the lady afterwards detained him, as the auditor of her
accounts, at her seat of Easthampstead, in Berkshire,
where he died in 1730.

Fenton was large in stature, and inclined to corpulence,
which tendency was increased by a sluggish and sedentary
mode of living. His moral character stands unimpeached ;
and his manners and conversation were so amiable and en-
gaging, that all his acquaintance treated him with fondness,
and spoke of him with praise. As a poet, he did not dis-
cover much inventive genius ; but he has a good title to be
considered an accomplished scholar, and a skilful versifier.
Pope, who had lived in habits of sincerce friendship
with Fenton, honoured his memory with the following
epitaph :

" This modest stone, which few vain marbles can.

May truly say, here lies an honest man ;

A poet bless'J beyond the poet's fate,

AVhom lieav'n kept sacred from the proud and great;

Foe to loud praise, and fiiend to learned ease.

Content with science in the vale of peace,

Calmly he look'd on either life, and here

Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear ;

From nature's temp'rate feast rose satisfied,

Thank'd heav'n that he had liv'd, and that he dy'd."

FERDINAND. See Spain.

FERE La, the name of a town of France, in the de-
partment of the Aisne. It is situated near the river Sarre,
which runs into the Oise. The town is very long, and
contains many excellent houses. It was strongly fortified
by Cardinal Mazarine, but is now dismantled. In approach-
ing it from Laon, we pass over a fosse, crossed by a paltry
wooden bridge, and enter it by an old gate. A stream,
with several mills upon it, runs through the town. On
leaving the town for St Quintin, the writer of this article
perceived a branch of the St Quintin canal, where many
vessels loaded with coals were lying close to the town.
The surrounding country is rich and well wooded. Num-
ber of houses 550. Population 2604. (w)

FERGUSON, James, a celebrated lecturer, and writer
on astronomy and other branches of natural philosophy,
was born at Keith, a small town in the county of Banff, in
the north of Scotland, in the year 1710. While his father
was teaching his eldest son to read the Scotch Catechism,
James was busy in learning the same lesson, without the
knowledge of any person, and as soon as the Catechism
was unemployed, he studied the lesson which had been
taught to his brother, and, on the occurrence of any difB-

FERGUSON.

culty, he had recourse to an oUl woman who lived in the
neighbourhood. Some time afterwards, his father was as-
tonished to find James reading by himself. He imme-
diately taught him writing, and, with about three months
attendance at the grammar school of Keitli, this was all
the education which our author ever received.

When he was about seven or eight years of age, a part
of his father's roof fell in, and a proj) and a lever were
applied to an upright spar to raise it to its former place.
The facility with which it was eficcted excited tlie asto-
nishment of the young mechanic, and led him to think on
the means by which it was accomplished. He immediate-
ly began to construct levers; he discovered that the power
was proportional to the length of the difl'crent parts of the
lever on either side of the prop. lie invented the wheel
and axle, by endeavouring to make a lever that would raise
bodies to any height; and by means of a turning lathe of
his father's, and a little knife, he was enabled to make
models of these diflerent machines. Ferguson afterwards
wrote out a short account of these machines, illustrated
with figures ; and upon shewing it to a gentleman, he was
surprised to learn tliat the same things liad been known
before, and was much pleased to observe that his own ac-
count coincided with wiiat he found in other books.

In consequence of his father's poverty, James began the
occupation of a shepherd, and hence he has been ridicu-
lously represented by Lalande, as having been shepherd
to the king- of England for Scotland.* His nights were
now spent in studying the stars, while in the day-time he
made models of mills and spinning wheels. Our author
next went into the service of a farmer of the name of
James Glashan. When his work was over, he went into
the fields with a blanket about him, and having stretched
a thread with small beads upon it, he slid the beads till
they hid particular stars from his eye, and then laying the
thread down upon a piece of paper, he marked the stars
upon it according to their respective positions. His mas-
ter at first laughed at this apparently ridiculous occupa-
tion; but as soon as he knew the object of it, he not only
encouraged him to proceed, but often performed young
Ferguson's work with his own hand, that he might leave
him time during the day to make clean copies of his rude
planispheres. He soon after received from the minister
of Keith a map of the earth, and compasses, ruler, pens,
ink and paper, for the purpose of copying it ; and his ge-
nerous master frequently took the threshing flail out of
his hands and worked himself, while Ferguson was sitting
beside him in the barn busy with his ruler and compasses.
Upon his return to the minister of Keith with the copy of
his map, he saw a man of the name of Cantley painting a
sun-dial, and shewed him the copy of the map. Cantley
was butler to Mr Grant of Achoynaney, and appears to
have been a man of singular attainments. Ferguson had
the good fortune to be introduced to Mr Grant, who in-
vited him to live in his house, — a request with which he
gladly complied as soon as his term of servitude was over.
Cantley taught him decimal arithmetic and algebra, and
they had just begun geometry, v/hen Cantley left the ser-
vice of Mr Grant for that of the Earl of Fife, who lived
at several miles distance. " Cantley," says Mr Ferguson,
" was the most extraordinary man that I ever was ac-
quainted with, or perhaps ever shall see; for he was a
complete master of ariihmetic, a good mathematician, a
master of music on every known instrument except the
harp, understood Latin, French, and Greek, let blood ex-
tremely well, and could even prescribe as a physician on
any urgent occasion."

Having received from this extraordinary butler a pre-
sent of Gordon's G'cografiliical Grtnnmar, Ferguson con-
structed a globe from the description which is there given
of it; and having delineated upon it a ma]) of the world,
he was enabled to solve all the common problems in geo-
graphy and astronomy.

Ferguson next wentjnto the service of a miller, expect-
ing to have suflicient time to study decimal aiitliirictic and
geometry. His master, however, fond of drinking, left
him the wliole charge of the mill, and almost starved him
for want of food. As soon as he had recovered the strength
which he had lost by the poverty of his diet, he went into
the service of a Dr Young, who acted in the joint capa-
city of a farmer and a physician, and who promised to in-
struct him in the medical profession. This new master,
however, was as bad as the former one. He never even
shewed him one of his books, and overwrought him to
such a degree, that at the end of three months he was
obliged to leave him in a state of great debility, and with-
out receiving a farthing of wages. This inhuman doctor
did not even give him any medical advice, and it was only
by medicines from his old friend Cantley, who lived at 12
miles distance, that he recovered his strength. About that
time he constructed a wooden clock, the frame of whici»
was of wood, the hours being struck on the neck of a
broken bottle instead of a bell. Some time afterwards,
when a gentleman was riding past his father's house, he
asked him what o'clock it was ; and having received a very
good-natured answer, he begged of him to shew him the
inside of his watch, as he could not conceive how it went
without a weight and a string. The gentleman kindly
complied with this request, and not only shewed him the
inside of his watch, but explained to him very clearly in
what manner the box was carried round by the imcoiling
of the spring. Ferguson then tried to construct a watch
with wooden wheels, and a whalebone spring; but upon
putting on the balance, he found that the teeth of the
wheels were too weak to bear the force of the spring, al-
though the wheels ran fast enough when the balance was
taken off. He inclosed the whole in a wooden case, a lit-
tle larger than a breakfast cup; but a clumsy neighbour
one day looking at the watch, allowed it to fall, and crush-
ed it to pieces with his foot. Ferguson was next employ-
ed in cleaning and repairing clocks ; and when he was liv-
ing at the house of Sir James Dunbar of Durn, he painted
a map of the celestial and terrestrial globe, upon two large
spherical stones on the top of his gateway. These globes
had their axes parallel to that of the earth, and not only
served for dials, but exhibited a number of interesting
geographical phenomena. Having drawn some patterns
for needlework for Lady Dipple, (sister of Sir James Dun-
bar), he was very extensively employed in this work by
the ladies in the vicinity, and he received so much money
from his new employment, that he was often able to re-
lieve the wants of his indigent father. Lady Dipple had
the goodness to invite him to Edinburgh, and offered him
a year's bed and board at her house, that he might have an
opportunity of acquiring a knowledge of painting. He
drew portraits of several persons in Edinburgh ; and, by
the patronage of the Marchioness of Douglas, he obtained
a considerable deal of lucrative employment, and thus be-
gan a profession which he followed for 26 years. During
his stay of two years in Edinburgh, he took a violent incli-
nation to study medicine, and he forsook for a time all his
favourite studies. He then went to the country with a
cargo of medicines and plasters, but with a very scanty
knowledge of the art, and began to practise medicine at

B(rger au rot D\i"gl(t(rre en Ecosse, Astronomie de Lalande, torn, i. p. 163.

FERGUSON.

the place of his nativity. lie soon saw, however, that lie
was an unsuccessful |)i'actitioner ; ancf findini^ that no one
paid hiui for his medicines, he went to Inverness for llic
])uri)ose of resuming his profession as a jiainter. During
his stay at Invernt-ss, lie recommenced his astionomical
bUidics, and after much labour, he invent<'d and completed
a machine called the ,'lstronornictil Rolula, for exhibiting
the eclipses of the sun and moon. Mr Macbcan, one of
the minibters of Inverness, compared the results given by
this machine with the calculations given in the common
almanac, and found them nearly the same. At his advice,
he wrote to the celebrated Colin M'Laurin, Professor of
Mathematics in Edinburgh, and requested his opinion of
the new instrument. M'Laurin returned him a friendly
answer, and requested from him a drawing of his rotula,
that he might examine it, and endeavour to procure a sub-
scription for the purpose of getting it engraved upon cop-
perplates. Mr Ferguson immediately complied with this
kind request, and a handsome subscription was obtained
thi'ough the influence of the Professor. The plates of the
rotula were engraved and published, and went tiirough
several impressions, till the year 1753, when they were
rendered useless by the change of style. When he went
to Edinburgh, he was received with the greatest kindness
by M'Laurin, who shewed him his orrery, but was not able
to let him see its construction. Ferguson immediately set
to work, and constructed an orrery of wood, which exhi-
bited almost all the leading phenomena in astronomy.
M'Laurin was so much pleased with this machine, that he
desired Ferguson to read a lecture upon it before the ma-
thematical class. He soon afterwards, in 1743, made a
smaller and a neater orrery, having all the wheels of ivory,
and he took it with him to London, where it was bought
by Sir Dudley Rider.

When he reached London, he began his old profession
of portrait painting, amusing himself at his leisure hours
with his astronomical studies. He now constructed a sim-
ple machine for delineating the moon's path and that of the
earth, on a long piece of paper laid on the floor. This ma-
chine was shewn to Martin Folkcs, President of the Royal
Society, who took Mr Ferguson to tbe meeting of the So-
ciety that evening, when he shewed his instrument, and
explained the use of it. When the Society was dismissed,
one of the members, Mr John Ellicott, a celebrated watch-
maker, asked Ferguson to dine with him at Hackney,
and upon that occasion he shewed him that he had invent-
ed and constructed the very same machine many years be-
fore.

In 1747, Mr Ferguson published a dissertation on the
phenomena of the harvest moon, with the description of a
new orrery with only four wheels. In 1748, he read lec-
tures on the eclipse of the sun that happened on the I4th
of July of that year. He afterwards read astronomical
lectures on an orrery which he constructed, and which he
has represented in the 6th antl 7th Plates of his Mechani-
cal Exercises. He then began to construct an apparatus
for lectures on mechanics and other branches of experi-
mental philosophy. These lectures were repeated in va-
rious parts of the kingdom, and added both to the fame and
wealth of our author. In the year 1754. Ferguson publish-
ed " A brief Description of the Solar System, to which is
subjoined an Astronomical Account of the year of our Sa-
viour's Crucifixion, and likewise an Idea of the IMaterial
Universe, deduced from a Survey of the Solar System."
In 175 5, he published in ot»e vol. quarto, one of his best
works, entitled "Astronomy exi)lained upon Sir Isaac
Newton's Principles, and made easy to those who have
not studied Mathematics." This work was written with
such uncommon perspicuity and plainness, that it was

translated into the German and Swedish languages, and
lias undergone no fewer than thirteen or fourteen edi-
tions. A new edition of it has lately been published by
Dr IJrewstcr, in 2 vols. 8vo, containing an account of all
the new discoveries in the science since the time of Fer-
guson.

About this time Mr Ferguson was introduced to Iris
present Majesty, then Prince of Wales, who attended his
lectures, and took great pleasure in conversing with hirn
on astronomical subjects. Mr Ferguson received several
presents from the prince, and when he ascended the throne,
lie allowed him 50/. a year out of his privy purse, which
■was regulaily paid to him without any deduction.

In 1760, Ferguson published his " Lectures on Select
Subjects in Mechanics, Hydrostatics, Hydraulics, Pneu-
matics, Optics, Geography, Astronomy, antl Dialling,"
kc. This work, which is perhaps the best and the most
useful that he ever wrote, passed through several edi-
tions, and contributed more to the diffusion of mechanical
knowledge among all classes of people, than all the works
that have been written upon these subjects. A new edi-
tion of it in 2 vols. 8vo, with an Appendix, containing an
accoi.nt of all the recent inventions and discoveries, was
published by Dr Brewster in 1805, and a second edition in
1806.

In 1761, he published his " Plain Method of determin-
ing the Parallax of \'enus by her Transit over the Sun,
and thence, by analogy, the Parallax and Distance of the
Sun, and of all the i-est of the Planets." In 1763, he was
elected a Fellow of the Royal Society of London, and
was excused the payment of the usual fees, which had
only been done in the case of Sir Isaac Newton, and of
that ingenious and self-taught mathematician Mr Thomas
Simson of Woolwich. In the same year he published his
" Astronomical Tables and Precepts for calculating the
true Times of New and F'ull Moons, and shewing the
Method of Projecting Eclipses from the creation of the
World to A. D. 1800, to which is prefixed a short Theory
of the Solar and Lunar Motions." In 1767 he published
" Tables and Tracts relative to several Arts and Sciences,"
and also " A Supplement to the Lectures on Mecha-
nics, Hydrostatics, Sec." which is annexed to all the sub-
sequent editions of that work. His " Young Gentleman's
and Lady's Astronomy familiarly explained, in ten Dia-
logues," appeared in 1768, and was reprinted in 1769, under
the title of, " An easy Introduction to Astronomy, for Young
Gentlemen and Ladies." This little work has gone through
eight editions, and was translated into German in 1771.
Madame Genlis remarks, in her preface to the " Tales of
the Castle," that this work is so perspicuous, that a child
ten years old may completely understand the whole of it.
In the year 1770, he was chosen a member of the Ameri-
can Philosophical Society; and, in the same year, he pub-
lished his "Introduction to Electricity." His "Select
Mechanical Exercises, shewing how to construct different
Clocks, Orreries, and Sun-Dials, on plain and easy princi-
ples," &c. appeared in 1773, and were accompanied with
an account of his life, written by himself. In 1775, he
published " Two Letters to the Rev. John Kennedy, con-
taining an account of many mistakes in the asti'onomical
part of his scriptural chronology, and his abusive treatment
of astronomical authors." These were followed by a
third letter on the same subject. In the same year he pub-
lished his last work, entitled " The Art of Drawing in
Perspective, made easy to those who have no Knowledge
of the Mathematics." This work has gone through seve-
ral editions, and was translated into French by P. R. Le-
veque. Besidesthese works, Mr Ferguson communicated
several papers to the Royal Society, which were printed in

FERMANAGH.

the Transactions of that learned body; but* as the most im-
portant of them were reprinted in his own works, it is un-
necessary to give any enumeration of them at present. Mr
Ferguson had always a weak constitution ; and, alter strug-
gling against a lingering illness, he died on the 16th of
November, in 1776, in the 66th year of liis age, leaving
behind hiui an only son, who is still alive, and to whom he
bequeathed a very considerable sum of money, wliich he
had made by his lectures and his various works. (^)

FERMANAGfl, a county of Ireland, in the province of
Ulster. It is bounded on the west by Leitriui, on the north
by Tyrone and Donegal, on the east by Tyrone and iNIo-
naghan, and on the south by Cavan and Leilrim. Tnis
county is of very tmeven surface; it abounds in hills, many
of them of great height, and boggy ; and on the borders
of Tyrone and Cavan, and especially of Leitrim, it is particu-
larly mountainous. These high grounds afford a good coarse
pasture lor young cattle; and most of them are said to be
capable ol great improvement. But agriculture is not in
a flourishing condition; there is a want of enterprize, of
skill, and of encouragement. Notlung can shew more
clearly the barbarous state of husbandry in this district,
than the fact, well authenticated, that so late as tlie year
1808, it was the practice in some places to plough by the
tail ! In the northern part of the county, the farms are of
a large size, and the high grounds tolerably producuve;
and though there is bot a small portion of the land in til-
lage, the system of management is superior to what pre-
vails in the neighbourhood. Little wheat or clover is sown.
Oats are more conmion, and so is barley. In some quarters,
v/hen calculating the most profitable crop, they estimate
four stone of barley, and six of oats, to a gallon of waiskey.
Potatoes are quite common. In 1809, about 5000 Irish
acres were supposed to be sown with flax. In the neigh-
bourhood of Florence-court, the farms consist of from two
to 20 acres each, and belong almost wholly to manufactu-
rers. The grazing tenures are from 100 to 300 acres.
After all, the profits of farming must be consitlerable, if
jVIr Wakefield's information be correct, that " Enniskillen
market is attended weekly by about 30 or 40 farmers from
the vicinity, whose circumstances enable them to eat meat
daily, and to drink port wine." On the superior pasture
lands, there are cattle and sheep of a large size. Lord
Belmore's sheep at Castlecool, when fat, weigh 30 lb. per
(juarter. A considerable part of the county is occupied
■with daries. There is a small breed of cows here similar
to those in Down. There are no flocks of sheep: the
the number of this animal is small, and the breed in gene-
ral very inferior.

Labour is paid as often in money as in conveniences ; the
bound labourer generally in the latter. In 1811, the pri-
ces of labour, provisions, &,c. were as follow : a man, the
year round, \s. and a woman 6d. per day ; a carpenter, per
day, 3«. 6cl. and if constantly employed, 2s. 6d. ; a mason,
per day, 2». 6(/. : a thraslier, per duy, \s. \d., or, by piece-
work, from 6d. to 8d. per barrel of oats, Sd. to \0d. per do.
of barley, and Is. Id. to Is. 8d. per do. of wheat; a car
and horse per day. 2s. 2d.; a saddle-horse per do. is. 5d.;
a plough per do. lis. 4irf., and, for ploughing and sowing
an arre, from 26s. to 36a. ; a blacksmith, per stone of work,
Is. 6rf., or per day 2s &d. ; turf, per kish, 2s. ; sea-coal,
per barrel, 4.s. to 5s. ; culm, per do. 3s. ; lime, per do. Is.
8d. to 2s. ; a car, mounted, 41. 10s. ; potatoes per stone,
2d. to 4(/. ; salt butter, ptrcwt. 4/. \3s. id.; fresh do. per
lb. Is. ; hay, per ton, 3/. to 4/. ; whiskey, per gallon, 7s. 9i/.
to 10s.; strong ale, per quart, id.; porter, per gallon, Is.
3s. ; beef, per lb. 6d. ; mutton. 7d. ; pork, 3;/. ; lambs, per
score, 18/. to 22/.; eggs, per score, 6d.; cheese, per
lb. Is 6f/. ; bacon, per do. 6(/. , shoeing a horse, 4s. ; shoes,
per pair, 1 Is. Hd. ; salt, per stone, Is. 5d. ; undressed flax,

per cwt. il. 10s. to 5/. ; wool, per stone, 22s. to 20s. ; fowls,
per couple. Is. to Is. 6d.; wheat per barrel, 2/. 3s.; barley,
do. 19s. ; oats, do. ISs.'Gd.; quartern loaf of wheaten bread,
I.V.; flour, Ists, per cwt. li. 9s.; 2ds, do. 1/. 8s.; 3ds,
II. 4s.; oatmeal, per cwt. 16s.; labour in harvest of hay
and corn, per day, 2s. to 3s. ; mowing grass, per acre, 5s.;
rabbits, per couple, Is. 8d. ; milk, per quart, 2d.; corn
acre ol oats (tithe free to the tenant), per acre, 6/. to 8/. ;
do. meadow (uccurding to weight of grass, do.), 6/. to 9/. ;
do. polaloe land, do. 6/. 16s. 6^/. to HI. 8s.; do. flax, per
rood (tithe free), do. 2/ 5s. to 2/. 10s.

Some parts of this county are very hare of trees, but
other parts arc extremely well-wooded, and upon the whole
may be considered as superior in this respect to any dis-
trict ol Ireland. The ash is very common, running along
the hedgerows, and on the northern side of Lough Erne
appearing like a weed of the country : it is, however, of
modern introduction. Beech grows here to a large size.
There are also oaks, firs, sallows, and hazels. Elm is sel-
dom raised. At Lough Erne, the yew grows to an asto-
nishing bulk. The only knids of wood found in the bogs,
are fir, oak, and yew. Besides wood, the inhabitants of
this county make use of turf and coal as fuel.

Ml- Wakebeld computes the average rental of this coun-
ty at 1/. 5s. per green acre. Of course there is a great
variety in the rents of land, arising from quality of soil
and other circumstances. At Florence court, land lets at
U. 10s. per acre : near Enniskillen, it lets at 8/. 8s. per
corn acre. In general the leases run for three lives, or
thirty-one years : of late the period adopted is twenty-one
years and one life. There are here a few estates whose
whose rental is from 1500/. to 2000/. ; but by far the great-
est number of the estates are large, and there is no inter-
mediate step between the proprietors and the leaseholders.
Lord Enniskillen has an estate of 13,000/. per annum, as
also Colonel Archdale, and iNIr Brook of Crookboro. The
Marquis of Ely, Lord Belmorc, and Sir James Caldwell,
have property of from 6000/. to 7000/. per annum each.
There is a good deal of church property belonging to the
see of Clogiier.

There are several lakes in this county, but the most re-
markable is Lough Erne. It consists properly of two
lakes, the upper being nine miles long, and from one and
a half to five wide, and the lower one about ten miles in
length, and from two to eight in breadth. The two are
connected by a broad winding channel of about six miles,
resembling a river The ground occupied by Lougli Erne
is supposed to be 85 square miles. Its scenery is remarka-
bly fine and striking, comprehending both the beautiful and
the grand. There are in it between three and four hun-
dred islands, some of them large and fertile, and inhabited,
many of them well wooded, the whole of them disposed in
a very picturesque manner, and affording a variety of rich
and intt resting prospects. The Erne and several other
rivers run into it; it discharges itself at the north-west end
by a current of about seven miles, which runs very rapidly,
and at length precipitates itself over a grand cataract into
the sea at Bullyshannon. The falls of Belleek are esteem-
ed very beautiful, and deserving of the traveller's attention.
Lough Erne contains all the lish common to fresh water
lakes. The salmon here grow in a wonderful manner ;
some young ones having been found to increase at the rate
of 1 lb. a week. Great quantities of eels are caught near
Enniskillen ; eighty dozen sometimes in one night. Near
the falls of Belleek there is an eel weir, belonging to Mr
Piikenham, which lets at 120/. ptrar.iuim, and near it there
are three others which let at K-O/. each.

The chief sources of wealth to the inhabitants are the
linen manufacture and the rearing of black cattle. The
linen produced here is what is called 7-8ths. There are

FEU

FER

several of those bleach-greens, which finish for sale the
bleached linens that are sent to England. Illegal distilla-
tion is carried on to a considerable extent. There are
mills for grinding- oats, l)ut none for grinding wheat.

The principal, and indeed the only town of note in Fer-
managh, is Enniskillen. It is situated on an island formed
by the river or channel which unites the two lakes.

This county contains rich iron ore and coal. On Lord
Enniskillen's estate, west of Lough Erne, there are quar-
ries of marble. It is brown and white, beautifully veined,
and of a fine grain.

Fermanagh is divided into two by Lough Erne ; the di-
vision on the east of llie lake containing five baronies, and
that on the west containing three. It sends three members
to parliament, two of these being from the county, and one
from the burgh of Enniskillen. The freeholders in the
county amount to 5000; and political influence is so situa-
ted, that if theEai-1 of Enniskillen, Mr Brook, and Mr Arch-
dale be unanimous, they may return what member they
please. Enniskillen has twelve self-elected burgesses ;
and the Earl of Enniskillen is patron.

There are only 18 parishes in the county ; 15 of them
are in the diocese of Clogher, and the other three in that
of Kilmore. The Protestants are to the Catholics in tlie
proportion of one to three. Tiie hostility of the former to
the latter is carried to a high pitch of violence. In every
respect the Catholics are discouraged and kept down. All
the greatest proprietors are Protestants, and members of
the established church. The Protestant dissenters are few
in number. Sir Richard Hardinge has an estate of 81
farms, and the tenants in 79 of these are Protestants.

According to Dr Beaufoit, Fermanagh contains 719
square miles, or 455,298 acres English measure, the length
being 43 miles, and the breadth 33. Of these. Lough Erne
occupies 76,311. Mr Wakefield makes the superficial
contents 694 English square miles. The population of
the county is 71,800, and the number of houses 11,969,
being six individuals to a house. Excluding Lough Erne,
there are about 31 English acres to a house, or 5 J- acres to
each individual. See Newenham's Fie-,u of Ireland i
Wakefield's Statintical jiccounc of Ireland; Beaufort's
Memoir of a Maji of Ireland ; and Young's Tour through
Ireland, (t)

FERMAT (Peier), an eminent French mathematician,
who was born at Toulouse in 1590, and died in, 1663. He
was cotemporary with several mathematicians of the
first order, among whom may be mentioned, Pascal, Des
Cartes, Roberval, Torricelli, Huygens, Meziriac, Car-
cavi, Wallis, Sec. ; and furnished solutions of all the more
difficult problems which these illustrious men were in the
practice of proposing to one another. His predilection for
immerical researciies, led him to direct much of his atten-
.tion to prime numbers, a subject which had been almost
entirely neglected since the days of Erastosthenes. In
these researches he afforded striking proofs of the superi-
ority of his genius, by the discovery of many general and
curious properties of numbers which have no divisors,
and such as are composite. The indeterminate analysis also
occupied a good deal of his attention; and though Bachet
de Meziriac had already greatly extended and illustrated
the Diophantine problems, his researches were far surpas-
sed, in elegance, simplicity and generalization, by those of
Fermat. When Pascal was engaged at Paris in investiga-
ting the nature of figurate numbers, Fermat was eagerly
prosecuting the same subject at Toulouse, by a diff'erent
train of investigation ; and, indeed, on many occasions, these
two great men were frequently led to thcsame results, by
methods of enquiry which had little resemblance to each

other. Such interferences in their pursuits, did not, how-
ever, weaken the friendship to which the conformity of
their studies alone had given birth; and, though they were
never personally ac<|uainted, they uniformly did justice to
the merits of each otiier, with a liberality which is unknown
to little minds.

Fermat was scarcely more distinguished as a mathema-
tician than as a general scholar; and, like most of the
learned men who flourished in the age in which he lived,
he cultivated jurisprudence and elegant literature with no
less assiduity and success, than geometry and algebra. The
universality of his genius, and the extent of his attainments,
procured the esteem of his fellow-citizens, and raised him to
the dignity of a counsellor in the parliament of his native city.

But wiiile we are disposed to admit the originality
that characterizes the investigations of Fermat, we can-
not aquiesce in opinion with a modern writer of very
high authority, we mean La Place,* who affirms, without
any sort of proof, that he was the real inventor of the dif-
ferential calculus. The controversy on this subject has
already been laid at rest; and, as all the cotemporary wri-
ters were unanimous in ascribing the invention either to
Newton or Leibnitz, the most unexceptionable evidence is
now necessary, to support the claims of a third person to
any share in the merit of the discovery. Fermat, indeed,
in some of his investigations, employed methods resem-
bling the fluxionary calculus; and the same thing had been
done by Roberval and Pascal, in treating of the properties
of the cycloid; but the circumstances which constitute a
right to any important invention, must be founded, not upon
obscure and indirect hints, but upon a distinct develope-
ment of its principles, and the actual application of these to
the purposes of which they are susceptible of being ap-
plied. In this point of view, none of the predecessors of
Newton or Leibnitz can come in competition with them ;
and, without examining the merits of their respective
claims, we must still consider them as dividing exclusive-
ly the honour of the greatest discovery that has ever been
made by human ingenuity.

Fermat wrote dissertations on the following subjects: I.
A Method for the Quadrature of Parabolas ; 2. Another on
Maxima and Minima; 3. An Introduction to Geometrical
Loci; 4. A Treatise on Spherical Tangencies ; 5. A Resto-
ration of the two Books of Appolonius on Plane Loci; 6.
A general Method for the Dimension of Curve Lines. His
Opera varia Mathematica, printed at Toulouse in folio,
1679, contain also several smaller tracts, and a great num-
ber of letters to learned men. (a)

FERMENTATION, an intestine commotion, to which
certain substances of vegetable or animal origin are, more
or less, liable, from the spontaneous reaction of their con-
stituent elements. The process embraces a series of
changes of composition, and terminates in the formation of
new products, which differ essentially from the original
substance, as well as from one another. Fermentation is
accordingly divided into three kinds ; and to, these, epithets
have been applied descriptive of the products to which it
gives birth, namely, the vinous, the acetous, and the fiiitre-
factive. , After making some remarks upon the process in
general, we shall consider the subject under these three
heads.

It appears that no species of fermentation can take place
without some portion of moisture, and a certain elevation
of temperature. The presence of moisture is necessary,
because no chemical action can be displayed by solids, with-
out the intervention of water, to give mobility to their
component particles, and allow them to exert their mutual
attractions for each other; and hence, vegetable or animal

Theorie Analjtiqw des Probabilites.

FERMENTATION.

substances which are well dried, and kept free from mois-
ture, may be preserved for many years without suffering
any material change in their composition. The degrees of
heat necessary for fermentation vary with the different
kinds of it ; but below a certain temperature, the process
does not commence under any form, or is effectually check-
ed if it has already begun. Boeriiaave imagined that the
three kinds of fermentation which we have enumerated, al-
ways succeeded each other in the same invariable order ;
but though this is often the case, it by no means holds uni-
versally. Many substances undergo the acetous, without
having previously passed through the vinous fermentation ;
and a still greater number run into putrefaction that never
suffer any change analogous to the vinous or acetous pro-
cesses.

The vinous fermentation has been examined by chemists
"with a good deal of attention ; and a variety of useful facts
connected with the process have been noticed, though the
circumstances that may be deemed essential to it are still
involved in some degree of uncertainty. It is well known
that saccharine matter, in some form or other, passes most
readily into the vinous state, and that the product of the fer-
mentation is strongest when the substance which is sub-
jected to the process contains the largest portion of sugar ;
but it has not been decidedly ascertained whether sugar is
the only substance capable of being converted into ardent
spirit. When nutritive grains are employed to afford fer-
mented liquors, they' are previously exposed, at least in
part, to the operation of malting, the object of which is to
convert the farinaceous part into sugar by germination.
This operation was long held indispensibly necessary to
render the grain capable of the vinous fermentation ; but
experience has proved this opinion to be, in some measure,
a mistake. Spirit distillers have of late been in the prac-
tice of malting only part of the grain, and adding the rest
in a mashed or ground state ; and they have found it to an-
swer their purpose extremely well, when the latter is used
in a greater proportion than the former. It is not a little
singular, that when the farinaceous part of the mashed
grain is mixed with water, it passes into the state of an
acid, without acquiring any vinous quality ; but when mix-
ed with a quantity of saccharine matter, it undergoes the
vinous fermentation, and yields a larger portion of spirit
than the sweet matter alone would have afforded : a fact
which seems to indicate, that the matter already in the
state of sugar has the property of acting upon the farinace-
ous part of the grain, and converting it into a similar sub-
stance. Mr Irvine remarks, that " were it not for this pro-
perty of the farina, great loss would frequently be sustained
by the farmers in unfavourable seasons ; as grain that has
once begun to grow, and whose vegetation has been stop-
ped, can never be made to grow again. Such grain never
can undergo any farther malting : when grain has been
made to grow in this manner, it can hardly be supposed
that the change into saccharine matter is perfect or com-
plete. It therefore would be less proper for the vinous
fermentation, and would furnish a smaller quantity of spirit
than grain which had been perfectly malted. This grain,
however, when mixed with a quantity of perfect malt, and
fermented, furnishes as much spirit as if the whole had
been in the state of malt. The persons in this trade even
prefer it to an equal quantity of malt ; for in good seasons,
when no such half-malted grain can be got, they take good
grain, reduce it to meal, and mix it with their malt, and are
satisfied that they obtain more spirits in this \Tay, than from
an equal quantity of good malt."

Though sugar, in some modified form, appears to be the
only substance capable of the vinous fermentation, certain
other substances are necessary, both for the commence-

VoL. IX. Part. I.

ment and continuation of the process. A suitable quantity
of water must be added to the saccharine matter : if the
quantity, however, be in excess, the litjuor is apt to pass
into the acetous fermentation ; and if it be too little, the
process goes on difficultly and slowly. When the licjuor
to be fermented consists of a solution of pure sugar, a quan-
tity of yeast is also necessary to excite the fermentation,
and make it pass into the vinous state. Nor is the influ-
ence of temperature less essential : below 50° of Fahren-
heit's scale the vinous fermentation proceeds very slowly ;
and at the freezing point it is completely checked. Above
70° the process atlvances too rapidly, and unless it be duly
moderated, is apt to pass into the acetous stage.

The nature and action of yeast have been the subject of
chemical investigation. Lavoisier ascertained, that, be-
sides the other elements which are usually found in vege-
tables, it contained a quantity of nitrogen in its composition,
and so far evinced a connection with animalized matter.
The researches of Fabroni, Thenard, and Seguin have de-
monstrated that the fermenting property of yeast is owing
to the presence of a substance resembling gluten or albu-
men, which is derived from certain vegetable infusions, ca-
pable of spontaneous fermentation.

When circumstances are sufficiently favourable for the
vinous fermentation, the liquor, in passing into it, becomes
somewhat turbid, and manifests a kind of commotion
throughout its whole mass. Air bubbles begin to be sepa-
rated, and being entangled by the flocculent part of the li-
quid, occasion a frothy appearance on the surface. In the
meantime, the temperature gradually increases, and some-
times requires to be checked. The gas Avhich is disen-
gaged is found to consist chiefly of carbonic acid, mixed
occasionally with a portion of hydrogen. At length, the
extrication of air, and the intestine commotion with which
it is accompanied, gradually diminish, and the process ter-
minates by the liquor recovering its transparency. If the
fermented substance be now examined, it is found to have
exchanged its sweet taste for one of considerable pungency,
and to have acquired the property of acting as a powerful
stimulant on the animal system.

The vinous fermentation depending in a great measure
upon the separation of carbon, the process may be conduc-
ted without the aid of atmospheric air ; and, indeed, it has
been found by experiment, that, if the air be excluded,
while the gas disengaged by the fermentation is permitted
to make its escape, the vinous product is stronger than
when the process is carried on in open vessels. In that
case, however, as Chaptal remarks, the fermentation ad-
vances more slowly.

The products to which the vinous ferjnentation gives
birth, resemble one another by possessing an intoxicating
quality, and yielding, by distillation, a portion of alcohol ;
but they differ considerably in their strength, odour and
flavour. Their difterences, in these respects, are owing,
partly to the essential oils, and other proximate principles
which they derive from the substances submitted to the vi-
nous process, and partly to the manner of conducting the
fermentation. They may be considered as of two general
descriptions : Wines, properly so called, and the various
kinds of ale or beer.

Wines are obtained by subjecting to fermentation the
sweet juices of fruits, particularly that of the grape. The
products are extremely diversified, and vary in flavour and
appearance with the climate, soil, and the nature and cul-
ture of the vine, as well as with the manner of carrying on
the fermentative process. Hence wines are sweetish, and
weaker or stronger, according as the saccharine matter of
the grape is more or less abundant, and the fermentation
more or less complete ; and they are sharp and sparkling,
E

FERMENTATION.

■when part of the carbonic acul, which is generated cUiiing
the process, is retained. Astringent wines dei-ivc their pe-
culiar flavour from the astringent principle contained in the
grape from which they are formed. The colour is com-
municated by the external pellicle of the fruit, and might
easily be prevented, if necessary, by removing the husks,
before fermentation. Wines of every description contain a
certain portion of supcrtartrate of potash, which gradually
separates from them, when they are left undisturbed ; and
to this is owing, in a great degree, the improvement of
wines by age.

France produces a great variety of excellent wines. For
daily use, Foureroy prefers those of Burgundy, because all
their principles are duly combined, and none of them pre-
dominates, so as to communicate a peculiarity of flavour.
The wines of Orleans, after being matured by age, res'dm-
ble those of Burgundy. The red wines of Ciiampagne are
highl^ prized for their excellence and delicacy ; though,
in some cases, they possess a pungent and sourish taste,
from being bottled before the carbonic acid is sufficiently
disengaged by fermentation. The wines of Languedoc
and Guienne are greatly esteemed, on account of their
tonic qualities, particularly when they are mellowed by
age. Those of Anjou are strong, spirituous, and intoxi-
cating.

The Rhenish and Wosclle wines have a cool, sharp taste,
and readily intoxicate. Some Italian wines, such as those
of Orviette, Vicenza, and Lacryma Christi, are well fer-
mented, and resemble the French wines. Those of Spain
are in general boiled, sweet, and being but partially fer-
mented, cannot be reckoned wholesome. The wines of
Rota and Alicant must, however, be excepted, and are
justly considered as useful stomachics. The wines of Por-
tugal have been long in great demand in this country ; and,
indeed, no wine can be accounted superior to good old port.

The wines formed from other fruits, as currants, goose-
berries, apples, pears, &c. are greatly inferior to those ob-
tained from the grape. The juices of these fruits abound
too much with acid, and too little with saccharine matter,
to afford of themselves even tolerable wines ; and tliey
jnust, therefore, be improved by the addition of sugar, be-
fore fermentation. The wines from the juices of the apple
and pear, denominated cyder and /lerry, contain a large
portion of the acids of these fruits, and a considerable
ijuantity of carbonic acid : to the presence of the, latter is
owing their sharpness and sparkling property. Cherries
furnish a very pleasant wine ; apricots, peaches, and prunes,
afford wines of an indifferent quality.

The nutritive grains, and particularly barley, furnish a
fermented liquor of a vinous nature, called ale or beer.
The grain, after being converted hito malt, is first reduced
to a coarse powder in a mill, or bruised between rollers.
It is then infused in hot water, at the temperature of about
160° or 170°, and allowed to macerate for a few hours;
after which the liquor is drawn off", and a fresh quantity of
water is added. The infusion thus obtained, is denominat-
ed wort. Before being allowed to ferment, the wort is
boiled with some bitter vegetable substance, commonly
hops; partly with a view of correcting any ascescent ten-
dency, and partly of improving the flavour of the liquor.
To promote fermentation, a quantity of yeast is added to
the infusion, after it has been allowed to cool ; but the
process is usually checked before it has been completely
finished, and the liquor is then drawn off. When tlit ob-
ject of the fermentation is to obtain a wort for distillation,
part of the grain, as we formerly observed, is used in a
raw or unmalted state. The process, in that case, is con-
ducted more rapidly, and allowed to proceed to its utmost
extent. See Bkewing.

With respect to the theory of tlie chemical changes
upon which the vinous fermentation depends, we have still
no very precise knowledge. The subject was investigated
by Lavoisier; but though he was the first who gave any
thing like an accurate account of the piocess, the conclu-
sions which he deduced from his experiments, are by no
means free from objections. He dissolved a quantity of
pure sugar in water, and caused the solution to ferment by
the addition of yeast. The products were the carbonic
acid gas disengaged during the process, and the alcohol
remaining after its termination ; and having previously de-
termined sugar to be a compound of oxygen, hydrogen,
and carbon, he inferred, that as no portion of the water of
the fermenting liquor suffered decomposition, part of the
oxygen and carbon of the sugar must have united to form
carbonic acid, while the remaining part of these elements
combined with the hydrogen, and produced alcohol. In
this explanation, the operation of the yeast is entirely dis-
regarded ; and it seems to be taken for granted, that dur-
ing the fermentation that substance suff'ers no change
whatever, a circumstance which is by no means probable.

According toThenard, the yeast excites fermentation by
its carbon abstracting from the saccharine matter part of
its oxygen, and thus forming at least a portion of the car-
bonic acid disengaged during the process ; while the re-
maining elements of the sugar enter into combination with
the hydrogen and nitrogen of the ferment, and produce
the vinous liquor. From some experiments which he in-
stituted with the view of supporting this opinion, he found
that the nitrogen of the yeast disappeared during the fer-
mentation. He ascertained that it did not make its escape
along with the carbonic acid, and he therefore inferred, that
it must have entei'cd into composition with the vinous pro-
duct, though he did not succeed in delecting it by any
mode of analysis.

Seguin has proposed a theory of fermentation which dif-
fers considerably from that of Thenard. He is of opinion,
that during the process water suflTers decomposition ; and
that its oxygen combines with the carbonaceous part of the
yeast to form carbonic acid, while its hydrogen unites with
the saccharine matter, and produces the fermented liquor.
To this theory it may be objected, that, besides being liable
to the difficulty of accounting for the great quantity of car-
bonic acid extricated by referring it entirely to the carbon
of the ferment, a greater weight of alcohol ought to be
procured by fermentation than that of the sugar subjected
to the process ; which is contrary to experience, as little
more than half the quantity is obtained. To this it may
be ^dded, that alcohol contains less oxygen than sugar.
Upon the whole, the hypothesis of Seguin is perhaps less
probable than that of Thenard ; though in the present state
of our knowledge on this subject, it would be easy to sug-
gest various other theories of equal plausibility.

When the immediate products of the vinous fermenta-
tion are left exposed to the air, even at the ordinary tem-
peratures of the atmosphere, they undergo another change,
and are converted, by degrees, into an acid liquor. This
forms the second stage of the general process of fermen-
tation ; and is termed acetous, because it produces acetous
acid or vinegar. This species of fermentation commences
immediately after the vinous stage is completed; and more
especially if the fermentative principle has been used in
excess. Hence, after the termination of the latter, the fer-
mentation is usually stopped by decanting the clear wine
fiom the lees, clarifying it with isinglass, corking it up
carefully, and placing it in a cool situation, where it may
remain undisturbed. By these processes, tlie yeast, which
may still exist in excess in the vinous product, is almost
entirely removed, and thus the fermented liquor is not ex-

FER

FEU

posed to any decomposition from the reaction of its own
elements.

Tlie acetous fermentation is not conHned to the products
of the vinous stage; for it appears, that some substances
not susceptible of vinous fermentation, as fccula and mu-
cilage, have an ascesccnt tendency ; but the bodies which
have passed through that process, as wines, cider, beer,
&c. arc most susceptible of spontaneous acetification, and
the richest and most generous wines furnish the best and
strongest vinegar.

The vinous liquors do not readily undergo the acetous
fermentation without the assistance of some fermentative
principle; and hence, on converting wines into vinegar, a
quantity of that substance, in some form or other, is usu-
ally added. It is in this way that the lees of vinegar, and
casks impregnated with it, decide and promote acetifica-
tion.

The presence of air is no less necessary to the acetous
fermentation. Wines well corked in bottles, and grapes
properly closed up in casks, may be preserved a very long
time without suffering much change; but if the air be
imperfectly excluded, they are gradually rendered sour-
ish, and that, in a greater degree, the more freely the air
is admitted. Saussure states, that in this case the oxygen
of the air enters into combination with the carbon of the
vinous liquor, and abstracts that element from it in the form
of carbonic acid. It is probable, however, that a portion
of it also combines with the same substance, and contri-
butes to the production of the acetic acid which is formed.
The acetous fermentation goes on when the tempera-
ture is below 60°, but it is then slow ; and experience has
proved, that the process advances best when the tempera-
ture is between 70° and 75° of Fahrenheit's scale. In ma-
nufactories for making vinegar, the heat is kept up at this
pitch by artificial means, when the temperature of the air
is too low.

A slight agitation, repeated at intervals, is extremely fa-
vourable to acetification. For this reason, cellars which
are exposed to the continual shaking produced by any
powerful mechanical instrument, or to the tremulous mo-
tion excited by the frequent rolling of heavy carriages, are
very unfit for preserving vinous liquors. By the agitation
to which wine is in such cases exposed, the tartar, the lees,
the extractive principle, and all the other substances which
it deposits in a stale of rest, being kept suspended, operate
incessantly as so many ferments, and prevent the depura-
tion which might otherwise take place. Hence the ace-
tous fermentation is greatly promoted by frequently stir-
ring the liquor exposed to its action.

The general appearances whicli present themselves in
tlie acetous fermentation, differ but little from those in the
vinous. A tremulous movement pervades the whole mass;
but this is attended with a less copious disengagement of
carbonic acid than in the vinous stage of the process.
The temperature rises, and if the quantity of liquor be
consideratsle, sometimes reaches 90° of Fahrenheit's scale.
In the mean time a kind of filaments or streaks are moving
continually in the heart of the fermenting mass ; these di-
vide, reunite, and at last deposit themselves on the sides
and bottom of the vessel. When all these phenomena
have ceased, the liquor gradually recovers its transparency,
and is found to be converted into vinegar.

We shall now make a few observations on the theory of
the process, though on this head we can offer nothing very
precise or satisfactory. According to Lavoisier, the spi-
rituous part of the wine, which consists of carbon and hy-
drogen, is oxygenated and converted into vinegar. This
operation, he adds, can only take place with free access of
air, and is always attended with a diminution of the air em-

ployed, in consequence of the absorption of oxygen." This
explanation is too general to be satisfactory; and it does
not at all bring into view the action of the ferment. Chap-
tal has given a theory of the process, which is less excep-
tionable. " The hydrogen and the carbon, says he, exist
in alcohol, and in the extractive principle of vegetables;
but hydrogen predominates in the former, and carbon in
the latter; so that if we oxygenate tiiem separately, alco-
hol would furnish plenty of water, and very little acetic
acid. The extractive principle would furnish plenty of
carbonic acid, and a little acetic acid. But when the tw'o
principles are united, and they are oxygenated by any pro-
cess whatever, water and carbonic acid are then produced,
which bring the two principles into the proportions proper
for forming the acetic acid."

The vinous and acetous fermentation are confined to a
very few substances, chiefly of a saccharine nature : the
putrefactive stage embraces a wider field, and takes place
in almost every body of a vegetable or animal nature. The
vegetable matters which undergo putrefaction most rea-
dily, are soluble in water; though those which are but im-
perfectly soluble, if kept in a moist state, are not exempt-
ed from this species of decomposition. This process is
promoted by tiie same circumstances which are favourable
to the others, namely, moisture, and elevation of tempera-
ture. The presence of air, also, has no less influence on
the putrefactive, than on the acetous stage.

The cTastic fluids which are evolved from vegetables
during the putrefactive fermentation, are combinations of
the elements of the vegetable substance, and have for their
bases hydrogen and carbon. Wiien the decomposition
takes place under water, the hydrogen, by its greater ten-
dency to elasticity, makes its escape, and the residual mat-
ter consists almost entirely of carbon. Hence wood, which
has been long buried in the beds of rivers, is reduced near-
ly to the state of charcoal. If the carbonaceous part, how-
ever, be exposed to the air, it undergoes a gradual change,
and is at last entirely decomposed, by being converted into
carbonic acid.

When animal matters suffer putrefaction, they evolve,
besides the usual elements of vegetables, a quantity of
ammonia. They yield also certain other products which
are more peculiar to tliem, particularly combinations of
sulphur and phosphorus; and to these substances must
be ascribed, the fetid odour and noxious properties of the
gases, which are extricated from them during putrefac-
tion.

Animal bodies scarcely suffer any change when they are
well dried, and completely excluded from the air. Even
in the warmer climates, beef, which has been efi'ectually
freed from its juices, may be preserved a long time with-
out salt; and meat, which has been sufficiently roasted,
and afterwards covered with melted suet, may be preserv-
ed in that state perfectly untainted for several months.
Animals enveloped in ice, have been preserved for ages
without suffering any change. It appears, also, that ani-
mal bodies powerfully resist putrefaction, which have been
buried in morasses of peat; probably because, in such
places, the caibonaceous part of the woody matter being
converted into a substance resembling tan, produces upon
the animal matter the usual eflects of that vegetable pro-
duct. See Chaptal's Chemistry, vol. iv. p. 510 ; Murray's
Chemistrij, vol. iv. p. 387 ; Fourcroy's Chemistry, vol. ii.
p. 302. CO

FERMOY is a handsome and flourishing^ market-town
of Ireland, in the county of Cork. It is situated upon the
river Blackwater, over which there is a good bridge. The
town is regularly built, and contains several elegant pub-
lic buildings, viz. a handsome church, a large school house,

E 2

FEU

FER

a market house, a sessions house which serves both for a
theatre and an assembly rooin, a large barrack capable of
aceoniniodaling two regiments of iiil'aiury, -and another for
cavalry on the opposite side of the river. There are here
two good inns, an extensive porter biewcry, a flour mill,
a woollen manufactory, and a bank. About thirty years
ago, this place was a miserable village, and it has been
brought into its present state by John Anderson, Esq. a
wealthy and public-spirited individual, to whom Ireland
owes many other obligations. Land in the neighbourhood
lets at from 3^ to 5 guineas jier acre. Distance from Dub-
lin 107 Irish miles, and from Cork 17 miles. (_/)

FERNS. See Fii.ices.

FERNANDEZ, or Juan Fernandez, is the name of
two islands in the Pacific Ocean, opposite to the western
eoast of South America, and about 32 leagues distant from
each other. One of them, as lying farther oiV towards the
west, is distinguished by the epitlict De Afucra ; and the
other, as being nearer the larid, is called De Tierra. It is
to the latter, that the name of Juan Fernandez properly ap-
plies, an appellation which it is supposed to have received
from a Spaniard of that name, who resided upon it for
some time, and afterwards removed to the continent. It
is situated in 33° 40' S. Lat. and 79° W. Long. 1 10 leagues
west from the coast of Chili; and about 440 to the north
of Cape Horn. It is of an irregular form, and is surround-
ed by a very steep shore, about five leagues in length from
north-west to south-east, and only two in breadth. There
are three harbours and bays in the island ; but two of these,
one on the west and another on the east side, are very
much exposed, and have only about fourteen fathoms of
water. The third, which is the largest, and is called Cum-
berland Bay, lies on the north-east coast; but the depth of
the water, which is forty or fifty fathoms within half a ca-
ble's length of the shore, the badness of the ground, which
is a tenacious mud, mixed with shells and gravel, and the
want of protection from the north-east winds, render the
anchorage extremely dangerous. The only security, though
not always suflicient, is to sail up to the farthest part of
the bay, and to moor with one anchor in the water, and
another on the south-west shore. At a distance, the whole
island appears like one entire rock, and is for the most
part very high land. In the northern quarter, the moun-
tains are very lofty, steep, rugged, and almost inaccessi-
ble ; but it slopes away towards the south point, where a
remarkable islet, or large detached rock, appears about
half a mile from the main land. Upon approaching the
coast, very deep and romantic vallies are perceived, inter-
secting the most mountainous districts, shaded with dif-
ferent kinds of trees, and covered with the richest verdure.
The air is generally mild and serene. The heat of sum-
mer is moderate; the winter, which is never severe, lasts
only during the months of June and July; and there is lit-
tle thunder or tempestuous weather at any season. Fresh
water is not very abundant, but several streams fall from
the higher grounds, the water of which is said to be re-
markably light, useful for creating an appetite, and among
other medicinal qualities, very efficacious in removing in-
digestion. Copious dews at night, supply the want of rain,
and preserve the trees and herbage in continual verdure.
The land in the vallies, and on the acclivities of the lower
hills, is a black fertile mould, capable by cultivation of
producing grain and roots in abundance; but, towards the
south-west, where the country is low and flat, the soil is
loose, dry, and stony. The vallies and northern sides of
the mountains are covered with trees; but the piercing
violence of the south winds prevents their growth on the
declivities in that direction. These trees are of various
sorts, but chiefly aromatics, and many of them afford ex-

cellent timber. The myrtles are said to be the largest,
and to be capable of yielding planks 40 feel in length. The
pimento and the cabbage tree are found in some places,
but none of the American fruit trees, wnich grow natural-
ly in the forests. Every part of the island is covered with
a sort of grass or straw, like the stalk of oats, which grows
to the height of a man; and there is a great variety of es-
culent vegetables, especially antiscorbutics, such as pur-
slane, water cresses, wild sorrel, turnips, and Swedish ra-
dishes.

The whole coasts of the island swarm with sea-wolves,
or sea-lions, as the largest are sometimes called, on ac-
count of their having a mane on their necks. By the
Spaniards they are commonly named Lobes de jiceyte,
or oil-wolves; because the vast quantity of fat or blub-
ber of which their enormous body consists, makes them
appear, when they move, like a skin full of oil. Vast
shoals of fish also frequent the shores, particularly cod
of a large size, very similar to that of Newfoundland;
and the finest lobsters, often half a yard in length, may
be taken in great abundance. The only quadrupeds
found on the island are goals, the original breed of wiiich
had been set on shore by Juan Fernandez, and soon be-
came so numerous, as to furnish an excellent supply of
provisions to the navigators of these seas. This and other
advantages, which the island afforded for refilling, victual-
ling, wooding, and watering, rendered it the principal re-
sort of the Buccaneers, and olher cruizers in those quar-
ters; and, in order to deprive them of the supplies which
it aflbrded, the Spanish government sent a number of dogs,
particularly greyhounds, for the purpose of exterminating .
the goals. Great numbers still remain in the steep places
of the mountains, where the dogs are unable to pursue
them; but where they are equally inaccessible to the pi-
rates or the privateers. It has been observed of these
dogs, that they never bark till they are brought together
with others of their species; when they begin to imitate
them in a strange manner, as if learning a new acquire-
ment. No venomous creatures, or beasts of prey, or any
other quadruped except these goats and dogs, have been
observed on the island.

On this island Alexander Selkirk resided from the year
1705 to 1709; and from his history, Daniel Defoe is'un-
derstood to have composed the interesting adventures of
Robinson Crusoe. In this place also, in 1741, Lord Anson
recruited the health of his crew, when they were so de-
bilitated by the scurvy, and exhausted by the storms which
they had encountered, as to be scarcely able to muster
strength sufficient to heave the anchor. In 1766, the
Spaniards formed a settlement, and established a garrison
on the island. In the year following. Captain Cartei'et,
in the course of his voyage round the world, attempted to
enter Cumberland-bay, and was surprised to find it in the
possession of the Spaniards. He neither anchored, nor
had any communication with the shore; but was able to
observe a number of men upon the beach, a house, and
four pieces of cannon near the water side, a fort upon a
rising ground about 300 yards farther from the sea, faced
with stone, provided with 18 or 20 embrazures, with the
Spanish colours flying on the top of it. There were 20 or
30 houses of diflerent kinds scattered around it, a number
of cattle feeding on the brow of the hills, and several
spots enclosed for cultivation. Since that period no ac-
counts respecting this settlement were laid before the
public, as all access to its shores was invariably denied
to strangers. But in 1792, Lieutenant John Moss of the
royal navy, then commandmg the ship William, employ-
ed on the southern whale and seal fishery, visited both the
islands of Fernandez ; and from his MS. the following

FERNANDEZ.

notices were first published In Xhe Jt/icnaum for 1807.
He was not aware of its havint; been occupied by the
Spaniards, and went in his boat to look for a sale aiiclio-
rage and to catch fish. Upon finding tlie place inhabited,
he landed, and applied to the governor for leave to anchor
and fish. Neither of his retiucsts was formally granted;
but getting into a position wliere none of the guns could
bcjr on tlie boat, lie caught as many fish as served tlie
whole sliip's company. Several months afterwards, how-
ever, touching a second time at Juan Fernandez, he ob-
tained from the governor, Don Juan Calvo de la Canteza,
free permission to supply the wants of his crew. The town,
or village, is pleasantly situated in a fine valley between
two high hills. A battery of five guns is placed round tlie
west point of the harbour, and commands the road. It is
built entirely of loose stones, ])iled up breast high, and
formed into embrazurcs ; but on the left of the valley, on
a little eminence, anoiher battery was then constructing
of masonry, which had two faces with fourteen embra-
zurcs in each, one face pointing to the anchorage, and
the other flanking the village. Two small guns also have
been conveyed by a serpentine path to the top of the west-
ern hill. The whole force on the island, however, accord-
ing to the report of the commandant, consisted only of
six soldiers, and foity of the settlers armed and trained.
There are about forty houses in the town, and several
others in different parts of the island. Every house has
a garden, with arbours of grape vines ; and figs, cherries,
plumbs, and almonds, appeared in a green state. There
was abundance also of potatoes, cabbages, onions, thyme,
and other vegetables; but none of them in perfection, as
a kind of grub is said, in a great measure, to destroy the
kitchen gardens. Great numbers of goats were seen on
the sides of every hill. The dress of the women is of a
singular description, and was stated by the governor to be
the same as that of the ladies of Chili and Peru. They
wear a petticoat which reaches only a little below the
knee, and which is spread out by a hoop at the bottom to
a great distance round them, leaving the legs entirely ex-
posed, which are, however, covered by drawers. They
wear long hair, plaited into forty or fifty small braids,
hanging straight down the back. In every house that
Captain Moss entered, the women presented him with
mate, the infusion of the herb of Paragua, which is suck-
ed up through a pipe or tube, handed from one person to
another. The women were, in general, handsome, and
every house swarmed with children. Thus there was a
prospect of the colony increasing rapidly in population ;
but it was lately stated in some of the public prints, that
the Spaniards had withdrawn the whole of the garrison
and settlers; so that Juan Fernandez, with all- its advanta-
ges, fjs probably again abandoned to its original uninhabit-
ed and uncultivated state. (17)

FERNANDEZ de Afuera, lies in 33° 4!' South
Latitude, and 81° 40' West Longitude; and as both
islands are situated so directly in the same latitude, stran-
gers are apt to mistake the one for the other; but they
may be easily distinguished by the obvious circumstance
of the land in De Afueia being highest towards the south,
while the more elevated part of De Tierra is towards the
north ; and at the south point also of the latter is a large
rock, or islet, about half a mile from the island. Fernan-
dez de Afuera is generally named Masafuero Liy the Eng-
lish navigators, wiiich is probably nothing more than a
corruption of the Spanish appellation Mas-afucra, wiiich
expresses its being more remote than the oilier from the
American continent. It is very high and mountainous,
appearing at a distance like one hill or rock, and in clear
weather may be seen from Fernandez de Tierra. It is of

a triangular form, and about eight leagues in circumfer-
ence. Its clifTs on the south end are almost perpendicular
from the sea ; but on tlie opposite side, though the land is
likewise very elevated, is a fine low green point stretch-
ing northward from the bottom of the cliff, and forming
a perfect level, fully a mile and a half in length. In the
account of Lord Anson's voyage, there is said to be no
pro))er anchorage except on the north side, in deep water;
but Commodore Byron found good anchorage on the cast
side towards the south point, in tv/enty fathoms, within two
cables length of the shore. Captain Carteret also says,
tliat he saw no part where there was not anchorage ; that
on the western side particularly, there is anchorage about
a mile from the shore in twenty fathom, and about two
miles and a half in forty fathom, with a fine black sand at
the bottom ; and mentions a remarkable rock with a hole
in it, on the south-west point, as a good mark for anchor-
ing on that side. Captain Moss, however, affirms that in
no part is there good anchorage; that in places where an
anchor may be let go, there is foul ground; and that no-
thing but great distress can warrant anchoring on the coast
of this island. All the navigators who have visited it, con-
cur in their descriptions of the extreme difficulty of land-
ing, on account of the high surf, which breaks upon large
fragments of rocks all round the island, so that a boat
cannot safely come within a cable's length of the shore.
The only mode of landing is by swimming from the boat,
and then mooring her without the rocks; and Commodore
Byron, in order to protect his men from being bruised by
the rocks, as well as to assist them in swimming, pro-
vided them with cork jackets. Neither is there any other
way of getting off the wood and water casks, but by haul-
ing them to the boat wi'.h ropes; and even this is some-
times found to be impracticable. When three of Captaia
Carteret's crew had swam ashore for the purpose of pro-
curing water, the surf rose so high that they could not re-
turn to the boat, and were left all night in a state of com-
plete nakedness on the island during a violent storm of rain,
thunder, and lightning. In order to protect themselves
from the cold, they lay ujion one another, each man pla-
cing himself alternately between the other two; and next
day, by travelling along the shore, and occasionally swim-
ming around the steep points, reached with difficulty the
tent of their shipmates in another part of the island. In
addition to these dangers, the men, in swimming ashore,
are exposed to attacks from enormous sharks of the most
r;ivenoLis kind, which were observed by Byron's crew to
dart into the very surf after the swimmers. The boats of
Captain Moss were staved in one of his attempts to land ;
and he advises the ships which go there for seals, to have
a strong built boat for the purpose of anchoring behind the
surf. lie found only one place, which he named Enderby's
Cove, where a boat could be hauled up in a small inlet on
the east side ; but that only when tlie wind is from south-
west to north-north-west. "There are many places, how-
ever," Captain Carteret observes, " where it would be very
easy to make a commodious landing, by building a wharf,
which it would be worth while even for a single ship to
do, if she was to continue any time at the island." It af-
fords all the requisite refreshments for voyagers, especially
in the summer season ; and would be a very desirable
place to touch at, were the landing rendered more easy.
There is plenty of wood and water all round the island;
but the cast side has the most pleasant aspect, shewing
numerous vallies covercti with trees, rich in verdure, and
abounding in flowers of the lily and violet kinds. Down
every valley runs a copious stream of water, which ex-
pands in its descent among the rocks into several succes-
sive reservoirs; but the seals go far up into these valliesj

FER

FEU

and tlic water has a bad laste, unless taken above the
places wliich they iicquent. These animals arc so nu-
merous on this island, that they literally cover the shores ;
and Captain IMoss's crew took 2100 of them in a few days.
There are various kinds of iish also, particularly cod, hali-
but, coal-fish, and cray-fish, in such abundance, that in two
hours a single boat with hooks and lines might take suf-
ficient to se'rve a large ship's company for two days. They
arc all excellent in their kind, and many of them weigh
from twenty to thirty pounds. There are many goats in
the place, which arc not difTicult to be caught, and which
Byron compares to the best venison in England. Among
the birds were observed, particularly, various kinds of
hawks, some very large, and others as small as a gold-
finch ; and the pintado birds were so numerous, that in
one night during a gale, Carteret's people caught not less
than seven hundred, which flew straight into the fire which
they had kindled on shore. Among the vegetables, the
mountain cabbage was particularly noticed ; and the trees
consisted principally of red cedar, and a hard yellow wood
like box. See Byron's Voyage romid the World ; Carteret's
Voyage round the World ; UUoa's Voyage to South America,
vol. ii. p. 219; and Extracts from Captain Moss's MS.
first published in the Atheneum, vol. i. p. 581. (y)

FERNANDO de Norona, is the name of an island in
the Atlantic, about 60 or 80 leagues from the coast of
Brazil. It is no where above two leagues in extent. Its
surface is unequal and mountainous; and in the middle of
the island is a mountain called Camfianario, or the Belfry,
from the resemblance of its summit to a church tower.

The island is, in general, very fertile, notwithstanding
the reports of its sterility so industriously propagated by
the Portuguese. It produces every species of grain and
fruits common in hot climates; but, for the want of mois-
ture, the crops are often destroyed. T%vo or three years
often pass without rain, and excepting in some books, not
a drop of water is to be found in the island. When Ulloa
visited the island, they had had no rain for two years, but
violent showers came on upon the 19th of May. The in-
habitants save the water in pots resembling cisterns.

There is in the inland part of the island a Portuguese
town, in which reside a governor and the parish priest.

When the Portuguese had compelled the French East
India Company to evacuate this island, they erected seven
elegant forts, in order to defend it. Three of these defend
the north harbour, two the north-west, and two the eastern
part of the island, where there is a small bay fit only for
barks. The forts are ail built of stone, are spacious, and
are well garrisoned and provided with large artillery.
Fort Remedies alone contained 1000 men, partly regulars,
sent from Fernambuco, who are relieved every six months,
and partly convicts from the opposite coast of Brazil.

The principal fort, called Fort Remedios, stands on a
high steep rock washed by the sea, at the foot of which is
a cavern, where vast quantities of water are continually
pouring in without any perceptible outlet. " In this place,
dreadful eructations of the wind are heard at short inter-
vals, which being compressed, struggles for a vent against
the torrent of the water, and by filling the whole mouth
of the cave in its ascent, leaves a large vacuity after its
discharge, which is done with a noise resembling that of a
volcano ; but neither on the opposite side of the island, nor
throughout its whole circuit, is there any place or mark,
Avhich affords the least room for conjecture with regard to
the other mouths of this cavern, so that it is supposed to
be at a great distance from it in the sea."

There are two harbours capable of receiving ships of
the greatest burden, one on the north, and another on the
north-west side of the island. The first is the best, both

for shelter, capacity, and the goodness of its bottom. Both
the harbours are exposed to the north and west, and when
these winds prevail they are both impracticable, the si'.ips
being in danger, and all communication with the shoie
totally precluded by the agitation and violence of the sur-
face. Even in easterly winds it is dangerous to attempt a
landing.

The harbours or roads abound in fish of five or six dif-
ferent species, among which are lampreys and morenas of
an enormous size. Between the months of December and
April, when the turtles lay their eggs, the shores of the
whole island arc covered with them : they then retire into
the sea, and disappear.

The inhabitants of all ranks subsist chiefly upon the
Farina di pari, or wood meal, obtained from the roots call-
ed Moniato, Nane, and Yuca. It is little more than saw
dust, both with regard to taste and smell. The position of
the island, according to solar observations, is North Lat.
3° 56' 20", and West Long. 32° 37' 45". See Ulloa's Voyage
to South America, book ix. chap. iii. and Cook's Second
Voyage. (71;)
FEROE Isles. See Faroe.

FERRARA, a duchy situated in the eastern part of
Upper Italy, and part of the pontifical domains. This
territory is nearly of a triangular shape ; one side stretches
25 miles along the shores of the Adriatic on the east,
another about 58 miles to the north, and the third runs
about 67 miles to the west and south, where it is bounded
by the duchies of Mantua, Mirandola, and Modena, as
also the provinces of Bologna and Romagna ; and else-
where by the Venetian states. The surface is in general
level eastward from the river Po, which is here navigable,
and divides in two branches, called Po di Volano, and Po
di Primaro, both flowing into the Adriatic, and each having
a harbour at its mouth. Besides these, it is fertilized by
the streams Panaro, Reno, Tartaro, and numerous artificial
canals. Only one of the preceding harbours belongs to
Ferrara ; the other is a subject of frequent controversy
between it and the neighhburing territories.

This duchy contains three cities ; Ferrara, the capital,
which we shall afterwards describe more particularly;
Commacchio, and Cento. Commacchio occupies a situa-
tion in the midst of a considerable extent of low marshy
ground, called the Commacchian Marshes, defended by a
high alluvial bulwark from the sea, but penetrated by a
canal, at the extremity of which is Porta Magnavacca.
These marshes are not less than between 70 and 80 miles
in circuit, and communicate with a salt lagoon, celebrated
for the quality of its fishes. Cento is surrounded by an
earthen rampart and ditch. It was the place of the nativity
of Guercino, a famous painter. Besides these cities, there
are 18 towns with their own peculiar and exclusive j^i'is-
diction, and 162 parochial villages. We are not acquaint-
ed with any recent census, but, 30 years ago, the total
population of the Ferrarese territory amounted to 235,234
souls.

*!i'he principal products of this duchy consist in grain,
fruit, and wine ; abundance of flax and hemp; some silk
and wool ; and it is said that horses and cattle are here of
the best description. But there is no conspicuous activity
in carrying on agricultural operations,' nor any demonstea-
tions of commercial enterprize. In common with the othCT
territories of an ecclesiastical government, the people arc
passive and languid in their undertakings. Revenues,
nevertheless, arise from imports and exports ; from the
fisheries of Commacchio, which are very profitable; from
salt-works, and other sources. There cannot be much
trade in a territory of such extent, when an annual fair, in
a town called Luga, is considered as a remarkable event.

FERRARA.

Fcrrara being part of the papal domain, is governed by
a cardinal, who is sent to the chief city every three years
as legate a latere ; and there is at the same time appointed
a dignified prelate, with the title of vice-legate, who rnles
in his absence. Tlie detail of civil and criminal matters,
is committed to tlie cognizance of certain judges appoint-
ed by the Pope ; and there is besides a senate, or grand
council of 100 persons, chosen from the nobles, merchants,
and citizens, renewed every three years ; from wliich ten
persons of each order are selected, to constitute an annual
magistracy. In respect to its ecclesiastical state, the
duchy is divided into nine dioceses, at the head of which
is an archbishop, generally a cardinal, endowed with ample
revenues, and possessing a jurisdiction over 135 parishes.
There are sixty monasteries of different orders, containing
1350 monks and priests; ten convents, containing about
620 nuns ; and three hospitals, in which SO boys are main-
tained, but it does not appear whether these are of a re-
ligious or a civil institution.

The duchy of Ferrara is said to have been recognised
very anciently as an important territory. It was a sovereign
and independent state under the dominion of its own dukes,
of the family of Este, who began to govern in the year
1205, and subsisted several centuries. On the death of
Alphonso the Second, in October 1597, Pope Clement
VIII. declared the duchy had devolved to the papal see,
and he took possession of it in person. Along with the
other Italian provinces, it became implicated in the con-
sequences of the French revolution. It was ceded by the
Roman pontiff in 1797 to the government of France, and
by it constituted the department of the Lower Po ; but
by the recent restitution of the Pope, it has again be-
come an integral part of the territories of the apostolic
chamber, (c)

FERRARA, a city of Italy, the capital of the duchy of
Ferrara, situated on the north bank of the river Po, which
here divides into two branches, called Po di Volano and
Po di Primaro, both flowing to the east. This city is sur-
rounded by a fortified wall and broad ditch, which may be
filled with water by means of a canal from the river.
There are five gates, called the gate of St Benedict, St
Paul, St George, St John the Baptist, and the gate of the
Angels ; and at the south-west extremity there is a regular
fortress. Within the walls are some gardens, which en-
large the dimensions ascribed to the city. There are
several squares, and the streets are tolerably wide and con-
venient. The suburbs of St Luke and St George are with-
out the walls, on the opposite side of the river, which is
crossed by bridges near two of the gates.

The principal objects in the city of Ferrara, are churches,
convents, a few edifices for public purposes not ecclesias-
tical, and those belonging to private individuals ; but of the
first there is a very great superiority with regard to num-
bers. The metropolitan church, dedicated to St George,
the tutelar saint of the city, occupies one side of the Piazza
di San Crispino, the principal square. The antiquity of
this edifice remounts to tlie year 1135, when it was com-
pleted and consecrated, and exhibits a specimen of the bad
taste which pervaded the architecture of that period, in-
termixed with subsequent alterations. It contains many
monum^its, inscriptions, and statues. Among the last,
are five in bronze as large as life, ornamenting an altar,
representing the crucifixion, the Virgin Mary, and other
sanctified persons. There are several of fine Carrara
marble, of which one of the most conspicuous, and as large
as life, was erected by the citizens of Ferrara, in honour
of Albert their sovereign lord, in 1393, who had repaired
to tha Pope with a great cavalcade, and obtained two im-
portant bulls, sanctioning the erection of a university, and

certain privileges regarding succession to property. Pope
Urban III. having died in Ferrara in the year 1187, was
interred here, and his successor Gregory VIII. elected in
the church. The arcliitecture of the tower, which was
built in I-112, and consists of marble, is mucli celebrated.

About the year 1506, a spacious edifice, the church of
St Benedict, was built by two native architects, towards
the western part of the city, to whicli a monastery adjoins.
Here are deposited the remains of the famous Italian poet
Ariosto, in a marble mausoleum, executed by Nano, a
Mantuan sculptor, with two inscriptions, one of which was
composed by Guarini. This monument has attracted the
notice of crowned heads in their visits to Italy, while the
ashes of philosophers have reposed in neglected obscurity.
Ariosto was a native of Fcrrara, and his house is still
shown as a curiosity to strangers. It bears two inscrip-
tions, composed by himself and his natural son, a literary
ecclesiastic : The former is in these words, Parva, sed
apta mihi, sed nulli obnoxia, sed non sordida, fiarta meo sed
tamen acre domus, certainly neither very elegant nor poeti-
cal; the latter is. Sic domus hcec .dreosla jirofiitios habcat
deos olim ut Pindarica. The house was built by him, and
he died there on the sixth of June 1533. In the monastery
ai nxed to the church of St Benedict, are preserved some
i. iportant archives.

A church dedicated to St Francis was founded at an
early period of the Ferrarese history, and after being fre-
quently renewed and altered, was at last completed in the
year 1495. This edifice is also rich in pictures and statues,
and presents several beautiful sculptures of different des-
criptions. It is besides remarkable for an echo which
father Lana, in his work Magisterium A''alurcs el Artis,
considers one of the most wonderful phenomena extant.
The voice of a person standing in a particular position,
near the main entrance, is repeated 15 or 16 times dis-
tinctly, and afterwards more faintly, for some intervals,
until totally lost. The repetitions are so numerous, how-
ever, that, to avoid confusion, only a single syllable must
be expressed, in order that the echo may be heard in per-
fection.

The church of St Dominic, a spacious modern edifice,
with a monastery of Dominican monks connected w-ith it,
stands towards the south-west part of the city. It was
founded in the year 1710, and completed in 1726, but the
Dominicans had an establishment as early as 1235. Like
the former, the church has many pictures; and Celio Cal-
cagnini, a celebrated scholar of Ferrara, bequeathed a
valuable library to the convent, in the 16th century.

Besides these religious edifices, there are many more
in this city worthy of attention : the total number of
churches and chapels amounts to 60 or 70, independent of
convents for monks and nuns. The inquisition has also a
tribunal here; and the archbishop a palace adjacent to the
metropolitan church. It is a modern building, commenced
in 1718 ; it has some statues, and a staircase which is much
admired.

Not far from the last of these buildings stands a great
square edifice, with towers at each angle, ornamented by
a balustrade, which is called the castle, and is occupied
by the cardinal legate. This was originally designed as
a place of security, and erected by one of the lords of Fer-
rara, after quelling a popular tumult. A military guard is
mounted here, and the grand council assembles in a large
hall devoted to that purpose.

There are two foundling hospitals for male and female
children, one for orphans, and a poor's house for mendi-
cants ; also different public buildings for the administration
of justice, one of which, called the palace of reason, wus
erected in the year 1326. The theatre is a modern struc

FEU

FER

tvire of Ionic architecture, erected in 178G, by Joseph
Campana, a rciraicsc.

Pope Clement VIII. after takiii!? possession of the
duchy, resolved to build a fort, inclucling a large portion
of the city, and several churches ; hut llie present struc-
ture, which is of a penta,;;onal form, was founded only in
the year 160S. It is enlercil by a fine marble gateway,
erected in 1630, and there is a colossal statue of Pope
Paul V. in marble, under whose pontificate the fortress
was completed. A small garrison was lately kept in it.

Ferrara is said to have been distinguished by its literati
at a very ancient period, and we have already remarked
that the foundation of a university was authorised in 1391.
The seminary which now appears, however, is of more
modern date, having either been huilt or altered in 1610.
It is rather a plain structure witli a handsome gateway,
surmounted by a tower and cupola, and stands towards
the south part of the city. To judge by the extent of the
literary establishment, this should be a favoured place for
study, but we believe that although famous of old, it has
now lost much of its celebrity. The whole consists of 22
chairs, embracing the principal branches of science, an
iiualomical theatre, a school for the fine arts, a museum of
antiquities, and a botanical garden. In sculptures, cameos,
coins, inscriptions, and mosaic work, the collection is said
to be considerable ; but it has most probably shared in the
dilapidations which have lately diminished the curiosities
of Italy.

The library of the university is of more recent institu-
tion, having been commenced by the purchase of that of
Cardinal Bentivoglio, in ir43. The library of the college
of the Jesuits was added some time after, and it was open-
ed for public use in 1750. Here there is a collection of
•writings of nearly 500 Ferrarese literati, contained in 1300
volumes. Among the manuscripts are some of Ariosto's
poems, written in his own hand. The library possesses
13,000 drawings and engravings, several subjects in natu-
ral history, and models in clay.

Many celebrated characters owe their birth to Ferrara,
famed for poetry, history, science, and the arts ; but at this
day the city does not enjoy its ancient reputation ; and the
successive changes of government have contributed to les-
sen the confidence of the inhabitants.

We are not aware of any accurate census later than one
made in 1784, when the population amounted to 31,253.
Its position, according to the trigonometrical observations
of Boscovich, is East Long. 11° 36' 25", and North Lat.
44° 49' 56". Ste Savdi Jiistorie Ferrarese. Bonon'iDe situ,
atjuis et acre Ferrarii£. Baiotti Alemorie istoriche de lette-
rati Ferrarese. Compendio istorico detle Cliiese di Ferrara.
Frizzi, Guida del Forastieri per la Citta di Ferrara. (c)

FERRO, or Hierro, the name of the most westerly of
the Canary Isles, is about 15 miles broad, and 45 in cir-
cuit. The coast is very precipitous and difficult of ascent,
but the summit is level and fertile. Ferro was formerly
the meridian from which the English and French reckoned
their longitude. Its longitude according to the most cor-
rect astronomical observation, is 1 7° 9' 46", and North La-
titude 27° 47' 0". For a full account of the history and
statistics of this and the other islands, see Canary
Isles. 0)

FERROL is one of the best sea-port towns of Spain, in
the province of Gaiicia. It is situated to the north-north-
east of Corunna, and ten leagues from Cape Ortegal. Be-
fore 1752, Ferrol was merely a fishing village, but a large
town containing many elegant public buildings, has been
erected on a regular plan. The school for midshipmen is
a magnificent edifice. The arsenal is deemed the hand-
somest in the kingdomj and there is an extensive rope-

walk, and a machine for hammering the copper for sheath-
ing vessels. There are also two liospiials, one for the inhabi-
tants, and another for the navy and army. The harbour is
extremely safe, and is on all sides i)rotccted from winds.
Its position is very strong, being sunounded with redoubts,
mounting five cannon on each front, and four on each side,
and llie whole is connected with an inlrcnchnient, and a
parapet which mask the interior works. All ships that go
from the harbour into the sea must, for the distance of a
league, file olT one by one, and pass along ashore defended
by forts, and which in case of need, may be obstructed with
piles, while, on the land side, it may be easily defended in
the event of a disembarkation. It would be almost impos-
sible to besiege the town regularly. Trenches could not
be opened on account of the nature of the soil, and it would
be equally difficult to force the entrance of the harbour, as
it is lined with strong batteries, the mole itself being well
provided with heavy artillery. Tlie basin for the fleet is
very large. Every ship has a separate warehouse, where
all its tackle, kc. is marked and deposited. All the work
in the harbour is carried on by 600 galley slaves, who
compose the presidario. The approach to the coast be-
tween Corunna and Ferrol is defended by two castles, viz.
that of St Philip and Palma. No expence, indeed, has
been spared by the Spanish government to render Ferrol one
of the most complete naval establishments in the world.
There is here a militaiy commandant, a governor, an in-
tendant, and a numerous staff". All foreign ships are ex-
cluded from Ferrol, only coasting vessels and Spanish ships
which bring articles of necessity being admitted. Sea and
river fish are caught in abundance ; and in the vicinity of
the town there are numerous fountains of excellent water.
Ferrol contains but one manufactory, which is for sail-
cloth.

The town contains only one parish, and a convent of the
Seraphic order. The population is about 8000, excepting
in time of war, when it exceeds this number considerably.
The position of Ferrol, according to the most accurate si-
dereal observations, is in West Long. 8° 1 5', and North
Lat. 43° 29'. See Laborde's Vieiv of Spain, vol. ii. p.
441. (:r)

FEU, or Fee, {feudiim or feodum, Tt. JieJ^, a word of
uncertain derivation, sometimes denotes an estate held by
feudal tenure, but is more properly used to denote the
right resulting to the vassal from the feudal contract. In
this latter acceptation it may be defined a gratuitous right
to the property of lands, under the condition of fealty and
military service to be performed to the superior, who
grants the right, by the vassal, who obtains it. The inter-
est which the superior retains to himself, or rather the law
reserves for him, in all feudal grants, is called dominium
directum, because it is the highest and most eminent right ;
that which the vassal acquires goes under the name of do-
Illinium utile, being subordinate to the other, and the most
profitable of the two, since the vassel enjoys the whole fruits
of the subject.

Although, from the nature of the feudal constitution,
feus were originally granted solely in consideration of mi-
litary services, yet services of a mere civil or religious
nature were early substituted in their room, at the pleasure
of the superior. And in the course of time, the,spirit of
the original system was so far left out of view, that servi-
ces of all kinds were entirely dispensed with in some feu-
dal tenures ; but, in such cases, the vassal, who is exemp-
ted from services, must be liable in the payment either of
a yearly sum of money, or a quantity of grain, or some-
thing else, however inconsiderable, merely as an acknow-
ledgment of the superior's tight.

Fees have been divided, with reference to the sources

FEU

FEZ

from which they flow, into feuda ligia and non ligia. A
liege-fee is that granted by a sovereign, to whom the vas-
sal owes absolute fidelity, without exception. Feuda nan
ligiui on the other hand, are those derived from subjects
superiors, in which a reservation is always implied with
respect to the fealty or allegiance which is due to the high-
est or liege lord. By the written feudal usages, feus are
divided into antigua and nova. The former are such as
come by succession; the latter such as are acquired by
gift, purchase, or other singular title.

Some things are considered as essential to the constitu-
tion of a feu ; some are natural to it, and others only acci-
dental. No feu can subsist without its essential characters ;
and, upon the least alteration made in these, the right
must resolve into one of another kind. Such essential re-
quisites are the reservation of the right of superiority, and
the acknowledgment of this right on the part of the vassal,
by some service or payment. By the 7iaturalia feudi, is un-
derstood whatever arises from the nature of the contract,
and is therefore deemed part of it, although not expressly
provided. These, however, may receive an alteration from
the will of the parties, without destroying the feudal con-
tract. The accidentalia feudi depend entirely on the con-
vention of parties, and are never presumed, but must be
the subject of express stipulation. See the Conauetudines
Feudorum ; the books of Regiam Magistratem ; Craig, De
Feudis ; Erskine's Inst, of the La-.v of Scotland, h. ii.
t.3. (z)

FEUDAL, is a term used to denote that system of legal
polity, in regard to tenures of land, which was generally
introduced, at an early period, among the states of modern
Europe.

The origin of the feudal system is involved in consider-
able obscurity. Some writers pretend to have discovered
traces of it among the Romans ; while others have attemp-
ted to deduce its origin from the usages of the ancient
Germans and Gauls. But in referring to the early history
of Europe, we shall be enabled to trace it, in a more na-
tural and satisfactory manner, to the policy of those migra-
fory German nations, who overrun the provinces of the
Roman empire, and established themselves in the conquer-
ed territory. Among these, the Longobards, or Lombards,
are generally believed to have laid the foundation, or, at
least, to have made the earliest improvements of the mo-
dern feudal system. That tribe, having early left their
original seats in the northern parts of Germany, after ma-
ny migrations, seized upon upper Italy, and established the
kingdom of Lombardy, about the year 568. In order to
enable them to secure their conquests, they found it expe-
dient to divide the conquered country among their chief
captains, reserving the superiority to their king ; and these
captains, after retaining what they deemed sufficient for
themselves, parcelled out the remainder among a lower
rank of officers, under the condition of fidelity and milita-
ry service. The policy of this system was so universally
approved of in that military age, that even after the over-
throw of the monarchy of the Lombards in Italy, it was
adopted by Charlemagne, and eventually by most of the
princes of Europe. It was introduced into England by
William the Conqueror, who, with the view of keeping
his English subjects under complete subjection, divided
all the lands of England, with very few exceptions, into
baronies, which he distributed, according to the feudal
plan, among the most considerable of his Norman adven-
turers.

The period of its introduction into Scotland is uncertain.
It must be observed, however, that the word Feudum is not
to be found, either in the laws of the Lombards, or even
in the constitutions of Charlemagne, in all of which bene-

Vol. IX. Part I.

Jicium is the term uniformly employed to express a feudal
grant.

Feudal grants were originally precarious, being revoca-
ble at the pleasure of the grantcr; but afterwards they
were generally confei'red for life. During this period,
however, the feudal institution may be considered as in its
infancy. In a short time, the son of the feudatory was
permitted to succeed to his father ; and the Emperor Con-
rad II. surnamed the Salic, in order to engage his vassals
more effectually to his interest, in an expedition which he
undertook to Italy, in the year 1036, extended feudal suc-
cession to grandsons, and even, in the collateral line, to
bi others, in the case of a feudum antiquum. This celebra-
ted constitution paved the way for the hereditary descent
of feudal tenures.

The feudal law had early received considerable improve-
ments from the numerous constitutions, both of the Lom-
bard kings, and of Charlemagne and his successors; yet
its principles were but little known, as these constitutions
were not for some time collected into one body. In order to
obviate this iiwonvenience, the Emperor Frederick, sur-
named Barbarossa, directed an institute of the feudal sys-
tem and usages to be compiled, about tlie year 1 1 70, which
was entitled Cousuetudincs Fcudoru7n, and is subjoined to
Justinian's novels, in almost all the editions of the Corfius
juris civilis.

This collection, in so far as it is the work of private hands,
does not appear to have been expressly confirmed by the
authority of any of the German emperors. But it is gene-
rally understood to have had their approbation, and was ac-
counted the customary feudal law of all the countries sub-
ject to the empire, with a few exceptions in favour of par-
ticular usages in certain cities and districts. But the au-
thority of those written usages has not been acknowledged
by any other state; every kingdom having received the in-
stitution with peculiar modifications, and formed for itself
such a scheme of feudal laws as best accorded with its own
particular constitution, (z)

FEVER. See Medicine.

FEZ, or Fas, the capital of the ancient kingdom of that
name in Western Barbary, was founded about the 185th year
of the Hegira (A. D. 786,) by Idris, a descendent of INIaho-
met, who had iled from Medina to avoid the persecution of
the Caliph Abd-Allah. It is situated on gently rising
grounds at the bottom of a valley, watered by the river
Rasalema; but the centre of the town lies very low, and
in the winter season is wet and dirty, and at all times
rather unhealthy. It consists of two divisions, the new
town, called Fez Jedide, and the Old Fez el Balee. The
former was founded about the end of the 13th century,
when the kingdom of Fez was united with Morocco under
the sovereigns of the Marin dynasty. It is a well built
town, in an elevated and healthy situation, surrounded by a
double wall, and contains the citidel where the governor has
his residence, a large palace, a magnificent mosque, and
the greater part of the machinery employed by the differ-
ent trades. Its gardens are particularly delightful, abound-
ing in all sorts of delicious fruits and odoriferous flowers.
Old Fez has been highly celebrated for its ancient splen-
dour; and is said to have contained 62 market places, 86
public fountains, 200 streets, 600 mosques, and 200 bridges
over canals and branches of the river. Though now great-
ly reduced, it is still the most celebrated city in West Bar-
bary; and though less extensive than the metropolis of
Morocco, it is full of finer houses, and contains a greater num-
ber of inhabitants. The houses hould jtcious and lofty; and
have flat roofs, ingeniously workv .. in wood, and covered
with terrace. There the inhabitants recline upon their car-
pets in summer, to enjoy the cool breeze of the evening ;

FEZ.

^nd a small turret containing one ov two rooms, is erected
for the females of the family. The portals are supported
by pillars of brick, covered with plastei'; and in the centre
of eacii house, is an open stpiare surrounded by a gal-
lery, which communicates with the stair-rase, and into
which the doors of the different apartments open. These
doors are wide and lofty, made of curiously carved
wood, painted with various colours; and the beams of the
loot's arc also whimsically and gaily painted in the Ara-
besque style. Every house is supplied with water from
the river, which enters the town by covered channels; and
the principal dwellings have private baths and cisterns.
A bath is attached to every mosque, for religious ablu-
tions, and there are public baths in various parts of the
town to which the people resort, the men at one hour, and
the women at another. There is a great number of mosques,
sanctuaries, and other public buildings; and about fifiy of
these are very sumptuous edifices, ornamented with a kind
of marble procured in the Atlas mountains, and unknown
in the coimtries of Etirope. A few professors and students
are maintained in the mosques, and the rich Moors send
their children thither for their education; but their stu-
dies are chiefly confined to the explanation of the Koran,
and the principal advantage is the purity of the Arabic
spoken in the city. The mosque, called (Jarubin, is one
of the most ancient and magnificent edifices in the empire
of Morocco, and perhaps in all Africa; but has not been
found to correspond with the glowing description by Leo
.Africanus. There are a very IVw of those hospitals men-
tioned by early writers, where there is indeed no physi-
cians in attendance, but where the poor are supplied with
food, and the sick are attended by women. Among these
is a mad-house, where the lunatics are chained down in
apartments, which are disgustingly filthy, and treated in a
very harsh manner. The caravanseras or inns, are very
numerous, amounting nearly to 200. They ai-e three sto-
ries high, and contain from 50 to 100 apartments, each of
Avhich is provided with a mat and a water cock. The tra-
veller pays so much a day for his room, but brings his own
bedding, and purchases and dresses his own provisions.
Each trade and article of merchandize has its separate de-
partment; and there is a large square place divided into
twelve wards, which are filled chiefly with silk, cloth and
linen shops, provided with sixty criers or itinerant auc-
tioneers, who go about with the different pieces in their
hands, crying, "who bids more?" and sell the lot to the
highest bidder. The inhabitants of Fez rear a great deal
of poultry, which they keep in cages to prevent them run-
ning about the house. No animals are permitted to be
slaughtered in the city, but are killed at a distance near to
the river; and, after the price has been fixed by the offi-
cer, who superintends the price of provisions, is sent to
the shops in the town. There are many corn mills in the
city, where the poorer sort buy the flour in small quanti-
ties, and where the r-icher inhabitants send their own coin
to be ground. The population of the old and new towns
is estimated at 330,000; and the people, though nrore po-
lished than the other Moors, are remarkable for their bi-
gotted spirit. " If a Christian," says Jackson, " were there
to exclaim, Allah k'beei-, 'God is great,' he would be in-
■vited immediately to add to it, ' and Mohammed is his pro-
phet,' which, if he were inadvertently to utter before wit-
nesses, he would be irretrievably made a Mohammedan,
and circumcised accordingly." They were in former
times still more infamous, on account of their licentious
manners; and dehiy elegy was even encouraged by the
government as a sourCc of revenue : but at present the
state of morals is not worse than in the other cities of the
empire.

When the Mahometans of Andalusia, Granada, and Co/^
dova, during the revolutions in Spain, passed over to Fez,
they introduced the Spanish method of dressing and dye-
ing sheep and goat skins, red and yellow, then called Cor-
dovan, now Morocco leather. At Fez, also, was first es-
tablished the manufacture of milled woollen caps worn by
the Moors, and brought to so great perfection at Tunis.
They are named /'Vz by the Turks, which confirms the
account of their having originated irr that city. Ueside<>
gauzes, silks, and other stuffs fabricated at this city, it is
celebrated for an elegant manufacture, namely, sashes of
silk and gold. In addition to its own manufdctures, Fez is
the common magazine of Uarbai'y, to which are brought
all kinds of commodities from the sea-ports of Morocco
and the Mediterranean, from the eastern countries by the
car-avans of pilgrims, and from the centre ol Alrica by the
caravans of merchants. Its chief exports are almonds,
gums, raisins, dates, carraway, anise and worm seeds, ci-
trons, capers, oil of olives, tallow, hides, tanned leather',
particularly IMorocco leather, ostrich feathers, lead ore,
elephant's teeth. To Timbucloo, the merchants of Fez
send various articles of European, Indian, and Barbaiy
produce, especially linens, muslins, fine cloths, raw silk,
beads, brass nails, coffee, tea, and sugar, shawls, and sashes
of silk and gold, haiks, (pieces of cloth used by the Afri-
cans as outer garments) of silk, cotton, and wool ; turbans,
spices, tobacco, and salt. In return, they receive gums,
gold rings, elephant's teeth, ambergris, ostrich feathers,
and slaves. The caravans, which carry on this trade from
I'ez to Timbuctoo across the desert, generally tr'avel seven
f.ours a-day, at the rate of 3 J miles an hour, and complete
the journey between the two cities in 129 days, 54 only of
which are employed in actual travelling.

On account of the number of Mahometan saints said to
have been buried in Fez, it is considered by the Moors as
a sacred asylum, and an object of devotion. Hence all
Jews and Christians are prohibited from entering its gates;
and an order from the emperor is necessary before they
can gain admission. This, however, seems to apply only
to Old Fez, for the new town is principally occupied by
Jews, who, notwithstanding the contempt with which they
are treated, carry on a regular trade with the inhabitants
of the city. In the various revolutions to which the coun-
try of West Barbary has been subject, the citizens of Fez
were always ready to change their master, and generally
yielded at the first approach of a victorious leader. They
pi-etend even to plead, that this is a privilege which they
enjoy from the founder of their city ; but it is considered
as proceeding rather from their own cowardice, or from
the situation of the place, which is incapable of defence.
Old Fez is several leagues in circumference, but a great
pai't of the inclosed space is occupied by gardens. It is
about 120 miles from the sea-coast, and 36 from the city
of Mequinez, to which there is an excellent r'oad along a
pleasant plain, watered by numerous rivulets and canals.
The communication between these two cities is very easy
and expeditious, by means of mules, which may be had
ready saddled at all liours of the day, and which accom-
plish the journey at an easy pace in six hours, so as fre-
quently to return the same day.

In the year 1799, a dreadful plague, which spread over
all the empire of Morocco, originated in this city, which
some ascribed to infected merchandise from the East, and
others to the pestilential smell of the dead locusts which
infested ^Vest Barbary during the seven preceding years.
In the cities of Old atid New Fez, it carried off" 1200 or
1500 persons daily; and during its continuance, 65,000 of
the inhabitants perished. This deadly calamity produced
% wonderful alteration in the circumstances of the survi-

FEZ.

vors, and reduced all classes to a strange system of equa-
lity. Flocks and herds were left in the fields witiiout a
possessor; fortunes were inherited, or rather talcen up, by
common labourers; provisions became extremely cheap
and abundant; the expence of labour increased enormous-
ly ; and so few of the poor were sjjared, or those wlio had
survived were now become so rich, that there were none
almost to work or serve ; and the most wealthy indivi-
duals were obliged to labour for themselves, and to per-
form with their own hands the menial offices of their re-
spective families. See Modern Univ. Hist. vol. xviii. p.
74; Chenier's Presenl State of Morocco, vol. i. p. 71; and
Jackson's .Account of Morocco, p. 129. (9)

FEZ, a province of the empire of Morocco, is bounded
on the north by the province of Errif, on the east by Ted-
la, on the south by the niountains of Atlas, on the south-
vest by Shawiy;', and on the west by Garb and IJcnchassan.
Its dependencies are very extensive, and include several
mountainous tracts, well cultivated, and full of iidiabitants.
Its principal mountains are Zaragh, one side of which is
covered with vines, while tlie other is completely barren,
and which lies between the river Seboo and the plain where
the capital stands; and Zarkon or Zaraharum, which is
Shaded with olive trees, and on the summit of which are
the ruins of Titulies or Tuilit, once a considerable town,
but demolished by a prince of the family of the Almora-
vides. The Seboo, one of the largest rivers of West liar-
bary, rises in the eastern part of the province, near the foot
of the Atlas mountains, and passes within six miles of the
city of Fez. It is impassable, except in boats and rafts;
and at Mamora, where it enters the ocean, is a deep and
navigable river, capable of affording a cheap conreyance
for corn to the city of Fez, which is at present supplied
with that essential article by means of loaded camels, whose
hire often exceeds the original cost of the grain. The ri-
ver Bu Regreg, also, which discharges itself into the ocean
between the towns of Salee and Rabat, rises on one of the
mountains of Atlas, and proceeds through the woods and
rallies of the territory of Fez. The only other town in the
province of any note, besides the capital, is Meqcinez,
which will be described in a separate article. The whole
of this province is a rich champaign coiuitry, remarkably
productive in grain. The soil is a rich black, sometimes
reddish mould, without stones or clay. No other manure
is employed, than the long stubble burned on the field ; and
110 other culture is neccessary than to throw the grain upon
the ground, and cover it with the plough. The principal
crops are wheat and barley; but in lands adjacent to the
rivers, beans, pease, caravanies, rice and Indian corn, are
occasionally cultivated. There are few trees, except the
olive plantations and gardens around the cities of Fez and
Mequinez. Fruits of various kinds are very abundant,
particularly oranges, (which are frequently sold at a dollar
a thousand.) grapes, melons, and figs of different sorts.
Cherries also are produced in this province, though they
are said not to ripen in any other part of the empire. In
the country around the city of Mequinez, as well as in the
province of Benihassan, is produced the tobacco called Me-
quinasi, which is so much esteemed for making snufl". A
mineral salt of a red colour, exceedingly strong, is dug
from quarries in the vicinity of Fez; and considerable quan-
tities of saltpetre are also produced in the adjoining coun-
try. Near to the city is a mineral spring, which is said to
be an infallible remedy for the venereal disease, if used for
forty days successively ; and many persons in all stages of
the disorder, resort to its waters with much advantage.

On llie western side of the plain of Fez, is a village con-
taining the sanctuary of Sidi Idris, the founder and first
sovereign of Fez; and this asylum, to which malefactors
frcquenliy betake themselves, is never violated by the em-
peror, or any other authority in his dominions. The coun-
try part of this province is inhabited altogether by Arabs,
except a>smali tribe of Berebbers. See Jackson's .Account
of Morocco, p. l.T; Chenier's Present State of Morocco,
vol. i. ; Modern Univ. Hist. vol. xviii.; and I'layfiiir's Geo-
Sra/ihij, vol. vi. (y)

FEZ, formerly a distinct kingdom, and the first esta-
blished Mahometan sovereignty in AVest Barbary, contain-
ed seven provinces, viz. Fez, El Garb, Errif, Benihassan,
Temsena, Shavviya, and Tedla. The first of these has
been described above; and the rest will be found under the
article Mouocco, with which they are now united as one
empiie. Of that empire, in short, the kingdom of Fez
forms the northern division, and is separated from it by
the river Moibeya on the south. It is bounded on the east
by Algiers, and on the norih and west by the sea. It is in-
habited chiefly by Arabs, who dwell in tents, and are di-
vided into various tribes; but the mountainous districts of
Atlas are occupied by Berebbers. The kingdom of Fez
owes its origin to Sidi Idris, a descendant of Mahomet,
who fled into Mauritania about the end of the eighth cen-
tury, to avoid the persecuting sword of the Caliph Abd-
Allah. He first settled at Tuilit, in the mountain of Zaa-
ron, or Zerone, between Fez and Mequinez, where he
spread the religion of Mahomet, and acquired by his vir-
tues so great influence among the natives, that they be-
came desirous to live under his government, as well as to
adppt his religious creed. According to some authors, it
was the son of this person, named also Idris, who four.ded
the city, and established the monarchy of Fez, which was
for a long time called by the Mahometans the cciu't or
kingdom of the West. The descendants of this prince con-
tinued to reign about 150 years; but during the tenth cen-
tury great divisions began to prevail, and crovvds of usur-
pers arose in the west of Barbary. The tribe of Zenetes,
called Mequinesi, seized upon several provinces, and
founded the city of Mequinez, within ten leagues of the
capital. A marabout of that tribe, having by fanatical
predictions seduced the minds of the people from the
family of Idris, formed a considerable party in the pro-
vince of Temsena, and marched against the king of Fez,
who was thus forced to acknowledge the authority of the
Zenetes at Mequinez. Another of these innovators, who
professed to be a descendant of Ali and Fatima, proclaim-
ed himself El-Mohadi, or pontiff of the Mussulmans, and
accused the house of Idris of following a heretical sect.
He succeeded in expelling the princes of that family from
their governments;* and having declared himself Caliph,
he marched towards Mount Atlas to extend his domi-
nions. While he was thus engaged in the South, Al-
Ilabed Almonsor, one of the generals of the king of Cor-
dova, arrived with an army to aid the house of Idris ; and,
having conquered a part of the kingdom of Fez, garri-
soned the city of Arzilla, which remained for some time
under the government of the Moors in Spain. El-Mohadi,
by this diminution of his power, and by the hatred
which he excited by his cruellies, was unable to retain
his usurped authority in Fez, and was obliged to pass
into the eastern part of Africa. The whole of north-
ern Africa was, at this time, torn by divisions, in conse-
quence of a tradition, that, 300 years after Mahomet, ano-
ther director of the faithful should come from the West.

• One of these princes, named SliarlfT El Idrissi, was the author of the v/ork entitled Ceogrnpliia A'ubiciisis, which he dedicated to Ro-
ger king of Sicily, to whose court be li.id fleU for protection.

F 2

FEZ

Various impostors, profiting by tliis belief, attempted to
seize the supreme power, and were successively displaced
by new. pretenders. About tiie middle of the eleventh
century, Abu Tessifin, chief of the Morabethoons, or Mo-
rabites," a tribe which originated in the neighbourhood of
Tunis, traversed Mount Atlas at the head of a numerous
army, and took possession of the city of Agmet. Here
he fixed his residence, and extending his conquests north-
wards, proclaimed himself Emir El Mumenin, the chief
of the faithful. His arms were constantly victorious; and,
after various battles with the petty monarchs who held the
difterent cities, he remamed sovereign of Mauritania ; and
founded the dynasty of the Morabites, or as they are term-
ed by the Spanish writers the Almoravides. He was suc-
ceeded in 1086 by his son Yusef, who founded or rather
finished the city of Maroksh, or Morocco, which his fa-
ther had begun ; and there established the seat of his em-
pire. A multitude of Zenetes, having begun to propa-
gate new errors and innovations in the province of Tem-
sena, he sent several Morabites to recal the people to
their former tenets ; but, instead of listening to their rea-
sonings and remonstrances, the adherents of the new doc-
trines put them all to death, when assembled at Anafai.
Enraged by this inbuinan treatment of his ambassadors,
Yusef passed the Morbeya with a powerful army, and ra-
vaged the country of the offenders with fire and sword.
The Zenetes, unable to oppose his progress, retreated
towards Fez, demanding aid from its sovereign ; but this
prince, instead of affording them protection, marched
against them as invaders; and coming up with them on
the banks of the Buregreb, when they were harassed with
hunger and fatigue, he cut the greater part of them to
pieces. Yusef having rendered Temsena a complete de-
sert, returned victorious to Morocco ; but the desolated
province, having been repeopled by colonics from the
kingdom of Fez, he embraced the first opportunity of at-
tacking the king of that country. Having entered the ter-
ritories of his neighbour with a numerous army, and gain-
ed a decisive victory over his forces, he deprived him of
his kingdom, and united it to the empire of Morocco,
about the end of the eleventh century. See Mod. Univ. Hist,
vol. xviii.; Chenier's Present State of Morocco, vol, ii. ;
Playfair's Geog. vol. vi. and Jackson's ^c. of Morocco, (y)
FEZZAN, one of the provinces of the state of Tri-
poli, is a considerable tract of country in the interior of
Northern Africa, situated about 360 miles south of Mesu-
rata, and nearly midway between Tunis and Egypt. It is
considered as the country of the ancient Garamantes, and
as corresponding with the Phazania of Pliny, (lib. v. c. 5).
As it is completely insulated by sandy or rocky tracts, and
separated to a considerable distance from any other habit-
able district, it falls under the description of Oases, or fer-
tile spots in the middle of the desert, and may be reckon-
ed the largest Oasis that is known. It is a circular or ra-
ther oval domain, surrounded on all sides by an irregular
ridge of mountains, except on the western border, where
it communicates with tlie flat sandy desert, or Sahara.
The greatest length of the cultivated part of the king-
dom is about 300 English miles from north to south, and
the greatest breadth 200 miles from east to west. But
the mountainous regions of Harutch, on the eastern fron-
tier, and other desert districts of considerable extent to-
wards the south and west, are within its territory. On the
north, it is bordered by Arab tribes, nominally dependent
on Tripoli; on the east, by the hilly deserts already men-
tioned ; on the south and south-east, by the country of the

Tibbocs ; on the south-west, by that of the Nornadic Tu-
arics; and on the west by Arabs. Almost the only his-
torical notices of this country by the ancients, are to be
found in Pliny, who mentions it as one of the most impor-
tant conquests of the Roman general Balbus.

The climate is at no season temperate or agreeable.
The heat is intense during summer; and when the wind
blows from the south, is scarcely supportable, even by the
natives. A bleak north wind prevails during winter, which
produces a severe and chilling degree of cold. Rain very
seldom falls through the whole year, and when it does
come, is little in quantity ; but water, notwithstanding, is
found every where in wells of eight or ten feet in depth ;
a circumstance, supposed to be owing to the high lands by
which the country is surrounded. Tiiunder and lightning
are rare ; but storms of wind, whirling up the sand and
dust, are very frequent. There is not a river or stream
of any note in the whole country, as far as was observed
by Horneman ; but Edrisi mentions a river of some size,
which takes its course by Zuela, and which is lost in the
sand before it reaches the sea. The soil is a deep sand,
covering calcareous rock or earth, and sometimes a stra-
tum of argillaceous substance; but, as the springs are so
abundant, few regions in the north of Africa exhibit a
richer vegetation. Both the soil and climate are well
adapted for the growth of wheat and barley ; but, from the
indolence of the people, their ignorance of tillage, or the
oppressions of their government, a sufficiency of corn for
their subsistence is not raised in the country, and they de-
pend upon importations from the Arab countries to th»
north. Pot-herb and garden vegetables in general are
plentiful, and some senna is raised in the western districts;
but the natural and staple produce of Fezzan is dates.
There are few horses in the country, and camels are kept
only by the wealthy inhabitants; but asses are generally
used for all the purposes of burden, draught, or cariiage.
A few horned cattle are found in the fertile districts, which
are employed in drawing water from the wells, and are
never slaughtered for food unless in cases of extreme ne-
cessity. The ordinary domestic animal is the goat, and a
few sheep are reared in the southern parts of the king-
dom. The antelope, tiger, and ostrich, are the principal
wild animals, from which the natives derive any benefit;
but the more noxious and loathsome creatures are suffi-
ciently abundant ; and snakes, adders, scorpions, toads,
and similar vermin, are the constant inhabitants of the
fields, gardens, and houses.

Fezzan is the most advantageously situated, of all the
inland countries in Africa, for the purposes of commerce,
as it lies in the shortest and most convenient line of com-
munication between the Mediterranean and the centre of
Africa, as well as between Western Africa, Egypt, and
Arabia. Its trade is, of consequence, considerable; and
its inhabitants are the most enterprising merchants in that
quarter of the globe; but their traffic consists chiefly in
foreign merchandize, and they are enriched by the carry-
ing trade across the deserts. The capital, Mourzouk, is
the great resort of numerous caravans from Cairo, Ben-
gasi, Gadames, Troat, and Soudan ; and the rendezvous
of all the Mahomedan pilgrims from the west and south
of Africa on their way to Mecca. The caravans from the
south and west bring, as articles of commerce, slaves of
both sexes, ostrich feathers, tiger skins, zibette, and gold,
partly in dust, and partly in native grains, to be manufac-
tured into ornaments for the inhabitants of the interior.
From Bornou, copper is imported in great quantities ; from

• The name is supposed to be derived from the word Marabout, a name given to Mahomedan Saints or Monks, and applied to the fol-
lowers of Tessifin, because most of his officers were persons of that description.

FEZZAN.

CairO) silks, calicoes, clothe, and East India goods; to-
bacco, sniiff, and Turkey ware from Bengasi; paper, fire-
arms, sabres, red worsted caps, and woollen cloths, from
Tripoli and Gadanier; and butter, oil, corn, senna and ca-
mels, from the Tuarics and southern Arabs.

There are no articles of manufacture produced in the
country, and the natives discover no ingenuity as artificers.
The only tradesmen are shoemakers and smiths ; and the
latter work every metal without distinction, so that the
same person, who forges shoes for the sultan's horse,
forms rings for the princesses. The women, indeed, make
a coarse woollen cloth called abbe; but, so imperfect is
their manufacturing skill, that the whole work is perform-
ed solely by the hand, and the woof is inserted into the
warp thread by thread.

The country of Fezzan is governed by a Sultan, who
reigns with unlimited authority over his subjects, but
holds liis dominions as tributary to the Bashaw of Tripoli.
The crown is hereditary, but does not always descend from
father to son. The law of succession requires, that, when
a vacancy occurs, the oldest prmcc of the blood royal shall
ascend the throne, a regulation which frequently occasions
an appeal to the sword. The Sultan, by the rules of the
state, must always be of the family of the Shereefs of Wa-
den or Zuila. The palace is situated within the fortress
of the capital, and the Sultan lives there retired, without
any other inmates, except the eunuchs, who act as his at-
tendants. The Harem is contiguous to the royal residence,
and the females are brought to the apartment of the sove-
reign, who never enters their habitation. He never ap-
pears without the castle walls, except on Fridays, when
he goes to the great mosque, or on other public festivals,
when he is attended by his whole court. On these days of
solemnity, he rides on horseback, in a plain on the out-
side of the town, where his courtiers exhibit their skill in
equestrian exercises, or practise the art of shooting. On
these days of state and ceremony, the Sultan's apparel
consists of a large white stuff frock or shirt, made in the
Soudan fashion, and brocaded with gold and silver. Under
this covering he wears the ordinary dress of the Tripoli-
tans, without any thing remarkable in his appearance, ex-
cept his turban, which extends a full yard from the front
to the hinder part, and is not less than two thirds of a yard
in breadth. His official attendants are the first and second
ministers of state, both of whom must be freeborn men,
but whose influence, notwithstanding their nominal rank,
is very inconsiderable; the general of his forces, who may
be appointed from any class at the sovereign's pleasure;
a number of black slaves, who are purchased when boys,
and educated for the court according to their talents; and
a few white slaves, termed Mamelukes, who are mostly
Europeans, Greeks, Genoese, or the descendants of such,
and who possess the principal interest and power.

Justice is administered by an officer named the Cadi,
who is at the same time the chief of the clergy, and pos-
sesses great influence with the people. His decisions are
directed by the Mahommedan law, and acknowledged cus-
toms ; and, in his absence, his secretary or scribe performs
the office of judge. In criminal cases, however, the judg-
ment is arbitrary, or is referred to the Sultan. The dig-
nity of chief justice is hereditary in a certain family; but
the sultan selects the individuai of tn:;t race who is most
qualified by his learning to fill the office, or, in other words,
who can best read or write. The princes of the sultan's
family also claim a right of jurisdiction, and of imposing
corporal punishments. Next to the cadi, as head of the
clergy, is the great iman.

The public revenues arise from territorial domains of
ihe crown, from the royal gardens and forests, from salt

pools and natron lakes, from duties on foreign trade, from
assessments on all gardens and cultivated lands, and from
arbitrary fines or requisitions. The public expenditure
consists in the maintenance of the sultan, his court and
household. The princes of the royal family are support-
ed by proportions of corn delivered weekly from the sul-
tan's stores, by the proceeds of territory appropriated to
that purpose, and by occasional exactions from the people,
levied by their personal authority, and by their own slaves.
The cadi, the great officers of the government, and the
clergy, are maintained by the produce of date-tree woods
and gardens, granted as temporary possessions to those
who hold the respective ofi'ices.

The kingdom of Fezzan contains 101 towns and villa-
ges, among which there are few places of any note, and
still fewer whose positions are ascertained. The principal
are, Mourzouk the capital, frequently called Fezzan, which
is situated nearly in the centre of the country, is a walled
town, and contains many ruins of ancient buildings, amidst
its cottages of earth and stone. Zaioila or Zuila, supposed
to be tlie Citlaba of Pliny, is about 70 miles eastward of
Mourzouk, was once the capital of the kingdom, and is
still a place of considerable importance in the country, as
being the residence of many of the leading men, antl of
the relatives of the sovereign. Its environs are well wa-
tered, remarkable for fertility, full of groves of date-trees,
and better cultivated than most other places. It contains
many vestiges of ancient splendour, cisterns, vaulted caves,
&c. which some writers consider as the remains of Roman
architecture; but the ruins, which Mr Horneman observ-
ed, were entirely of Mahommedan origin. Jerma, or Yerma,
unquestionably the Garama of the Romans, and the capi-
tal of the country at the time of its being subdued by their
arms, is situated as far to the west as Zuila is to the east
of Mourzouk, and is full of majectic ruins, and ancient
inscriptions. 7'eniissa, about 120 miles eastward of the
capital, is rather a garrison than a town, built on a hill,
and is surrounded by a high wall; tlie inhabitants of which
derive their chief subsistence from the date trees, and em-
ploy themselves in keeping sheep and goats. The ruins
of this place arc merely dilapidated houses, built of lime-
stone, and cemented with a reddish mortar. Katron, or Ga-
tron, about 60 miles south of Mourzouk, is remarkable
only for the multitude of common fowls reared by its in-
habitants, and the abundant crops of Indian corn in its
neiglibourhood. Alcudra, about 60 miles south-east of tlie
capital, is an inconsiderable place, but the province, which
bears its name, is remarkable for the quantity of trona, a
species of fossil alkali, which floats on the surface of its
numerous lakes. Teg/uri/, about 70 miles south-west of
the capital, is a small town, nearest to the western fron-
tier. To the north are Sockna, Sib/ia, Hun, and IVaden.

The population of Fezzan is calculated at 70,000 or
75,000 souls, all professini; the Mahommedan religion.
The genuine natives are described as a people of ordinary
stature, deep brown complexion, black short hair, regular
features, and feeble limbs. Tiieir whole appearance and
gesture is said to denote an utter want of energy either in
mind or body, which is ascribed to the oppressive nature
of their government, and to the extreme poverty of their
diet, which consists chiefly of dates, r.i)d a kind of farina-
ceous pap, with sometims, though rarely, a little rancid
oil or fat. It is a common periphrasis to designate a rich
man, by saying that he is one who eats bread and meat
every day. But though remarkably abstemious in diet,
they are greatly addicted to drunkenness. Their beverage
is the juice of the date tree, called lugibi, which, when
fresh, is sweet and pleasant, though apt to produce flatu-
lency and diarrhoea, or a liquor prepaacd from the date;,

FIB

FIE

called busa, wliich is extremely intoxicaling;. Their ordi-
nary atnuscmeiit in Iheir evcnini^ meetings, is chinking,
witn tiie occasionul addition ol" a dancing gii-1, whose musL-
cul instrument is a rude kind of i^uitar, and whose motions
are siifliciently lascivious. The manners of the females,
in general, arc unusually licentious, and they are vehe-
mently fond of amusement, especially of dancing in the
open places of the towns and villages, at all hours of tlie
clay.

Their hahitations are as wretched as their subsistence.
They are all extremely low, with no other aperture for
light than the door, and are built with stones or bricks ot
a calcareous earth mixed with clay, and dried in the sun.
The walls are covered over with white mortar ; and the
whole operations of building and plastering, are perform-
ed without tools, entirely by the hands of the laljourer.

The dress of the Fezzaners consists of a shirt or frock,
generally blue, made of a coarse linen or cotton cloth,
brought from Cairo, and the abbe of their own manufac-
ture. The richer class wear the Tripolitan habit, with a
Soudan shirt over it of variegated pattern and colours.
The ornaments of the women consist chiefly in necklaces
of glass beads, or pieces of agate with a round silver plate
in the front, trinkets made of silver bells, coral and amber
suspended from the tresses of hair on the head, and rings
of glass, horn, brass or silver, to the number sometimes of
nine or ten on each arm and leg.

The principal diseases of the natives, are a fever and
ague, which is particularly dangerous to foreigners ; hse-
itiorrhoids or piles, which arc supposed to be aggravated
by the immoderate use of red pepper ; the small-pox, in
■which an application of tamarinds and onions is said to be
employed with good effect to preserve the eyes; and the
venereal disorder, with which the natives are said to be in-
fected only once in the course of their lives, and which
they generally cure without much difficulty, by the use of
salts and coloquintida, or powerful cathartics, washing the
sores, at the same time, with natron water or dissolved
soda. Their surgical art extends only to the setting of a
simple fracture and occasional blood-letting, which is al-
ways done by cupping, and never by venesection ; and their
practice of medicine is confined almost entirely to amulets,
consisting of sentences from the Koran, written on a slip
of paper, which the patient wears about his neck, and is
sometimes compelled to swallow. See Playfair's Geogra-
phy, vol. vi. ; Rennel's Geogra/ihy of Herodotus, p. 566,
618 ; and Horneman's Travels in Africa, p. 62. (y)

FIARS, is the name given in Scotland to the average
prices of ciifferent kinds of grain sold within the county for
ready money. Their average prices are generally de-
termined by the Sheriff in the end of February or the be-
ginning of March, from the evidence of a number of re-
spectable tenants or dealers in corn. The method of strik-
ing the average varies in different counties, (w)
FIBRE. See Anatomy and Physiology.
FICHTELBERG. See Fuanconia.
FIELDING, Henry, the celebrated English novellist
and dramatic writer, was born at Sharpham Park, near
Glastonbury, in Somersetshire, on the 22d of April 1707.
His father, Edmund Fielding, Esq. who was nearly related
to many noble and respectable families, served in the wars
under the Duke of Marlborough, and eventually rose to
the rank of lieutenant-general. His mother was daughter
to Judge Gould, and aunt to Sir Henry Gould, one of the
Barons of Exchequer.

Fielding received the rudiments of his education at
home, under the care of the Rev. Mr Oliver, a peison for
whom he seems to have entertained no very great regard,
as he is generally thought to have designecl the character

of Parson Trulllber, in Jo»efih Andrews, as a portrait of
this clergyman. He was afterwards removed to F'.toii
school, where he had an opportunity of forming a very
early intimacy with the first Lord Lyttleton, Mr Fox, (af-
terwards Lord Holland), Mr Pitt, (afterwards Earl of
Chatham), Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, and several
other distiiiguished characters, who ever afterwards che-
rished a Warm regard for him. By an assiduous applica-
tion to study, and the cultivation of strong natural tulents,
he is said to have also acquired an uncommon knowledge
of the Greek and Lutiri classics, during his residence at
that seminary of education ; and when about eighteen years
of age, he repaired to the University of Leyden, where
he studied under the most celebrated civilians for about
two years, at the expiration of which period, he was com-
pelled, in consequence of the failure of remittances, to
return to London.

His fatlitr, General Fielding, having greatly increased
his family by a second marriage, found it impossible to
afford his son an income proportionate to the ex pence at-
tending those fasluo.iable pleasures in which he had loo
great a propensity to mdulge. The vivacity of his tem-
per, the biilliancy of his wit, and his relish of all kinds of
social enjoyment, made him a most desirable companion
in the circles of literature and fashion ; but having no dis-
position for economy, and his finances being inadequate to
tlie draughts made upon him in this career of dissipation,
he soon foiuid himself involved in difficulties, from which,
however, he hoped to extricate himself by the exertion of
his genius. Accordingly, he commenced a writer for the
stage, in 1727, whei> he had just completed his 20th
year.

His first dramatic attempt was a comedy, called Love
in several Masques, which met with a very favourable
reception, although it laboured under the disadvantage of
succeeding the long and crowded run of the Provoked
Husband. His second play. The Temfile Beau, which
came out in the following year, was also well received ;
and from this period, down to the year 1737, he continued
to bring forward a number of plays and farces for the
stage. But although these productions possess consider-
able merit, it is generally allowed that Fielding's genius
did not qualify him to excel in dramatic writing. In his
plays there is a good deal of humour and vivacity ; con-
siderable knowledge of life and manners, and abundant
proof of an attentive observation of the humours, foibles,,
and affectations of mankind ; but they were evidently
written with carelessness and haste : he disregarded the
rules of dramatic decorum, despised the criticism of the
stage, and obstinately refused to make any sacrifice to the
feelings or taste of his audience. '

The emoluments which he derived from his dramatic
labours were by no means great ; and his imprudent ex-
travagance still continuing, he found himself obliged to
resort to some extraordinary expedient to supply his ne-
cessities. With this view, about the year 1735, he deter-
mined to bring forward a new, but certainly rather ha-
zardous species of public entertainment ; which is parti-
cularly worthy of notice, as it eventually produced an ex-
traordinary change in the constitution of the dramatic sys-
tem. He brought together a great number of actors, and
made preparations for exhibiting performances, chiefly of
a political tendency, at the little theatre in the Haymarket,
Uiider the whimsical title of The Great Mogul's Comfiany
of Comedians. It is probable, that, in this singular under-
taking, F'ickling was actuated, in some degree, by resent-
ment against the minister. Sir Robert Walpole, whom he
had formerlerly flattered, but who had hitherto neglected
him. The project had the charm of novelty, and succeed-

1 1 ELDING.

ed, at first, so well, as to answer his most sanguine expec-
tations. But this novelty wore olT \vith the first season ;
and the tlesii^n altcrwards received so little encoiirage-
iTient, that he was forced to abandon it. The severity of
the satire, however, wliich was contained in the pieces
represented at the liaymarket theatre, galled the minister
extremely ; and he determined, not only to put down this
inodern Aristophanes, but, like the Athenian government
upon a similar occasion, to restrain the public theatres
from becoming the scourge of statesmen at any future
period. Accordingly, he laid hold of a piece, written by
somebody or other, called the Golden Runi/t, which was
full of abuse, not only against the parliament, the council,
and the ministry, but even against majesty itself; and
inade such use of it, as occasioned the bringing into parli-
ament a bill for the regulation of the theatre, and to explain
an act made in the 12th year of the reign of Queen Anne,
for reducing the laws concerning rogues, vagabonds, com-
mon players of interlude. Sec. By this bill, whicb passed
into a law, after some opposition, in the year 1737, the re-
presentation of dramatic performances was confined to
Westminster and its liberties, or where the royal family
should at any time reside ; and the theatres were prohibited
from bringing forward any play, or even prologue, epilo-
gue, or song, without its being first inspected, and obtain-
ing the licence of the Lord Chamberlain. This act also
took from the crown the power of licensing any more
theatres ; and inflicted heavy penalties on those who should
afterwards bring forward any performance, in defiance of
the regulations of the statute.

Among the earlier publications of Fielding, may be
noticed an Esuay on Conversation ; an Essay on the Know-
ledge oj' the Characters of Men ; a Journey from this IVorUl
to the 7iext ; and the history of Jonathan Wild the Great ;
in which he displayed his natural humour and knowledge
of mankind, but of which the moral tendency is, at least,
questionable.

Some years after he began to write for the stage, he
married Miss Craddock, a young lady from Salisbury, who
possessed a great share of beauty, and a fortune of 1500/.
pounds; and about the same time, he succeeded, through
his mother, to an estate at Slower, in Dorsetshire, of some-
what better than 2001. jicr annum. With this fortune, he
wisely determined to bid adieu to all the follies and dis-
sipation to which he had been hitherto addicted, and to
retire, with his wife, to his seat in the country. But his
natural disposition, and passion for society and show, un-
fortunately prevailed over all his prudent resolutions ; and
in less than three years from the period of his retirement
from town, his extravagance, and total neglect of economy,
reduced him to his former state of poverty, dependence
and distress. His ardent temperament, however, did not
suffer him to be easily discouraged. Having determined
once more to exert his abilities, in endeavouring to pro-
cure a competent subsistence, he applied himself to the
study of the law ; and, after the usual period of probation
at the Temple, being called to the bar, he made no incon-
■siderable figure in Westminster Hall. But the intem-
perance of his early life now began to affect his health so
seriously, as to prevent him from bestowing the requisite
attention on the duties of his laborious profession, and con-
sequently from reaching that degree of eminence, which
his talents and learning might otherwise have enabled hint
to attain. Amidst all the severities of pain and poverty,
however, he still found resources in his genius. For some
years he devoted iiis talents, in a great measure, to politics;
he was concerned in a political periodical paper, called
the Champion, which owed its principal support to his
prolific pen ; and he was himself Ihe conductor of two

publications,— the True Patriot, and the Jacobite Journal,
in which he supported the principles of the Hanoverian
succession. About this ])eriod, lie had the misfortune to
lose his wife, whom he had ever tenderly loved ; and the
fortitude which he had displayed in all the former distress-
ing situations of his life, is said to have entirely deserted
him upon this trying occasion. His grief, indeed, was so
violent, that great apprehensions were, for a considerable
period, cntertaiivccl of liis being ever again possessed of the
ordinary powers of reason.

Hitherto the genius of Fielding had been chiefly em-
ployed upon hasty dramatic efi'usions, written, no doubt,
with the view of su|)plying the exigencies of the moment;
or upon miscellaneous subjects of mere temporary interest.
But the powers of his mind were now, fortunately, directed
to a species of composition, in which he was peculiarly
qualified to excel, and to which he is principally indebted
for his reputation with posterity. His celebrated novels
of Jose/jh yJndreivs, Tom Jones, and .Amelia, produced in
the maturity of his genius, may be considered as forming
a sort of sera in the history of his own life, as well as in the
literary history of his country ; and have elevated Fielding
to the first rank among the v/iiiers of fictitious narratives.

But the employment of his pen could evidently aH'ord
him only a precarious subsistence ; and although he occa-
sionally received large contributions from his fi lends, he is
said to have been frequently reduced, by disease and the
pressure of want, to the extremity of distress. In the year
1749, however, he at length received a small pension from
government ; and, at the same time, his necessities obliged
liim to accept of the oflice of an acting magistrate in the
commission of the peace for Westminster and the county
of Middlesex ; an office which is generally obnoxious to the
populace, and which, in those days, seldom failed to incur
the imputation of venality and corruption, from which Fiel-
ding was not exempted. In discharging the duties of his
office, he displayed uncommon vigilance and activity of
mind. Besides suggesting many beneficial plans and regu-
lations of police, he published several useful tracts upon
subjects connected with the functions which he had to dis-
chaige. Among these are, yJn .^iddrexs to the Grand Jury
of Afiddlrsejc, which he delivered at Westminster in Jime
1749 ; ./:/ Proposal for making an effectual provision for the
Poor, &c. An Inquiry into the Causes of the late increase of
Robbers, &c.

The active and busy life of Fielding was now drawing
tovy-ards a period. In 1753, his constitution had become so
entirely shattered, in consequence of continual and severe
attacks of gout and other disorders, that all remedies jiroved
ineffectual ; and, by the advice of his physicians, he at
length determined to try the restorative effects of a warm-
er climate. In the following year, he accordingly set out
for Lisbon; but in two months after his arrival at that
place, death terminated his sufferings, in the forty-eighth
year of his age. He wrote a journal of the occurrences
which happened to him during the voyage from England
to Lisbon, which was i)ublished after his death. This work
proves, that even in the last stage of bodily infirmity, his
strong natural powers of intellect and observation had not
deserted him.

Henry Fielding was tall in stature, and of a large and ro-
bust frame of body, until the vigour of his constitution had
been broken by disease. He had an ardent temperament,
and lively passions. His affections were warm, sincere,
and constant; and his conduct and deportment were open
and manly. He possessed a vigorous uaderstanding, a
quick discernment, an inventive genius, and lively wit ; and
to considerable learning, he -added acute powers of obser-
vation, and an extensive knowledge of men and manners^

IIFESHIRE.

Bui llie turbulence ol' his passifjiis occasionally hurried
him beyond the bounds of moderation ; and in the article
of worldly prudence he appears to have been remarkably
deficient. Although at one time possessed of a moderate
estate, he suft'ered it to be devoured by an exlravagatit hos-
pitality ; and the whole course of his life exhibits a con-
stant struggle of genius with poverty and disease.

As an author, Fielding must be allowed to hold a very
eminent rank. His dramatic pieces, indeed, although the
production of no ordinary pen, are not considered as of first
rale excellence ; but in the province of novel- writing, he
has no superior, and few equals. JoHCjth Andrews and
Tnni Jones are esteemed among the most finished perfor-
mances of this kind in any language ; and are too univer-
sally known to require any more particular notice in thi;5
■work.

An edition of the works of Fielding, with an essay on his
life and genius, by Mr Murphy, was published in London,
in 1762, 4to. See also The Life of Henry Fielding, Usq.
by William Watson, Edinburgh, 1807. (r)

FIFESHIRE, the name of one of the maritime counties
of Scotland.

I. J^atural History. — The county of Fife is situated on
the east coast of Scotland, between 56° 2' and 56° 27' of
North Latitude, and between 2° and 2° 56' of West Longi-
tude from Greenwich, On the south it is bounded by the
Frith of Foith, on the east by the German Ocean, and on
the north by the Frith of Tay. Its western boundary is
iri-egulav, being indented by the county of Kinross, and uni-
ted by an uneven line with the shires of Perth and Clack-
mannan. Its greatest breadth, from Elie to Balmerino, is
about 19 miles from south to north ; and its greatest length,
from Fifeness to the extremity of the parish of Saline, is
about 48 miles from east to west. It contains about 52,144
square miles, or 263,593 Scottish acres.

The climate of Fifeshire may be considered as mild and
temperate. On the south side of the county, along the
shores of the Forth, the air is warm and friendly to vege-
tation. On the high grounds wliich traverse the middle of
the county, the soil is damp, and the air cold. The nor-
thern parts, which are rather exposed, and destitute of
shelter, have a very bleak aspect, and in these the air is
sharp and penetrating.

There are no remarkable springs in the county. Those
which issue from the rocks of the coal-field between the
Eden and the Forth, are frequently of the chalybeate kind;
and in a few places, as at Kinghorn, of considerable strength.
In the jiiiddle district of the county, including the valley of
the Eden, the springs are frequently saline, and issue either
from beds of sandstone or gravel. In the northern portion
of the shire, where trap-rocks abound, the springs yield
water of the greatest purity. In the Inch Craig of Car-
nock, adjoining to the dam-dyke, there is a spring of pe-
trolium, producing a liquid resembling ink, which drops
almost constantly from the rock.

At a former period, there were numerous marshes and
lakes in many parts of Fife, which the hand of industry has
changed into fertile fields by means of draining. A few
lakes still remain to enliven the scene, and give variety to
the prospect. The Loch of Lindores,\n the parish of Ab-
die, is surrounded with high uneven ground, and presents
a specimen of picturesque scenery seldom equalled. It is
about a mile in length, abounds with pike, perch, and eel,
and is much frequented by ducks, coots, and other water-
fowl. Kilco7i(]ubar Loch lies on the boundary that divides
the parish of Kilconquhar from Elie, is nearly of a circular
form, and may be about two miles in circumference. It
abounds with pike and excellent eels. In the parish of
Auchterderran there are two lakes of considerable size.

Locltgellic and Comilta; the former about three miles, the
latter about two miles in circumference ; and farther west,
in the jjaribh of Beilh, we meet with Lochfitlie, of an ob-
long figure, and of e(|ual extent with either of the two last
mentioned. To these may be added, Kinghorn Loch, in the
neighbourhood of the town of Kinghorn, and the small
liiUe at Olterslon in the parish of Dalgely.

The rivers of this county (provincially termed waters or
burns) are few in number, and inconsiderable in magnitude,
owing to its peninsulated situation. The Leven (the only
river which Buchanan takes any notice of ) issues from the
eastern side of the celebrated Loch Leven, and empties
itself into the Frith of Forth at Largo Bay. In its course
through Fife, which extends to about twelve miles, it is
joined by an inconsiderable stream called the Lothrie, a
little below the village of Leslie, and by the united rivulets
of the Lochty and the Orr, about half a mile to the west-
ward of Cameron-bridge. This river, the water of which
is clear, the supply constant, and the s-tream weighty, drives
the machinery of a great number of mills, which at vari-
ous periods have been erected on its banks. At its open-
ing into Largo Bay, there is a considerable salmon fishery,
and the river also abounds with fine trout, pike, and eels.
The eels annually descend from Loch Leven to the sea, in
the night-time, during the month of September, and are ta-
ken in great quantities by nets placed in the river, which
the fishers draw every two hours. The lands of Sthra-
thendy, before the Reformation, were subject to an annual
tax of some thousands of eels to the Abbey of Inchcolm.
The river Eden, which is formed by the confluence of se-
veral small streams, in the parish of Strathmiglo, moves
slowly through a level valley, pisses the town of Cupar,
and unites with the German Ocean a little below the Gair
Bridge, to the north-east of the city of St Andrews. In its
course eastwards, which may extend to 20 miles, it is in-
creased by a few tributary streams, and at its confluence
with the sea, is joined by the Motray, a rivulet collected
among the hills on the left bank of the Tay. At the mouth
of the Eden, a few salmon are yearly taken, and it abounds
with fine trout, pike, and eels.

Along the south side of the Grampians there is an ex-
tensive plain, stretching south-west and north-east, and con-
stituting the great valley of Strathmore; and along the
south side of the Ochils, which may be viewed as the out-
works of the Grampians, there is a similar valley stretch-
ing by Alloa, Kinross, Strathmiglo, Kettle, and Cupar.
The eastern portion of this valley, which is situated in Fife-
shire, is known by the name of the Honv of Fife. It divides
Fife into two natural divisions, a northern and a southern.
The bottom of this valley is but little elevated above the
level of the sea, so that a canal might very easily be formed
which would unite the mouth of the Eden, or the harbour
of St Andrews, with Loch Leven, and even with Stirling.
Such a canal would be of incalculable advantage to the
counties of Clackmannan, Kinross, Perth, and Fife ; we
may even include Angus, as a lateral branch by Lindores
to Newburgh could easily be formed. The conveyance of
those indispensible minerals, coal and lime, to districts
at present but scantily supplied with either, would be great-
ly facilitated, as vessels could pass with certainty through
this canal in so many hours, which have to wait at present
several weeks before they are able to weather the exposed
promontory of Fifeness. From the How of Fife, at Colles-
sie, there is a lateral valley which runs into the Tay by
Woodmill, Lindores, and Clatchart Craig, and another by
Luthrie, Kilmany, and Forgan, terminating in the extensive
plain called Tents Moor. These vallies observe the gene-
ral easterly direction of the ranges of the hills, and contain
small eminences of regularly stratified gravel in different

IIIESHIRE.

purls or their course, as atCollessie, Cupar, and Forsjan. We
could ofi'er some curious observations concerning the orij^in
of these hills of gravel, were this a proper place to theorise.

The hills on the north side of this great lonj^itudinal val-
ley constitute the eastsrn base of tlie O-.hil hills, with which
they agree in direction and constitution. The prevailing
rocks are red and white sandstone, amygdaloid, con)pact
felspar, claystone, clinkstonej greenstone, basalt, trap tuff,
and wacke. Limestone occurs only at one place on the
farm of Parkhill, near Newburgh. These rocks belong to
the oid red sandeCone formation of Professor Werner. The
more compact rocks of clinkstone, basalt, and felspar, form
hills of considerable height, with precipitous acclivities, as
Glenduckie hill, Norman's Law, and Lucklaw ; while the
other rocks of a less durable nature, such as amygdaloid
and tuff, form rounded hills, usually covered with soil, as
at Balmeadow side, Moonzie, and Forrct. The soil of this
northern district, chiefly derived from the decay of the trap
rocks, is remarkably fertile, and produces grain of the finest
quality. Shell marl is here found in some places in great
abundance, as at Rossie and Lord's Cairnie. This district
affords calcedony, carnelian, and jasper, and considerable
quantities of gravel cemented by manganese have like-
wise been observed.

To the south of the How of Fife, the rocks are of a very
different kind, and constitute a part of the great coal field
of the river district of the Forth. The most important mi-
neral of this district is coa/, of which the following subspe-
cies occur : pitch coal, slate coal, and cannel coal. Fre-
quently all these are found in the strata cut through by the
same pit ; and a mixture of the two former in the same
bed is very common. It was in this county where coal
was first employed as fuel in Scotland, at least the eailiest
evidence of its use is said to be a charter of William de
Obervill, in which he grants liberty to the Abbot and Con-
vent of Dunfermline to open a coalpit upon his lands of
Pityncrieff. This charter is dated the day before the feast
of St Ambrose in March 1291. The principal coalworks
are situated in the parishes of Dunfermline, Dysart, We-
myss, and Markinch ; at the same time it may be mention-
ed, that beds of coal occur in almost every parish in the
district. Glance coal, provincially termed blind coal, is
likewise a common production, and is used in the drying of
malt and other grain, and in the burning of lime. Lime-
stone in this district is very abundant, and in some places
is of great purity. It is the compact limestone of minera-
logists, and contains numerous petrifactions of shells and
corals, and in one or two places the impression of plants.
At Lime-kilns on the Forth, the burning of lime is carried
on to a greater extent than perhaps in any other county in
Scotland. Ironstone is another very common production,
and at one time was smelted in a furnace at Balgonie. Sand-
stone, or freestone as it is called, is a rock of frequent oc-
currence. In many places, it is of a fine grain and durable
quality, and is well adapted for architectural purposes. It
often contains bituminous wood. The other rocks found
in the coalfield are slate clay, bituminous shale, greenstone,
basalt, amygdaloid, wacke, and flint. In this district are
situated several hills, among which may be mentioned the
Binn, the two Lomonds, and Largo'Law. In general the
ground is moderately level. The soil is very various in
quality, owing to the great variety of rocks from which it
has originitod. In the higher parts, a cold stiff clay pre-
vails, while in the lower grounds the soil is less retentive,
and more frii'ndly to vegetatio'.i. The precious stone, known

by the name of the Elie Ruby, is here found imbedded in a
rock of iriip-tuir. Lead and copper ores have been obser-
ved in dillerent places, and the sulphurated ores of zinc ;
nay, it ai)])ears from the charters of the monastery of Dun-
fermline, that the hills of Fife formerly yielded ^'oW.

The native plants of Fife arc very numerous. They
were, in part, dcsci ibed by the industrious Sibbald, and sub-
sccpient botanists have made considerable additions to his
list. In the marshes of the county the botanist will find the
u\7iive'i tOii], Ni/i/mris vulgaris ; the small water plantain,
Alisma ranuncttloides ; the glaucous marsh hitchwort, Stel-
laria glauca ; the water iig-wort, Scrofihularia aquanca ;
the water hemlock, (provincially known from it deleterious
qualities by the name (jf dcathin,) Cicuta virosa ; alid the
basket osier, Salix Forbyana. The woods will furnish him
■with the yellow star of Bethlehem, Ornil/iogalum luteum ;*
the round-leaved winter-gre<.n, Pyrota rolundifotia ; the al-
ternate-leaved golden saxefrage, Clirysosfitenium alternifo-
Hum ; and the bird's-nest ophrys, Rjupaclia .Vidusavis. Mac-
duff 'a cave at Elie will yield him the German Madwort,
Asjierugo firocu/nbens ; and the French, sorrel of horticul-
turists. The hills will afi'ord him the alpine bugle, -Ajuga
aljiina ; the alpine bistort, Polygonumviviparum ; the com-
mon moonwort, Osmunda Lunaria ; and the rock brakes,
Pteris crisfm. Among the fields of wheat, the smooth rye
brome grass, Bromus secalinus, appears, a common but un-
welcome visitant.

The zoology of Fife is r,o less interesting than its botany,
in consequence of the great extent of sea coast. On the
land the zoologist will meet with the rare Sorex: fodiens iti
meadow ground, the Tringa alfiina breeding in the Tents
Moor, and the Sfihinv atro/ios, a rare visitant of Cupar.
The Tay and the Forth will furnish him with the Picuro-
nectes Rhombus, the Sahno eriox, and the Cyctdfiterus Mon-
tagui. On the shores he may pick up the following shells:
Cacum (Dentalium) imfierforatum &nA glabrum, and Turbo
cingillua, and if he is in search of the Crustacea and Radi-
ata, the Pandalus Montagul, and the Ofihiura aculiata will
reward his exertions.

2. Civil History. — The county of Fife at a former period
appears to have been of great extent, and to have included
the county of Kinross, and part of Clackmannan. The whole
district was known by the name of Ross, or the peninsula,
and hence Culross signified the lower part of the peninsu-
la, Kinross the head of the peninsula, and Muckross, now
Fifeness, the snout of the peninsula. The last division
may have obtained its name from the number of wild boars
which infested that promontory. At present the county is
divided into sixty-one parishes, distributed into four pres-
byteries, which meet at their respective seats, St Andrews,
Cupar, Kirkcaldy, and Dunfermline. These four presbyte-
ries constitute the provincial synod of Fife, which meets at
Cupar and Kirkcaldy alternately, and occasionally at St
Andrew's and Dunfermline. The county is also divided
into four districts for regulating the police, and transacting
county business, which are called by the same names, and
comprehend the same parishes as the four presbyteries
which we have mentioned. The proceedings of these
district meetings are reported to the annual general meet-
ing at Cupar, the head burgh of the shire.

The property of the county of Fife is very much dividec
among the proprietors, and is held by different tenures.
Generally the lands hold blench and feu of the crown,
sometimes of a subject superior, and in inany instances of
individual proprietors, these last occupiers being termed

• We are happy in having it in our power to enrol this plant as an undoubted native of Scotland. Sir Robert Sibbald mentions it in his list
of Scottish plants without ailding a habitat, Prod, pail iv. page 41 ; and Lightfootj upon his authority, retai'-.s it with suspicion. It was found
in Furret Den, near Kilmanv, by a very keen and indefatigable botanist, Mr .\lexander Chalmers, surgeon, Kirkcaldy.

Vol. IX. Part. I. " G

F1FE8I11KK.

d. Scots.

93,535

126,013

87,664

56,260

feuars. Another class of lands, the property of the royal
burghs, is possessed by burgage holding, hut which is de-
creasing very fast, owing to the feus granted by corpora-
tions to private individuals. The valued rent of the coun-
ty is 363.464/. 13s. 4rf. Scots, proportioned among the dif-
ferent districts in the following nianner:

Crpar

Si Andrews

Kirkcaldy .

Dunfermline

The number of freeholders at present on the roll
amounts to 215. General Wemyss of Wemyss Castle is
at present the knight of the shire. In Fife, there are two
complete districts of burglis, each of which sends a mem-
ber to parliament, viz. one comprehending the burghs of
Dysart, Kirkcaldy, Kinghorn, and Burntisland; and the
other, Pittenweem, Easter and ^Vcster Anstruthers, Crail,
and Kilrenny. The burghs of Cupar and St Andrews are
united to Perth, Dundee, and Forfar; and Dunfermline and
Inverkeithing to Stirling, Quecnsferry, and Culross. Fife,
therefore, has in effect four representatives in parliament,
and consequently nearly the eleventh part of the whole re-
presentation of Scotland. Tliis, however, is no more than
her just share, being nearly in proportion to the valuation
and the amount of cess and land tax which are paid.

The population of the county in 1811, amounted to
52,061 males, 55,304 famales, making a total number of
107,365 souls. At a former period, the landward districts
must have contained a greater number of inhabitants than
at present ; as in travelling through the county, you fre-
quently meet with rows of ash tiees in the midst of culti-
vated fields, where formerly stood the hamlets of the pea-
santry. Even in the burghs on the shores of the Forth,
ruinous buildings every where present themselves, inti-
mating a former state of prosperity, to which, alas ! they
are now strangers. The active part of the population of
Fife, is engaged either in the pursuits of agriculture, ma-
nufactures, or fishing.

Four-fifths of the county are considered arable, and are at
present under the management of judicious and active
agriculturists. The farm-houses, which formerly were
mean in their appearance, and afforded little accommoda-
tion to the tenants, are now built of substantial materials, and
are both neat and convenient. The size of farms is very
various, but on an average may be considered as not ex-
ceeding 120 acres. The ordinary duration of a lease is
nineteen years. The rents are usually paid in money, and
in some cases in the produce of the farm. The inclosures
are chiefly formed with stone walls. Thorn hedges, which
beautify a country, and yield shelter and warmth to the
fields, are disliked by the farmer, on the supposition that
they harbour vermin, by which he means small birds. But
the same farmer who offers this objection, will not fail to
permit forty ortifty pairs of sparrows to hatch their young
under his roof in safety in spring, while he will blame the
hedges for yielding them shelter in autumn. The distinc-
tion between outfield and infield is at present scarcely
known in the country: and the high and crooked ridges
■which formerly prevailed, have been exchanged for a more
rational and productive mode of tillage. Summer fallow-
ing and green crops are universally adopted. It would be
impossible, without descending to particulars, to mention
the rotations of crops which are observed on the various
soils which here occur, rotations dictated by experience,
sometimes by example, and rarely by theory. The. crops
commonly cultivated are cate, of which there are many va-

rieties; barley, and in the colder parts bii^ ; wheat both red
and wliite, spring wheat seldom; rye on thin sandy soils;
beans, fuas, i/nd lares ; clover and rye grass ; potatoes, and
turnips lioth common and Swedish ; Jlax is raised in small
quantities, hemp is never at present even attempted. Al-
though there are a great many trees arountl tlie mansion-
houses of projirietors, there is still much ground in the
county fit only for planting, which is at present, compara-
tively speaking, useless. On many farms, there is not as
much wood as would make a gate. Farm yard dung is the
principal manure, and a straw yard is considered as one of
the most valuable appendages of farm offices. Lime is
universally used, and marl is employed in a few places. Even
the refuse of the ironstone mines at Dysart, has been found
a profitable manure to the sandy soils of that neighbourhood.
It consists of several varieties of bituminous shale and
slate clay, and was first applied to this useful purpose by
Mr Jameson of Dysart.

The fife breed of black cattle is esteemed profitable for
feeding, and for the dairy. They weigh from forty to fifty
stones, are usually of a black or brown colour, horns turn-
ed up, limbs short, and the body round. The cows give
from ten to fouiteen Scots pints of milk each day in Sum-
mer. The breed of horses was formerly very small, and
resembled the Highland garrons. But by the introduction
of stallions from other parts, the Fife horses are now fit for
the saddle and the draught. The native breed of sheep
was the common while-faced kind, or mountain sheep, of a
small size, with fine wool, which have been banished by the
introduction of the black-faced, or Linton breed, with
coarse wool, and of a wandering disposition ; or by sonic
of the improved cross breeds from England. The swine
are principally of the Highland kind, with arched backs, and
long bristles. Rabbits are protected in many places, and the
annual value of their skins probably exceeds six thousand
pounds. The number of pigeons in Fife is very great, the
pigeon cotes amounting to nearly three hundred.

As connected with the agriculture of the coimty, we may
mention that there are four distilleries, three of which pre-
pare whiskey for the home market, and the oiher for the
London trade. There are breweries in almost every vil-
lage, which supply the inhabitants with beer; and strong
ale is also compounded by some of the principal brewers.
The manufacture of linen, comprehending damasks, c\ia-
pers, checks, ticks, Osnaburghs, and Silesias, gives em-
ployment to a great number of weavers in the different towns
and villages. Salt is made in the neighbourhood of the great
coal-works on the Forth. The tanning of leather is perform-
ed in several places. Soap and candles are manufactured
in considerable quantity. Brick and tyle are made at Cupar,
Gair Bridge, Kirkcaldy, and Leven. Sulphuric acid is
prepared at Burntisland. Sliip-building is carried on as a
trade at Burntisland, Kirkcaldy, Scotscraig, and Anstruther.
In consequence of the great extent of sea-coast we may
expect a number of fishing villages, and presume that the
county is well supplied with fish. The case is so in reali-
ty. A number of fishermen in the towns on the coast, di-
rect their attention to the haddock and cod fishing, and, in
their season, catch herring. In the Tay there are exten-
sive salmon fishings, and in the spring, Sperlings, Salma
efierlanus, are obtained.

TheXounty of Fife is intersected by numerous roads, and
the materials for keeping them in repair are easily obtain-
ed. The more public roads, on which are erected turn-
pikes, are, with a few exceptions, in excellent condition ;
but the more private parish roads, in which the proprietors
aod farmers are materially interested, are in general bad,
and in winter nearly impassible. This fault may be fairly
charged upon the proprietors, who are too often onreless

FIF

about the management of the road-funds, and entrust the
repairs to those interested only about gain, all the while
seemiiigly not averse to the jolting which they often exjie-
rience. There arc few bridges deserving of particular no-
tice. The Gair Bridge over the Eden, consisting of six
arches, holds the first rank. It was built in the beginning
of the fifteenth century, by Henry Wardlaw, Bishop of St
Andrews. On tlie south coast there are several excellent
harbours, of which Burntisland is the safest and most com-
modious. At a moderate expence a harbour might be
constructed at Elie, which, from the depth of water, could
be taken at all times of the tide, and would prove a safe
retreat to the vessels navigating the Forth. In the Tay
there are several ports to which ships resort. The princi-
pal of these are Scotscraig, Woodhaven, and Newburgh.
The imports are chiefly wood, oak, bark, hides, flax, iron,
tar, and groceries. The exports are principally connected
with the coasting trade, and consist of coal, lime, grain, and
manufactured goods. The ships belonging to the county
may be estimated at twenty thousand tons. There are two
custom-houses, one at Kirkcaldy, and another at Anstruther.
The former has under its management all the ports be-
tween Aberdour and Largo, and the latter from Largo to
St Andrews. The trade on the Tay is under the inspection
of the custom-houses of Perth and Dundee.

There is a map of the county, published many years ago
by Ainslic, which is now become useless, from the chan-
ges which have takeri place in the situation of houses and
the alteration of ilie direction of the roads, in consequence
of the permanent features of nature, the hills and valleys,
springs, and rivulets, not having been attended to. Mr
Givan at Cupar is at present executing a new map of Fife,
which we expect will be free from those defects, which are
but too apparent in a great number of county plans. For
further particulars, the reader is referred to Sibbald's His-
tory of Fife and Kinrosn, 8vo, Cupar, 1803 ; and Thomson's
jigriciilture of Fife, 8vo, Edin. 1800.

FIFTEENTH Major, in Music (xv), is an interval, the
double of the major eight, or diapason, and thence often
called the bisdiapason, the disdiapason, the replicate of the
octave, and the quinzieme ; its ratio is i, =1224 2-t-24f-f-
106m, and its common log. =.3979400.0858.

Fifteen THiVfeor( 15th), is the octave of the minor eighth,
or the doubled minor eighth, as musicians improperly term
it, instead of its replicate; and it has the ratio ofi||,= l 1772
-f 23f-|-102m, and its common log. =.42 10638,0753.

Fifteenth Sto/i on the Organ, is a range of pipes in
large organs, which are each tuned a major fifteenth, or
double octave above the corresponding pipes in the diapason
stops. In accompanying choral parts in churches and con-
cert-rooms, this stop is generally used in conjunction with
the open and stop diapasons, tlie principal and the twelfth
stops.^ Ce)

FIFTH, in Music, is the numeral designation of an in-
terval, consisting of 5 diatonic degrees, including the low-
est and highest of these; but besides the intervals that can
properly come under this denomination, a wider range has
been improperly taken by various writers, in giving the
name of Fifth, usually with some prefix, to several differ-
ent intervals ; and mistakes therein can only be avoided by
the musical student, by taking the complete view of them,
thai we have endeavoured to present below, in alphabetical
order, viz.

Bearing- Fifth, or sometimes Redundant Fifth, of Hol-
der is an interval whose ratio is |i — 371.947096 S +
7f+ 32 m, and its common logarithm IZ.8 170693,1 641.

Comma-deficient Major Fifth (V'}, has the ratio
27 S''

— , —^T-^ — 347S -j- rf -}- 30 m, its log. = .8293037,7283,

= 567042 X VIII, = 31.639526 X c ; = V— c,n 3— /f ,
4-|-t, = VI— II,=:7— 3,=:T4- 2t-f S,=:2T-{-t-fL,
= 7/ + 16 t; + 12 2 ; =:2-4ths— 3rd ; by which last it
may be tuned on an organ, &.c. 'I'his interval has like-
wise been called tlic Grave Fifth by Maxwell and Listen,
the Less Fifth by Holder, and the Deficient Fifth, by Cham-
bers, Holder, &c.

729

Comma-deficient Minor Fifth (5'), has the ratio

- ^ ' 102'!

26 m, its log.r: 852,4275,7167,

300 2 + 6 f .

— 2»»' —

= .490228 X VIII, = 27.35340 Xc;=5 — c, = V--P,
=VIII — 3T, = 2 t + 2 S, =2 T-f2 L, = 2 3rds— 2 c, =
T-ft-}-S+L,= 2t-f 2L-f2c, = 26c-fl42-f 6 f, =
6 2^ -f 14^ -f 10 2; equal also to 4 4ths— 2 Vths, by
which it may be correctly tuned. This interval has also
been called the Ancient Semidiapenta, the Double Trihe-
mitone of some, 23>, 2 (2 S + ^), or 2 (^ -f S -}- g) ; the
Deficient Flat Fifth, the False Fifth of Bemetzrieder, the
Grave IMinor I'Tth of Listen, Sec.

Comma-7-edundant Major Fifth (V), has the ratio — ,
25 5 243

= -^ = 369 2'-<-7 f^. 32 m, its log. = .8185137,0905,

= .60288 1 X VIII, = 33.639526 Xc; = V-fc, = 5-t-P,
= 3 T + S, = 2 T -f t -f S, = T-f 2 t + L-F30, =7 ^ -H
18-(> + l4 2;=2V-f- 3—2 4ths, whence it may be tun-
ed. It is the acute major fifth of Maxwell and Listen, the
greater fifth of Holder, &c.

25
Comma-redundant Minor Fifth (S"), has the ratio ^^,
g3 36

= p-p, 322 2 -f- 6 f-f 28 m, its log.= .8416375,0790,

= .526068 X VIII, ^29.35340 Xc;rr5-f-c, = V— -f,
= 10th— VI,= 2T-t-2S, = 5^ -f lee-f 12 2; itis
the double minor third, or 2 3rds, by which means it may
be easily tuned. It is the tritonus. maximum of Euler, the
redundant fiat fifth of some writers, the greater diminished
fifth of Chladni, the imperfect fifth of Marsh, the acute
minor fifth of Maxwell, Listen, kc.

Comma-redundant Sharp (or su/ierJ!uoua) Fifth (dlV),
. . 256 23

us ratio IS — -,=: Tr-=*052-f-8f-f 35m, =.8007849,4209,
40j j"'.3

= .661776 X VIII, = 35.92566 X c ; = V-f g, = 5+2S,
= VI— L,= I4- V,= II-f IV, IX— 5,= XI— 7,= XII
— 8, =2 HI -f c,= 3T-)- t, = 5-t- t -f 2, = 2T-t- t -f S
+ %,ZZS f- -}- 19£) + 15 2; equal also to 4 V -f- HI
— 2V1H,= 2 V-flll— 2 4ths, by either of which last it
may be tuned. This interval is the minor comma defec-
tive major sixth, or VI — ().

Deficient Fifth of Chambers, Holder, Sec. ; its ratio is

= 347 S-f-7 f-f- 30. See Comma-deficient Major Fifth.

729

Deficient Fifth of other writers, has the ratio

1024*

=300 S-f6f-f26m. See Comma deficient Minor Fifth.
Diaschisma-defective 3'Iajor Fifth (V,,*) ; its ratio is
177,447 3^'
26Fr44'~~ 2^ = 346 2 -f 7 f -f 30 m, its common log. is

.8297938,7996,= 565417 X VIII, = 51.548683 X c ; =V
—A, = 5 -f 2— ^, = 5—/ — e, 5-I-2C — S,= 44-2L,
=5 L -f 2 P,= 4 i—h =T-f 2 t-t-3 S.=5 T-}-/-f r, = 7^
-f 16C; -f '1 2,= 30c-)-17 2-fr f. This interval is the
resulting, bearing, or wolf fifth, «'hen 11 perfect fifths are
tuned in succession, in 7 octaves, or = 7 VHI — 11 V ; and
7 4ths — 4 V: by either of which it may be tuned.

Diminished Fifth, the greater of Chladni. Its ratio is
25
;r7)— 322 S-f- 6 f-1- 28. See Comma-redundant Minor

Fifth.

G 2

FIF

Diminished Fifth, the least. Its

ratio is^— ,— 2rsS,

4-5 f + 24 m. See Extreme Flat Minor Fifth.

Diminished Fifth, the lesser of Ciiladni. Its ratio is

See Minor Fifth.

has the
log. =:

—,=1311 S+ 5f+ 27 m.
64

Double Comma-deficient Major Fifth (\'"),

ratio — ^, = -f-^, == 336 i; + 7 f + 29 m, its

5200 2'.5*

.8346988.0472, ZZ .549 121 X VIII, IZ: 30.63952 X c ; IT
V — 2 c, = 5 + i^ , = 3 t + S, = T -f 2 t + L, = 29 c +
17 S + 7t,rz 7 / -f. 13 <;' + 11 2 ; also eqiuil to 4 4lhs —
V — 2 3rds : By which means this interval may be tuned.
Double Comma redundant Shar/i Fifth, (ffV") ; its

— ■ • ' Z + 8 f + 36 m ; Its log. is

ratio is

6561' ~ 3
.7953899,1021, — .679696 X VIII, := 37.92564 X c ; := V

+ P,= 5+ S +P,=:5 + T-fs,=:4T, = 2IIl + 2c,

=:4P-f-4L, 36c+ 20S+ 8f,Zl8 ^-\-20£,+ 16 S; also

equal to 8 V — 4 VIII, zi 4 V — 4 4ths, by either of whieh

it may be tuned. This interval is also called the Double

Ditone, the Quadruple Major Tone, and the Supeifluous

Fifth of Bemetzrieder ; it is also the Schisma-excessive

Minor Sixth, or 6-fS, (6*).

• r 81
Double Sufierjiuoua Minor Fifth, has a ration ot -— ,

3*
— -5-, — 383 2 + 8 f-f33 m ; its log. is .8115750,0587,

=.625935 X VII, ZI 34.92566 X c ; ZZ5 +2^,ZlV + /,
— V-1-^— c,=:T-f3t,=33c+18 2+ S{,ZZ8 if +'''€
-f 13 S ; equal also to III + 2 4th — 2 3rds, by which it
may be tuned.

Equal-beating Fifths, are such as, when tuned in suc-
cession, beat equally quick ; of which there are a consider-
able number and variety. See the article EquAL Beating,
where the values of several of them are given, and a gene-
ral theorem, by which such fifths may be calculated in any
given case.

Extreme Diminished Fifth has the ratio |i|,= 275 S
-^- 5 f -f- 24 m. See Extreme Flat (minor) Fifth.

Extreme Flat (major) Fifth of Listen. ((jV), has the
ratio 11^31 lS + 5f+27 m. See Minor Fifth.

Extreme Flat (minor) Fifth of Liston, ( [7 5); has the

ratio — ^^ = 275 S + 5f + 24 m; its log. is
512 2^ I i . o

Z:. 8647631,0675, =1.4492328 X VIII, ZZ 25.06723 X c ;
—5—:f, — V—S—^, =zV—2 ,f _c, ziT + 3 S, ZI 4th
-ff,,ZZ 24 c + ll£-f 5 f,^5i^-fl4-e-fl0 2; it is also
equal to 6 + 4 — 2 III, or 1 1 — 3 III, by either of which it
may be tuned. This interval has also been called by some
the Diminished, and the Extreme Diminished Fifth, and
it is the Minimum Fifth of Henfling.

Extreme sharp (major) Fifth of Liston (j;^ V) : the ratio

is-^ZI — ZZ3942 + 8 f+34m; its log. is .8061799,7398,

rz. 6438566 X VIII, =: 35.92564 X c ; =:V-f Cf, =5+ S
+ ii,= 5 -f 2^ + c,=6— f,,=: VI— 2,zrVII— 3,=X
— 6, = VIII— b4th,zr2T + 2t,z:2T + t -f S-f ci',
=:4S.f2S+2Cf,=:54c-f202-i-Sf,z:8i^ + \s c
-f 14 2 ; it is also equal 2 VIII — 26th, = 2VI — 2 4t!i,= 2
V — 2 3rds, and zz 2 III, from any of which, but the last in
particular, it may be readily tuned. This interval has also
been called, the Tretratonon by Dr Callcot, the Super-
fluous (major) Fifth, by Tartini, Marsh, Chladni, &c. the
Sharp Fifth, the Redundant (major) Fifth of Liston; also,
the Double major Third, the least Sixth of Holder, the
Diesis Defective minor Sixth of Euler, and of the Trum-
pet scale (^'j). Mr F. Webb has lately said, that the ratio

of this interval, nearly corresponds with that of the diame-

. . 14

terot a semicircle to its arc, taken as — ,z: 3U9348463S-f

8 f+34 m : whereas the true diesis and arc, give 389.55534
2 + 8 f + 34 m.

False Fifth of Chambers and Bemetzrieder ; its ratio is

*!• IZ 3 1 1 2 -)- 6 f + 27 m. See the Minor Fifth.

False Minor Fifth, of the common trumpet scale (5'^) ;
itsratioisJ|.:^320.46U258 2:-f 6 I'-f 28m. lZ5th + 9.0460258
2 + m : and its com. log. zZ .8423921,4664.

Flat Fifth, of Overend, kc. (b V), has a ratio J-4,^31 1
2 -J- 6 f + 27m. Sec Minor Fifth.

Flat Fifth of Husscy and Webb, has the ratio -^jj,
ZT 314.947096 2 + 6 f -f- 27 m, and its common log. is
.84509080,4001 : it is also their lesser fifth, and the sharp
fourth of Holder.

Grfa?fr Fifth of Holder, has the ratio i|^,:z 369 S-f 7
f-|- 32ni. See Comma-redundant Major Fifth

Imjitrfect Fifth of Marsli, hi\s the ratio |
2-J-6 f -J- 28m. See Comma-redundant Minor Fifth

Isotonic Fifth, or Eyual-Ttmfierament Fifth, has the
ratio 1 -f ^ V 2, z: 357.0072072 2 + 7 f + 30 m, ZT 357 2
-1-7 f-f-30ijm,its loi<. is .824399 1,6920, = .jV VIII, = V
5 + L — .Jj i" ' ^"'^ '''^ length of string an-

If, = 322

—2— .fijm, ZZ , ,. .

sweriiig thereto, is .6674199. See Isotonic, and F,\rey's

EquAL Temperament.

Less, or Lesser Fi.th of Holder; its ratio is -j.,
2 -f 7 f -f 30m. See Comma-dejicirnt Major Fifth.

Lesser Fifth of Hussey and Webb. See their Flat
Fifth.

Alajor Fifth, (V) is a concord, that is very common-
ly denominated the Perfect Fifth, or simply the Fifth ; it
has the ratio of|, z:358 2 -f- 7 f + 31m ; its common log.
is .8239087,4094, ZT .5849626 X VIII, ZZ 32.639526 X c,
359.2913613 X2;=:5+S=I + 5,ZZ2 +IV,:3lI-f 4;
=6— 2,=:VII— Ill.iZiO— 3, = IX— VZZII— 7.z:XI —
VII,ZZl2— 8 : =4+ T,zZ4L+3 P,=:3T+L,zz2T
+ t + S,ZZ4S-f 2 S+S.ZZ4S +2S + .-/-f2€,= T
-fa t -f L-f 2c,iz31c-f 17 2 + 7f, ZZ7 / + 17^ -{-132 :
it is also = 3-1- III,z: VIII — 4,::z 10 — 6 =: X— VI, by
which its tune may be checked, and adjusted to the great-
est nicety.

This interval was anciently called the Pentachord ; tliC
Diapente of Holder, &c. ; the liypate prima of Henfling ;
the quint of Earl Stanhope ; and on account of its great
importance in the scale, the upper of its notes, above the
key-note, is very commonly called the Dominant. This
interval is heard in a very marked manner on the trumpet,
or a freely sounding string, owing to its numerous repli-
cates, ^, i, Jj, 2'-, Sec. that are usually heard in the higiier
octaves: it can be tuned, by the judgment of the ear, with
equal readiness, and with more accuracy than the octave
or unison, and being, (except its compliment the minor
fourth,) the only concordant or tunable interval, that be-
ing 12 times repeated, (and returning by octaves as often
as is necessary,) produces as many different notes, that are
not greatly difftrent nor equi-distant from each other, and
the last of such notes nearly coinciding with the octave of
the first ; on which account, it is the interval almost ex-
clusively used in the tuning of instruments. See Succes-
sion 0/ Fifths, and Temperament.

iV/o/'or Fifth of Hussey, has the rauo Jj^: 399.348463
2-j-8l'-j-34m, and its common log. :Z8037'J33. 5486.

Mean-tone Fifth, has the ratio 1 -t-'*.^5, ^355 2558968
2-|-7f+30m.ZZ355i2-}-7f-f-30-if; its log. is:Z 8252574,9892,
:z: V — Jc.zz i XVII ; this tempeied fifth, four times re-
peated, has the peculiar property of producing an exact
replicate of the Major Tliird, and gives the only system
that seems adapted to the tuning of the common organ ;

FIF

FIL

■32'

M. Loeschman likewise uses it, with excellent effect, in
tuning his patent enharmonic piano-fortes and organs, with
24 sounds in each octave.

Minimum Fifth of Henfling ; its ratio is |^|, := 275
2J.5 1+24 m. See Extreme Flat (minor) Fifth.

Minor YiYin (S) has the ratio |i, — ^^^= 311 + 6f-f

27 m; its log is .8470325,3979, =.5081467 X VIII, =
28.35340 X c ; =V— §, =4th-fS, =2 3— c, =z2 + 4, =:
V— I, =6— IT. =7— III,— 8— 4, rrVIII— IV, =9— V,
= 11— VII, =111+2 S,=:T + t+2S, =4S+S+cf,
=2S + 3S+0^ + 2€, =270+142 + 61, =6i4.l5t?+n
2 ; il is also =2 4th — III, by wliich it may be tuned. 1 his
interval was anciently called the Hemidiapente, or Semidi-
apenie ; it is the Tritonius of Euler, the False Fifth of
Chambers and Bemetzrieder, the Lesser Diminished Fifth
of Chladni, the Flat (major) Fifth, and the Extreme Flat
(majoi) Fiftli of Libton,([7V).

Minor-Comma excessive Major Fifth V,'); its ratio is

_»7J_ — L_^_ —368S+7f+32m,itslog. is .8190038,1619,

=.601255yxVlII,=33.34869XC, =V + ^, =5 + S, =2
+ 5. =6—1, =3— 111, =9— IV, =12— VII,=T+t + 3S,
=32c + 62 + 7f, =7^ + 18t; + 13S; it is also =3 4th—
2 III by which it may be tuned. It is the diminished (minor)
sixtii of Liston.

Redundant Jiat Fifth ( b V') of some writers, has the ratio
||,^3222 + 6l + 28m. Sec Comma-redundant Minor Fifth.

Redundant (Major) Fifth of Liston (i:f V) , its ratio is
jf, :r:394S+8f+34m. See Extreme shar/t (A/o/or) Fifth-

Redundant Fifth of Holder, has the ratio
371.y470962 + 7f+32'ii. See Bearing- FiTTH.

Schisma defective Major Fifth (V,), has the ratio 4rHf )

3^ 5
= —^, =3572+71+3 Im ; its log. is .8243988,4807,=

.583334XVIII, =32 54869XC ; =V— S, =5 + L, =VI—
2S, =111 + 3— S. =2t+3S, =31c+ 162 + 71', =7^ +
17£j+ 122 =5 4ihb — 2\' — III, by which means this ec[ual
temperament Fifth of Farey's system may be tuned. Its
length of string is .6674194, and aljove the tenor cliff c of
240 vibrations, it will beat flat .81202 per second.

S/tar/i {Major) Fifth (^V), has the ratio i|,= 3942 +
8f+34m. See Extreme S/iar/i (Major) Fifth.

Shar/i Fifth of Holder, has the ratio ./j, =390.529042
+ 8f+34m,and its log. :3.808 1 144,7376. The respectable
author above nam^d, has "not only been betrayed into the
admission of this unmusical ratio, but to the naming it also
his Deficient less sixth, aiid his Redundant great third, in
difl'erent parts of his Essay.

Successive Fifths, or the succession of fifths, implies
the order in which they arise, in modulation ; these, begin-
ning towards the lowest arc, according to Mr Liston, 6(7 [j,
Fb, Cb, Gb, Db, Ab ; Eb, Bb, F, C, G, D, A, E, B,
Ftf, Ctf , GJ* ; Di:f, A3, E«, Bi^, F«j$, Ci^^i^ ; who, at
page 24 ol his Essay on Perfect //i^o/m/'w;!, remarks, that
the six first and six last of the above, (leaving a chromatic
douzeave scale in the middle), are denominated extreme
Jiat or extreme sharp notes ; and so also are any other dou-
ble flat or double sliarp notes called, that may be produced
by further extending this series either way. If the fifths,
in the above seiies, are fierfect, they answer to tlie Tritle
progression oi \\\t ancients See that article.

Supcrjluous (major) Fifth of Tartini, Chladni, Marsh,

&c. has the ratio 7—= 394 2 + 8 f + 34 m. See Extreine

sharp, (major) Fifth (j^V.)

Superfluous Fifth of Bemetzrieder : its ratio is -— tt»
■* -^ . 6561

4096

= 4162+ 8f+36m; s«o Double- comma redundant eharfi
Fifth.

Temperaments of the Fifths: in regular tempered dou-
zeaves, eleven of the major fiftlis are each tempered by
one-fourth of the temp, of IlIrd — 2.75196562; and the
resulting, or wolf fifth, is tempered by 18.2637592 2 —
eleven-fourths of the temp, of the Ilird; and, at the same
time, eleven of its fifths are each tempered by 3.6692875S
— one-third of the temp, of the Vlth; and the resulting,
or wolf fifth, is tempered by eleven-thirds of the temp,
of the Vlth — 28.3542997 2 ; and further, whatever be the
temperament of each, of eleven of the fifths, the other,
or wolf-fifth, will be 12,00786242 — these eleven tempe-
raments of the Vths. See Mr Farey's musical theorems and
corollaries, in the Phil. Mag. vol. xxxvi. p. 39, and 374.

Triequal Fifths, or quints, of Earl Stanhope; there
are three successive tempered fifths, that are either equal
in magnitude, or that beat equally quick. See EquAL
Beating, and TRiEquAL Quint, (f)
FIGS. See Capuiucation.

FIGUERAS, is a town of Spain, in the province of
Catalonia, situated in a rich and cuUivated plain of great
extent. It has a parish church and two convents, one of
Cordeliers, and another of Capuchins, an hospital, and a
small garrison. The houses are not well built, but the
streets are wide, and there is a square with piazzas round
it. There are two tolerable inns in the town. A citadel was
built on a little eminence near Figueras, in the reign of
Ferdinand VI. at a great expence. It is called the castle
of St Ferdinand, and is exir.. mely magnificent, being rec-
koned one of the finest fortifications in Europe. The walls,
which are very thick, are of free stone ; the moats are deep
and wide, and the approaches are mined. The ramparts,
magazine, stables, cellars, caverns, and hospital, are de-
fended by a casement. It has the form of an irregular
pentagon, like the flaps of pointed pockets, and it stands
nearly in the middle of a great plain, which it can defend
on every side, serving as an entrenched camp for about
17,000 men. This place was, however, taken by the
i rench in 1796 ; and in the council room of the fortress are
still to be seen spots of ink, occasioned by the rage of an
officer who threw his pen against the wall when he heard
of the event. The walls have been whitened, but the ink
is still visible. The plain on which Figueras is situated,
is covered with fruit, wheat, rice, vegetables, flax and hemp.
Population 4U00. See Laborde's TifTO 5/ S/jo/m. (j)
FIGURE OF THE Eauth. See Astronomy.
FILE, a well-known steel instrument, having teeth on
the surface for cutting metal, ivory, wood, &c.

When the teeth of these instruments are formed by a flat
sharp-edged cliissel, extending across the surface, they arc
properly called fles ; but when the tooth is formed by a
sharp-pointed tool, in the form of a triangular pyramid,
they are termed rasps. The former are used for all the
metals harder than lead or tin ; and the latter for the
softer metals, ivory, bone, horn, and wood.

Files are divided into two varieties, from the form of
their teeth. When the teeth are a series of sharp edges,
raised by the flat chissel, appearing like parallel furrows,
either at right angles to the length of the file, or in an ob-
lique direction, the files are termed single cut. But when
these teeth are crossed by a second series of similar teeth,
they are said to be double cut. The first a;e fitted for bias-s
and copper, and are found to answer belter when the teeth
run in an oblique direction. Tlie latter are suited for the
harder metals, such as cast and wrought iron and steel.
Each tooth presents a sharp angle to the substance, which
penetrate the substance, while the single cut file would slip
over the surface of these metals. The doable cut file is less

FILE.

fit for filing brass and copper, since tlic tccih would be
very liable to be clogged witli tlie filings.

Files arc called by diflcieiit names, according to their
various degrees of fineness. Tliose of cxlreinc roughness
are called ruut;li ; the next to this is the haslard cul ; the
third is the accond cut ; the fourth the s?noot/i ; and the
finest of all the dead smooth. The very heavy square files
used for heavy smith- work, are sometimes a little coarser
than the rouffh ; they arc distinguished by the name oirub-
bers.

Files are also distinguished for their shape, ^%Jlat,half-
roiaid, tlircc -square, four-.itjuarc, and round. The first are
sometimes of uniform bre;ulUi and thickness throughout,
and sometimes tapering. The cross section is a parallelo-
gram. The half-round is generally tapering, one side be-
ing flat, and the other rounded ; the cross section is a seg-
ment of a circle, varying a little for different purposes, but
seldom equal to a semicircle. TUft three-square generally
consists of three equal sides, mostly tapering; those which
are not tapering are used for sharpening the teeth of saws.
The four-square has four equal sides, the section being a
square. These files are generally thickest in the middle,
as is the case with the smith's rubber. In the round file,
the section is a circle, and the file generally conical.

The heavy and coarser kind of files are made from the
inferior marks of blistered steel. That made from the
Russian iron, known by the name of old sable, and also
called from its mark CCND, is an excellent steel for files.
Some of the Swedish irons would doubtless make the best
file steel, but their high price would be objectionable for
heavy articles.

The steel intended for files is more highly converted than
for other purposes, to give the files proper hardness. It
should, however, be recollected, that if the hardness is not
accompanied with a certain degree of tenacity, the teeth of
the file break, and do but little service.

Small files are mostly made of cast steel, which would
be the best for all others, if it were not for its higher price.
It is much harder than the blistered steel, and from having
been in the fluid state, is entirely free from those seams
and loose parts so common to blistered steel, which is not
sounder than as it came from the iron forge before conver-
sion.

The smith's rubbers are generally forged in the common
smith's forge, from the converted bars, which are, for con-
venience, made square in the iron before they come into
this country. The files of lesser size are made from bars
or rods, drawn down from the blistered bars and the cast
ingots, and known by the name of tilted steel.

The file maker's forge consists of large bellows, with
coak as fuel. The anvil block, particularly at Sheffield, is
one large stone of millstone girt. This anvil is of consi-
derable size, set into and wedged fast in the stone. The
anvil has a projection at one end, with a hole to contain a
sharp-edged tool for cutting the files from the rods. It also
contains a deep groove for containing dies or bosses for
giving particular forms to the files.

The flat and square files are formed entirely by the ham-
mer. One man holds the hot bar, and strikes with a small
hammer. Another stands before the anvil with a two-hand-
ed hammer. "The latter is generally very heavy, with a
broad face for the large files. They both strike with such
truth as to make the surface smooth and flat, without what
is called hand-hammering. This arises from their great
experience in the same kind of work. The expedition ari-
sing from the same cause is not less remarkable.

The half-round files are made in a boss fastened into the
groove above-mentioned. The steel being drawn out, is

laid upon the rounded recess, and hammered till it fills the
die.

The three-sided files are formed similarly in a boss, the
recess of which consists of two sides, with the angle down-
wards. The steel is first drawn out square, and then placed
ill the boss with an angle downwards, so that the hammer
forms one side, and the boss two. The round files are
formed by a swage similar to those used by common
smiths, but a litllc conical.

The whole of the working part of the file is formed and
finished with the hammer before it is cut off from the rod.
The finished part is then held in tongs, and heated a second
time to form the tang of the file.

The very square shoulder formed by the tang of a file, ♦
docs not seem easy to form by the hammer. This is effec-
ted by first placing the file upon a sharp-edged tool, stand-
ing with its edge upwards in the anvil ; a notch is now
made on each side where the tang commences. It is then
brought to the fiont edge of the anvil, and, by an acquired
dexterity, the tang is drawn out without touching the shoul-
der with the hammer.

In order to prepare the files for cutting, they require to
have the surface perfectly metallic, smooth, and as even as
possible. The state, however, in which the files leave the
hammer, is too hard for the dressing and cutting. The
first thing to be done, therefore, after forging, is to soften
the files by a process called annealing. This was formerly,
and by many is still, performed by surrounding a close mass
of the files with coals, keeping up tlie fire till the whole
mass become red hot, and allowing them to cool gradually.
In this process the files become sot'tened, but the surface
becomes so oxidated, that a stratum of considerable thick-
ness peals off. This scale, however, is very hard, and is
removed but with difficulty. This last is not the greatest
evil attending this process ; the surface of the steel lying
immediately under the oxide, must have partly lost its pro-
perty of steel. Indeed it is now known, that, by a similar
process, steel, and even cast iron, can be converted into
pure iron. It will be obvious, that, by the oxidation which ^
takes place, the part which has to form the teeth of the file
will be much impaired by the abstraction of its carbon.
Hence it will forciby strike any one, that steel, particularly
in this instance, should be annealed in close vessels, to ex-
clude the oxigen. This has been accomplished to a par-
tial extent by some manufacturers, but still requires more
minute attention. The annealing should be performed in
troughs of fire-stone or fire-brick, similar to the cavities in
which steel is converted, having the flame of a furnace
playing on every side, and over the top. The trough should
be filled with alternate strata of the files to be annealed,
and coal-ashes, or the dust of the coaks, formed in the
forge-hearth. The upper stratum of files should be co-
vered with a thick stratum of the dust, and lastly with a
mixture of clay and sand. The heat should be kept up no
longer than till the mass will become red hot, quite through.
The whole must now be suffered to cool. When the files
are withdrawn, instead of being scaled as in the old me-
thod, they will exhibit a metallic surface, and the substance
will be much softer than by the common annealing.

It should be here observed, that the mass to be heated
should not be more tlian one foot in thickness, as it would ^
be so long in heating and cooling, that the metal would put ^
on the crystalline form, under which it is too brittle to form
a cutting edge.

We have before observed, that the steel requires high
conversion for files. This will evidently become unne-
cessary with this mode of anne.iling. The surface of the
files, which is the principal part, will become converted in

FILE.

an extra degree, by using more carbon in the annealing,
and thus make steel, of common conversion, sufficiently
hard for files.

Tlie next process is the preparation of the surface for the
teeth of the files. This, when it is done by means of filing,
as practised in Lancashire, is called strififiing. At Shef-
field, the surface of the file has no other preparation for
cutting than by grinding. This is done by machinery, and
at a trifling expence.

The great expedition with which the grinding of files is
performed, and the little attention paid by the workman,
who is totally unacquainted with every other department,
cannot insure that evenness of surface which is of so much
importance in the working of a file, and which is more suc-
cessfully performed by stripping.

The grinding-stone would require constant examination
to keep it sufficiently true for grinding an even surface,
except some additional machinery could be employed for
that purpose. This will doubtless be some time or other
accomplished.

In the present state of the file manufacture, the larger
files must be prepared on the present plan, and must re-
main imperfect for want of the surface being even. If this
is not the case before the file is cut, it will, on using, be
found to touch the surface to be filed only in a few points,
instead of the whole of the teeth touching at once. It is
in this particular that the Lancashire files have so much
surpassed those made at Sheffield and Birmingham. The
first are prepared solely by stripping ; and, in consequence,
their trade is confined to the small cast-steel files, for which
they easily get a price double that of similar Sheffield files.
When the manufacturers of the latter are told that it is in
this particular that they are defective, it seems wonderful
that they do not either adopt some process analogous to
stripping, or contrive some machinery to grind them more
exactly.

The stones used at present for grinding files, are of
■sharp gritstone, and of considerable size, for the large files,
from four to five feet in diameter. They wear them down
to about 30 inches, and then sell them to the fork -grinders.
The grinder sits so as to lean over the stone, which turns
directly from him, and presses on the file with both hands.
The files are now transmitted to the cutter. The expedi-
tion and exactness with which the teeth of files are cut, is
not surpassed by any mechanical art, depending like it
solely upon human dexterity.

The file cutter requires an anvil of a size great or less,
proportioned to the size of his files, with a face as even and
flat as possible. The hanmiers are from one to five or six
pounds. His chissels are a little broader than the file,
sharpened to an angle of about 20 degrees. The length
is sufficient to be held fast between the finger and thumb,
and of strength sufiicient not to bend with the strokes of
the hammer, the magnitude of which may be best con-
ceived by the depth of the impression. The anvil is placed
in the face of a strong wooden post, to which a wooden seat
is attached a small distance below the level of the anvil's
face. The file is first laid on the bare anvii, one end pro-
jecting over the front, and the other over the back edge of
the same. A leather strap now goes over each end of the
file, and passes down on each side the block to the work-
man's feet, v/hich, being put into the strap on each side,
like a stirrup, holds the file firmly upon the anvil, while it
is cut. While the point of the file is cutting, the strap
passes over one part of the file only, while the point rests
upon the anvil, and the tang upon a prop on the otiier side
of the strap. When one side of the file is single cut, a
fine file is run slightly over the tectli, to take away the
roughness, when they are to be double cut, and another

set of teeth are cut, crossing the formernearly at right an-
gles. The file is now finished on one side, and it is evi-
dent that the cut side cannot be laid upon the bare anvil to
cut the other. A flat piece of an alloy of lead and tin is
interposed between the toothed surface and the anvil, while
the other side is cut, which completely preserves the side
already cut. Similar pieces of lead and tin, with angular
and rounded grooves, are used for cutting three-square and
half-round files.

Rasps are cut precisely in the same way, using a trian-
gular punch instead of a flat chissel. The great art in
cutting a rasp is, to place every new tooth opposite to a
vacancy as much as possible.

Although smooth files have many more teeth, they are
not proportionate in labour; since more strokes can be
made in the same time, as they are of less magnitude. In
cutting a flat side, about J inch broad, of the bastard cut
fineness, a quick workman will make about 300 strokes,
and as many teeth in one minute.

The smaller files are generally cut by women and chil-
dren, who very soon acquire great dexterity.

The file-cutter, whatever may be the degree of fineness
of the file, depends much more upon his feeling than his
eyes. Indeed their eyes are frequently directed to other
objects while the chissel and the hammer are going at the
full rate.

When one tooth is formed, the edge of the chissel and
the surface of the file being both very smooth, the former
is pushed up against the back of the first tootli, which can
be much better felt than seen. By this succession of stroke
and motion of the chissel, to feel the last tooth, the work is
performed, although the eye is at a considerable distance
from the work.

When the files are cut, the next process is to harden
them. This is effected by heating them to redness, and
quenching them in cold water. Some previous steps are
taken to prevent the action of the oxygen of the atmosphere
upon the file when red hot, and a peculiar manner of im-
mersing the file in the water, which we shall more parti-
cularly dwell upon.

The preparing process has been improved within these
ten years, so far as regards economy. The files were, be-
fore that time, first smeared with the residuum of ale bar-
rels, commonly called ale grounds, and then covered over
with common salt in powder, whicli was retained merely
by the adhesive nature of the ale grounds. They were now
dried before the fire. The files were now taken once or
twice and heated in a smith's fire, made of small coaks,
frequently moving the file backward and forward, in order
to heat it uniformly red hot. At this period the file gives
off a white vapour from the surface, which is the salt in
the act of subliming. The surface appears at the same
time covered viixh the salt in a liquid state, which, like a
varnish, preserves tiie surface from the oxygen of the at-
mosphere, during the time it is red hot. The file is now
held in a perpenclicular position, and the immersion in the
water commences at the point, slowly depressing it up to
the tang, which should not be hardened. All files are dip-
ped in a perpendicular direction. Those, however, which
have a round side and a flat one, are moved also in a hoi'i-
zor.tal direction, with tlie round side foremost. Without
this precaution, files of this shape would warp towards the
round side. Tliis arises from the flat side naving been
n)ore hammered than the round side, which is formed by
the concave die, and does not acquire the same density
which the hammer gives.

It is common after hardening to temper most cutting
instruments. Files, however, arc never tempered at ail by
the maker. Nor any but rough and the bc^stard-cut files

1 IL

FJL

tempered by those who use them. If tlicsc were not in
some cases tempered, the ponils of the teeth would break,
and the file would do but little service.

When files are hardened, they are brushed with water
and coak-dust. The surface becomes of a whitish-grey
coloui', as perfectly free from oxidation as before it was
healed.

In applying the salt as above directed, a very great pro-
portion of it is rubbed off into the fire and is lost. The
consumption of salt used in this manufacture at Sheffield
alone, amounted to about 1000/. annually. The economy
with which it is now used, haS reduced this quantity to less
than 3Q0/. This saving is effected by mixing ale grounds
and the salt together, the salt being in such proportion as
just to he taken up by the aqueous part of the grounds,
which should not exceed 3 1b. of salt to 1 gallon of a/c
grounds. The files require only to be smeared thinly
with the mixture, which, when dry, adheres fiimly to the
surface, till the salt fuses. The n)anner of heating files for
hardening has been also improved. Instead of putting the
files singly into a coak fire, a fire-]jlace or oven is formed,
into which the blast enters. Two iron bearers are placed
on the upper part of the cavity to support a number of
files at once ; these are heating gradually while the work-
man continues to select the hottest, and in a hotter part of
the fire gives them the full degree of heat required for
dipping them into the water.

Some manufacturers pretend to possess secrets for har-
dening, by introducing diflerent substances into water,
such as sulphuric and muriatic acid. The quantities, how-
ever, are so small, that if those bodies could be shown to
possess any such qualities, the effect must be trifling.

The only means which can be employed to increase the
hardness of files, is by more highly carbonating the surface

of the file. 'Ihis may he efTected in a very simple manner.
No more is necessary for this purpose than to introduce
some animal carbon in fine powder into the hardening com-
position abf)ve mentioned. This carbon may best be ob-
tained from the refuse leather of shoemakers and curriers.
They should be introduced into a vessel of east or wrought
iron, leaving only one small opening for the escape of va-
pour. The vessel being surrounded by a fire capable of
lieaiing tlie vessel red hotj the heat must be kept up till
no more vapour escapes; the hole must then be closed,
and the whole suffered to cool. The contents of the vessel
will be found to be a hard shining coal, which, being re-
duced to powder, will be fit to mix witii the composition.
As a proof of the efficacy of this substance in giving great-
er hardness to the files, if a file be made of iron, and cut
in the usual way, by covering it with a mixture of the salt,
ale grounds, and powdered carbon, heating it red hot, and
quenching it in cold water, the surface will become per-
fectly hard, and files may be made in this way, which, at
the same time that they will bend into different forms, are
hard enough to file wood, stone, and even metals.

Some have attempted to facilitate the manufacture of
files, by cutting the teeth by a machine, Mr Nicholson
the journalist took out a patent for this purpose. Tiie
most certain proof, however, that the saving is not very > '«
great, is that, to the best of our knowledge, there is not ;^
any such machine in use. A great difficulty would arise*
from the great variety of files, in point of shape and size,
which would require the magnitude of the stroke to be
so constantly varied, that it would either require a great
number of machines, or require them to be too compli-
cated. But the great objection is said to be in the imper-
fection of the tooth raised by the machine, (c. s.)

FILICES, OR FERNS,

One of the great natural series of plants included with
the Musci, Hefiatke, Lichenes, Coriferva, &c. in the Cryp-
TOGAMiA of Linnaeus, and Aootyledones of Jussieu.
The writers on these -plants have differed widely in their
opinions as to the etymology of the word Jitices. Ains-
worth derives ^/;jr, the name used by Pliny, horn Jilum
yuasi Jilatim incises; but Ainsworth was no naturalist : even
the roots of these plants have no more resemblance iojiturn,
" a thread," than those of other plants. It seems far more
probable that the latter name is derived axo rm (pvx>,m
(foliis) ; the leaves or fronds of the European ferns being
alone visible, as the stems and roots are either hid under
ground, or decayed leaves, mosses, 'kc.

I. On the Germination of the Seeds, and Physical Eco-
nomy of Ferns.

In describing the peculiarities in the structure of the
embryo and manner of germinating of the seeds of these
plants, it is necessary, for the sake of perspicuity, to pre-
sent a general comparative view of the analogous parts of
the embryo in dicotyledonous plants. For, as to the sup-
posed monocotylcdones, it will scarcely be credited, that
in them naturalists have not hitherto determined with pre-
cision, to which part of the embryo the term cotyledon
ought with propriety to be applied. In fact, there is every
reason to conclude, that no organ whatever, strictly analo-
gous with the true cot)ledon, exists in the seeds of 'he hi-

thereto supposed monocotyledonous series ; although all of
them are, independent of this, sufficiently distinguished by
the peculiarities of their respective organization. It is
therefore in the seed-lobes of the -.veil known dicotyledones,
that we find the true types of the real cotyledons; and, by
comparing these with the organs of the embryo in other
germinating seeds, and especially observing the purposes
to which they are destined in the economy of this interest-
ing process, that we are enabled to determine, with accu-
racy, their true nature. It was with this view that the ex-
periments of Lindsay, who, it will be recollected, first
called the attention of naturalists to the germination of
ferns,* were lately repeated by the author of the present
observations.

Gaertner, to whom the greatest obligation is due in many
respects, has denied the existence of cotyledons in these
plants, asserting that the testa of the seed is in them, as
well as in those of Musci and Fuci, totally occupied with
■vitellus, an organ to which he has ascribed a distinct cha-
racter. Lindsay has described this part as appearing of
an irregular form; which is indeed sufficiently expressed
in his Figures (8. 9. 10. 11. PI. II.) ut sufira. But, after
repeated observations on the germinating seeds of various
genera, this supposed irregularity has never once occurred
to us; indeed, anomalies of this kind, so far as we know,
never do occur in the figure of the embryo, in tiie same
natural series; in which, with certai.i shades of difference,
the characteristic structure of the kindred tribes invariably

* Transactions of the linnxan Society, vol. ii.

FILICESJ

exists. Without, however, impeaching the accuracy of
Lindsay, may not the evident incongruity of liis figures
viih each other be explained, by supposing the engravings
to have been executed during his absence in the West In-
dies, froui which the original drawings, now in the posses-
sion of Dr \Viight of Edinburgh, were sent?

Erhart, whose observations vvcre made on two species
o( jis/iidium and one At/njriu7n only, coincides with Lind-
say in representing but one lobe in the embiyo.* But tlie
figure of the embryo, as observed by Sprengel, is describ-
ed with much more accuracy than by either of these wri-
ters, although he had an opportunity of seeing only a sin-
gle species, the Athyrium Jilix famina, in a state ol spon-
taneous germination.! Having, however, had the good
fortune to observe, from its commencement, the germina-
ting process, in several species belonging to genera so
clearly distinct, that they must be considei:cd as belonging
to different tribes, namely, the Polytiodiacex, ylsfUe7iiacete,
and Pteridex; and having traced the embryo from becom-
ing visible as a dark green point, to its gradual expansion
and final evolution as a perfect plant, we have succeeded
so far in determining with precision the figure and man-
ner of growth of their various organs, which are here deli-
neated by the accurate pencil of Mr Syme, during what
may be termed the Jirst and second periods of the exis-
tence of this singular race.

First Period.

Plate CCLIV. Fig. L Represents the seed-lobes some-
what magnified, soon after becoming visible to the naked
eye.

Fig. 2. The same highly magnified and reversed, to
shew its under side, with the mould adhering to the cen-
tral fibrils.

Second Period.

Fig. 3. Represents the firs: frond evolving from the
circular opening in the centre of the lobes, of the natural
size. The circular opening is formed by the elevation
merely of the central margin of the lobes, by the germi-
nating frond.

Fig. 4. The seed-lobes reversed, to shew the true root.

Fig. 5. The lobes cutoff to shew the tuberous swelling
of the young stem, with the young frond and root germi-
nating from it.

Fig. 6. Shews the young plant with a second frond evol-
ving from the same part.

As to the difi'erence asserted by Gaertner to subsist be-
tween the vitellus and cotyledon, having examined this sup-
posed organ, and compared it with his own recorded cha-
racter, " rjuod non extra seminis testam efferatur, aut in fo-
lium excrescat, sicuti cotyledones faccre solent" Ecc.:f, we
are enabled to correct the error of this generally accurate
observer. These lobes, in ferns at least, so far from re-
maining within the testa of the seed, gradually expand,
from an apparent point to the diameter, in general in-
stances, of above a quarter of an inch. This is not the
only case in which it is to be regretted that Gaertner sliould
have confined his observations to the fii'st period only of
the germinating process; duruig wliich, the peculiarities
in the structure of the embryo ate seldom fully developed.
If, therefore, mere terms, of which there are already too
many, do not usurp the place of things, the seed-lobes of
ferns :ftv>isess not only an analogy with, but in fact partake
of, the essential properties of cotyledons, so far as these
have been accurately defined. 1st, They constitute the
body of their minute seeds. 2d, They include within their
substance the other organs of the embryo, which they nou-

* Beytrage zur Naturkunde, iii. TS.
t Jinieit. (Ti-ansl. 1807, Lond.) PI. II. Fig. 17,

Vol. IX. Part L

rish, and, under the necessary circumstances, finally deve-
lope. 3d, As in the dicotyledonous seeds, these other or-
gans germinate from a tuber situated in the centre of the
lobes.

Yet notwithstanding this generaK congruity with dico-
tyledonous plants, ferns, both in the structure of their em-
bryo and manner of germinating, possess characters clear-
ly distinguishing them from all other plants hitherto de-
scribed.

1st, In other dicotyledonous plants, the seed-lobes, at
least such as rise to the surface, are afterwards farther
elevated by the growth of the young stem ; but this can-
not happen in ferns, whose seed-lobes, less perfectly di-
vided, and, expanding horizontally only, attain their full
growth before the devclopenient of the other parts of their
embryo.

2d, In other dicotyledonous plants, on the contrary, the
root immediately germinating, contributes towards the
evolution of the other organs of the embryo, and recipro-
cally, even to the expansion of the cotyledons themselves;
wheieas in ferns, previous to the shooting of the true root>
the seed-lobes are nourished by minute fibrils, invisible to
the naked' eye, shooting from around the centre of the
seed-lobes, and adhering to the soft mould in the crevices
of moist rocks, where they frequently germinate. In this
state, these plants, like the larvae of many insects, have no
similarity whatever to their future form, and must have
been generally mistaken for young Hepaticx, which, both
in appearance and manner of growth, they somewhat re-
semble.

3d, In the seed-lobes of dicotyledonous plants, the ves-
sels conveying the green juice towards the other organs of
the embryo appear elegantly ramified, distinct from the
deeper green of the cellular substance ; whereas in ferns,
on the contrary, the lobes of the cotyledon, when examined
by the microscope, seem to consist entirely of a network of
deep green cellular substance, without the least vestige
of ramified vessels.

By these peculiarities, then, the true ferns are charac-
terised with much more precision, than by the circinate"
involution of their fronds; a form of vernation which is
common to them, with certain kindred tribes, such as the
Botryc/iiacea, Cycadacea, Lycojiodiaceie, and Marsiliacex,
as we shall afterwards find.

II. Of the develofiement and peculiar Structure of the
Stem of Ferns.

Although, therefore, the filices, in the organs of their
embryo, possess a certain degree of analogy with dicoty-
ledonous plants, this analogy diminishes as the process
of germination advances. On cutting across the stem of
dicotyledonous trees at the end of the first summer, three
distinct parts are manifest ; the bark enveloping the whole,
a thin circle of wood immediately under it, and in the cen-
tre a great proportion of spongy cellular matter. The
young stem thus formed resembles a cone, whose summit
is terminated by a bud. During the succeeding seasons,
the stem preserves its original shape, only the summit of
the cone is extended, and its diameter enlarged ; and on
cutting it across now, we find the proportion of wood great-
ly increased, and that of the central spongy matter dimi-
nished, while it is horizontally radiated throueh the wood
towards the circumference of the section. The origin of
branches in these trees, is effected precisely in a similar
manner, A lateral bud is evolved from the bark, whose

i De Fructitius et Seniin. Plantar. — Pijef. 147.

FILICES.

centre is produced from the radiated cellular matter of the
triinU, siiirounded with spiral sap-vessels; and a cone of
wood is in like manner formed around it, whose base, du-
ring the first season, is i^radually encircled by a layer of
the contemporaneous 'malcrnal wood.

Duiini!; the second year, lliercfore, the base of the
young shoot can receive no addition to ils proper diame-
ter, except wlicre it is unencumbered by the wood of the
trunk : so that at its origin, a branch resembles the svnnr.iit
of an inverted cone, enveloped by the circles of maternal
wood.

As to the order of the developemcnt of the various
parts of the stem, Malpighi supposeil, that tlie internal cir-
cles of bark were subsequently condensed into wood ; while
Grew concluded, that the young vvootl was elaborated by
the bark.

But the well-devised experiment of Duhamel demon-
strated, that the bark itself, as well as the young wood, de-
rive their origin from the gelatinous part of the sap, (the
cambium,) exuding from the central and radiated cellular
substance, in which new sap-vessels are developed annual-
ly during the season. The experiment of Duhamel al-
luded to, consisted in removing completely the" bark of a
cherry-tree, from the trunk of which he afterwards ob-
served the sap oozing, and forming a new bark, under
which new circles of wood were afterwards formed.

We are aware, that the accuracy of this experiment has
been lately called in question by Palisot de ^Jeauvois, in a
memoir read before the Institute of !■' ranee, nvho observes,
that when a portion of the bark of a tree is removed, and
the part from which it is taken is well rubbed, so as to
leave no remains either of bark or cambium, neither the
young nor old wood produce any thing, but that the edges
of the divided bark extending over the bare wood then
produce new wood, which unquestionably is derived from
the former bark.

But it does not seem that this experiment of M. de
Beauvois invalidates the truth of M. Duhamel's conclu-
sion ; on tlie contrary, it is perfectly reconcilable with it.
The efforts of nature are by no means limited to one mode
of effecting her purpose. In fact, in both experiments
the bark was formed from the cambium, from which the
bark first, and subsequently the new wood, derive their
origin; but in De Beauvois's experiment, the cambium
oozed from the trunk covered with the remaining bai k ;
whereas in Duhamel's, it necessarily exuded from the bare
trunk.

It ought to be mentioned to the credit of Maipighi, that
Duhamel's experiment partly confirmed the sagacity of his
opinion, " Conquitur itaque in horizontalibus utriculis et
medulla ipsa succus, ut futuris et proxime erupturis gem-
mis, et tenellis foliis Prgesto sit."* For it is evident that
the increased diameter and elongation of these plants de-
pend on the same cause, viz. the annual expansive mo-
tion of the sap in the lymphatic vessels and cellular sub-
stance of the stem, and the subsequent formation and con-
densation of both into bark and wood, assimilated proba-
bly by the proper juices of the respective plants, prepared
by the leaves, and distributed through the descending ves-
sels.

From this general view of the manner of growth and
organization of the stems of dicotyledonous trees, we
shall perceive how remarkably they differ in both from
ferns.

The second fieriod of the growth of these plants may be
said to commence, when the seminal lobes, having attain-
ed their full size, a circular opening appears at the point

of their union, in the centre of which the first frond may
be perceived in that state of involution which is commoii
to ferns with other kindred tribes. Even at this early pe-
riod, the frond is at once distinguished from the scinmal
lobes. It is of a paler green colour, and with the stipes
of a triangular form, in several species resembling the let-
ter r, (Plate CCLIV. Figs. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ) and, with the
microscope, vessels may be seen elegantly ramified, di-
verging from the central stipes in every dircctior,; where-
as, in the seminal lobes, which are cellular and of a darker
green hue, no ramified vessels can be distinguished. The
temporary fibrous radicles of the seminal lobes, as well as
themselves, now no longer of use, begin to fade, and their
dark green sap being evidently absorbed for the nutrition
of the young plant, from the tuberous stem of which the
true root now descends exactly as in dicotyledonous plants.
A second Irond is soon perceived shooting from the axil
of the first, and opposite to it, but with an additional lobe.
In the same manner the fronds are thus evolved one after
another, with a gradual addition to the number of lobes ;
the stem, during this period, acquiring only a slight addi-
tion of diameter, without any perceptible increase of length.
Another circumstance to be remarked in the economy of
these plants, is, that even during the second year, the stems,
at- least of the native European species, frequently germi-
nating in the crevices of our sandstone cliffs and Gothic
ruins, are very far from attaining their utmost diameter.
It is no doubt probable, that the slow growth of these
plants must be greatly influenced by their situation and
soil, as well as by the temperature of our northern cli-
mate, but ill adapted to foster the growth of plants, which
only attain their full perfection in the luxuriant forests of
the tropics. Were it, however, admissible, under cir-
cumstances where observations are greatly deficient, to
derive the grounds of probability from analogy, it is pro-
bable, that even under circumstances the most favoura-
ble, ferns do not attain their utmost diameter during seve-
ral successive seasons; and it would seem that these plants
possess a singular analogy with palms, in this and other
respects.

Both Kaempfer and Daubenton have remarked, that the
Flixnir, or date-palm, and others of this seiies, require se-
veral years before they acquire their utmost diameter ;
and that previous to this period, their stems do not begin
to elongate, nor do their fronds acquire their perfect form
and size. Now, in all these circumstances, they greatly
resemble ferns. We know it has been frequently alleged,
that certain species of ferns are stemless; an opinion coun-
tenanced by Sprengel, who observes, that " in this case the
fronds issue from the tuber or root;" but having closely
examined this supposed root, in the Davailia Canaritnsis,
Polypodium aureum, and other species asserted to be stem-
less, we found that they possessed the structure and all
other properties of procumbent stems, detaching at inter-
vals proper fibrous roots, and diverging branches, and like
the arborescent species, producing fronds from the nume-
rous buds at the extremity. Whether certain species,
however, are altogether destitute of stems, it is impossible
to determine with certainty; but such a circumstance is
very improbable, and it is far more likely that such as are
thus figured by Piumier and others, are plants in the se-
cond period of their growth, whose elongation had^^t yet
commenced. It is certain, however, that the smallest of
our native species possess real, though very short stems.

These prostrate species form a singular contrast with
those of the upright arborescent ferns. The Cyathea arbo-
rca, C. asjiera, and other erect species, rival in magnifi-

Anaiom. Plant, passim, et de Camlicis Jugmeulo, p. 20.

FILICES.

cfence the most lofty of the palms ; yet, in the economy of
their reproduction, these humble species certainly surpass
them, being much more prolific in buds.

When tiic stems of these plants have attained their ut-
«iost diameter, they may be said to have arrived at puberty.
The t/iird ficriod of their tjrowth commences. The stem
now gradually elongates, but except where it ramifies, in-
variably in a direction parrcllel with the axis of the great
vascular fasciculi; and Sprengel is incorrect in supposing
the buds of the tuberous stem to be involute or circinatc,
like those of the fronds which germinate from it. These,
in fact, consist of a round tuberous substance, of the same
structure from the beginning as the maternal stem, exten-
ding longitudinally only.

The ridiculous fable of the old compilers of herbals,
concerning the Baromez or Tartarian sheep, was long ago
shewn by Linnaeus to have originated from the singularap-
pearance of the tuber of a species of fern {^Anjiidium Ba-
romeZ) Willd. Sfi. Plant. \ 10) covered with the brown woolly
scales, common to many of these plants. It is certain, how-
ever, that the numerous ramificationsof the prostrate stems,
inust necessarily prevent the growth of neighbouring
plants, although they do not actually devour them lilie this
chimerical sheep of the Tartars.

From the extreme slowness with which both ferns and
palms arrive at an adult state, may we not presume that
both partake of that longevity which it is well known palms
possess, individuals of which are known to have existed
above a century? With respect to ferns, indeed, few of
which are necessary to the wants of mankind, no observa-
tions, as to this circumstance, are recorded.

In tracing the organization of the stem of these plants,
the accuracy of Malpighi is again manifested ; for, to this
excellent observer, we owe the first notice of their general
Structure. In a figure of a horizontal section of the stem
of a fern, he exhibits the distinct fasciculi of spiral vessels,
surrounded with cellular matter, " Dispersis," he ob-
serves, ''fibrosis fasciculis, et spiralibus fistulis compagina-
tur, ambientibus hinc inde, utriculorum seriebus."

Ol modern naturalists, Sprengel has given by far the
best view of the structure of the stem of these plants, ac-
companied with figures highly magnified, of the central
fasciculi of Malpighi. But however valuable an analysis
of these parts be when thus exhibited, we have preferred
an illustration of the general structure of the stem itself,
as it appears when attentively examined by the naked eye,
as affurding a more correct outline, not only of the general
structure, but of the relation the several parts of the stem
bear to each other. Sometimes, indeed, it would seem,
that confusion is produced by too high a magnifying pow-
er; and the subject intended to be represented, is rather
obscured than clearly delineated, a circumstance which
seems well illustrated by the highly magnified view given by
Uesfontaines, of a transverse section of the stem of a fern,
in an excellent Memoir on the organization of monocoty-
ledonous plants.* In order to have the view of the parts
as distinct as possible, it is necessary to cut the stem across,
at a distance from the lateral buds.

Plate CCLIV. Fig. 7. represents a transverse section
of the creeping stem of As/iidium fil'tx man ; and Fig. 8.
a longitudinal section of that of Davallia canarinmis. In
tracing the origin of the buds of these plants, it is clear
that they originate from the cellular substance of the
centre swelling, and in a manner forcing the vascular fas-
ciculi to accompany them in a lateral direction.

Fig. 7. a, The exterior cellular substance, part of which,
in the stems of the great arborescent species, is externally

converted into a substance of the density of horn, which is
sometimes furnished with spines, but is, for the most part,
in young plants, covered with woolly scales, each of which
is furnished with a central fasciculus, probably vascular,
issuing from a pore in the surface of the stem. These
scales serve partly the purpose of bark, in protecting the
young shoots, and evidently prevent the evaporation of
the lluid part of the sweet juice which every where
envelopes the germs of the future fronds and stems,
which, in our northern climate, remain dormant du-
ring winter. The central cellular matter in ferns (Fig. 7. 6)
is not converted iiito wood, as in dicotyledonous trees, but
remains soft and spongy, in the stipitcs at least, till finally
absorbed during the ripening of the fruit. This substance
abounds with a similar saccharine juice, often accompanied
with an unpleasant astringency. The stem and the branch-
es of these plants are entirely cylindrical, unless acciden-
tally checked in their growth by reinovaNinto an unsuita-
ble soil, whereas the stem and branches of dicotyledonous
trees are invariably conical, tapering towards the extremity.
Fig. 7. and 8. c, The roots in the procumbent species,
issuing from the cellular substance, and descending into
the soil, from the under side of the stem, opposite the ger-
minating buds. Each of these shoots, therefore, when de-
tached, from so many distinct plants, possessing the full
diameter of the adult stem, and, like those mentioned by
Kaempfer, occasionally shooting in the saine manner, from
the stem of palms, attain speedily their perfect form. It
was, I believe, Micheli who first described the calyptres or
covers on the extremities of the roots in certain aquatic
.plants. Sprengel has observed these covers on the extre-
mities of the fibrous roots of ferns, and supposes tliem to
be organs of absorption, in some degree analogous with
the ampullae in the villous coat of the intestinal canal of
animals. To us, it would seem probable, however, that
these covers, like the chaffy scales of the stems and fronds,
are intended rather to protect the delicate extremities of
the absorbent roots, than to perform this office themselves.

III. Of the Fronds and fiarta of Fructificatiori of
Ferns.

The buds from which the fronds of these plants are
evolved, form part of the great central tuber from which
the stem itself is produced. This tuber, in our northern
climate, is found during winter, surrounded witli'the decay-
ed sti piles of the fronds of the preceding season, and close-
ly invested with the woolly scales already mentioned. In
examining these buds separately, we find that it is the su-
perior part or frond only which is involute, or circinate, as
it is termed : the stipes itself being extended nearly in a
straight line from its origin within the stem. In the ./Is/ii-
dium Jili.v ?nas, we have traced the diverging vascular fas-
ciculi within the stem, before the external developement of
the fronds ; and this appears evident in some species on
cutting it across, when the large central fasciculi of the
stem appear surrounded with the smaller ones of the sti-
pitcs of former years, (Fig. 7. rf). The reason these are
not perceptible in the section of the stem, represented in
Fig. 8. lit sv/ira, is, because it is diflicult to recognize them
in tilt young succulent stem, as distinct from tiie cellular
substance. The term Ugmtm fasciailatum, used by Dau-
benton and Dcsfont.dnes to designate the stems of monocoty-
ledonous plants, is in fact peculiarly applicable to the ma-
ture Item of ferns. For tiiese fasciculi may be seen even
by the naked eye, and traced from their first divergence
within the stem, to their final termination in the v?ins, as

• Jlemoires de rinstitut .Vaiional, torn. i. p. 478, by Uesfontaines.

FILICES.

ihey arc termed, ol the frond, in many instances in contact
with tlie groups of capsules.

Sprengel had the merit of first pointing out this circum-
stance ; and lie supposes " the vascular fasciculi contain
the concentrated sap, analogous with the proper juice of
other plants, which is chiboraled in the thick solid tubers
f)f ferns, from the humidity of the earth absorbed by the
roots. The oxygen of the carbonated water entering the
loose cellular texture, while the carbon, uniting with the
liydrogen, is conveyed into the ascending spiral vessels,
■where it contributes to the formation of the Iruit, while
the brown membrane surrounding the fasciculi, prevents
the admixture of the elaborated sap with the crude juice
of the cellular texture. — This construction," he adds,
" throws light on the peculiar origin of the stcd-vcsscls in
these plants, which takes place immediately from tlie ribs
<jf the frond, oi the continuation of the spiral vessels."

It is very probable, that the vascular fasciculi [lerform an
important office in the formation of the parts of fi uctitica-
tion in ferns ; but it is equally so, that the Ironds, like the
leaves of other plants, contribute their part in the assimi-
lation of the saccharine mucilage contained in the cellular
substance of the stem, which would seem destined, not on-
]y to the nutrition and evolution of the infant germs inva-
xiably imbedded in it, but to the developeinent of the fruit
"itself. What lenders this opinion more probable, is the
circumstance, that the abundance of the saccharine matter
increases or diminishes with the health or weakness of the
respective plants, and in the autumn after the ripening of
ilie seeds, it is exhausted, and the cellular matter itself
partly disappears, and the central part of the stipites is found
hollow. However, an abundant supply is deposited in the
stem for the use of the buds the following season. In
short, this saccharine mucilage seems to possess a remark-
able analogy with the cambium of Duhamel, from which,
in other plants, both buds and seeds are apparently develo-
ped, and subsequently nourished and perfected.

Although in by far the greater number of species the
huds are produced from the stem, there are many others,
as Poiy/iodium refitaiis, in which buds are evolved from the
top of the frond. Indeed in their general structure, the
stipites of the fronds possess a considerable analogy with
the branches of other plants; but they also combine with
this the properties of leaf and fruit-stalks. There are
however, some species, as Schizea dic/totoma of Smith, and
5. bifida of Willdenow, whose stipites are destitute of
frontiose expansions.

The fronds in the whole series are generally green, ex-
cept in the vmdei surface, which is white in one Jcrosiic/tum
and in Cyathea dealbata, and other species, whilst it is of a
teautiful yellow in AcroHtichum sutfihureiun.

The young buds both of tlie stem and fronds, are often
beset with scales or hairs, and sometimes this is the case
■with the under part of the expanded fronds. It is singular,
that Hedwig should have mistaken these hairs in the infant
ironds for anthers ; so very apt are men of the first talents
to hunt after analogies where none can possibly exist.

If we except the magnificent palms, no plan's are really
moie ornamental than ferns. To them, indeed, we are not
attracted by the fine colour or perfume of the iiower ; but,
even in our northern climate, there is a peculiar freshness
and beauty in the bright green hue of the arched frond and
elegantly divided pinnulse of the Brake and Polypody. No
plants are better adapted than these to adorn the sloping
bank of the clear and pebbly stream ; and their beauty in
such situations has not been overlooked by the fine taste
of one </f tlie first poets of our time :

Where the copsewood is the greenest>
Where the fountain glisten') sheenest.
Where the lady tern grows i-trongcst,
Where the morning dew lies longest.

The number of ramifications of the vascular fasciculi
difi'ers greatly in the numerous species. In the P. anreum,
a single branch turns at a right angle into the pinnulae ;
whereas in the more complicated frond of DavaUia cana-
riensis, and others of a like form, several ramifications ac-
company the respective subdivisions of the frond ; and to-
wards the end of autumn, in our native species, a skeleton
of the ligneous fasciculi can be dissected from the surround-
ing cellular matter, through the minute ramifications of
the frond, almost to their apparent termination in the groups
of capsules. In several species, these vessels swell at
their extremity into knobs ; a circumstance that gave rise
to the hypothesis of Bernhardi, wiio supposed lliem to be
the male organs ;* but, unfortunately for tliis hypothesis, it
has since been observed by Sprengel, that the supposed
organs are wanting in many species; but where they do
exist, he admits that the minute vermicular bodies contain-
ed within them are probably receptacles of the concentra-
ted juices of the veins, which, according to his own hypo-
thesis, perform the chief part in the process of fecundation.

Other parts in the frond have, however, bv various wrl- •
ters, been supposed to perform this important function, j^
Micheli, whose accuracy in other respects is well known, ^y
attributed the office of antherae to the capillary productions,
which he discovered on the unevolved fronds; and, as alrea-
dy observed, Hedwig adopted and illustrated this opinion,
(T/ieoria Gen. PI. Cryfif. tab. v. vii.) Cleichcn consider-
ed these organs to be situated in those minute fissures, on
the lower surface of the cuticle of the frond, which are
well illustrated by Sprengel (T. ii. fig. 14.) in his work on
cryptogainous plants; whilst Kolreuter assigned this of-
fice to that production of the cuticle of the frond, which,
in most of the tribes of ferns, forms the involucrum of the
groups of capsules. But leaving these various hypotheses
to their natural fate, it is full time to proceed to the consi-
deration of the capsules themselves.

The singular aspect of these plants, which every one ob-
served to spring up in wild and uncultivated places, without
any visible seeds, seems to have given rise, in an age of ge-
neral ignorance, to those superstitious fancies foimerly
prevalent in several pans of Europe. It was a practice
among the people to collect the capsules, which they consi-
dered as the seeds of ferns, on midsummer eve, and m.ake
use of them in various chaims. " We have the receipt of
fern seed," says Gadshill, in Shakspearc's Henry IV.
we walk invisible." In fact, the botanists of the sixteenth
century partook in the faith of the times. Valerius Cordus,
in his commentaries on Dioscorides, Tragus, and Baptista
Porta, ignorant of the existence of the capsules, all agreed,
that the powder found on the lower part of the frond produ-
ced plants. Cordus, however, contended, like some of the .
piesent time, that this powder could not be true seed, be-
cause the plants were destitute of flowers; and although
Morison long afterward (//;s<. PI- P. iii. sect. xiv. p. 593.)
observed and described the germinating plants of the Oi-
tmaida regatis, it is clear that he wiis unacquainted with the
seeas being contained in capsules. It is singular, that Mal-
pighi {Anat. Plant, p. 72. tab. 5!) Grew, (jnat. of Plant.
tab. 62) and Swammerdim, {Bibl. J\.''at^ should have disco-
vered the true nature of the fruit nearly at the same period.
These capsules have been traced by Sprengel and
Bernhardi, from their first developement in the young suc-
culent frond. They appear, when young, mixed with fila-

• Schrad. Journal fiir die Botankl:.

.:,«

F1L1CE8.

mcnls, whicli at first tliese eininent naturalists imagined to
be the male organs ; an opinion which the genuine candour
of Sprengcl speedily relinquished lor that already stated,
viz. that the impregnation is affected by the concentrated
proper juice contained in the ascending vessels of the fas-
ciculi. We have already stated, that we cannot consider
this process of fecundation to be effected solely by these
vessels ; — v/hy should we attempt to limit, by imaginary
analogies, the operations of nature ? Bernard de Jussieu
long ago {Mem. de I' Acad, des Sciences, 1740) demon-
strated the male organs of the Marsi/iacea (a tiibe pos-
sessing evident affinity with the ferns,) within their cap-
sules. Now, althouijh such organs have not hitherto been
detected within the capsules of ferns, there seems nothing
really absurd in conceiving seeds to be formed within these
capsules, and perfected by the absorption not merely of
the ascending sap from the vascular fasciculi of the stem
and frond, but from veins returning the sap elaborated in
the reticular substance of the expanded fronds. That the
sap thus returns from the fronds is highly probable, from
the green colour of the saccharine mucilage, a super-
abundance of which, we have already observed, is annu-
ally deposited for the developement and nutrition of fu-
ture germs in the stem itself.

Plate CCLIV. Fig. 9. represents a pinnule of Athyriinn
thetyfiteris, as delineated by Schmidel, in order to shew the
elegant ramifications of the vascular fasciculi, in contact
with which the groups of capsules appear, covered with
their respective involucra. Fig. 10. a higlily magnified
view of one of these, with the yellow globular bodies,
imagined by Bernhardi to be male organs. Fig. 11. a
capsule wit': its ring, beginnning to burst and eject the
seeds.

These figures, then, although representing the fruit of
the As/iidiacecs only, we shall refer to as types of the re-
spective fruit of the whole series of ferns.

The groups of capsules are termed sori, from o-o^oi, lo-
cuius. In many genera, these groups are covered with an
involucrum, as represented in the Fitrure ; but in others
they are quite naked. This involucrum is evidently a pro-
duction of the cuticle, and, in its early state, is organised
exactly in the same manner.

GENERAL ARRANGEMENT OF FERNS.

Previous to the excellent paper of Dr now Sir James
Edward Smith, published in the fifth volume of the J]Ie-
inoirs of the Academy of Sciences at 7Vr/n, our knowledge
of the genera Avas very imperfect ; but this celebrated
botanist, by a more accurate examination of the species,
was enabled to reform the genera, and to reduce them, from
a state of comparative confusion, nearly to their present
form. Since the work of Smith, others have followed on
the same principle ; and Bernhardi, Swartz, and S|jrengel,
have respectively contributed to our stock of knowledge of
these plants.

The general principles on v,-hich the genera are at pre-
sent distinguished, consist in the fonn, attachment, and
manner of opening of the involucrum ; and when this en-
velope is wanting, in the manner in which tlie sari (groups)
are arranged on the receptacle of the frond. To the re-
ceptacle, the capsules are generally attached by a fruit-
stalk, in some so short, as to cause them to appear sessile ;
in others of a considerable length, and someiimes branch-
ed with a capsule on each division. The receptacle, whe-
ther situated on the plane of the frond, or elevated above
it, is in by far the greater number of known genera com-
mon to a numerous group of capsvilcs, although, as will
soon appear, there are instances of single multilocular

seed-vessels apparently sessile in the frond itself. The
capsules in most of the tribes are girt with a ling, whicli,
on the maturity of the seeds, breaks, and springing back-
wards, ejects them with considerable force to some dis-
tance from the plant. This circumstance may be observ-
ed occasionally, by placing the ripened groups under the
microscope, with a sheet of writing paper under them to
receive the exploded seeds. In a great part of the series,
many of the genera want the rings ; but, instead of them,
their capsules are more or less marked with strije, in the
direction of which they burst.

An attempt is here made to arrange the genera on the
principle of the natural method, as far as our limited
knowledge of tlie structure of their most essential organs
would admit. It is no doubt very likely, that several of
those we have ventured to approximate, will be found de-
ficient in affinity by subsequent observers ; but as an ad-
herence to truth and nature is the great object, tliis will
only add to our satisfaction ; conscious, as the illustrious
Jussieu observes, that such errors originate " Non legum
naturalium, sed pravas eorum interpretationis, vitio."

I. DANiE.\CE.E. (Plate CCLIV. Fig. 12. o.)

{Poro/iterides, Willd. S/i. Plant.

We have commenced with this singular tribe, because,
although it differs most remarkably from the rest of the
series, it is still more nearly related to them than the
Marsiliacee, I^yco/wdiacex, and Gonofihytacee, of whicli
an account will be alterwards given in the proper place.
The single multilocular seed-vessels, in this tribe nearly
sessile in the substance of the frond, and which, in the
genus Maratiia, are endowed with a divisible septum, ren-
ders it necessary to arrange them in a natural method, dis-
tinct from the other known tribes of ferns. Indeed, their
solitary seed-vessels possess neither an involucrum nor
ring, yet tlieir fronds are entirely those of ferns. They
possess a similar structure. They are involute, or circi-
nate as it is termed, in their vernation, and affect a similar
pinnate form ; but in their fruit they are singularly dis-
tinct ; for instead of the groups of minute capsules, as in
the greater part of the series, this tribe is furnished with
multilocular seed-vessels imbedded in the substance of the
frond itself, and opening, when ripe, in pores on the sur-
face, leading to the respective loculaments.

Genera.

(1.) Marattia. (Sm. Act. Taur. 5. p. 419. Aryriothcca,
Juss. Ge7i. PI. p. 15. Willden. Sp. PL 5. 1942.^

Seed-vessels oval, distant, with a divisible or double
septum, and a row of cells, opening on each side, in trans-
verse, linear, or ovate ]ioies.

The cells of the seed-vessel are arranged on each side of
the double septum, lo the number of five or six. Of this
singular genus there are four species known, two of which
are described by the indefatigable Swartz, natives of the
West Indies. These two species are figured by Smith,
viz. M. alata and M. lavis. The other two are natives of
Isle de Bourbon ; the 71/. fraxinea, also figured by Smith,
{Icones inedita, tab. 45,47.48.) and the fourth species great-
ly resembling the last ; but this species (j1/. sorbifolia) has
alternate, instead of opposite pinnae of the fronds. We
are indebted to Swartz for an excellent figure of the gene-
ric character. (Flor. Ind. Occident, iii. tab. 29.)
(2.) Danaa. (Sm. Act. Taur.)

Seed-vessels narrow, linear, transverse, parallel to each
other, imbedded in the substance of the frond. Cells in a
double row, opening in pores.

FILICES.

Linnxius referred llie only species known to him to jia-
fileniuw, the oblong, sinj;lc seed-vessels somewhat resem-
bling the groups of capsules in ihat genus, when superfi-
cially observed. There is a good figure of the generic
character in the Jtnials of lUjiany, ii. PI. 10. Three spe-
cies are descril)ed by Wiildenow, all natives of America,
viz. the D. sim/i/icifolia., (Rudge, /-"/. Cujan. tab. 36) D.
nosa, (Plum. PL American, tab. 6.) and D. atata, (Plum.
Pit. tab. 109.)

II. GLEICHENIACEiE.

The genera of this tribe approach much nearer to the
majority of the series than the last. The seeds are con-
tained in minute capsules arranged in groups, and are
unilocular, striated, and sessile. The strise are transverse or
oblique, and the capsules bur.st longitudinally in the direc-
tion of the strise. The groups are naked, and, except in
Mertensia,hn\e a very limited number of capsules.

Genera.

(I.) jingiofiteris, (WiUd. 1944.)

Capsules elliptical, disposed in groups of five or seven,
in double rows, along the secondary veins of the frond, and
opening longitudinally.

There is but one solitary species, the J. evecla, hitherto
known, figured by Hoflfman, (Comm. Gat. p. 29. tab. 5.)
This species was brought from the islands of the South
Sea by Forster ; aixl Swartz has represented the generic
character in the Annals of Botany, PI. 10. fig. 4. This
species is five feet in height, and has the aspect of a small
palm.

(2.) Gleichenia, (Sm. Act. Taur. S. p. 419. T. 9. Fig. 10.
WiM.Sfi.Pl. 5. 1945.)

Capsules disposed in point-like groups of three or four
together.

In this genus, the lobes of the frond are rolled back-
ward ; and the Gl. /wly/iodoides was ranked by Linnseus
under Onoclea, without regard to the want of a ring. Gl.
Jiolyfiodoides is a native of the Cape of Good Hope, and
with two others, viz. Gl. circinata, and Gl. glauca, is de-
scribed by Wiildenow and Swartz. To these Brown has
added six more new species, none of which are yet figured.
{^Prodr. JVov. Holl. p. 1 60.) The Gl. hermarmi is the Mer-
tcnsia dichotoma of Swanz, and Dicrano/iteris of Bernhar-
di. In^leicltenia the fronds are dichotomous.

(3.) Platizoma. (Brown, Prodr. J\fov. Holl.)

CapsuJes sessile, mixed with powder, and in distinct
point-like groups.

Mr Brown observes, that this genus is scarcely distinct
from Gleichenia in fructification, but it differs in having
the stipites simple.

(4.) Mertensia. (^WiM. Act. HoIjii. 1804, p. 165)

Groups or sori round ; the capsules numerous, semibi-
ralve.

This genus was formerly, like many others, confounded
with Puly/iodium. The species are all natives of tropical
climates, and fully described by Wiildenow and Swartz ;
and several of the species are figured in the Act. Holm.
tab. 4 and 5. He enumerates eleven species, including the
Gl. Hermanni, imdev the name of M.dichotoma. Two spe-

cies were discovered by Humboldt in the arid territory of
New Andalusia, namely, M. glauceaccns and M./tubeacem.

III. OSMUNDACE.E. (Plate CCLIV. Fig. 13.)

In this tribe the capsules are very nunnerous, and, ex-
cept in Osmunda, sessile, elegantly striated, generally in
the form of rays on the top, and being pellucid, they ap-
pear finely veined when examined by ihc microscope.
Like the GtorA^nmrriE, their capsules burst longitudinally.
They have not dichotomous fronds like most of the genera
of that tribe.

G?;NEttA.

(1.) Todea. (Willd. 1947.)

Capsules globular, semi-bivalve, on the transverse veine
of the frond.

There is but one species only, the T. Africana, descri-
bed and figured by Wiildenow, {Act. Acad. Erfurd, tab. 3.)
and by Plukenet, {Aim. tab. 181. fig. 5.) This is the Oi-
■munda barhara, (Thunb. Prodr.) but, according to Brown,
Todea ought not to be considered as a genus distinct from
Osmunda, as it possesses pedicillated capsules.

(2.) Mohria. (Willd. 1948.)

Capsules somewhat round, dispersed, opening in an obr
long pore at the side, the crenulated margin of the lobes
bent in upon them.

There is but one s'lecies, the Thurifraga, as yet known,
(Vid. Swartz Syjw/is. tab. 5.) Osmunda marginalis. La-
mark, Encycl. iv. p. 612. Osmunda thurifraga, Bory. Id-
ner. i. p. 348.)

(3.) //i/rfro^/o«sum, Willd. 1949. {Ofihioglosaum^lAn. Sfi.
PI. Lygodium, Swartz. Syno/is Br. Prodr. JVov. HAL
Pamondia, Juss. gen. OdonCo/iteris, Brenh.)

Capsules sessile, ovate, inserted by the middle in double
ranked spikelets, issuing from the margin of a pinna or
frond, covered with a scale, and opening longitudinally.

For a fine figure of this singular genus, we are indebted
to Sprengel, {Cryfit. Plate V. fig. 39.) Lini.asus confound-
ed it with O/ihioglossum, with which it certainly has no af-
finity whatever.

To the accuracy of Brown we are indebted for the first
notice of the singular insertion of the capsules into the re-
ceptacle. The most correct character of the genus is
given by Brown and Swartz, which is here preferred to
that of Wiildenow, (5/i. PL 577,) wherein he describes fif-
teen species, among which the fourth, Hydroglossum has-
tatum. is the Lyg. uenustum of Swartz. This beautiful
fern (figured by Breynius, tab. 96 ; Petiver Gazoph. tab.
64 ; and Morison, sect. 14. tab. 3,) is a native of Brazil.
It is distinct from the Hyd. scandens. of which it was sup-
posed to be only a variety. The stem is round and sar-
mentous, the frond tripinnate, the last of the pinnulje ser-
rate, and the extreme lobe much extended. The whole
plant is covered with woolly hairs. Wiildenow reckons
the scale investing each of the capsules, an involucrum,
with which it would seem to possess no just analogy. As
the Hyd. scandens is now in the collection of the Botanic
Garden at Edinburgh, tlirough the industry of the super-
intendant Mr Macnab, we shall now have an opportunity of
examining the fruit more closely. Brown (Prodr. M". Hull.)
observed the last species [Ugena microfiliylla, Cavanilles,)
and a new species, the Hyd. semibifiitmatum, in New Hol-
land (vid. Prodr. p. 162.)

IILICES.

(4.) Schizea, (Sm. Acl. Taur. 5, tab. 9. fig. 9. Willd. Sji.
PL 1950.)

Capsules oval, in two ranks, on the back of narrow ap-
pendages of the summit of the frond, opening laterally in
an oblong pore.

LinnjEus arranged this gcniis with ^croslic/ium, but it
was justly separated from that genus by Smith. He gave
it the name of Schizcea. from the gashed appearance of the
fronds and their appendages. The radiated strise of the
capsules manifest its close affinity to the rest of the Osmun-
dacecs. Willdenow describes eight species, to which
Brown has already added a ninth, Sc/i. rii/iestris. There
are certain species, particularly Sch. flectinata, with a sim-
ple linear stipes, without the frondose expansion, which
have an appearance singularly distinct from the generality
of the series. Plukenet (./^/ma^ p. 200, tab. 95.) accounted
this ajuncus, and he terms it Juncus elesfantisnimus ca/iilu-
lis/ieclinatis. In this he was followed by Ray and Morison.
The otiier species, however, may be considered as only ap-
proaching to this uncommon form. From the capsules
being in some degree concealed by tlie inflected margin of
the appendages, others of the genus, as the Sch. elegans,
might be confounded with Onoclea ; but the absence of
rings, at once, on proper examination, shews their true
character.

(5.) Anemia.) Swartz, Synop. pi. Willd. 5/1. PL 5. 1951.)

Capsules top-shaped, opening on one side, and arranged
in spikes.

Of this genus Willdenow reckons seventeen species. It
,is very probable, however, that, on a more close examina-
tion, it will be found necessary to consider the four last as
a distinct genus, their fruit-stalk, like those of Botrychitun,
rising from the ground ; although, without the dissection
of living specimens, it is impossible to ascertain this. The
remaining fourteen species, several of which are correctly
figured by Plumier and Petiver, are at once distinguished
from these by their fruit-stalks, generally two, branching
from the stipes, at the commencement of the frond ; and,
by this remarkable structure, as well as their sessile cap-
sules, the whole are clearly distinguished from Osmunda,
with which all of them were formerly confoimded. In ge-
neral, they are natives of South America. The A. -uitlo.ia,
(Willd. Sfi. PL 5, p. 92.) which was lately discovered by
Humboldt and Bonpland in South America, is a species
quite distinct from Osinunda villosa.

(6.) Osmunda, (Willd. 1952.)

Capsules with footstalks, globular, semibivalve, opening
at the striae, and either situated on the back of the unalter-
ed frond, or around it, when contracted into the form of a
panicle.

Willdenow enumerates only seven species ; but Brown,
whose accuracy is unquestionable, thinks tliat Osmunda
barbara. separated from this ij:rr,us by Wilidenuw under the
name of Todea (Willd. p. 7G ), ought to be restored to it,
on account of its pedicellated capsules; so that there are
eight species known, of whicli one, the O. rega/is, only is a
native of the moist woods of Europe. The germination of
the young plants of the last species was observed by Mori-
son, and, from his very concise and impeifect description,
it would seem probable, tliat in this process it resembles
those whose capsules are furnished with rings.

The 0. sfiectabilis of North America, though at first con-
sidered as a variety of the O. regalis, is supposed lay Will-
denow to be a distinct species, having pinnules finely ser-

rated. Both, when planted in a moist situation, are very
oinamental, growing to the height of five feet. The O.in-
territ/ua of Willdenow is the O. basilarin of Sprengel ; and,
like the O. claytaniana, bears its fruit towards the middle
of the frond. The O. cinnamoriia, O. jufijionica, and O. lan-
cea, have their fruit-bearing fronds diifeiently shaped from
the barren ones, and may eventually be found a distinct
genus.

The genus Osinunda, then, evidently does not bear, its
capsules on a separate spike, like the Anemia, but on the
back of the fronds, which are changed in such a manner,
in several of the genera, as to put on the appearance only
of spikes. They approach, therefore, in their general struc-
ture, to those of the rest of the series, whose capsules are
annulated; and to the ardour and diligence of Humboldt
and Bonpland we owe the discovery of an intermediate link
between the genera without rings, and those that have
them, in

Pulybotrya, (Willd. 1953. Humboldt and Bonpland.)
(Intermediate genus.)

Capsules with rings, sessile, round, aggregated in naked
loose spikes.

There is but one species known of this truly interesting
genus, P. osmundacea, which affords another, among many
instances, of the fact, that the several links of the great
chain of living natural bodies, are now, or were formerly,
connecteci together, although we are generally only able to
perceive them in that detached or disunited form under
which we endeavour to characterise them in groups. The
ferns, therefore, whose capsules are aimulated, and those
which are without rings, are not naturally distinct; and.
therefore we ought not to divide them into artificial classes,
but endeavour rather, by tracing the organization of indi-
viduals, to collect and approximate the various groups of
kindred genera, and thus restore them, as nearly as possi-
ble, to the place they really occupy in the series of natural
affinity.

IV. POLYPODIACE.E. (Plate CCLIV. Fig. 14.)

In this tribe the genera have the capsules nearly sur-
■ rounded with an elastic jointed ring, which, as in all the
others endowed with them, bend backwards on the burst-
ing (see Plate CCLIV. Fig. 11.) of the ripened capsule.
In the whole of the genera, tlie capsules are naked, or at
least apparently provided with no other covering than nu-
merous hairs everywhere around them. Brown, however,
whom it is impossible to mention without praise, has in one
genus, hitherto supposed to belong to /"o/iz/iorfH/OT, demon-
strated that these hairs are in reality the divided margin of
a singular involucrum, whose capillary segments are in-
curved so as entirely to conceal the young, and even the
mature capsules, of the IVuodsia hy/ierborea and ]V. ilven-
sis, so that this genus must he removed to the tribe Cya-
i/jcacfic, (see p. 72). Whether similar involucra may not,
some time or other, be detected in others of this very hete-
rogeneous assemblage, future careful examination must
determine.

Genera.

(1.) Acrostic/turn, (Willd. 1954.)

Capsules covering the whole or tlie greater part of the
lower disc of the fertile fronds, which frequently differ in
shape from the barren ones.

Willdenow reckons sixty-two species, to which Brown

riLTCES.

{Prodr. PL J\/'cit>' Hoi.) has added two hitherto undescribcd,
the J. fraxinifolia and ^. /iteruides ; the former species
nearly related, he observes, to J. aiireum, but difi'erent in
having the |)iiinvc shortly acciiniinated. The yt. alcicnrnc,
previously described by Swurtz, was observed by Brown
near Port Jackson.

The species of this extensive genus are too numerous,
and differ too evidently in appearance, to be accurately
known ; and it is easy to see that they require a more na-
tural subdivision than, from our present imperfect acciuuin-
tance with their structure, can as yet be attempted with
success. Some of llie species would seem to approach to
Onoclea in afllnily. Genera, however, totally distinct, have
been confounded with Jcrostic/tum, from being examined
in an advanced period of their fructification. Hence, as
Sprengel observes,.//, hastalum and I.iljebad's ji. al/iinum,
are real /"o/y/jot/in. their capsules becoming crowded when
about to burst. In many of the species, the feitile fronds,
contracling, put on the appearance of spikes, seeming to-
tally distinct from the sterile ones; and thus have been,
even by modern botanists, confounded with Oumtinda. In
the Jcrostichum a/ciciriic, now in the public collection at
Edinburgh, the sterile fronds are kidney-shaped, entire,
and sessile ; while the fruitful fronds are erect, dichoto-
mous, wedge-shaped at the base, bearing their capsules to-
wards the upper part, on the lanceolate laciniae. This sin-
gular species is figured by Schkuhr, (Cnjjit. 1. tab. 2.) By-
tar the greater part of tlie Acrostkha are natives of tropi-
cal regions.

The jicrostichum maranta is the only European species
hitherto described. This species has opposite bipinnate
fronds. The pinnules entire, oblong, blunt, united towards
the point of the frond, the whole of which is in the back co-
vered with chaffy scales, as in Ceterach, from which, how-
ever, it is easily distinguished, by comparing them when
the Ceterach is in the first period of fructification, and the
transverse lines of its capsules are clearly seen. The A.
waranta is found on the rucks of Styria, in the Tyrole,
Switzerland, Italy, Spain, and Portugal. The A. canari-
ense possesses great affinity with A. maranta ; but it differs
in being, in every respect, of double the size, the lower pin-
nise having nine or ten pinnules on each side, and the for-
mer being all alternate instead of opposite, as in A. maranta.

(2.) Hemionitis, (Willd. 1955.)

Capsules inserted into the reticulated vessels of the
frond.

In this elegant genus, the fruit accompanies the ramifi-
cations of the veins, or rather vascular fasciculi of the
frond. Willdenow describes fifteen species, in eight of
which the frond is entire, and in the remainder variously
pinnated. In the H. arroslic/ioides, the capsules are con-
liuent on the broad, lanceolate,. undulated, and crenate pin-
nse. This species is a native of Sierra Leone. The H. re-
ticulata, figured by Sprengel, is evidently allied to Vittaria
lanceolata, with the groups of capsules in branched lines,
with which Brown thinks it ought to form a distinct genus.
The H. riifa is the Acrostichum rufum, {S/i. PI 2. Lin.)
This species a good deal resembles the Asfileriium tomen-
tosum of Lamarck {Encijc. 2. p. 305.), from Brazil. The
species are all natives of warm climates.

(3.) Meniscium, (Willd. 1956.)

Capsules in lunulated groups, situated nearly parallel
to each other, on the transverse vascular fasciculi of the
fiond.

Only six species are at present (1815) known ; and to

Sprengel we arc indebted for a correct figure of the gene-
ric character, in an engraving of the M. irifiliyllum, (Aji-
kit. lal). 3. f. 20.) Schreber first characterized this genus,
from its crescent-shaped groups of capsules situated on the
ternary ramifications of the frond. The M tryfthyllum is
a native of the East Indies and of China. The most re-
markable of the species was discovered lately by Hum-
boldt and Bonpland in New Andalusia, the M. arbr,reaccne.
The stem of this fern is erect, and upwards of eight feet
high ; fronds pinnated, eighteen inches long; pinnae lance-
olate, wedge-shaped at the base, two or three inches long,
alternate, nearly sessile, and more or less sinuated ; the
slipites smooth, green, about a foot long, and trisulcale
above This species possesses great affinity with the M.
reticulatum, and with it probably will be found to constitute
a distinct genus. The Al.reticulatum is figured by i'ctiver
(tab. 6. fig. 13.) It has not an erect stem. The M. gor-
b'/o/ium, in its fronds, also resembles the AI rcticulalum,
but the pinna2 are uniformly far more narrow and acumi-
nated. It is the more useful to note these external resem-
blances, as they frequently point out the link of affinity in
the genus. It is singular that Jacquin sliould have consi-
dered the last species as an As/ileriium, (Colled. 2. p. 106,
tab. 3. f. 2.) Both are found in Martinifiue ; indeed, all of
them, except the trifihyllum, which is a native of the East
Indies, are found in the West Indies and South America.

(4.) Tanitis. (Willd. 1957.)

Capsules generally in linear, longitudinal, and continued
groups, situated between the middle fasciculus and exterior
margin of the frond.

This curious genus was formerly by Willdenow suppo-
sed to belong to Pteris {Phylog. tab. 9.), but it was very
properly separated from that genus by Swartz, under its
present designation. In fact, neither of the species, of
which there are only two known, could be reckoned Pte-
rides, as in neither do the fronds furnish an involucrum
which is essential to that genus. Sprengel has a good
figure (PI. 10. Anleit.) of the generic character, in a pinna
of the T. blec/moides. (See also Willdenow, P/iylog. tab. 9.)
The affinity of this genus with Grammi7is is singularly evi-
dent, and it is better to refer such species as have the in-
terrupted lines of capsules to that genus.

(5.) Grammitis. (W^illd. 1959.)

Capsules in groups of longitudinal interrupted lines be-
set with scales, (Sprengel.)

This genus can scarcely be distinguished from the last,
unless by the lines of capsules in them being straggling
and interrupted, and nearly covered with scales. The great-
er part of the species known, have simple linear or lanceo-
late fronds. The G. fiumila has linear filiform fronds, and
a solitary line of capsules towards the point of them, along
the middle fascictilus, or vein, as it is usually termed. This
can only be seen by a magnifying glass, (Swartz). The
frond of the G. ehngata, figured by Sprengel, (Tab. 3. An-
leit.') exhibits the character of this genus. To the fifteen
species described by Willdenow, Brown has added two
others from New Holland, viz. G Aiistralis frotidibvs lan^
ceolato linearibus obtusjusculis, iiitegris, glabris, and G. ru-
tefolia. Of those with compound fronds, the Lefitofihylla
is figured by Cavanilles [Ann. Sc. J^'at. t. 41. mala.) as an
Asfilenium.

(6.) Ceterach. (Willd. 1958.)

Capsules in transverse linear groups.

FILICES.

The Ceterach has been so frequently clcscribcd under
different generic names, that it would seem to have puz-
zled the most eminent botanists. The C. ojjicinarum,
which is a native of Britain, and most countries in Europe,
has had the various names of Anjiknium^ Scolojiendriuin,
fplor. Brit. 3. 113. and Roth. Germ. GraDuniein, Swartz,)
and now Willdenow has coiisidersjd it as a distinct genus,
along with two other species, the C. canarknsis and C.
asfiidioidcs. This last possesses the frond of Atlnjrium
thiliilHcri.'!, whilst the groujis of capsules resemble those
of Asfitenium, without the involucrum. The transverse
position of these groups sufh*iently divide it from Gram-
ntiiis ; yet, like it, this genus has the capsules beset with
scales. In both, however, these scales have no affinity with
involucra, so far as yet discovered.

(7.) JVortholana. (Br. Prodromus .Vox', //o//.)

Capsules in continued or interrupted marginal groups,
feeset with scales or hairs.

Of this genus. Brown describes three species from New
Holland. The JV. dUtans, .V. velka, and tiie jV. /nimila.
Besides the above, he observes, " hue pertinent Acros-
tichum marantse, Pteris trichomanoidcs, et aliae nonnuUie
inediiK," (Vid. Prod. p. 145.)

(8.) Poly/iodiurn.

Capsules in round distinct groups, in rows ; more or
less distant from each other.

Tlie expediency of an accurate revision of this vast
genus, which, by its present character, includes, accord-
ing to Willdenow, a hundred and fifty-six species, is be-
come obviously necessary. Can it be doubted that, in such
an assemblage, differing so evidently in their structure,
genera entirely distinct are necessarily included ? The
genus Poly/wdiuin, Brown justly observes, forms at present
above a seventh part of the whole series. It is therefore
much to be regretted, that the most eminent botanists of
the present period, with some remarkable exceptions, are
rather indisposed to that close and unwearied investigation
of individuals, — that patient and close inquiry into the
structure of the fruit and seed, which are more than ever
become indispensable to the accuracy of arrangement, not
only of these, but of plants in general.

Since the judicious exclusion of P. arvonicum, (Flor.
Brit. 111. 115; P. /izj/ierboreum, Swartz.) the British
species of this genus amount only to five. (1.) The P.
vulgare, or common polypody. This species, like otliers
of the series, is capable of living, and even thriving with-
out any other moisture than what it derives immediately
from occasional showers, or from dew ; for we find it gene-
rally on old walls, towards the north, with its finely divid-
ed fibrous brown roots, penetrating the old mortar, along
■with various mosses, which probably serve to retain the
moisture thus occasionally derived from the atmosphere.
The scaly tortuous stem is procumbent, and at intervals
sends forth its pinnatifid pointed fronds, the lobes of which
are serrated and blunt. These lobes produce the brown
round groups of capsules in a single row, on each side of the
middle fasciculus of the fronds, which alternating on each
side of the stem, extend from a span to a foot in length.
The most remarkable variety is that noted by Bolton, in
which the pinnx are formed into branches resembling the
maternal frond. This variety is distinctly, but coarsely,
.figured by Bolton, (tab. 2.) It is also figured by Morison,
(sect, 14. tab. 2.) under the name of P. Cambro-Britannimm,
pinnuHs laciniatis. This is like some other ferns, ^yell adapt-
VoL. IX. Part I.

cd to adorn rocks surrounded with shrubs. (2) Polyftodium?
(an Aihyrium?) fomaman, frondc lineari lanceoliUa, acuta.,
/linnata, /linnis cordalia ohtusiusculi^ /linnatijidia crctiati.'i
.tu/ira gtabri.i,{Sm. Flor. Brit. 3.) Smith tliiiiks this species
(hstintt from tlic A.ijiidiuin fontanum (>[ Swartz. (J.) P.
/ihcffo/iteris, (VVilld. S/i. PL 131.) The frond is pinnated,
the piiiDK lanceolate, pinniitifid and united at the base, the
under piiinx bent back. This species is found in Lapland,
and in tlie woods of most [)arts of Europe. (4.) P. dryofi-
teris^ (7'7. Brit. 5 ) This species is the tender three-branch-
ed Poiy/iody (Kng. Bot. 616.) (5.) P. calcareum, (VVilld.
S/t. PI. 156. and PL Brit.) In this species the ternate
bipinnate frond is erect, and more rigid ; in other respects
it resembles the last. It is the rigid three-branched poly-
pody, and is figured by Bolton, as P. dryo/iteris, (S3 tab.)
Our British species then of this genus are very limited ;
but, indeed, we posses nearly the whole of the European
species yet known.

In order, however, to give some idea of the very dis-
similar habit of some foreign species of this extensive as-
semblage, it may be remarked, that the P. lycofiodoides,
(Willd. S/i. PL 12.) possesses entire lanceolate fronds, and
an elongated creeping stern, covered with chaffy scales,
from which it has its name ; although it has but little
resemblance to Lycofiodium. Plumier, (Anitr. tab. 42.)
gives an expressive figure of it, under the denomination
oi tirigjta cervina scandcns. It aliounds in the woods of all
the West Indian Islands. The P. vndulalum, (Willd. S/i.
Plant. 25.) possesses linear lanceolate, very entire fronds,
above an inch broad, and extending to the length of twelve
inches, undulated on the border, and narrowed both at the
base and point; the ramified veins extending nearly in a
longitudinal direction, parallel to each other. ThaP. lon-
gi/oliuiii, (Willd. 26) has similar fronds, extending to the
length of eighteen inches. Both these species are covered
on the under side with white woolly down. The P. tenio-
.^iini, (27 Willd. Sfi ) was discovered by Humboldt and
Bonpland in South America, near Caripc. The fronds of
this fern are also linear, little more than half an inch broad,
and extending to the length of two feet, with the base very
much attenuated The P. fasciale of Willdenow, (Hum-
boldt and Bonpland,) is figured by Plumier, (Pilic. t. 127.)
A nearer examination of these kindred species would, per-
haps, warrant their being considered as congeners of a
genus distinct from the P. aureum, and others deeply pin-
natifid, such as the P. dulcc, P. decumanum, and other
kindred species. As to the P. hyficrborciim, (128,) and P.
ilv ens e, (129,) is is evident both must be excluded from
this genus, if we attend to the valualjle memoir of Brown,
published in the eleventh volume of the Linnean Transac-
tions, (p. 170.) in which he has demonstrated the true
nature of these singular ferns. To the species described
in the present edition of the S/i. Plant. (1810,) six others
hitherto unknown are added by Brown, (Prod. Flor. JVov.
Noll. 145, 146.) (1.) P. conjitiens, with linear entire lan-
ceolate fronds, ash-coloured beneath, with the groups
sometimes confluent, and a scaly creeping stem. (2.) P.
cttenuatum, likewise with linear lanceolate fronds, at-
tenuated at the base, and a creeping stem. (3.) P. mem-
branifolium, with a pinnatifid and reticulated fr-ond, and
minute scattered groups of capsules. (4.) P. diversi/'olium,
the sterile fronds sessile, ovate, and sinuated ; the fertile
ones pinnated with lanceolate, ensiform, crenate, and sub-
petiolated fronds. (5.) The P. ru/iestre, apparently pos-
sessing affinity with P. stellatum of Swartz.

V. ASPIDIACEjE. (Plate CCLIV. Fig. 13.)

This tribe was originally included in the genus Pohj-

FILICES.

/lodiunt oi'Linnxus, but since the more accurate examina-
tion of the genera begun by Sir James Edward Smith, and
continued by Swartz and IJcrnhardi, the polypodium has
been divided into several more natural and distinct genera,
whose groups of capsules, although separate, and in round
spots, are covered with an involucruni, which in some of
them is umbilicated and reniform, fixed at the centre,
opening all around; and, in others, attached by one, and
opening on the opposite side of the involucrum. Without,
there.'ore, implicitly following Roth, there seems to be a
certain degree of propriety in adopting his principle of
separating tliese genera, although he erred in confounding
tiiem with the Cyu-hea of Smith, which beloni^s to a very
distinct tribe. But since the publication of Sprengel's
work, a genus totally distinct 1ms been discovered by Hum-
boldt and Bonpland in Mexico.

Genera,

(1.) Fleo/ieltia. (WiUd. 1961. Humboldt and Bonpland.)

Capsules in round scattered groups, with numerous pel-
tate involucra to each of them.

P. angusta. The stipes of this small fern is smooth,
and about an inch in length : the frond, which is deeply
pinnaiifid, wedge-shaped at the base, and decurrent, is two
or three inches long, covered thinly with brown scales.
The groups are about the size of mustard seed, and to
each of them there are about twenty of the brown peltate
involucra. These distinct involucra separate this genus
from the two following, but their form ranic it with this
tribe in affinity.

(2.) Asjiidium,

(Sprengel, Anleit. Gen.
Sp. PI. 1962).

Aspidii, Willd.

Capsules in scattered round groups, invested with a
round or reniform involucrum fixed in the centre, and
opening all around.

Swartz and Willdenow (5/;. PI. 5,) have united this
genus v/ith Athyrium, {Polystkhum, Roth and Lamarck) ;
but to us, the reasoning of Sprengel for keeping them
separate, seeins unanswerable. For, if the form and open-
ing of the involucra be, as it is at present, the only charac-
teristic principle of the generic character, we ought, in
consistency, to adhere to it, until a better founded be dis-
covered. The Ad/iidium, then, includes such genera as
have their involucrum fixed in the middle, and emit their
capsules all around.

Among the British species, are, 1. T/ic A. Jilix mas,
which affords a decided example of this genus, so as, even
without the help of glasses, the kidney-shaped shields may
be easily perceived opening around the edges, and dis-
charging the brown capsules. This species, (whose ele-
gant bipinnate fronds, from upwards of twenty inches to
two feet long when in a proper soil, ought to become more
frequently an ornament of the shrubbery,) possesses pin-
nules rounded at the extremity, finely serrated, and bear-
ing in the end of summer the groups of capsules, in two
rows, on the under side near the middle rib ; the stipes
densely beset with chaffy scales, and the stem, evidently
short and near the surface, is hid by the remains of the
decayed stipites, and generally confounded, even by bo-
tanists, with the roots, from which, however, it is totally
distinct; for the roots are fibrous, shooting at intervals
from the stem. It is singular that this species should be
so generally diffused. It is a native not only of every part
of Europe, but of the woods of Asia and tiie North of
Africa ; and, what is singular, Willdenow relates that he

possesses a specimen of a variety from the island of St
Tliomas in tlic West Indies. This variety is in length the
same as the common European sjjccies, but the pinnulae
are serrated only lowartls llie end ; and, in every respect,
it closely resembles a variety found in Germany. Tlierc
is another small variety found in poor mountainous situa-
tions.

2. A. fratrrans, with bipinnate fronds, primary lobes,
ovato-lanccolate ; secondary, narrow, toothed, their tender
surface covered with the involucra, and scaly. This
species emits the odour of raspberries. Is it Asfiidium
oreojitcris ? (Smith's Plor. Brie.) It was found by Hud-
son in England. This species also deserves a place in the
shrubbery.

3. A. aculeatum. (Smith's Flor. Brit.), with a bipinnate
frond, and pinnules ovate-lanceolate, with soft spines un-
derneath, and chaffy stipites. (Bolton, PI. 26. Prickly
shield-fern).

4. A. ddatatum, (Willd. Sfi. PI. 100; Smith's Flor.
Brit.; Schkuhr, Cryfit. tab. 4.; Bolt. 23) The frond is
bipinnate, pinnules elliptico-lanceolate, with soft spines
beneath, and much resembling the last ; but the fronds are
more rigid and shining. Pinnae very close, and the pin-
nules more elliptical, and less cut. It is figured in Eng.
Bot. 1460.

5. A. lonchitis. Fronds pinnate, with lanceolated, ciliated,
and serrated pinnse, and scaly stipites. The fronds are
about a span long, erect, lanceolate, and narrow. Pinnae
nearly sessile, alternate, declining, acute, and spinulous :
at the margin groups of capsules, frequently confluent.

6. A. oreoftteris. The frond is pinnate, with the pinnae
pinnatifid, very entire, and the groups of capsules con-
fluent on the margin. This species is figured by Bolton
under the name of P. thelyfiteris, tab. 22, but far better in
Eng. Bot. 1019. To these. Brown has added four new-
ferns, under the designation of JVefihrodium, (Mich. Flor.
bar. Amer.) 1. JV. obliteratum. 2. JV. unitum. 3. JV. dc-
comjwsitum. 4. -V. tenue. The Kefihrodium seems to
possess entirely the character of Asjiidium. [Prodr. A''ox-.
Holl.)

(3.) Athyrium.

(^Asfiidii species, Willd,
Fhr. Brit.)

and Smith's

Capsules in small round groups dispersed on the whole
of the lower surface of the frond, covered with an invo-
lucrum attached by one, commonly the inner side, and
generally opening towards the margin.

1. The Athyrium (Aspid!!im,^V'Md. S/i. PL) thelyfiteria,
whose fruit is figured in Plate CCLIV. Fig. 11. affords a
clearidea of the generic character as distinct from Asfiidium.
A. thelyfiteris has fronds nearly bipinnate, the pinnae some-
what crenate and pinnatifid, distinct at the base, and de-
cussated. The groups are confluent. The frond is erect,
a foot high, lanceolate, and of a bright green colour ; the
stipes is smooth and elongate ; the pinnae are opposite,
but distinct and sessile at the base, lanceolate and pinna-
tifid, generally smooth ; the lobes somewhat crenate at the
point.

2. A. Jilix: f amino, with a bipinnate frond ; the pinnules
serrated, pinnatifid, with a smooth stipes and reniform in-
volucrum.

The fronds of this species are eighteen inches long,
broadly lanceolate, of a deep green colour, smooth as well
as the stipites; the pinnae are lanceolate and pinnulated,
and these pinnules again pinnatifid. The groups of cap-
sules are disposed as in Aspidium Jilix mas, but oblong-
and much less. It thrives best in moist and shaded places.
The Polypodium incisu?n of Hoffman, is a variety of this

FILICES.

species. Roth's Athyrium ovatum is another variety ; and
Mullcr's figure (Flor. Frid. t. 2. f. 3.) is an excellent re-
semblance of it, to which Roth refers for his A. ovatum.
The A. trifidum of Roth and Hoft'Trian, with very broad
fronds, and the slipites beset with cliaffy scales, is in fact
another variety. This species is figured by Morison,
(sect. 14. t. 3. f. 8 ; and Pluk. Plnjl. t.'l80. f. 4.)

3. At/i. inontanum, [Asfiidium, Wiild. 147.) With more
than twice compound ternate and tripinnate fronds; lobes
remote, and the last ones very narrow; blunt at the tip,
and acutely serrated. Plukenet found it in Wales. (F/iyt.
t. 89, f. 4.; AUione, Fl. Pedinon. 2410.)

AUantodia, (intermediate.) (Brown, Prodr. A''ov.
Hall. 149.)

Groups of capsules oblong, oblique, with respect to the
rib; involucrum arched, originating laterally from a vein
to which it is attached by both margins, and opening on
the inner side.

This genus seems to be intermediate between Athyriuvi
and As/ile7iium, and certainly distinct from both, although
more allied to Aspidiacea.

AUantodia, Brown observes, is, in habit, intermediate
between JVefihrodium {As/iidium Sprengel), and Di/ilazium.
There arc two species discovered by Brown. The A. aus-
tralis, with bipinnate, deltoid, flaccid, membranous fronds,
and pinnatifid pinnules ; attenuated towards the point, and
oblong, blunt, serrated lobes, bearing numerous capsules
under the oblong involucra. The A. tenera resembles the
last, only the lobes bear their linear groups of capsules at
the base only.

VI. ASPLENIACEiE. (Plate CCLIV. Fig. 16.)

The Asjilenium trichomanes, a figure of part of the frond
of which is represented in the Plate, may be assumed as
affording the type of this tribe. It includes the C<snopte-
ris of Bergius (Darea, Juss. and Willd. S/i.) which Brown
observes differs only in having the pinnules deeply cut, nar-
row lobes, and hence the involucra close on the margin,
and opening outwardly with respect to the lobe, but in-
wardly with respect to the rib, from which the fructife-
rous vein originates. There are also some species, whose
fronds, partly answering to the character of Asplenium,
and partly to Canofiteris, and even in the same involucrum,
exhibiting thus the character of both. Of their affinity,
then, there can be no doubt. In all the Asplenia, adds
Brown, I have observed the involucrum originate from the
superior branch of the vein, and always opening {lih(rum)
towards the rib : this, he observes, is the most natural
structure. Provided, however, it is situated on an inferior
branch, which occasionally happens in certain species,
•whose fronds are undivided, the involucrum opens in a
contrary direction.

Genera.

(1.) Darea. (Jussieu, Gen. 15. Sprengel, ..f^teV. P. 3.
fig. 24. Willden. 1966.)

Capsules in linear submarginal groups. Involucrum
originating from lateral veins, and opening towards the
rib.

There are none of the species of Darea hitherto found
in Europe ; most of them being native either of the Cape
of Good Hope, Bourbon Island, or New Holland. This
genus was first established by Bergius under the name of
Cxnopteris. The lines of capsules are generally situated
in the marginal sinuses of the narrow lobes of the frond.

The genciic character is represented by Sprengel, in his
third Plate, exhibiting part of the frond of D. odontites.
Sometimes, however, tlie groups arc at a greater distance
from the margin. The B. fiunaroides, lately discovered
in Caraccas by Humboldt and Bonpland, to whom all the
physical sciences owe so much, is a most beautiful spe-
cies. The stipes is smooth, channelled, and half a foot
long; tlie frond from three to five inches; bipinnate, the
pinnse and pinnulse alternate ; the pinnulx are linear, ob-
tuse, and bipartite, with bipartite lacinisc.

The D. ThizophyUa is figured by Sir J. Edward Smith.
Canopteris rhizojihyUa {icon, in edit. tab. 50.) is a native
of the West Indies. The D. vivipara, which is figured
by Bergius, {Act. Prtrop. 6. tab. 713.) afibrds an instance
of buds being produced from the pinnulae of the frond.
This fern is found in the woods of Mauritius and Bourbon
Islands.

(2.) Asplenium. (Willd. Sp. Pi. 1967.)

Capsules in linear separate groups, originating laterally
from a vein, and opening towards the rib.

Willdenow describes about one hundred of this genus,
of which only eight are natives of Britain.

1. A. trichomanes. The stem of this elegant species is
very short, enveloped with the decayed stipites of former
years, and having in the centre of these the buds of the
future season. The pinna; of the frond are oval, finely
crenate, with a stipes of a shining purple hue, carinated in
the under side. It is generally found on the northern
walls of our ancient buildings, where, although it requires
but little moisture, it is in some measure protected from
the total want of it. It is correctly figured by Sowerby
in Eng. Bot. 576, and by Woodville, Med. Bot. tab. 204.
A syrup was formerly prepared from a decoction of it, the
whole plant possessing a slight astringency; but other
ferns far exceed it in the proportion of sweet mucilagi-
nous matter, abounding not in the frond, as Woodville
observes, {Medical Botany, tit supra), but in their stems.
Mr Teasdale found a variety of this fern with the frond
branching.

2. The A. viride resembles the last, but differs, having
a green quadrangular stipes ; the pinnae of the frond alter-
nate, and of a paler green ; the middle fasciculus of the
frond is occasionally bifid.

3. A. marinum. This species has also alternate pinnae,
ovate, blunt as in A. trichomanes, and of a deep green co-
lour, wedge-shaped at the base, and above sometimes
united. On several parts of our coast, and in the sand-
stone caves at Wemyss in Fifeshire, observed by Sir Ro-
bert Sibbald. These three beautiful species possess an
evident affinity with each other.

4. A. alternifolium, with a pinnated frond, and alternate,
erect, wedge-shaped pinnas, eroded at the point. In this
species the lines of fruit are less numerous, shorter, and
paler than in the first described species. It is figured by
Jacquin. {Misc. t. 5. f. 2.)

5. .4. lanceolatum. In this species the frond is bipin-
nate and pointed ; the pinnules obovate, dentate, and acu-
minated. It is a native of the south of Britain, and found
by Mr Forster on the rocks at Tunbridge. It is about a
span in length, the lines of capsules short, and few in num-
ber.

6. A. adiantum nigrum. With deltoid fronds, alternate-
ly tripinnate, and with lanceolate, cut, and serrated pin-
nules; figured by Bollon, 30. t. 17. There is a variety
with fronds longer in proportion to their size. It is found
on old walls, and at the roots of old trunks of trees. The
smaller variety was found in a dark cave in the mountains

FILICES.

of Mournc in Irclasicl; atul in this variety the fronds are
barren and membranous, elegantly lacinialed.

7. ji. st/itcntrionale, with a trifido- pinnate frond, and li-
near alternate pinna:, as it were torn at the point. It is
found in the fissures of the greenstone, and other rocks in
the neighbourhood of Edinbuigli, where Willisel found it
in Ray's time.

8. ^. ruta muraria, with the frond alternately decom-
posed, pinnas rhomboidal open eroded at the point, elegant-
ly figured in £>ig. Bot. t. 150. We have succeeded in ob-
taining geniiinating seeds of this, and other ferns, and found
the ex))crinient answer best in decayed mortar mixed with
vegetable mould, taken from under the parent plant in an-
cient ruins.

Among numerous foreign species, the ji. fragram
(Willd. Sli. 594 Hort. Kcw. 15.) merits attention. This
species has bipinnate fronds, and oblong acute pinnules,
serrated at the point; but it is chiefly remarkable on ac-
count of its agreeable odour, resembling that of Anlliox-
anthiim odoratum.

The A. rliizofihyllum (Willd. .S/i. PI.) possesses, like
certain other ferns, the property of emitting I'oots from the
fronds, which are lanceolate, subci'cnate, and auriculatcd
at the base, and the buds germinate from their very long
linear filiform points. This species, though perfectly har-
dy, is in icw collections. It was introduced into Britain
above a century ago by Mr John Bannister.

The A. tno7mnt/iemum, a native of the Cape of Good
Hope, is another singular species, having a solitary group
of capsules on each pinnule. It was introduced in 1790,
by Messrs Lee and Kennedy of London. To tlie species
already described by Labillardiere, as native of New Hol-
land, Brown {Prodr. p. 150.) has added the following new
species, unknown to Willdenow, viz.

(1.) A. attenuatum, with linear fronds, pinnated at the
base, and entire above, and, like the last, radicant at the
attenuated point. (Port Jackson.)

(2.) A. fialeaceian, with ovale, rhomboid, dentate, stria-
ted and pinnate fronds, with a chafl'y stipes, the point of
the fronds also radicant ; a circumstance common to se-
veral New Holland species, and which shews the absur-
dity of naming species from properties supposed peculiar
to one.

Genera (insulated) of uncertain affinity.

(1.) Scolojiendrium. (Sm. Act. Tatir. t. 9. f. 2. 1968.
Willd. S/i. PI.)

Capsules in oblique linear groups, parallel to each other,
between the secondary veins of the frond. Involucrum
double, opening by a longitudinal fissure.

It is to the genius and accuracy of Sir J. Edward Smith,
that we owe the separation of this and other genera of ferns
from those originally established by Linnaeus. Although
befoie the reformation of the genera begun by him, this
was without any accurate examination ranked among the
Asplenia, with which, however, it seems to possess very lit-
tle affinity.

1. Scolofiendrium officinale, is a native of Britain, the
stem is black, as in several other ferns, and scaly and short.
The fronds, from ten inches to a foot long, according to
circumstances, tongue-shaped, entire, and cordate at the
base, and narrowed at the point; of a peculiarly firm tex-
ture, probably from the numerous transverse ramifications
of the rib, or ceiitral fasciculi ; smooth, and of a bright
green colour. The stipites are of a dark brown colour,
and very often scaly. The variations on the waved mar-
gin of the frond, or the occasional lobes produced at the

point, are the effect of situation. Although, like the rest
of the seiies, it will grow on the most elevated ruins, in
the crevices of the stones, it attains a large size on a richer
damp mould.

2. Sc. /lemionitis, bears gi'eat resemblance to the last; the
base of the frond, however, instead of being cordate, is has-
tate ; that is to say, the lobes arc angular rather than round-
ed below, like those of the first species. This fern is figur-
ed by Cavanilles, Annal. dc Sciences JValur. tab. 41. and
Morison, sect. 14. t. 21. f. 2.

(2.) Vijilazium, (Swartz, Sijn. Filic. p. 4. ; Willd. Sfi. PI.
1069.; Calliplerid. Sji. B.de Si Vincent.)

Capsules in distant double lines, simple, or branched.
The involucra double, each opening towards the margin
of the frond.

Willdenow describes ten species of this genus, which,
although in habit somewhat resembling certain AsftleniUf
is too distinct from them to be considered of the same
tribe. Like Scolojiendrium, it possesses a double involu-
crum, opening in a mannt-r the reverse of that genus. It
remains, therefore, for future observation, to enlighten us
as to the real place these, and no doubt other genera, real-
ly occupy in a natural series. In the mean time, we are
much indebted to Swartz, Bory de St Vincent, and Will-
denow, for all as yet known of the species. 'Vae D. filan-
tagineum is figured both by Swaitz and Schkuhr, (Swartz,
Sijn. 91. tab. 2. and Schk. Criy/zr. tab. 86.)

The D. esculentum is a native of the East Indies, and
Willdenow in his definition of this species has corrected
an error of Swartz, in describing it as bipinnate, Swartz
having only a pinna, which he mistook for the entire frond.
This species derives its name from the stem abounding
more with that sweet gummy sap, which is common, as
already observed, to the greater part of the series, even in
Europe.

The D. arborescens, {^Catijiteris, Bory. Itin.) is an elegant
species, inhabiting the woods of Isle de Bourbon. The
fronds resemble the most magnificent of those palms, ex-
tending from four to six feet, or more, in length ; and even
the alternate pinnae are from eighteen inches to two feet
long; the pinnulae three inches, the superior ones gradual-
ly lessening. The groups are linear, and decussated. It
differs fiom the last in having an arborescent stem, and in
the division of the fronds, although it is evidently nearly
allied to it.

(3.) Vittaria. (Sm. Act. Taur. Willd. 1971.)

Capsules in continuous marginal of dorsal lines ; the irr-
volucrum double, and of the texture of the frond; the one
opening outwardly, and the other inwards.

Of the eiglit species described by Willdenow, the greats
er part have linear membranous, pendulous or filiform
fronds.

In the y. Jtliformis, which is a native of Peru, the fronds
are two or three feet long, and only half a line broad ; and in
the r. zost era -folia, the stem is of the thickness of a goose
quill, covered with chaffy scales, and the frond, extending
to the length of five feet, is pendulous, and only three or
four lines in breadth ; and never, perhaps, was a species
seemingly better named, if similarity is regarded, for it
has quite the appearance of zogtera marina.

The F. ensi/ormis and V. filantaginea have erect frpndsj
and the lanceolata, it has been already observed, seems to
belong, with Hemionitis reticulata, to a distinct genus.
This fern is figured by Schkuhr, i^Cryfit. tab. loi.j Ac-

FILICES.

cording to Brown, the F. tlongata is a native of New Hol-
land, though also of tlie West indies, according to Swartz.

VII. BLECHNIDEjE. (Plate CCLIV. Fig. 17.)

Tlie genera of this tribe resemble each other in habit,
and in the arrangement of the groups of capsules. In
Bleclinum^ the lines of these groups ai e continuous ; whilst
in Woodivardia they are interrupted; but in both genera
they are parallel on each side of the rib of the frond, and
in both the involucrum opens inwards or towards the rib ;
indeed, both genera were confounded until separated by Sir
J. Edward Smith. The aflinity of Doodia and Sicgania is
equally manifest with the former. /

Genera.

(1.) Woodiuardia. (Sm. Act. Taur. 5. tab. 9. fig. 5.
Willd. 1973.)

Capsules in short interrupted, or oblong lines, on each
side of the middle rib. Involucrum arched, opening in-
wards.

An accurate idea of the generic character, is afforded
by Sprengel in his fourth plate, lig. 29, (vid. Inlrod. to
Crijfit. Plants,) representing IVoodwardia Ja/wnica, (iiis
£1. Jafionicum.) Of the seven species enumerated by
Willdenow, only one, IV. radicans, is a native of the south
of Europe. Of this, there is a figure by Schkuhr, (lab.
1 12,) and of a variety, (tab. 1 13.) The rest are all natives
of warm climates. Brown {Prodr. A^ov. Holl. p. 151) has
arranged W. Caudata of Willdenow, with two additional
species from New Holland, in a distinct genus, under the
name of

(2.) Doodia. (Brown, Prodr. .A'ot;. Hoi. p. 151.)

Capsules in lunulated or linear groups, in rows parallel
to the rib. Involuci'um originating from an anastomosing
branch of a vein, plwie, and opening inwards.

This genus is nearest to Woodivardia. and, as Brown ob-
serves, has an equal affinity with it, as Asfileniuvi has with
.illantodia.

The designation Doodia he conferred on this genus, in
memory of Samuel Doody, an apothecary of London, who
Avas among the first botanists who investigated cryptoga-
nious plants.

(3.) Blechnum. (Lin. Smith, Swartz, and Willd. 5/;. 1972.)

Groups linear, longitudinal, continuous, parallel to each
other on both sides of the middle rib of the frond. Invo-
lucra opening inwards.

The Blechnum is at once distinguished by the continue
ous lines of the capsules, parallel with, and close to the rib
on each side. Of the twenty species described by Willde-
now, the greater part are natives of the tropics. The Blcch-
?ium occidentale is common in every collection, as it thrives
better in the stove than many other foreign genera. It has
been for several years kept among those of the botanic
garden at Edinburgh. The Blechnum borcale is the only
species hitherto known to be a native of Europe, and, what
is singular, it is also found in the Canary Islands, but of
course only in alpine situations. The linear narrow fertile
pinnae, no doubt contracted and exhausted by nourishing
the iruit, caused it formerly to be confounded with Osmunday
under the ridiculous term Sfdcant.

(4.) Stegania. (Br. Prodr. ATov. Holl. p. 152.)
Groups linear, continuous, the capsules at length cover-

ing the back of the contracted frond, or of the pinnae. The
involucrum scarious, opening inwards.

None can ])eruse the brief notes of the author of the
Prodr. JVov. Holl. without being reminded of the learning
and judgment of the author. These notes, like those ot
Jussieu, (Gen. PI.) generally in a few words convey a de-
gree of information that could only be obtained by a pa-
tient and diligent enquiry into nature. The Stegania, he ob-
serves, possesses nearly the habit of Blechnum, to which
it is nuxt in aflinity; although in character it approaches to
certain Pterides, at least some that are at present reckoned
to belong to Pteris. The Blechnum firoccrum, indeed, of
Swartz and Labillardiere, with the Onoclea nuda of the last
named author, ought to be ranked as Stegania. To these,
however, he adds six hitherto unknown species; the St.
patersoni, lanceolate, Jluviatilis, al/tina, /areata, and minor.
Of these, St. fiatersoni has undiviclcd fronds, the sterile
ensiform and crenate; and the fertile fronds linear; the
remaining species being all pinnatifid, or pinnated. The
St. nuda {Onoclea, Lab.) is figured by Labillardiere, {J\fov.
Holl. p. 96, tab. 246,) and the St.proccra, {Blechnum, Lab.
p. 96, tab. 247.) But, alas ! when Brown will be enabled
to publish his fine drawings of these and numerous other
rare j^lants, it is impossible to foretel. After these species,
if striking affinity is to be regarded, Stegania onocleoides,
{Pteris crisfia, Willd. Sfi. 395.) must be added as interme-
diate between Stegania and Onoclea.

VIH. ONOCLEACE^. (Plate CCLIV. Fig. 18.)

Willdenow having, in the last edition of the Species
Plantarum, arranged the former Onoclea under three sepa-
rate genera, all of which possess a close affinity, there can
be hardly a doubt as to the propriety of arranging them as
a natural tribe. Willdenow's genus Onoclea now contains
only one species, the 0. sensibilis; but on the authority of
Brown, {Prodr. 152.) O. struthiopteris is added to this ge-
gus, and consequently the O-iiensijlvanica, {S. tiensylvanica
of Willd.) In all of them the involucrum is formed by
the reflex margin of the frond.

Genera
(1.) Onoclea.

Capsules densely covering the under part of the frond.
Involucrum consisting of the reflex margin of the frond,
and opening inwards.

The definition of this genus by Swartz is to be prefer-
red to that of Willdenow, until it is ascertained whether
the " indusia non dehiscentia" be really analogous with the
involucra heretofore supposed to be characteristic of Ono-
clea, as figured in our Plate, and expressed in the generic
definition.

1. O. sensibilis. This singular species is a native of
America, and was introduced into this country in the year
1699, by Bobart. It endures the climate of Britain in the
south. The sterile fronds are pinnate, the pinnse as it were
cut, hut united towards the extremity of the frond ; the
fruitful fronds arcbipinnate, the pinnulas being folded back
in a globular form. This fern possesses the singular pro-
perty of withering soon after being touched by ihe hand,
Sprengel thinks, that the perspirable matter exerts this
deleterious influence on the plant, as he repeatedly touched
it with other bodies without injury. A figure of it is gi-
ven by Morison, vol. iii. sect. 14. tab. ii. fig. 10.

2. O. strut hio fit eris {Strut hiofiteris Germanica, Wild. Sfi.)
This species is one of the rarer European ferns. It oc-
curs in the shady forests of Germany and the Tyrole, on
mountainous situations, and also in Sweden and other nor-

FILICES.

tliern parts of Europe. It is figured in Flor. Dan. tab.
169; but this figure is not very well execultel.

3. O. /iensijlva7iica, [Slrul/iiofi. /ittinytv. Wilkl. S/i. 5.
289,) is another species very like tlic last, but different in
having the lacinia; roniuled and blunt, and the undermost
acute, and longer. O. nrjdulosa of Swartz is, according to
Brown, (Prodr. ut supra,) a JVoodwardia, {^Jl'uodw. onoctco-
ides, Wilkl. S/i. 1073.)

(2.) Lomaria, (intermediate,) (Wilid. S/i. PI. 1963. Ouo-
clea, Sp. liory. and Swartz.)

Capsules densely covering the inferior part of the frond.
Involucruni continuous, marginal on each side of the frond,
and opening inwards.

Of this genus Willdenow describes eleven species, all
of which are taken from the Onoclea of Swartz, {Synops.
Pil.) and Labill. {jXov. Holl.) and Bory. {Ilin.) In affinity,
they approach so near to Onoclca, that it is difficult to give
them a determinate and distinct character, as must be the
case in all natural genera, when the intermediate links of the
series are discovered. The involucruni is continuous on
each side of the frond, and approaching nearer to that of
Pteris than of Omjciea itself. The most magnificent of the
species is the 0. Boryana, so named as a just tribute to this
celebrated botanist. It is figured by Bory. (/rin. p. \9i.
tab. 3.) himself. He found it in the barren mountainous
parts of tlie island of Bourbon, and he gave it the name of
Pteris os7nu7idoides. The sterile fronds are pinnate ; the
pinnae sessile, oblong, bluntly lanceolate, and very entire.
The fruitful fronds are also pinnate, and the pinnae are li-
near, and entire. The stem is erect, and four feet high.
The sterile fronds are two or three feet long; the fruitful
ones shorter, and their pinnae very narrow. This fine spe-
cies, like most of the other arborescent ferns, is unknown
in our collections. Willdenow is in doubt whether the L.
scandens be not an Acrostkhum,\.o which, in some measure,
the Lomaria approaches in appearance. The Lomaria va-
riabilis was also reckoned an Osmunda by Bory. (O. trifrons,')
as well as the L. fraxinea, ( WiUd.) from his not observing;
the ring of the capsules.

IX. PTERIDEiE. Plate CCLIV. Fig. 19.)

The genus Pteris, here assumed as the type of this
tribe, it is at present by far the most extensive of the whole
series. Willdenow having, in the (5/;. Plant. 5.) descri-
bed a hundred and eight species; and although Dryander
had previously, from a more accurate examination of the
structure of the involucra of certain species, with great
judgment separated from it the Lindsiea, there is scarcely
a doubt but future observers will be enabled still farther to
analyse, and more distinctly arrange, the kindred species
of this numerous assemblage. Brown, whom we have
had occasion so frequently to quote, has already observed,
" Pteris thallctroides distinctissimum genus constituit."
Pteris crisfia is, in fact, of a distinct genus, and has been
already placed by us as a species intermediate between
Stegau'a and Onoclea, until future observers be enabled to
detect its unknown associates. Pteris auriculata of Thun-
berg, in which the arched involucrum includes the groups
of capsules in an inflexed margin, must in like manner be
distinguished as a genus ; already therefore the present
Pteuides may be presumed to be a great natural tribe,
including several distinct though kindred genera.

(I.) JLindsaa (Dryander, Act. Soct. Lin. 3. p. 40. et Sni.
Act. Taur. tab. 5.)

Capsules in continuous lines, and frequently very near

the margin of the frond. Involucrum scarious, originatinj;
Irom the under membrane of the frond, and opening out-
wards.

It is to the late venerable Dryander, that we owe the
distinction of this genus from Pteris; for both Aublct and
Swartz had associated llie respective species with Adian-
tum : although they ought, he observes, in consistency with
the Linnaean character, to have been referred to Pteris,
with which indeed they have an evident affinity. Lindsda
received its name in honour of Lindsay, an ingenious bo-
tanist of Jamaica. Dryander (T'rans. Zw. Soc.) describes
nine species, of great beauty and diversity of form.

The L. rcniformis, a singular species {Lin. Tr. fig. I.
ut siifira,) has an entire reniform frond, without the small-
est indentation, the stipes being attached to the sinus,
formed by two lobes of the frond. It is to be regretted,
that in the eight species described by Dryander, we have
no account of the stem, as the examination of the
frond alone is insufficient to ascertain completely
their habit. The L, tenera, likewise figured by Dryan-
der, possesses great beauty. The frond is tripinna-
tifid, and the laciniae elegantly cut into obovateor rhomboi-
dal forms. •

In no genus are the ramifications of the vascular fasci-
culi from the stipes more beautifully displayed than in this.

To the eight described by Dryander, Willdenow has ad-
ded twelve more from Bory. Labillardiere, Swartz, Hum-
boldt and Bonpland; and to these Brown (Prodr. p. 156.)
h:;s added Z. OTfAa, with deltoid bipinnate fronds; and co-
riaceous, obovate, rhomboidal pinnules, lobed in the under
part, and elsewhere entire. The sterile fronds are serrated
at the point, and have a quadrangular stipes. This species,
like most of the others, inhabits the tropics.

(2.) Pteris.

Capsules in continuous marginal lines; and marginal
scarious involucra, originating from the inflexed upper
membrane of the frond, and opening inwards.

The species, Pt. lanceolata, and Pt. fiiloselloides, accor-
ding to Brown, belong to Tenitis, and, with Blechnum ae-
minudum, Onoclea sfiicata (Sw.), ought to be transferred
to that genus.

The following species are natives of Europe.

1. Pt. ensifolia. This species has pinnate fronds, with
very long sessile, lanceolate, tapering pinnae, and a creep-
ing stem. It is found in Spain and Algiers, and figured
under the name of Poly/iodium majus, (Barr. Jc. iv.)

2. Pt. cretica, with pinnate fronds, and the pinnae with
short footstalks, lanceolate and acuminate, narrow and ser-
rated at the base; the undermost bipartite or ternate; figu-
red by Schkuhr, Cryfit. 85, tab. 50.

3. Pt. fialustris, with pinnate fronds ; petiolated, oblong,
lanceolate, and pinnatifid pinnae ; laciniae lanceolate, sub-
crenate at the point. Native of Portugal, and figured by
Tournefort, {Inst. tab. 313.)

4. Pt. cris/ia {Stegania onocleoides nobis), Osm. crisfia,
Lighlfoot, (Bolton, Fil. tab. 7. Pt. crisfia, Smith's Fl. Br.
3. lisr. E72g. Bot. tab. 1160.)

5. Pt. arjuilitm, with a tripartite frond ; the branches bi-
pinnate ; pinns linear lanceolate ; the uppermost undivi-
ded, and the undermost pinnatifid, with oblong obtuse la-
ciniae ; figured by Bolton, (16. tab. 10; Schkuhr, tab. 96,
Cryfit.) It is singular, that this species should be so much
dispersed. It is found in the barren woods and downs of
Europe, Asia, and North America. The variety figured
by Schkuhr, (tab. 95,) originates from disease, the frond
being infested by fungi, (Sfihxria). The fern affords an
instance of the subterraneous stem common to many ferns

FILICES.

and various other plants, particularly the Graminee. On
cutting across the stem, the vascular fasciculi have been
imagined, by the superstitious, to resemble a cross ; others
have compared this appearance to a spread eagle ; and the
name has been derived from this circumstance, according
to some. But probably the remarkable appearance of the
pinnae of the frond, extending occasionally to nearly five
feet in length, has given rise to the name.

There are certain foreign species oi Pteris wjjh erect
arborescent stems, particularly the

(I.) Ft.aculeata{WiM. S/i./"/. S.) with bipinnate fronds,
and oblong acuminate pinnaiifid pinnulje, with lanceolate
pointed and serrated margins. The magnificent stem, and
the stipites, are both thorny. It is figured by Pkimier,
{Ptanies de I'JmerUjue, tab. 3.) and is a native of the West
India islands, particularly St Domingo (Hayti) and Jamaica.

(2.) Pt. escuhntai with a tripinnate frond and bipinnate
branches, linear, obtuse, crcnulate, rigid, decurrent pinnu-
!ae, the undermost subpinnatifid. This species is found in
the woods of the Society Islands and of New Holland. The
best figure is that of Schkuhr, (Cry/;;, tab. 97.) The term
esculenta is far from being appropriate, as many of these
plants abound with similar sweet mucilaginous matter in
the cellular substance of the stem. See also Br. Prodr.
Aov. HoU. p. 154. Brown has also described three new
Pcerides, approaching in habit to Adiantum,\\z. Pterisfal-
cata, Pt. nitida, and Pt. nudiuscula. Vid. Prod, ut supra.

(3.) Adiantum.

Capsules in punctiform or linear groups, and inserted in-
to the involucra formed by the inflexed margin of the frond,
and opening inwards.

This genus possesses so clearly an affinity with the one
just described, that they, as it were, pass into each other
by the Pterides adiantoidecs, just mentioned, of Brown. In
this case, we have an instance of what is seldom met with,
the natural series in a connected state, and not disjointed
and scattered, as we generally find it ; so that if the Pteris
and Adiantum cannot be well defined, our view of the series
is on that very account the more complete. In offering a
general sketch of the genus, then, the species approaching
nearest to Pteris ought to be noticed first ; but the want of
a closer examination of certain species than has hitherto
been made, renders this a most difficult task.

Of upwards of fifty species described by Willdenow,
only one has hitherto been found in different parts of Eu-
rope, and we possess it also in Britain, the .4. cafiillus ve-
neris. In this fern, the frond is alternately decompound,
the pinnulae, with footstalks, in wedge-shaped lobes ; the
involucra are kidney-shaped. It is figured by Bolton, tab.
29. This elegant species is, like some others, dispersed
not only over Europe, but is found on Teneriffe, Jamaica,
Isle de Bourbon, and South America. It varies much in
size.

Of the foreign species there are three with simple kid-
ney-shaped fronds, the A. reniforme and A. Asarifolium of
Willdenow. The first is figured by Plukenet, (^Alm. tab.
287. fig. 5.) and the second by Lamarck, (Illust. Gen. tab.
80), and Schkuhr, (tab. 115). Both these resemble each
other very much ; the frond of the first is, however, crenate ;
and of the second, very entire, and broader than long. The
third, A. /i/iili/i/ie7ise,is represented also to have a simple
frond ; but it is figured by Petiver laciniated, [GazoJUi. tab.
4. fig. 4.)

Of tlie Adianta with pinnated fronds, the Rhizophorum
affords another instance of the naked elongated point of the
frond containing buds, producing new plants. Humboldt
and Bonpland found several new species of Adiantum in

South America, particularly the A. varium, which, although
possessing, along with several other species, continued
groups of capsules, Willdenow rcicrs to this genus : Pro-
bably these may, after all, be Plcridca. The A. tetrafihyl-
him, A. poUtum, A. serraiodcntalum, and A. concinnum, were
all found in Soutii Amciica by the indefaliguble Humboldt
and Bonpland. Besides those species described by Will-
denow, the following have been since discovered Ijy Brown.

1. A. paradoxum, with pinnate fronds; the pinnie cor-
date, oblong, or lanceolate ; the veins below obsolete, and
the groups of capsules linear and continuous.

2. A. formosum, with fronds decompound, deltoid, and
leaflets tripinnate, with rhomboidal, smooth, and blunt pin-
nulas, the lower ones cut ; the involucra kidney-shaped, and
the stipes itself rough, but its ramifications smooth.

(4.) Cheilanthes, 1976, Willd. Swartz, Fii p. 5.

Capsules in punctiform or crescent-shaped groups, in-
serted into the sinus of the scarious involucrum, formed
by a portion of the margin folded back, and opening in-
wards.

The whole of the species have been separated from Adi'
antum, with which they have the closest affmity ; but the
interrupted punctiform or crescent-shaped groups of the
fruit, distinguish them; and, on a closer view, tlic capsules
ai"e seen inserted into the sinus of the involucrum. Of the
thirteen species described by Willdenow, there are three
remarkable for an agreeable odour :

1. Ch. sauveolens, Poly/iodiiim sauveolens of Desfontai-
nes, with bipinnate smooth fronds, and very entire oblong
ovate pinnulae, the inferior pinnae pinnatifid, filiform, and
hairy stipes. This species is figured by Schkuhr, (CV. 115,
tab. 19.) It is a native of Barbary and Natolia.

2. C/i. odora has also bipinnate fronds, but the pinnulaj,
instead of being perfectly entire, like those of the last, are
pinnatifid, with rounded entire borders. The stipites re-
semble the last. This species is a native of Switzerland
and Italy, and ought to be introduced into this couutry, the
climate of which it would endure.

3. C/i. fragrans has also bipinnate fronds, with oljlong,
lanceolate, obtuse, pinnatifid pinnulae, and somewhat bifid
laciniae ; the stipites chaffy. The fragrance of these three
species renders their culture an object of particular inte-
rest, yet the last is the only fragrant species as yet intro-
duced into the collection at Kew by Mr F. Masson. The
Ch.fragrans is figured by Swartz, {Syn. Fit. tab. 3. fig. 6.)
The Ch. Pteroides is also in the Kew collection. It is fi-
gured by Houttuyn, (p. 120, tab. 96, fig. 3.)

Ch. Initigera, with tripinnate somewhat villous fronds,
Avith minute orbicular folioli, is a singular species. I^Com-
ment. Petroji. x. p. 302, tab. 22. fig. 3.) The Ch. arbores-
cens is the only species with an erect stem. This is the
Lonchitis tenitifoHa of Forster.

(5.) Lonchitis, (Willd. 1977; Schreber, Gen. Plant. 1529.)

Capsule in separate crescent-shaped groups, inserted in-
to the sinuses of the frond. The involucrum formed by
the margin of the frond bent back, and opening inwards.

This genus of Schreber seems to be more conveniently
united with the last by a slight alteration of the definition;
so that his four species of Lonchitis, added to Cheilanthes,
will include, in all, twenty-four kindred species, to which
Brown has added, from New Holland.

Ch. caudata, with bipinnate somewhat triangular smooth,
pinnatifid pinnae, and round, lateral lobes. In tliis species
the groups of capsules become confluent, and the involucra
obsolete. The figure of Xonc/;;7is /;!r6!(<'a (Willd. Sfi. S.),

IILICES.

given by Sprengcl {Anleit. tab. 4. fig. 27.), affords a good
idea of tliis genus.

DavaUia (insulated), (1978, Willd. S/i. PL 5 ; Smith, Act.
Taur. 5, p. 4 14, tab. 9, fig. 6.)

Capsules in punctiform marginal disunct groups; invo-
lucrum supcriicial, somewhat hooded, opening outwards.

Linnxus rornierly united the v;>rious species of this ge-
nus Willi others, to which their external appearance and
habit seemed to point. It is a distinct genus, however, as
Dr Smith has shewn. The groups are situated on the veins
or ramifications of the vascular fasciculi, at the margin of
of the frond. Sprengcl has given an excellent figure of
the generic character, (Plate IV. fig. 33.) in D. adiantoides,
(Willd.) an arborescent species from St Domingo, figured
also by Plumier, {Jul. 8. tab. 7.)

Willdenow describes 34 species of DavaUia, but there
is certainly room for a closer examination of these, when
it is observed, that Sprengel, whose accuracy is not to be
impeached on slight grounds, gives, as an illustration of
the genus Miantum, a figure taken from a species assert-
ed by Swartz and Willdenow to be a DavaUia, \\z. dumosa.
The DavaUia hirsuta (Willd.) is Triclwmanes liirsucum of
Thunberg ; and DavaUia Cenuif'^Ua {WiWd.) is Adiantum
tenuifoliiun of Lamarck, {Encijcl. 1. p. 43.) It may be fur-
ther added, that DavaUia canaricnsis is the species which
we have selected as illustrative of the structure of the
creeping stems of this series. This was the Trichomanes
canariaisis of the 5/;. PI. (1562) and Brot. Lnsilan. p. 395.
This species, which is in the Edinburgh collection, has tri-
partite fronds alternately decompound, with lanceolate ste-
rile lacinis, and obovate fruitful ones. It is figured by
Plukenct {Jim. 156, tab. 291, fig. 2.) It is the only Euro-
pean species as yet known, and found in Portugal and the
Canary Islands.

The Da. arborescens of Willdenow, the FUix arborcs-
cens adiantoides of Plumier, {Fil. t. 6.) is found in Hispa-
niola. It is certainly difficult to devise appropriate specific
names for so many plants, which, like the ferns, resemble
each other so strongly ; but one would have thought the de-
signation arborescens rather unappropriate, unless, which
is impossible, we were certain that no other arborescent
species of the genus existed. This fern has bipinnate
fronds ; oblong, lanceolate, acuminate, and pinnatifid pin-
nulae ; oblong and bluntly laciniated, and crenate on the su-
perior margin.

The Da. elegans, figured by Schkuhr, {Crijfit. 127.) un-
der the name bidentata, is a native of Java, and has also bi-
pinnate fronds, (the undermost pinnae being themselves
bipinnate,) with oblong lanceolate, and serrated pinnulse,
•wedge-shaped at the base. This species might, from the
present connection of Java with this country, have been
easily introduced into our home collections.

X. CYATHEACEiE. (Plate CCLIV. Fig. 20.)

Sir J. Edward Smith, to whom we have had occasion so
frequently to refer, first distinguished, from the PoUj/io-
dium, the genus which we have selected as tlie type of tiiis
singular tribe of ferns. In all the tribes of the series hi-
therto noticed, the involncrum is superficial, but in this it is
formed under the groups of capsules, more or less in the
shape of a cup, and in general the capsules are attached to
a receptacle, elevated within this cup. The Dicksotiia,
which we have placed first in this link of the series, has
not a distinct receptacle in all the species ; but in sonic the
traces of one are perceptible; and we should have erred in
excluding it from its kindred genera, although in the C'ja-

thca of Smith the character is, no doubt, strongest. But
let it be recollected, that the principle of the natural ar-
rangement is essentially difTeient fiom that of an artificial
system, in which all the genera are necessarily distinct, and
their characters decided ; whereas in the natural series, the
groups approach each other by shades, irequently blended,
and are abrupt only when the links of the series are eitiier
broken or undiscovered, or perliaps lost in the numerous
changes^he surface of the globe has evidently undergone;

(1.) Dicksonia. (Willd. 1979. L'lleritier, Scri-t. An. 930.)

Capsules in distinct pointlike, or round marginal groups.
Involucruni cup-shaped, doulile, or as it were bivalve, the
true one membranous, originating fiom a vein, opening
outwards ; the other spurious, from the reflex lobule of a
pinna.

In this genus then, the cup containing the capsules is
formed by the more or less perfect union of the involucra,
and within the true involucrum, there is, in some species, a
small knob serving the purpose of the columnar receptacle
of the other genera of this tribe. Sprengel {ArUeit, t. iv.
fig. 81.) gives a correct idea of this genus in a figure of
Dicksonia Jiaccida ; the general character of Polyfiodium,
adopted by Linnaeus, including this and several others.
Indeed, from the marginal situation of the groups of cap-
sules, this genus externally resembles DavaUia ; but a care-
ful examination soon points out the difference between
them. A figure of Dicksonia Jiaccida (Willdenow and
Swartz) is given also by Schkuhr, (T. 129). This fern is
the Tric/iomanes Jlaccidian of Fov&ier, (Prodr. 472). All
the genera are foreign, and for the greater part tropical.
Several of them have arborescent, or erect stems ; although,
in order to shew the absurdity of such a specific designa-
tion, one species only is termed D. arborescens. This spe-
cies is a native of St Helena. It has bipinnate fronds, with
ovate, somewhat sharp, entire pininilas, with partly united
lobes, (Sm. Act. Taur. iii. p. 496.) The D. sjjtarrosa,
(Swartz, Syn. 136.) and figured by Schkuhr, is another
erect, or arborescent species, {Trichoinanes squarrosuniy
Forst. Prodr. 476). The D. adiantoides (Humboldt and
Bonpl.) /ronrfMu* trijilicato fiinnatis, &c. (Willd. 5. S/i. PI.)
has fronds seven or eight feet in length, the primary pinnae
two feet long; but Willdenow, as usual, omits to notice
the length of the stem, which, in some species, bears no
great proportion to the length of the fronds. Brown ob-
served, at Port Jackson, a species, the D. davalloides, much
akin to the DavaUia dubia. D. antartica. is figured by La-
billardiere {J^'ov. HoU. 2. p. 100. tab. 249.)

(2.) Alsophila. (Brown. Prodr. J^'ov. HoU. p. 158.)

Capsules in globular, distinct dorsal groups, on the
ramification of a vein; sessile and inserted into a common
elevated receptacle, situated within the involucrum, which
is sometimes multifid, and sometimes obsolete.

Of tliis genus, which was discovered by Brown in New
Holland, there is only one species as yet known, viz.
Ahopliila Aus/ralis, with decompound smooth fronds, and
bipinnate leafits, the pinnae attenuated at the point, and the
pinnules oblong, somewhat blunt, and serrate in the base ;
the involilcrum nearly divided into two halves. The stem
is erect or arborescent, and the fronds firm, and somewhat
coriaceous.

(3.) IVoodsia. (Brown, Linn. Trans, vol. xi. p. 170.
PI. 2.)

Capsules in round groups ; involucrum menibranous

FILICES.

4 O

cup-shaped, open, Uie margin divided into filaments, and
including the pedicillated capsules, without any elevated
coinmon receptacle.

This genus has an evident affinity with Jlsojihita, in
which the margin of the cups is also niultifid ; altliough
notliing like so finely divided as to have the appearance
of hairs. This line genus still further reduces the num-
ber of the Poltiliodia ; and it is to be hoped, that the ex-
cellent observer who discovered it, will continue his in-
valuable inquiries, into that and others of tiie present
genera, of tliis great series, following the injunction of our
great master — Tentanda igitur (ituries charactcrum es.'i'
matio, uncle certior eruetiir generum ordinatio., cum univer-
salis turn partialis. (Jussieu, Gen. Plant. Pre/.)

Some years since Brown observed the cup-like in-
volucrum in Woodnia (Polij/iodium, Willd. S/i. PL 5. and
Sm. Flor. Bri/anTiic.) htj/ierborea, and he has since repeat-
edly ascertained it in JVoodsia ilvensia. In fact, these two
ferns are so very nearly alike, tha^ it is diflicult to dis-
tinguish them as species. Sir J. Edward Smith describes
the P ■ ilvense (With.) and liyfierboreum of Swartz as one
species, under the name of P arvonicum. The stem of
this fern is very short, surrounded with the decayed stipites
of former years ; the fronds are from two to lour or five
inches long, obtusely lanceolate. The pinnae are distant,
lobed, bluntly triangular, and sometimes opposite, often
alternate, the hairy margin of the involucrum extending
over them. This is one of the least of our native ferns.
It is found in alpine situations, on Snowdon, Benlawers,
and others of our mountains.

(4.) Cijathea. (^m. Act. Taur. v. 5. 4,\(>. Polyfiodium,
Gen. PI. 560. Juss. IS.)

Capsules in round distinct groups, attached to a hemis-
pherical or club-shaped receptacle contained within the
cup-shaped involucrum, which opens alcove.

In this genus the capsules are attached to a columnar,
elevated receptacle, by their pedicles.

Sir J. Edward Smith at first considered three of the for-
mer Polyfwdia, viz. the P. fragile, P. rc^'/Hm, and P . den-
talum of the 6/;. PI. (1553.) as Cyathece (see Flor. Brit. p.
435.) ; but Swartz and Wdldenow, (5, 273 — 80 — 81) have
arranged these species with Anpidium ; and in fact, none
of the Cyathea have as yet been found in Europe. Nearly
the wliole of tiie sixteen species described by Willdenow
have erect stems. The C. s/ieciosa, found by Humboldt
and Bonpland, near Caripe in South America, has, like
most of the species, the aspect of a palm, being twenty-
four feet in lieight ; the fronds finely spreading, and ex-
tending five feet around the trunk, and the pinnce petiolat-
cd, linear, an inch broad, a foot long, finely pointed, and
wedgesbaped at their origin ; sinuate, and dentate along
their margins. The groups of fruit in this, as in several
of the species, are placed sparsely along the margin of the
pinnae.

The C. arborea is by no means the most remarkable
for the length of its stem, which is very hard, and covered
with the scales, so frequently abounding in the whole series.
This fern is the P. arboreum of S/i. Pi. (1554 ) Rumphius
(Amb. p. 62. t. 27.) describes other three much akin to
this West Indian species. The C. excelsa, (Arborea,
Bory.) is found in the Muuritius, with a stem twenty-five
feet high. The C. glauca, is another magnificent fern,
found by Bory. (/;m. 206.) in the mountains of the Isle de
Bourbon. The fronds have not hitherto been brought to
Europe ; but we may, in some degree, calculate their ex-
tent and magnificence [ex /lede Herculem') from that of
their pinnae, which are, according to Willdenow, eighteen

Vol. IX. Part. I.

inches long. In this species, the groups of capsules arc
siiiuited, one on each side of the middle rib of the pinnulae.
The specific term glauctm, is derived from the colour of
the under part of the pinnuiae, which, when viewed by the
microscope, seems to be owing to the minute scales with
which tliey are covered. Several species, as the C. asfiera
and C. /lorrida, have their stem and stipites covered with
hard prickles. The C. -villosa, lately found by Humboldt
and Bonpland, is rcnuirkable for having the groups ot
capsules invested with a woolly covering.

The Cyat/iea niedidlaris [Poly/iodium of Forster ; SjiltiZ'
rofiteris, Bernh.) is remarkable for the abundance of that
saccharme gummy juice which is so common, in greater
or less quantity, in the stems of the whole series, and is
used as an article of diet by the inhabitants of New Zea-
land.

Brown has already demonstrated the necessity of sepa-
rating the C. multijlora, Sm. Horrida, Sm. Ca/iensis, Sm.
and others as yet undescribed, from Cyathea, under the
designation of Hemitelia, on account of their arched in-
volucrum, with a semicircular base, inserted under the
receptacle.

(5.) Trichomanes. (Willd. 1981.)

Capsules marginal, sessile, inserted into a cylindrical
common receptacle, contained within a monophyllous
pitcher-shaped open involucrum, of a similar texture with
the frond.

Trichoma?ies brevisetum, (Br. Prodr.^ Hymenofihyllum.
alalu?n,(Eng. Sot. 1417, p. 159.) is the only species native
of Britain. As there is already a Trichomanes alaliim native
of the southern mountains of Jamaica, the present specific
name has been given to our native fern by Brown. It is
the variety (B.) of Hymcnoptiyllum Tunbridgense (Sm, Fl.
Brit. 1142.)

The foreign species Trichomanes alatum, described by
Willdenow, has pinnate fronds, and the pinnae oblong, acu-
minate, pinnatifid, and decurrent, with laciniae cut, and
dentate, ciliated on the margin, and the stipes alate, or bor-
dered with a frondose membrane ; a circumstance in which
it agrees with the Hymcnojihyllum Tunbridgense, and has
been one cause of that confusion of the two plants which
has taken place. But the monophyllous involucrum,
which is not dentate, proves the most solid distinction of
this species of Trichomanes from Ilymenophyllum, for the
external form in both genera is very much alike. In fact,
the Trichomanes and Hymenophyllum difler so much in
most respects from the rest of this great series, that were
it not from their involucra, including the groups of cap-
sules inserted into a receptacle within a cup, like the other
genera of the Cyatheacex, they themselves might be con-
sidered as belonging to a distinct natural tribe ; their
elegantly delicate membranous and nearly transparent
fronds giving them altogether a difi'erent character. Be-
sides, none of them have erect stems ; but, on the contrary,
like the Musci, their stems arc prostrate, creeping along
the moist and shelving rocks, seldom rising above a few
inches from the surface. Indeed, some species having
their involucra on slender footstalks projected from the
margin, and in the axils of the pinnce of the frond, such as
the T. radicans, T. pijxidiferum, trichoideum, and muscoides,
possess more of the aspect of inosses than of ferns.

Several of these beautiful ferns have simple or undivid-
ed fronds. The T. reniforme has very entire slipitatc- kid-
ney-shaped fronds. It is figured by Schkuhr, (Crypt. Tab.
134.) The T. cuspidatum has fronds about an inch long,
ovate, bluntly pointed and truncate at the base ; undulated,
and crenate on the margin, finely veined, and bearing tli.e
K

FILICES.

cups towards the point, on the margin ol the frond. The
T. mcmbianaccum has the fronds sessile, obovate, blunt,
and as if torn on the margin. Phxniier (/imcric. 34. tab.
50, and Fil. tab. 101,) has figured tliis singular species,
under the descriptive dtlinilion of aUiaiitum muscosum
lichrnis fietrei facie. It is also figured by Plukenet, tab.
2b5. T. muscoides \s fii^iwcd by Sloan, (J'jin. p. 73. tab. 29,
fig. 1.) under the dL-fmition of '■^ /i/iyililis scandens minima,
musci facie." The frond of T. scandens attains the height
of nearly a foot, and is among the tallest of the genus, and,
like many others, it has the fronds three or four times
pinnate. The frond of T. gigantium is also about a loot
in length ; the stem of these two, like all the rest, creep-
ing along the surface. Willdenow, in all, describes thirty-
four species.

{6.) Hymenofiliijllum. (Willd. 1982. ^m\\h,Act.Taur.
5. p. 418. tab. 9. fig. 8.)

Capsules in marginal groups, inserted into a cylindrical
receptacle, included witlnii a bivalve involucrum.

The only Biitish species is the H. 7'unbridgense of
Smith (Flor. Brie, and J^^tig- Bot. tab. 162,) with tlie frond
alternately bipiunatifid, and llie border ot the involucrum,
and the iVoncl iisell, serrate ; the cups solitary, and attach-
ed to the margin of the axils of the pinna;. It is singular
that this species should be also lound in New Holland. It
is figured by Labillardiere, (A'ov.JIol. lab. 250). Tiie
remaining thirty-five species are natives of the West
Indies and Suiith Sea islands, and of Java, Mauritius, and
Bourbon islands. Labillardieie mentions one, viz. H.
jiiisiralis, from New Holland. To these, however, lirown
has i-.dded two new species from the same country, viz. H,
raru7n and H. 7iilens, (vide Prodr. A''ov. Hoi. p. 159.) The
H. nitens, has tripmnatifid, lanceolate, smooth fronds, linear
obtuse submarginate, entire lacinse ; terminal involucra,
with ovale orbicular valves.

The Ilymenojihylluyn rarum again has bipinnatifid, lan-
ceolate, smooth, and ojien fronds, the borders on the mar-
gin very entire ; the under ones bifid ; the involucra ter-
minal, with round valves.

The Uijmenufihylla, as already observed, have all the
habit or external appearance of Trichumanes.

XI. BOTRYCHIACEjE (Plate CCLIV. Figs. 21, 22.)

The Botrychiuni, which we select as tire type of this
tribe, forms a link widely detached from the rest of this
great series. It is included in the last edition of the
Sfiecies Plantarum by Willdenow, with the Lycofiodium,
Bern/'.ardia, and Ofihiogtossum, under Stachyopterides, with
neither of which genera in fact it has any affinity whatever,
if structure is regarded, as it necessarily must be the only
solid basis of a natural arrangement. In external ap-
pearance, indeed, Ophioglossum slightly resembles this
genus. The capsules in both are closely situated on
spikes, and are globular and unilocular; but in structure
they not only differ as genera, but belong to tribes totally
distinct ; and we shall afterwards be able to sliew that the
Ojihicghssea have no relation whatever to ferns, whereas
tl;e Botrychiacee, it is clear, possess considerable affinity
with the rest of this series. 'I'hey have indeed neither
lings nor strix on their capsules. Tlic intermediate links
of the chain connecting them with the rest of the series
are undiscovered, or probably lost ; yet certain traces of
mutual affinity are, notwithstanding, manifest between
•hem, bill accompanied in Botrycliiacee, with marked

jieculiarities not hitherto observed in any of the kno'.vn
tribes of this extensive series.

The most striking peculiarity in the Botrycliiuc ■<£ con-
sists in the circinate buds of the future plants being includ-
ed within a membranous spathe, which bursts as they shoot
from the subterraneous stem ; whereas in the rest of the
series, so far as hitherto observed, the buds are invariably
covered with woolly scales. We are aware that Swartz
has denied that the buds of Botrycliium are circinate or in-
volute, in which he has been followed by Sprcngel ; but
havini;; repeatedly dissected them, as repiesented in Plate
CCLIV. Figs. 21, and 22, it is clear, that, in this respect,
they nearly approach the rest of the ferns. There is as
yet but one genus known,

Bulryc/iium. (Swartz, Syno/is. FU. 8 )

Capsules in a compound distichous spike, opening in a

direction parallel wiA their insertion.

1. B. lunaria. This is the well known Osmunda lunaria
of the Hfi. Plant. Lin. p. 15 19, and of Hoffman, Germ. II.
14. and Rotn, Germ. 1. and 444. The stipes extending to
the length of about five inches, with tlie frond bluntly
pointed, attached towards the middle. The lobes of the
pinnae are crescent-shaped, nearly sessile, and imbricated,
succulent, and of a deep gieen colour. The fruit-stalk,
with its pendulous clustering capsules, rising above the
solitary frond, possesses considerable elegance.

2. B. rutaceum, with the stipes bearing a single bipin-
natifid frond, and the laciniae obtuse, emarginate, bi or
tridentale. This is the Osmunda lanceolata of Gmelin,
(Ao-y. Com. Petro/l. tab. 1 1. Fig. 2.) and {Flor. Danic. t.
18.) It varies with two fronds. It is found in woods in
different parts of Europe. The B. malricaroides of the
north of Europe, and B. fumaroides of Nortn America,
(Wild. Sp. PL 5. p. 62 and 63.) are evidently disiinct from
the two first named species ; the fi uit-sialk in both being
naked.

'i'he remaining six species enumerated by Willdenow,
from their evidently different habits, require a closer ex-
amination. Whoever consults the accurate figure of B.
Zeilaiiicum of the Herbarium jimboinense, tab. 68. Fig. 3,
must be convinced that this supposed Botrychium has no
real affinity with the present tribe, or with the rest of the
series of ferns ; for, like Ophioglossum, this species wants
that peculiarity indispensible to true ferns, the circinate
vernation of the fronds.*

FILIGR.^NE W^oRK, or Filagree work, from filum
and granum, is the name given to a kind of ornamental
work, in which flowers. Sec. are formed of fine gold and
silver wire, curled or twisted in a serpentine form, and some-
times plaited, and worked through each other, and solder-
ed together.

This art appears to have been brought to Europe from
the East, and has been occasionally employed in all ages.
Such of our readers as take any interest in the subject, are
referred to the following works, quoted by Beckmann in
his History of Inventio7is, vol. ii. p. 245 — 247.

Halie's IVerkstate der kiinste, i. p. 101 ; Jacobson Tech-
nologisches Worterbuch, i. p. 721; Grignon Bulletin rfr.»
fouilles d'line-ville Romaine, J. p. 22.; Menage Z*jcr(&?!nai>e
Etymologique, i. p. 59 7 ; J. H. Jun^ius Disguisit. de Reli-
guiis ; accedat Lipsanographia sive Thesaurus reliquiarum
Elecloralis IJrunsuico-Luiieburgicus. Ilanov. 1783, 4to.
p. 19, 29, 56. Marsden's History of Sumatra, Lond. 1783,
p. 145. Der Mistress Kindersley Britfe van der Bisel Te-
neriffa und Ostindien, Lcips. 1777. Thomans Reiseund

The Editor has been indebted for the preceding article, to John Yule, M. D. F. K,S. E.

FILTER.

Lebensbeschreibmtgt Augsb. IfSS ; and Von Stetten Kunet-
geschichtc-, i. p. 489, and ii. p. 287. (w)

FILTER, is an apparatus employed to clarify impure
water for domestic purposes; and it is also used in many
arts, to separate the impurities fiom other fluids. A filter
acts as a sort of sieve or strainer, havinti; innumerable small
passages through which the fluid can percolate slowly ; but
as the passages are not sufficiently large, to allow the par-
ticles of matter which are mixed with the fluid to escape,
they are detained by the filter.

All springs of water wliich we are accustomed to call
pure, are only rendered so liy the effect of natural filtration ;
for the rain falling upon the surface of the earth, soaks
first into the vegetable mould with which the surface is al-
most every where covered; in passing through this, it
takes up not only dirt or earthy particles, but llie remains
of vegetable substances, which are in the jjrogrcss toward
decomposition; the water is thus rendered turbid and un-
wholesome for domestic purposes: such is the state of the
waters of most rivers which are not supplied by springs
alone, but by brooks running on the surface. Tliat portion
of the water which soaks into the enrth having passed
through a sufficient thickness of porous strata, eitherby as-
cent or descent, will have all extraneous mixtures detained,
and become clear spring water. It should be observed,
that filtration can only produce transparency, by arresting
such particles of matter as are in a state of mechanical
mixture with the fluid, for any matter which is held in che-
mical solution in the fluid will pass with it, through the
poresof the most minute filter,unlessthe substance of the fil-
ter itself should have a greater affinity for such matter than
the fluid which contained it. In this case, a new combina-
tion will be formed, and the matter in solution, leaving the
fluid, will be taken up by the filter, not simply because the
passages are too small to permit its particles to pass, but
on account of the superior elective attraction between the
substance of the filter and the dissolved matter.

Filtration, on this principle, cannot continue to produce
a natural spring for any great length of time ; because, by
the constant addition of matter, the filter will at last become
saturated with it, or choaked up. In applying this reason-
ing to springs, we shall find a reason why so few springs
produce fiure mater, although it is always transparent. In
reality, the great natural filters which produce springs, are
almost always on an opposite principle, viz. that the snb-
."itance which composes the filter has a great affinity for the
water, and its particles are thereby taken up slowly in so-
lution, and carried off at the same time that the extrane-
ous matters, which are only in mixture with the water, are
detained in the pores of the filtering strata : thus we find
"few springs which have not some mineral held in solution
by the water, although invisible to the eye; and in cases
where heat is generated in making the new combination we
have spoken of, hot springs will be produced. The most
common mineral taint which water receives in its natural
filtration, is sulphate of lime or plaister of Paris : this ren-
ders the water hard, as it is called, so that it will not pro-
duce a lather with soap, but curdles it. Sulphate ol iron
or vitriol is also frequent in springs. Add to this, that in
great towns, the drainage water which soaks into the earth
is contaminated by animal matters as well as vegetable,
and in such an olTensive state, that the filtration through
the soil can scarcely restore its purity. From all these
causes, it is found that the turbid and foul waters of rivers,
where altered by art to separate from their extraneous mix-
tures, will be more pure and wholesome as a beverage,
than the generality of spring water.

Gravel, in thick beds, is the most perfect natural filter ;

and instances may be met witli, of springs from gravel pro-
ducing water very nearly as pure as distilled water. Sand,
when white, such as that of the sea-shore, is also very good ;
but if coloured, it generally contains iron ; and where the
colour is deep, the iron is often in such excess, that it will
be communicated to the water in passing through it. Bedsof
sandstone filter extremely well, and also some porous
limestone.

The ordinary filtering apparatus is made from a porous
stone, of which thcin; aic two kinds; a sandstone procured
in Northamptonshire, and a limestone found in Derbyshire.
A thick bowl or bason is formed of the stone, and mounted
in a frame. The foul water, being poured into the basin,
drains slowly through the substance of the stone, and drops
into a receptacle below, in a perfectly transparent state.
When the water is foul, a small quantity of mud or slime
is found to collect at the bottom of tlie basin, and must oc-
casionally be cleared out; but in the course of time, the
more minute impurities will insinuate themselves into tlie
pores of the stone, and at last clog up the passage of the
water. This is remedied by chipping away the interior
surface of the stone one-half or three-fourths of an inch,
because the impurities do not penetrate deeper into the
stone; this will restore its action for a long time. We do
not approve of the ordinary figure of the filtering stone,
which is that of a bowl, because the pressure of the water
is unequal in every 'part ; it would be a preferrable form to
have a vessel of wood, lead, or pottery, and fitted with a
bottom, formed from a flu't slab of the filtering stone; and
this method would admit of constructing a much larger fil-
ter than can be done in the form of a basin of solid stone.

The Society of Arts have published a description of a
filter by Mr Moult, which consists of a vessel in which the
foul vrater is contained, and a basin of filtering stone be-
ing placed in it, the water will percolate through the stone
into its cavity, from whence it can be taken up clear and fit
for use; or the filtered water may be drawn off, by means
of a curved leaden pipe, to reach over the edge of the ba-
sin and act as a syphon, with a cock at the lower end. By
this plan of filtering the water into the basin, the deposit is
not left on the stone, and will therefore be less liable to clog
up its pores. The same principle was proposed by Mr Col-
lier ; his machine consisted of a cask, or other vessel to con-
tain the foul water. Within this vessel cylindrical tubes of
earthen ware are fixed; these tubes are closed with a hemis-
pherical end, but the otlicr end, which is open, is applied to the
sides of the vessel, and closely luted thereto, so that no water
can gain entrance into the vessel, without first penetrating
through the substance of the tube. A cock was provided
in the side of the vessel, opening within the tube to draw
off the pure water. Mr Collier proposed also to fill up the
vessel with pieces of broken pottery, which, by presenting
a great surface, would allow every facility to the deposition
of the gross inipuiities of the water, and thus avoid the
clogging up of the filter, and also render the process more
expeditious.

A patent was granted in 1790 to Mr Hempel, for a me-
thod of making filtering vessels or basins from a species
of pottery, the composition of which was four parts of to-
bacco pipe clay, mixed up with five of coarse sea, river,
or drift sand. For large vessels, this composition is
found liable to crack in the burning, equal parts of
the clay and sand were therefore recommended; and if
this was found insufiicient to prevent the tendency to
cracking, one-ninth part of Stourbridge clay, or of old cru-
cibles broken down and pounded, was to be added ;
the basins were turned in u potter's lathe, in the usual
manner.

K 2

FILTER.

Tlic fillering stones most commonly used are not the best
■kind, as they are too expensive, liiiblc to be broken ; and
will not produce so great a quantity of filtered water as
others, which, in imitation ol the great natural fillers, have
beds of gravel and sand for the water to pass through. A
very simple apparatus for domestic use, consists ot a cy-
lindrical vessel of pottery, provided with a cock to draw off
the clear water; upon this is fined another cylindrical ves-
sel, having a globular bottom, which is pierced wilh small
holes; a stratum of coarse gravel is first spread in the ves-
sel, over this a stratum of tine gravel, and above this fine
sand. If the bottom of the vessel is covered with a coarse
cloth, to keep the sand from running through the holes in
the bottom, the gradations of gravel and sand will be ren-
tlered less necessary. A plate of earthenware, or a board,
is laid upon the sand, and being peilorated wilh holes, al-
lows the water to pass, but pievenls the disturbance of the
sand when the foul water is poured in upon it, and in perco-
lating through the sand it is filtered. The fineness of the
sand and the thickness of the bed will be regulated by ex-
periment; and it is one of the grealest advantages of this
conslruclion for a filter, that it can be so readily adapted to
the degree of filiraiion which the water requires, the bed be-
ing made thick if the water is very foul, and diminished in
proportion to its purity, by which nieansthe greatest quanti-
ty of water can be passed through this filtei-. The sand
should be changed every fortnight or three weeks, to keep
the apparatus perfectly sweet and clean.

The late ingenious Mr Bramah, had a patent for various
modes of conveying ai id drawing off beeraud other liquors,
in which he describes a filtering apparatus which he pro-
posed to place in the pipes to conduct the li(|Uor. This
•was a cylindrical vessel, made of copper, tinned within, or
of any other materials; the upper end was closed by a lid
screwed on by aflaunch, and the lower end terminated in a
cone ; a pipe was introduced to the vessel near the lower part
to introduce the liquor, and from neai-the upper end a similar
pipe proceeded to convey it away. Between these two was
fixed the filtering floor, consisting of flannel, sand in bags,
sponges, or other similar substances, which were spread
upon a horizontal plate pierced full of small holes, and fix-
ed in the cylinder above the filtering substance; another
similar plate was fixed and screwed down to confine it.
The licjuor was introduced by the lower pipe by means of
a pump or otherwise, and ascending through the filtering
floor, and passed off in a clarified state : the impurities
which are separated collect in the conical bottom of the
cylindrical vessel, whence they can be drawn off by acock.
This contrivance is adapted to give a slight filtration to a
great quantity of liquor, such as beer.

In 1791, Mr Peacock took out a patent for a method of
filtering water in the large way, for the service of towns,
&c. His principle was to cause the water to ascend through
the filtering medium, instead of descending; and the ap-
paratus, except as to dimensions, very nearly resembled
Mr Bramah's, being a vessel divided in two by a horizon-
tal grate or partition, upon which the filtering medium was
spread in layers, and the lower division had a communica-
tion with a more elevated reservoir, from which the water
flowed and rose through the filtering bed. Mr Peacock
proposed to use for this, sandy gravel, sand, broken and pul-
verised glass or pottery, kc. These were to be prepared
by repeated washings, and then sorted by sieves into a num-
ber of different sizes; these are to be spread in ditterent
layers, beginning with the largest and spreading the small-
er particles over these, in a regular gradation, until the
finest is at the top. This arrangement is better than that
we have before spoken of, when the water first passes
through the finest, being less liable to choak up.

Professor Parrot of Paris, invented a filter with sand,
acting both by the ascent and descent. It is described in
the PhUoaojihical Journal to consist ol a bent tube, like an
inverted syphon, it is curved to nearly a semicircle; this
is filled with sand, and the water being introduced into the
longest or upper leg of the tube, filters through the sand,
ami passes off. At the top of the lowest leg, it is recom-
mended to have ihree inches of differen e between the
level of the two surfaces of the water, and eighteen inches
of pure sand for the water to pass through. When the sec-
tion of the tube was lour inchc by two, that is eight square
inches, it would pass six Paris pints of pure water every hour.
Mr John Isaac Hawkins has contrived a filtering appa-
ratus, which we consider as better adapted for domestic
purposes than any which we have seen. It consists of a
vessel pierced with holes, and placed over another, into
which the filtered water is to be received. A layer of
pounded charcoal is spread in the bottom for the water to
filter through; the lowest part of the layer is to be com-
posed of charcoal, pounded as fine as coarse sand; and
above this, other peices increasing in size, till the largest,
which are as large as pease; the whole is covered with a
board pierced with holes to admit the passage of the water,
but, at the same time, to prevent the charcoal being dis-
turbed when the water is pouied in. Another form of the
apparatus is very well adapted for the use of a ship's com-
pany. It consists of a cask divided by a vertical partition,
which does not quite reach the bottom, but leaves a space
for the passage of the water. The bottom of the cask is
filled with powdered charcoal, so as to reach some inches
above the space at the bottom of the partition. The foul
water being poured into one of the divisions of this cask,
is filtered in passing to the other, by being obliged to de-
scend through the charcoal on one side, and ascend through
the otaer. This machine afl'ords a great cjuantity of water ;
and the known antiseptic quality of the charcoal is of great
consequence in removing any taint with wiiich water is of-
ten attected, and which is not easily removed by any other
filter, unless indeed it is made very fine, such as a thick
fillering-slone, and this will permit the water to pass but
very slowly.

The most simple filter for experimental inquiries is
made by a piece of blotting paper, rolled up to form a co-
nical funnel, and twisted tight at the point, so that the fluid
cannot pass, except through the pores of the paper. This
funnel is to be placed in the neck of a wide-mouthed bottle,
and filled with the liquor, which will filter through the pa-
per, and drop slowly from the point of the cone in a very
pure slate.

Another method, which is still more delicate, is per-
formed by capillary attraction as well as filtration. For
this purpose, a glass is filled with tiie fluid nearly to the
brim, and a bunch of coarse cotton threads, such as are
used for the wicks of lamps and candles, is hung over the
edge, so that one end of the bunch is iumiersed in the li-
quor, and the other hangs over a small bottle or other ves-
sel destined to receive the clear fluid. In this way it will
be drawn up on one side, and conveyed through the cotton,
from the ends of which it will drip very slowly, but in a
most perfect state of purity from all extraneous mixtures.
It is scarcely necessary to mention, that the cotloii must
be wetted wilh the liquor, or the ascent will not begin when
it is first put in action. A piece of thick flannel, if it is
doubled three or four limes, will answer the same purpose
particularly well.

A very ingenious filtering apparatus has recently been
invented by Mr James Innes of Edinburgh. A piece of
wood is placed within a cylinder, containing the water,
which is forced through the pores of the wood by the pres-

FJN

FIN

■77

sure of a torcing-pump. Mr Innes has employed tiiis sim-
ple machine for purilyins; oil and other flu.'ds

For an account of Amy's filterins^ niaclnnts, see J\Tcm.
Mad. Par. 1745, Hist. 82 ; 1748, Hibt. 121 ; and Machines
Aflfrouvees, torn. vii. p. 280; Hempel, Refiertory of Arts,
vol. ii. p. 230; Collier, Tillocli's Pliil. Magazine, vol. vi.
p. 240 ; Peacock, Returtory of Arts, vol. xi. ]). 221 ; liar-
man and Dearn, Nicholson's Journal, vo\. viii. p. 126; Par-
rot, Nicholson's Journal, vol. ix. p. 40; Sir H. En;4;letield,
Nicholson's Journal, vol. ix. p. 95. See also Repertory,
vol xiii. p. 140 ; and GWhuxX'^ Journal der Physik, vol. xiii.
p. 108. (j. F )

FINDER. See Telescope.

FINE. See Law.

FINEERING. See Veneering.

FINGER-Keyed Instruments, in Music, arc in gene-
ral such as are performed upon hy touching with the fin-
gers a system of of levers, called keys, manual keys, or the
clavier. The organ, virginal, spinet, harpsichord, piano
forte, and barillons or carillons, are well known in this class
of instruments. Mr John Isaac Hawkins, a few years ago,
invented a new instrument, consisting of a rotative bow of
horse hair, that could be made to act at pleasure upon cat-
gut strings, which he denominated a Finger-keyed vial or
claviole. M. Chladni likewise invented a new instrument,
called a Keyed Cylinder. See the Monthly Magazine, vol.
xxviii. p. 5 14.

The ordinary form and arrangement oi Finger-keys, are
found well adapted to the diatonic scale, or that in which
five notes and two half notes are compiised in the octave,
two whole notes or long keys being associated together,
and three such, with a half tone between each of these
groups, which are separately called a dilone, and a tritone,
by Dr Calicott. In the former of these groups, two shorter
keys of a different colour (now usually black, the long keys
being white,) are inserted between the long ones ; and, in
the tritone, two short keys are interposed, by which the
whole douzcave, or range of 12 half notes in the octave, is
completed, and every other octave, above and below, is but
a repetition of the first.

The most conspicuous and best marked finger key in
the arrangement above described, is the long one in the
middle of the ditone, which belongs to the letter D, which
is the second ofthe natural key ; beginning therefore at C,
the letters belonging to each ofthe finger keys are as fol-
lows : viz.

C D E
Ditone.

F« G« Bb
F G A B

Tritone.

Although three of the short notes above are described as
sharps, and two of them as fats, yet common instruments
are obliged to be so tuned, that every short note may in-
discriminately serve either for the sharp of that on its left
hand, or for the^^^af of that on its right, and even so that E

and F, and B and c, may also serve as the flats or sharps of
each other resjjectively.

This very confined nature of the key-board, or system of
finger-keys, long presented a serious bar to improvement
in the tune of these instruments with fixed tones, until at
length Mr Hawkes produced his patent instruments, on
which all the five short notes might be tuned to sharps,
and, by means of a pedal, the connection ofthe keys with
these strings or pipes might be instantly loosed, and the
same short keys be made to act on another set of those
tuned 10 fats, thereby introducing 17 sounds in the octave,
but with the disadvantage of being unable to use a flat of
any one note and a sharp of another at the same time.
But these and other defects the patent instruments of M.
Loeschman and of Mr Liston now remedy, by means of se-
veral pedals, adapted to take away two sharps at a time at
one end of the scale, (See our article Succession 0/ Fifths),
and to supply to the same finger-keys two flats in the place
of them, in the order of modulation : thus, for instance, out
of the original scale that we have represented above, the
first flat pedal will remove GJ^ and C^, and supply in their
places Ab and Db ; the first sharp pedal will remove Eb
and Bb, and replace their connection with the short finger-
keys, by D^ and A^, and so on, leaving the performer all
the present uses ofthe finger-keys, except during the in-
stants when the pedals are in motion.

However perfect and easy the use of the present key-
board may seem to practised musicians without the pedals
above mentioned, a desire has long existed for simplifying
it for the use of children and beginners. This the late Mr
Charles Clagget attempted by his equal keys ; and more re-
cently Mr Trotter look out a patent for a key-board, bet-
ter adapted to the use of beginners, and for transposing or
playing music in a different key from that in which it may-
be written. See the details of this latter invention in the
i?f/;fr;or!/, vol. xxii. p. 197. (f)

FINGER-Key Intervals, in Music, or degrees of the
stave or scale, are very commonly denominated half-notes,
half-tones or semitones, and considered as equal ajnong them-
selves! as though the Isotonic system was alone in use,
notwithstanding the high probability, which has often been
mentioned, that an equal temperament has never yet been
heard on the organ, rarely so (or very near it) on the piano-
forte ; and it is certain that this system never was, or will
be, performed by the voice or violin. It is, however, of
considerable use to the musical student, to be able to class
the great number of musical intervals which present them-
selves according to the finger-key of his organ to whicli
they severally belong, and by which they can alone be
brought into use on tliat instrument, while the key-board
remains limited as at present. Fortunately, the new nota-
tion which we use, enables us to make this classification
without any trouble, because every interval, regularly ex-
pressed in Farcy's J^'otation, (See that article), has the f's
therein equal to its number of finger-key intervals, Q«//?fia/
half notes, c- chromaiic semitones of Calicott, as the fol-
lowing tabic will fully explain, viz.

FINLAND.

1 ^ >

L^viii

637

r b9

^ VIII
L«8

590

rbviii?

1 8 s

(_VII

533

fV?

Uvi

485

fbbvii?
. b? 5

^ VI

L«tfv

429

fbvi ?

1 ' i
Uv

382

fbbvi

1 »^^' I

328

Numerals

This Table has three columns, numbered at the top and
titled at the bottom, the first of which shews the number
of 2's, in the least interval that has I, 2, 3, kc. f 's respec-
tively, in col. 2 ; or, such 2's in col. 1. may be considered
as the limits between the different finger-keys numbered
1, 2, 3, Sec. in col. 2. In col. 3, sometimes 3 and some-
times 4 intervals, numerally expressed with the addition of
[j's and j:t's, are set down as belonging to each finger-key;
such pairs of these intervals as are linked together, are of
equal value, respectively, in Mr Liston's euharmonic scale.
Eacli of the finger-keys on Mr Listen's organ, yield occa-
sionally five different sounds, except the ninth, or A key,
which produces only four sounds, making in all 59 sounds
in the octave, (f)

FINLAND, a division of Sweden, but recently annexed
to Russia, is situated between 60° and 65° 23' North Lati-
tude, and between 21° 2u' and 31° 20' East Longitude from
Greenwich. It is bounded on the north by Swedish Lap-
land ; on the west by the Gulf of Bothnia ; on the south by
the Gulf of Finland; and on the east by the Russian terri-
tories. It is divided into seven provinces ; namely, the
Aland Islands, Finland Proper, East Bothnia, Tawartlaiid,
Nyland, Sawolax, aiid Keymenegard. The Aland or Oe-
land Islands, about 80 in number, and generally small, are
situated at the mouth of the Bothnian Gulf, between Upland
and Finland Proper, and in 1792 contained 11,250'iniiabi-
tants. The largest, named Aland, is about 14 leagues in
length, and five in breadth ; and its principal town. Castle-
holm, is remarkable only for its ancient fortress, where the
unfortunate Eric XIV. was imprisoned in 1571. The in-
habitants of these islands, who appear to have been origi-
nally Laplanders and Fins, live to a very great age; and
about 298 of them are registered as sailors, whose pay

from the government amounts to about 5000 rixdolhrs
yearly. In most of these islands, though included in the
government of Finland, the Swedish language is spoken by
the people ; and the Finnish tongue begins to be heard only
in Helsing.

Finland Proper, the south-west province, extends about
60 leagues from north to south, atid between 25 and 33
from west to east. It is agreeably diversified with lakes,
rivers, woods, arable fields, and pasture grounds; and,
though inadequately cultivated, is tolerably fertile. Its
towns, which are all situated on the coast, are, Abo, the
capital of the province, a bishop'a see, and the seat of»
uiiiversity, about 41 Swedish miles N. E. of Stockholm,
and containing about 8750 inhabitants ; Nystadt, a small
trading town with a good port, north ot Abo, and surround-
ed by a pleasant tract of coutitry ; liiorneborg, an ancient
but insignificant sea-port ; and Nadenhal, a little town to
the north of Abo.

East Bothnia, or Cajania, extends along the gulf of that
name to the northern extremity of Finland, and is upwards
of 100 leagues in length, and between 30 and 70 in breadth.
The country on the coast is level and marshy, and a ridge
of hills runs along the south and east boundaries of the
province. The towns, as you proceed northwards, are,
Christinastadt, a small place near the south border, with a
harbour of difficult entrance ; Wasa, a sea-port town, ra-
l)idly increasing in trade, provided with a tribunal of justice
lor the north ol Finland, and containing, in 1790, about 4000
inhabitants; Gamla Carleby, a small but regular town,
about 34 leagues S. \V. of Ulcaborg, situated in a sandy
and marshy countiy,and containing about 1400 inhabitants;
Brakestadt, a small sea-port, which carries on some trade,
contains about 800 people, and is about 20 leagues north of
the last mentioned place; and Uleaboig, the capital of the
province, a trading town at the mouth of the rapid river
Ulea, with a very bad haibour, containing about 4000 inha-
bitants, and celebrated for its exports of salmon and tar;
Tafwartland, or Tavastia, situated to the eastward of Fin-
land Proper, is about 80 leagues in length fiom south-west
to north-east, and between 20 and 30 in breadth. It is the
most fertile and beautiful district in Finland, but is very
thinly inhabited, and poorly cultivated. It is mountainous
towards the north; and towards the south full of lakes, one
of which, named Pajana, is 80 miles long, and 15 broad.
Its principal and almost only town is Tamastthus, or Kro-
neborg, a small place, situated in a fertile spot on the banks
of a lake, about 28 miles N. E. of Abo.

Nyland stretches along the north coast of the Gulf of
Finland about 40 leagues, and is between 15 and 18 in
breadth from north to south. It is level, fertile, and in
some parts tolerably cultivated. Its towns are, Ekenas, a
small sea-port, about 50 miles south-east of Abo ; Helsing-
fors, the capital of the province, provided with a good har-
bour, and defended by an immense fortress, called Sweia
Borga, standing on a rocky island at the entrance of the
port, capable of containing 7000 men, and designed as a
bulwark against the encioachments of the Russians; Bor-
go, a small but ancient town, about 10 leagues eastward of
t!ie last mentioned, pleasantly situated on a hill, and con-
taining a university, or rather academy, taught by seven
professors ; Lovisa, or Degerby, formerly the frontier town
between Russia and Finland, built in the midst of a re-
markably stony or rather rocky country, but provided with
a very convenient harbour.

Sawolax, an inland province to the north of Nyland, ex-
tends about 70 leagues from north to south along the con-
fines of Russia, and about 30 from west to east. It is cov-
ered with forests, rivers and lakes. The lake of Saima,
which is nearly 160 miles in length, and 25 at its greatest

FINLAND,

breadth, lies partly in this province, and partly within the
Russian territories, and has a communication with lake
Ladoga by means of the rapid river Voxen. Its principal
town, Nylot, is situated near tlie south border.

Keymenegard, which lies on the south-cast extremity of
Finland, is naturally fertile, but thinly inhabited, and almost
destiuue of cultivation. Its chief town is Kuopio ; but the
districts of Carelia and Kexliolmo, once belonging to this
province, have long been included in Russian Fuiland.

Russian Finland, forming the province of Wybourg, was
ceded by Sweden, partly in 1721, at the peace of Nystadt,
and partly in 1741, by the treaty of Abo; and contains six
districts, — Wybourg, Fredericksham, Wilmanstrand, Ny-
slot, Kexholme, and Sardobol. The whole of Finland, in-
deed, is now to be included by the geographer, within the
wide extent of the Russian empire. After having been the
sceneof many blo.wly struggles between the Swedes and Rus-
sians, it was completely overrun by the latter power in 1808,
and soon after formally ceded by treaty. It was lost by the
folly and incapacity of the late monarch of Sweden, who
left its brave defenders to sink under an overwhelming-
force, while he was vainly intent upon the reduction of
Norway and of the Danish islands in the Baltic.

Finland contains about 48,780 square miles, and 700,000
inhabitants. It is covered with numerous lakes, which give
rise to several rivers, generally rapid, but soon reaching
the end of their course. The chief of these are the Ulea
at Uleaborg, which is navigated by trading vessels, though
its stream is so rapid, that the ships run down the river at
the rate of 18 English miles in the hour; the Cano, which
passes Biorneborg ; the Aurajoki at Abo, about 100 yards
broad, and remarkable for its muddy waters ; the Kymen,
■which flows into the middle of the Gulf of Finland, and
forms the boundary between Swedish and Russian Finland.

The mountains of Finland often contain a bi'own mixture
of felspar and mica. Lead ore is found in various parts,
and a ferruginous earth from which iron is extracted.
There are, in many places, very extensive forests, and one
particularly to the north of Abo, about 80 miles in length.
Great devastations are occasioned in these forests by the
tempests of winter, which seem to find access to the very
centre of the wood, by descending in the manner of a
tornado, and which tear up by the roots, or break in the
middle of the trunk, or bend to the earth, the most enor-
mous pines. Frequently also similar ravages are com-
mitted by conflagrations, occasioned by the carelessness
of the peasants in smoking their pipes and making firts
in the woods; and sometimes, it is suspected, intention-
ally kindled, from an interested motive, as the inhabi-
tants are allowed to cut down, for their own use, any trees
'in the king's forests, which have been injured by the
burning.

The climate and seasons of Finland vary considerably
in different parts of the country, according to their latitude
and situation. At Uleaborg, which is the most northerly
town, the winter commences in October and continues to
the end of April. The spring is limited to the month of
May; the summer begins in June, and lasts three months ;
the autumn, like the spring, is confined to one month, and
both commences and terminates in Septenibei'. Even in
summer the night frosts are pretty sharp, particularly
about the middle of August; and in the e?ul even of July,
the pot herbs in the gardens have been known to suffer
from the frost. From the beginning of summer, however,
the progress of vegetation, as in most other northern lati-
tudes, is remarkably rapid ; and there have been instances
of grain being sown and reaped in the neighbourhood of
Uleaborg, in the space of six weeks. In the southern
parts of the country, near the Gulf of Finland, the heat in

summer is equal to what is generally experienced in
Portugal ; and the long continuance of the sun above the
horizon increases the temperature above that of more
southern coiuitries. At Uleaborg, the mitldle temperature
ol the four seasons, according to a mean proportion of 13
years, was found to be in winter 10 degrees below zero, in
spring and autumn six degrees above the freezing point,
and in summer 15°.

The surface of the country, besides what is occupied by
large lakes and forests, is frequently covered with marshes
and masses of stone ; but not more so than other parts of
Sweden, and, excepting F^ast Gothland, is not less fertile
and populous. The soil is generally of a sandy nature, or
clay; and it is only in the valleys or banks of rivulets,
that the proper earthy mould is to be seen. Finland, how-
ever, presents to the view many rich pastures, and fields
of gram, ^larticularly of rye, oats, barley, and even wheat.
The principal exports of the country are salt, iron, copper,
pitch, tar, deals, rye, butter, oil of seals, skins, tallow, salt-
beef, dried fish, and vessels built of fir; but the mode of
agriculture and kinds of produce are so similar to those
of Sweden in general, that we refer to the account of that
country for a more particular statement on the subject.
It may here, however, be remarked, as a curious circum-
stance, that the Finnish plough is of a very ancient model,
and resembles the primeval instrument of agriculture in
Egypt bind other eastern countries. Its form is that of an
alpha placed horizontally, and having one side shorter than
the other <f , which, being tipped with metal, enters the
ground, while the cattle arc attached to the longer limb :
(See Clarke's 7VaDif/s, vol. iii. p. 216.) The Fins appear to
have been the original inhabitants of Sweden, and to have
proceeded from their settlements around the white Sea, a
country formerly styled Permia, or Biarmia, and still exhi-
biting remains of their ancient prosperity. They are short
in stature, with Oat f:iccs, dark grey eyes, a thin beard,
tawny hair, and a sallow complexion ; but those who inhabit
the more southern and western districts of Finland, while
they retain the national featrires, have a superior appear-
ance, and are scarcely lo be distinguished in their manners
from the Swedes. In Russian Finland, however, they have
a slowness of motion, a depression of spirits, a simplicity,
and almost stupidity of look, which form a striking con-
trast with the lively aspect, alert movements, and cheerful
humour of the Russians; but these circumstances mny
be chiefly owing to their condition as a conquered pcojile,
imitating and dreading their masters. More hardy than the
Muscovites, they are not so warmly clothed, and seldom
wear the sheep skin; but have a coat of coarse woollen
stuff', made without regard to shape, and tied round the
body with a band, a pair of coarse linen drawers, or loose
pantaloons, straw shoes, and pieces of woollen cloth or
ropes of straw wrapped round their legs.

It is chiefly in the northern parts of Finland, or rather
in Lapland, that the ancient Fir.nish language is heard.
Along the gull's of Finland and Bothnia, the Swedish lan-
guage prevails in the towns ; and the peasantry speak a
mixed dialect of both tongues. The Fins were subjugated
by Eric IX. King of Sweden, and converted to the Chris-
tian faith in 1136; and from that period, literature, espe-
cially poetry, began to be more generally cultivated among
them. The verse which they employ is called Runic, in
which the lines consist of eight syllables, a long and a
short in succession; but instead of terminating in rhymes,
they begin with alliteration, having at least two or more
words wliich agree in the same letter or sound, as in the
following specimen :

Nuco nuco pico Unto
Wessi wessi wester eki.

FINLAND.

These Runic verses arc rarely committed to the press,
or even to writint;, hut are chiefly transmitted hy oral
communication ; and none are found of an earlier date than
the era of the Reformation.

In the more inland districts, the peasantry are much
addicted to this species of composition ; and many of them,
unaided hy cducalion, are capahle of producing these
verses on ordinary subjects, sometimes in a great measure
extempore. The recitation or composition of such soni^s,
sometimes accompanied with tlie liarp, forms one of the
most frequent amusements of the country people at fairs
and private meetings. On these occasions, the reciter or
poet stands in the midst of a circle of auditors, and having
sung or delivered one line, a coadjutor, taking up the last
word, or the last but one, finishes the line along with him,
and then repeats it alone ; which gives the speaker time
lo recollect or compose the succeeding line, which he then
sings, and his assistant repeats in like manner, until the
poem is ended.

The Finnish language abounds in proverbs, bearing
much resemblance in their form to those of Solomon, and
generally expressive of sound sense and acute remark.
They are mostly in Runic or alliterative verse, and divi-
ed into two hemistichs, the latter of which contains an
illustration of the former. " A good man spareth from
his peck, but the wicked will not give from a bushel." —
" The wise man knowetli what he shall do, but fools try
everything." — " The work is ended which is begun ; there
is time lost to say, what shall I do ?" — " The tool of the
industrious man is sharp, but the plough-share of the fool
wanteth grinding."

The inhabitants of Finland are not less sensible to the
influence of music ; but, owing probably to the imperfec-
tion of their national instrument, they have not made much
progress in the art. Their native instrument, the harfiUi
consists of five strings or chords of metal, each of which
sounds a distinct note, a, b, c, d, e, and within the com-
pass of these five notes, the whole of their music is con-
fined. But the violin has been introduced in later times ;
and the music of the Finlanders is beginning to acquire a
more varied character.

Their dancing consists in the most rustic jumping,
without any variety of step or motion, except alternately
laying the arms over each other; and the whole exercise
is performed with sufficient vigour, but with entire gravity,
and most unexpressive countenances.

The houses in Finland, and frequently even the churches
and other public edifices, are constructed of wood, gene-
rally painted red ; but they are nevertheless sufficiently
warm, and sometimes too much so for the feelings of those,
who are not accustomed to a close atmosphere. The
habitations of the peasants are well built, and afford com-
plete protection from the severity of the winter cold ; and,
notwithstanding the long duration of that season, and the
seeming sterility of the soil, the people are in many res-
pects better provided than the same class in more southern
regions. They can generally set before the traveller at
least fresh and curdled milk, salt herrings, or a little salt
meat; and they are rich in all that they consider as con-
stituting the enjoyments of life. If at any time they have
more money than their immediate wants require, they
either lay it up for future emergencies, or convert it into
some domes.'.ic utensil; and it is not uncommon in a small
wooden dwelling, to see the water presented in a silver
vessel of the value of 50 or 60 rixdollars. The women
are warmly clotlied, and above their other garments wear
a large linen shift, which gives them the appearance of
being in an undress. In the house, the men generally
throw off their coat, and even in that manner perform

their ordinary labours in tlie open air; but when they go
out to a greater distance in the winter season, they wear a
kiiid of short coat made of calf-skin, or a woolleii suriout,
fastened round the middle with a girdle ; and pull over
their boots coarse woollen stockings, both for warmth and
for safer walking on the ice. Most of the peasants have
a small house for the purpose of taking a warm bath,
which is done in the following manner. A number of
stones in the innermost part of the ciiamber are heated by
fire till they become red; and water being thrown upon
them in this state, the bathers are involved in a cloud of
thick vapour, in an atmospliere of 70 or 75 degrees of
Celsius. In this heate<l and oppressive air, they remain
naked for the space of half an hour, or even a whole hour,
rubbing their bodies, or lashing them with bunches ol
twigs; and frequently go out without any covering to the
open air, or even roll themselves in the snow, when the
degree of cold is 20° or 30° below zero; thus making au
instantaneous transition of 100 degrees, which is almost
equivalent to a passage from boiling to freezing water.
This practice, they affirm, has a most invigorating effect
upon their frames, and recruits their strength as much as
rest or sleep.

The Finnish peasantry are at all seasons busily em-
ployed in active labour; and even in the depth of winter
find abundance of employment both in the house and
abroad. Within, they are engaged in making nets, con-
structing cart wlieels, forming faggots for fuel, or thresh-
ing their corn ; and out of doors, they cut down timber,
and easily drag over the ice or snow such enormous trunks
as they could scarcely be able to move in summer. Fish-
ing and hunting maybe considered as their necessary avo-
cations, rather than voluntary amusements. In fishing
with hooks, they scour over the ice in long wooden pat-
tens, pushing themselves along with incredible velocity,
by means of a pole which they hold in their hands; and
when they have reached the place where they intend to
fish, they spread a triangular sail to shelter them from the
wind, perforate the ice with a chisel, plunge their line into
the sea to the depth of about 30 feet, and are sometimes
obliged to continue stirring the surface of the water to
prevent it from freezing. In fishing with nets, they make
two openings in the ice, and by means of ropes and long
poles pass the nets from the one to the other, which they
afterwards draw out with great labour. In autumn, when
the frost begins to set in, and the ice is most transparent,
the fisherman courses along the rivers with a wooden club
or mallet in his hand ; and when he observes a fish under
the ice in shallow water, he strikes a violent blow perpen-
dicularly above it, which at once breaks the ice and stuns
the fish, so that he easily siezes it with an instrument
made for the purpose. In hunting the seals, they take post
in the neighbourhood of their haunts, behind a mass of ice,
and wait till one of them comes out of the water. It fre-
quently happens, that the hole in the ice by which he as-
cends is frozen over almost instantaneously ; and the hun-
ters then fall upon iiim, before he has time to make a new
aperture with his breath, or at least before he can reach
the opening, should it still be passable. In these extremi-
ties the animal makes a desperate resistance, seizing the
clubs with his teeth, and attempting to reach the assailant ;
but the slowness of his motions renders his efforts unavail-
ing, and he is soon despatched without much risk. The
Finlanders' mode of hunting the bear requires a greater
degree of intrepidity and presence of mind. Instead of a
musket, which might be injured by the damp, and prove
a very imcertain weapon, the hunter uses an iron lance
fixed at the end of a pole, and having a cross bar about a
foot distant from the point. When the bear has been irri-

FIN

FIR

tated to rush from his den, and is rearing himself on his
hind legs to seize his daring antagonist, the peasant draw-
ing back the iron lance close to his breast, so as to con-
ceal the length of his weapon, and render the animal less
watchful against its stroke, advances boldly within arm's
length of the bear, and plunges the point into his heart.
The cross bar prevents the lance from passing through
the body, keeps the animal from reaching the hunter with
his paws, and serves to throw him on his back, while the
wounded bear hastens his own death by holding the wea-
pon fast, and pressing it more deeply into the wound. A
still more hazardous enterprise is the seal hunting in the
spring, after the frozen sea breaks u]), and the ice floats
in shoals upon the surface. Four or five persons set sail
in an open boat with one small mast; and expose them-
selves during the space of a month or more, and in the
most unfavourable circumstances, to all the dangers of the
ocean. In this pursuit their little bark is continually placed
between masses of ice, which threaten to crush it to pieces ;
and in order to reach the seals, they must creep along the
floating shoals, killing them as they repose upon the ice.
During the same season they hunt the squirrel, which
they kill with a blunt wooden arrow, shot from a cross-
bow, that they may not injure the skin. The bow used in
this sport is of a very ancient construction, extremely hea-
vy, and requiring great strength to bend it, even with the
assistance of a thong. The peasantry are remarkably dex-
terous both in the use of this bow and of the fowling-piece,
loading the latter always with ball, and rarely missing the
smallest bird. They employ for this purpose a kind of
rifle gun with a narrow bore, which requires but a very
small charge, and yet carries to a considerable distance.
The winter also is the principal season of traffic ; and all
the great fairs are held in Finland and Sweden in that
time of the year, in consequence of the facility of carrying
goods over the ice, and travelling in sledges on the snow.
The peasants on these occasions frequently undertake jour-
nies of three or four hundred English miles, carrying along
with them whatever articles they have for sale. In Fin-
land, the sledges are very narrow, containing only one per-
son, and drawn by a single horse ; and the roads arc deep
ruts formed by the successive passage of these vehicles,
thus admitting none of a larger size than what are gene-
rally used in the country. The circumstance of being
overturned is rarely productive of any serious conse-
quences; and the dangers attending the traveller arise
chiefly from those parts of the rivers or lakes where the
ice is insufficient to support the weight. Excepting the
bear, which rarely comes from his den to attack the inha-
bitants, until he is first provoked, the only other savage
creatures in the country are wolves ; and those, even when
starving, will not venture singly to assail the passenger.
When assembled, however, in herds, and impelled by fa-
mine, they sometimes rush upon the horses in the sledges;
and should the traveller be overturned and left upon tl>e
road, he must fall a prey to their ferocity.

Many strange and sometimes indelicate customs prevail
among the inhabitants, some of which will come more pro-
perly to be noticed under Sweoen, as being common to
both countries, and others of them under Lapland, where
these ancient peculiarities have suffered least change. A
Finlander, when about to form a matrimonial connection,
commissions some old women to make known his propo-
sals to the object of his affections, and at the same time
sending a present of a handkerchief, ribband, or piece of
money. The messenger waits upon the young woman
while undressing at night, and after dwelling on the praise
of the lover, slips his gift into tlie fair one's bosom. If the
present is retained, the young people consider themselves

Vol. IX. Part I.

as mutually engaged, and nothing but the marriage cere-
mony is wanting. But if the present be returned, this in-
dicates a refusal, which may nevertheless yield to a second
proposal, unless the young woman, instead of returning
the gift with licr hands, suffers it to drop to the ground,
which is counted a positive token of decided rejection. At
the marriage, one of the friends or neighbours, with the
orator or speaker, does the honours of the feast, wlio gene-
rally also recites verses, or makes them extempore, suita-
ble to the occasion ; and, on the day following, after ad-
dressing some advices to the married couple, he strikes
the woman repeatedly round the body witli the husband's
breeches, commanding her to be fruitful, and to furnish
him with heirs of his own body. In some places, a prac-
tice resembling the bundling of the Americans, is said to
exist. Both in the towns, and among the peasantry of
Finland, a stranger experiences the utmost kindness and
hospitality. He is always treated as the first person in the
company, and every endeavour is made to consult his taste
and gratify his feelings. Even among the principal inha-
bitants of the towns, a strange and rather startling mode
of testifying satisfaction with a visitor is practised by the
ladies, who, as soon as the entertainment is concluded,
give him a slap upon the back wlien he is least expecting
it; and the more forcible the application of the hand, the
stronger is the declaration of good will. The peasants dis-
play great disinterestedness in their services to strangers,
and can seldom be induced, without considerable importu-
nity, to accept a pecuniary remuneration for any occa-
sional assistance, which they may have rendered. Sec
Coxe's Travels in Russia, is'c.; Acerbi's Travels in Siue-
den, ifc. ; Wraxal's Tour round the Baltic; Swinton's
Travels into A'orway, is'c.; Clarke's Travels, vol. i. (y)

FIRE-EscAPES, are machines for enabling persons to
descend from the windows of a house when it is on fire,
and when the stair-case and passages are so filled with
the flame or smoke, as to prevent a retreat by the ordina-
ry avenues : Some of these machines are contrived to con-
vey down valuable goods as well as people.

A person who is awakened from a profound sleep by
the flames of a fire, which has already made such progress
as to cut off all retreat, has no other alternative than leap-
ing from a window, perhaps of great height, or perish-
ing by the flames. This is a situation so dreadful, as to
demand every exertion of ingenuity, and every regulation
of the police, which can contribute to the relief of the
sufierer. Frequently , as this tragedy is repeated in Lon-
don, every new instance makes a lively impression on
the public mind, and rarely fails to give rise to the inven-
tion of some new Jire-esca/ie ; yet still we do not find aiiy
of these adopted so generally, as to remedy the evil. This
may be owing, either to the inefficiency of the contrivances,
or to the neglect of the magistracy to provide a proper
number.

Machines for this purpose are of two different kinds,
first, those which are intended to operate from the street
below, and can be cjuickly erected to communicate with
any window : Of this kind are ladders, and poles with pul-
lies and ropes to draw up a basket, also a variety of cu-
rious and complicated machines or elevators ; of course
all such machines must be kept at the public expence,
for the service of a whole parish, in the same manner as
fire-engines, and must be made to remove very readily.
The other kinds of fire-escapes are those which can be
fixed to a window, and allow tiie unfortunate sufferer to
descend safely into the street. Machines of this kind are
intended to be kept in the bed-rooms of the house ; and
each house must be provided with one at least, to render
the contrivance generally effective. Both kinds have their

FIRE-ESCAPES.

inconveniences ; the first, fiom the tlifticully of conveying
tliein with dispiUcli from the places where tlicy are depo-
sited, to llie situation where they are to act : This ol)jcc-
tion lliey have in common witli lire-engines; but it is here
more sensibly felt, because the fiie-escapes which have
been made, are but very few in number; nor can it in-
deed be expected that they will be generally provided,
unless parishes were obliged by law to keep tire-escapes
as well as fire-engines, and in this case the same regula-
tions might be applied to both.

At present, in London, and some other large towns,
fire-ladders are kept in every church-yard, for the service
of any fire which may happen within a reasonable distance.
This regulation is in a great measure rendered useless
from inattention in tlie keeping of the keys of the locks,
Aviiich are applied to prevent tlie ladders from being im-
properly removed. A key is generally deposited with each
churchwarden, and one with the clerk of the parish ; but
the nearest watciiman, or every patrole, should be pro-
vided with a key, that no delay may occur in rendering
assistance. A melancholy instance of llie necessity of this
regulation occurred in London a few years ago, when three
persons were burned, at the windows of a house, from
Avhich they had a sight of the fire ladders; but llie church-
warden, who lived at some distance, could not be awaken-
ed to procure the key until too late.

We have seen, some years ago, a long ladder, provid-
ed with a pair of wheels, which were fitted upon an axle-
tree attached to the lower end of tiie latkier, within about
three feet of the extremity. A weight was attached to the
end of the ladder, to counterbalance so much of its weight,
that one man, by tieading upon the lower end, could ele-
vate it upon the axle of the wheels; but when raised to
about an angle of 65 degrees, the end of the ladder touch-
ed the ground, and therefore if it was elevated more than
that, the wheels were borne oft' the ground, and left the lad-
der to support itself independent of them.

This simple addition of wheels to a fire-ladder is of
great advantage, not less in conveying it to the place, than
in rearing it, which is always a work of much labour, and
among those who are unused to it, of no small difficulty.
With the wheels, nothing is more easy, the weight being
balanced, and three or four men can draw it along the
streets as quick as they can run, whereas, at the utmost,
they can only walk quickly when bearing a long ladder on
their shoulders, from the difficulty of stepping exactly equal
paces. Tiie length of the ladder should be from 25 to 30
feet, according to the kinds of houses in the neighbourhood
where it is to be kept. This simple contrivance appears
to us of more utility than any other fire-escape which
we have seen proposed. Amidst the number of ingenious,
but complicated machines, which have been rewarded
;md published by different learned societies, we have no
doubt that a suflicient number of fire-ladders, thus mount-
ed, and kept as the ladders now are in the church-yards,
would be the most effective provision that could be made
against accidents of this nature. As we are not altoge-
ther without hopes of seeing this arrangement adopted,
we shall add a few words on the best and most economical
method of constructing such machine ; because when great
numbers are required, the expence is an object of atten-
tion. The two spars of the ladder may be formed out of
a clean piece of fir, such as is used for masts and oars.
Each should be about five inches by three at the lower
end, and regularly tapering up to three by two at the
other; now, as the spars are much weakened by the holes
bored through them, for the rounds or steps, we propose
to use another method, and at the same time to truss the
spars, to render them more strong. For this purpose, each

is to be divided from the middle to within three or four
feet of each of its ends, by a saw-kerf, made in the direc-
tion of the length of the ])icce ; a wedge is then to lie
driven into the cleft, to open it in the middle, to a width
of eight inches, and small blocks of wood are to be fitted
into the opening, which will be eight inches wide in the
middle, and gradually diminishing to nothing towards the
ends, where the spars have not been divided. One of these
blocks should be placed at the proper place for every
round or step which is intended to be made in the ladder;
and the ends of the rounds are to be fixed in these pieces,
except towards the ends, where the cleft being narrow, the
ends of the rounds themselves being made square, may be
fitted in the opening instead of the blocks. The blocks
and the ends of the rounds, where they touch the insidcs
of the opening, should be let into the wood the eighth of
an inch to prevent them fiom moving. The whole is to
be bound fast by slight iron hoops, driven on fi'om the
ends, and particularly at tiie solid ends, to prevent the
opening splitting farther than was intended. By this method
a ladder is formed of very great strength, without increas-
ing the weight. It is the same mode of strengthening
spars, which has been proposed by IMr G. Smart, for tem-
porary yards for ships. The wheels of the ladder should
be of the largest size used for phaetons, which is about
five feet eight inches, with twelve spokes. It is an ad-
vantage to have the wheels as large as possible, because
a smaller balance weight will then be sufficient. The
weight should be of cast iron, and fixed across between
the two spais, in the manner of a cross-rail at the extreme
end, so that it will be as far as possible lemoved from ih«5
axle.

From a machine of this kind we may expect all that can
be done by a simple ladder ; but by the addition of a rope,
pulley, aird b .sket, it may be made capable of lowering
goods, or helpless and infirm persons, and children. The
pulley should be suspended from a round, at about three
feet from the upper end, which round must in that case be
made of iron. The rope should be rather more than twice
as long as the ladiler, and of a sufficient strength to bear
four hundred weight. The basket should be very shallow,
and surrounded by a strong sack-cloth, so as to be rather
a sack with a basket bottom, and a hoop in the mouth to
keep it extended ; this will fold, and lie close to the under-
side of the ladder, where it should always be lashed by the
spare end of t!-e rope, the remainder being extended be-
tween the pulley and the lower end of the ladder, so as to
be in no danger of entanglement. In this way, the opera-
tion of the ladder will not be at all impeded, and the rope
will always be ready for action, by untying the end of the
rope, and thus releasing the basket. This rope will be
extremely useful to haul up the leathern pipe or hose of
an engine ; and the fire-man ascending the ladder, will be
able to direct the jet to the greatest effect into the win-
dows of the first, second, or third floor, the rope sustain-
ing the weight of the pipe, which would otherwise be too
great for one man to hold when upon the ladder.

A machine is described in tlie Annual Register, some
years ago, with a rope and basket; but a pole from 36 to
46 feet in length was used in place of the ladder. This
pole had the pulley fitted into a mortise, at three feet from
the upper end ; it had also at each end an iron cross bar
fixed, to project perpendicularly on each side, one to bear
against the wall, and the other upon the ground, and form
a foot to keep the pole steady. To assist in raising the
pole, two smaller poles or handles were connected with
the great one, at two or three feet above its middle, by
eyes which admitted a motion in every direction. Several
persons could apply their force very advantageously at the

TIRE ESCAPES.

eiicls of these poles, to elevate the great one ; and when it
was raised, the poles formed legs like a tripod, to strength-
en the great pole, and pievent it from bending in the mid-
dle. It is stated that a pole of this sort was elevated, and
two or three persons lowered from the upper windows of
a house, into the street, in the space of 35 seconds, or
rather more than half a minute. Still, as the pole was five
inches diameter at tlie base, and three at the upper end, it
could not, with the addition of the side poles and basket,
be rendered very portable, and, from its length, it would
be troublesome to turn the angles of narrow streets, and
therefore we prefer the ladder with wheels, which is ex-
tremely easy of transportation, and which, from the facility
of raising it by the balance weight, can be elevated to turn
a narrow corner. If it is trussed, as we have described, it
will have as much strength as the pole, when propped in
the middle by the two short ones.

We think it is scarcely necessary to describe any other
machines, except very briefly. The principle of several
of them is to have two, three, or four ladders, fitted one
upon the other, or rather one within the other, and provid-
ed with a tackle by which they can be elevated to the
height of the window. The most complete of this kind is
described by the Society of Arts, in their Transactions,
vol. xxviii. The base of the machine is a four wheeled
carriage, with a pair of shafts for a horse to draw it. The
lowest of the three ladders is fitted in the carriage by a
bolt, on which it can be inclined sidewise at pleasure, to
reach the window, and retained at any elevation by a frame
with screws. The three ladders are made to fit one within
another, and provided with iron clamps to confine them
together. In the back of the frame, beneath the ladder,
is a windlass, which receives the ropes for sliding up the
ladders. These consist of two parallel ropes, proceeding
from the windlass, and passing over two pullics, fixed at
the upper end of the principal or lowest ladder, and the
ends are made fast to the bottom of the second ladder.
Thereforp, by turning the windlass, the ropes are drawn,
and the second ladder is elevated upon the first. The
third ladder is likewise provided with two parallel ropes,
passing over pullies. at the top of the second ladder, and
attached to the bottom of the third; but the opposite ends
of these ropes, instead of being carried down to the wind-
lass, are made fast to any part of the lower ladder : in this
way they have the same etfect to raise up the third upon
the second, when that is elevated upon the first by means
of the windlass. The remainder of the apparatus is a
windlass, in front of the machine, with two ropes passing
over pullies at the top of the highest ladder, and suspend-
ing a box or chest, in which the goods are to be lowered
down. The upper end of the ladder is provided with a
bent iron bar, to lean against the window, and thus retain
the top of the ladder at such a distance from the wall, as
to admit the box to ascend and descend clear of it.

We have seen another machine on a different principle :
it-s carriage supported an upright post, which was fitted to
turn round in the manner of an axis. The top of it formed
the fulcrum of a very long lever, which, at one end sup-
ported the basket, and at the other a considerable balance-
weight. The height of the vertical pillar was such as to
raise up the centre of the lever to about half the height
from which the descent was intended to be made. The
lever then required to be sufficiently long to reach to the
window, when elevated at an angle, and also to the ground
when its end was depressed. The lever had an arch or
toothed sector attached to it, beneath the centre, and this
was worked by a pinion with wheel-work, by which two
men, turning a handle and standing upon the platform,
could command the elevation of the lever, and the basket

attached to it. By raising the end to the height of the
window, and turning the vertical axis round, they could
make the end of the lever enter the window, and the per-
sons having put themselves into the basket, the end was
to be a little raised ; then, by turning the vertical axis the
basket was brought over the street, and lowered safely
down by the men at the handle. The basket could again
be elevated, and another person brought down with equal
ease. The only objection to this machine is, that the
lever would require to be of such a great length, and hav-
ing no support at its ends, would require a cumbersome
framing, to render it sutficiently strong. A simple and
effective mode of trussing would be Mr Smart's plan of
dividing the rod lengthwise by a saw kerf, and introduc-
ing blocks to swell the beam in the middle, and give it
stiffness, as we have before described of the ladder. A
boom and stays, to act like the shrouds of a ship, would
give it great strength without any increase of weight.

The Society of Arts have published, in their thirty-first
volume of Transactions, descriptions of two fire-escapes
or elevators. They consist of a number of bars jointed
together in pairs, by a pin in the middle of each like a
pair of shears. To the upper ends of each of these the
lower ends of a second pair are jointed, and to these a third
pair, and so on of five pairs. The whole assemblage will
therefore consist of similar parallelograms placed one
upon the other. Now, by forcing the lowest ends of the
levers to approach towards each other, the parallelograms
are caused to elongate in the vertical direction, and raise
up a platform to the required height. The machine, v/hen
elevated, forms a lofty tower, within which a regular
range of ladders are placed in the manner of a staircase.
The contrivance is ingenious, but by no means applicable
to the purpose, from its complexity. One of these machines
is composed of 24 levers, and 8 ladders, besides the smaller
parts. The other machine has 40 levers and 8 ladders
within it.

Of the other kind of fire-escapes, which are to be fixed
from the window, the most simple is a rope-ladder, with
wooden rails for the steps ; but, unless a post with a hook
is fixed below in the street, to attach the lower end of the
ladder to it, and strain the ropes tight, it is extremely-
difficult to descend.

Another species is called the sling fire-escape. This
consists of a rope, to which the person fastens himself by
a girdle, and throwing himself out of a window, is lowered
slowly down, the rope having some contrivance to cause a
fiiction or resistance, which will prevent any acceleration
in the motion. The simplest of these has a long rope
provided with two straps or belts, one to buckle round
the waist of the person who is to descend, and the other
to pass under him, so that he sits as in a swing when
suspended by the rope, which is ratiier more than twice
as long as the height of the window from the ground.
The rope is made to pass through a double eye or iron
ring, suspended from a hook fixed over the window ; then
the other end of the rope is brought down to a piece of
wood called the regulator, which is attached to the girdle
strap, that the person wears. This piece of wood has
three holes in it, and two deep notches, into which the
rope is woven, and will thereby have so much friction in
passing, as to make it slip through regularly, and quite at
the command of the descending person who is to hold the
rope in his hand; and by letting it slip more or less, he
can easily regulate his descent. This plan was proposed
by Mr Forster.

Another machine, invented by Mr Maseres, had the
same arrangement, except that the rope, instead of pass-
ing through the iron ring or eye above mentioned, ia

L 2

FIB E ESCAPES.

wrapped three or four times round a small cylinder, made
with a proper spiral groove, and iixcd in an iron shank.
like the strap of a pulley, but rivetted fast, so that it can-
not turn ftjund. 15y means of a hook in this shank, the
cylinder can be suspended from the hook which is fixed
over the window. The groove in this cylinder causes so
much friction in the passage of the rope, that the person
wiio is suspended has an equal covnmand as in the other
method ; but, without passing the rope through the notches
in the piece of wood, he cau command it when he holds
the other end of the rope in his hand, and lets it slip more
or less at pleasure.

Another machine, which was exhibited in London, was
contained beneath a stool, to stand by ihe bed-side. On
an alarm, this stool could be instantly fixed to the window,
by hooking two of its legs over the sill of the window, in
the same manner as the boards used by a painter to sup-
port himself whilst he paints the outside of a window.
Beneath the stool was an axle, upon wliich the rope was
wrapped two or three times ; a small wheel was fixed on
the end of the axle, and a gripe inclosed this, with a spring
to cause sufficient friction to retard the excessive motion
of the wheel and jaxle. The spring was regulated by a
screw, to bear upon the wheel with any required force, in
proportion to the weight of the person who was to de-
scend. A strap was placed at each end of the rope, so that
when one had descended, the girdle-straps at the opposite
end of the rope would be ready for another person to come
down.

Mr Salmon has contrived another machine, which ap-
pears superior to any of these : It is a large pulley, placed
in an iron strap, by which it can be hung up over the
window. It is made with a deep angular groove, so that
the rope which passes over it cannot slip ; and. to render
this more secure, the groove has several sharp pins fixed
in it : the rope, has a girdlestrap at one end, and a sufficient
counterweight at the other, to make the rope apply so
firmly to the pulley that it cannot slip, and also to draw up
the strap the moment the person who has descended has
imgirded it. The pulley has a toothed wheel fixed against
it, which acts in the pallets of an anchor-escapement, fi.^-
cd on an axis, placed in the same iron frame or sling,
above the axis of the pulley. A short pendulum, with a
heavy bob, is fixed on the end of the arbor of the anchor
or pallets. By this contrivance the pulley is regulated, as
the escapement will not buffer it to move with any more
than the intended velocity ; and if the pallets of the anchor
are formed of a proper shape, as will be described in the
article Horology, it will make very little difference if
the weight which descends is a small or a great one. The
escapement-wheel is attached to the pulley by a ratchet-
wheel and click, which admits the counterweight to draw
\ip the strap-girdle, without acting on the escapement, as
soon as the person who has descended quits it ; and the
machine is then ready to let down another person.

Another fire-escape, to affix to a window, is composed
of a strong sail-cloth, sewed up, to form a long bag or sack,
which is open at one end, and of such a length that it
will reach from the window to the ground when inclined
in an angle of 45 degrees. The upper end of the sack is .
extended by a hoop sewed into it, and has a cluster of
small cords, very similar to the suspension of a hammock,
whicii proceed from different parts of the hoop, and all join
in two rings, by means of which it can easily be suspended
from two hooks, at the sides of the window-frame. The
lower end of the sack is sewed up, but it has an opening in
tht side, sufficient to let out a man ; and the borders of this
opening must be well hemmed with a cord to make it

strong. Two cords are also made fast to the end of the
sa<;k, by means of which the lower part can be lashed to
any post or fixture at the opposite side of the street, to
stretch and retain the sack in the inclined position. The
use of this contrivance is evident, as it forms a practicable
inclined plane, in which any person can salely slide down
to the bottom, and be taken out at the side-opening. It has
the advantage of all the others, because women, children,
or infirm pjrsons, however distracted by fear, can be put
out of the window into the hoop, and will arrive safely at
the bottom ; whereas the other contrivances with ropes,
though e(|uaily safe in reality, have so much more appear-
ance of danger, tliat there would be some difficulty in such
cases. It is scarcely necessary to add, tliat the sack must
be made very narrow, so that a person can only pass easily
through it, and they will then be able to regulate their de-
scent, by extending their arms and legs, although the width
of the street should require the inclination to be greater
than 45 degrees. In case there is not any sufficient fixture
to lash the lower end of the sack to, it must be held by two
or three people, who, indeed, if they are careful, will do it
more efl'ectually than a fixture, by raising the end when a
person comes down towards the lower end, so as to check
the descent. For this purpose, two or three rope handles
are provided on each side, at the lower end, for the bystand-
ers to hold ; and these are equally useful when the end is
lashed fast. It is plain, that goods of small bulk can be
sent down by the same means ; but, to prevent any acci-
dent of stopping up the sack, the hoop at top is made small-
er than any other part.

A new tire-ladder, and an elevator for supporting and
raising the leather pipe of a fire-engine, have been invented
and constructed by IMr William Lamb, builder in Leith.
The fire-ladder is nearly upon the same principle as that
of Mr Davis, which we have already described. It consists
of three ladders, one within another, the two innermost be-
ing elevated upon the outermost by a rope and pulley, and
if necessary by the aid of a windlass. The elevator con-
sists of two square tubes and a square beam, the first square
tube containing the second, and the second containing the
square beam. All these are supported in a vertical posi-
tion by four legs, the lower extremityof the first or outer
square tube resting on the ground. By means of a pulley
moved by a windlass, tlie second square tube can be ele-
vated upon the first, and the square beam upon the second
square tube, to the height required. About four or five
feet below the top of the square beam is fixed a platform,
upon which the fireman stands while he is raised to the ne-
cessary height for the purpose of directing the pipe of the
engine, the end of which is fixed upon an universal joint
on the top of the beam, so that the fireman has no weiglit to
support, but is solely employed in directing the pipe to the
proper part of the building. We are glad to learn that the
magistrates of Leith have ordered both these ingenious
machines to be constructed for the use of the town, and we
trust every other town in Scotland will follow their exam-
ple. The expence of the ladder when about 42 feet long
will not exceed 5/.; that of the elevator 13/. or 14/. The
elevator may be applied to many other purposes; and Mr
Lamb proposes also to construct it, so that any person may
raise himself.

An account of a fire ladder which supports itself, will be
found in the Acta Petrojiolitana, vol. i. p. 1. See also Leo-
pold's Theatrum Machinarum, tab. 54. 57; Emerson's ATe-
chanics, 228 ; Vaicourt, Mem. Acad Par. 1761, Hist. 158 ;
Collins, America?! Transactions, torn. iv. or Refiertory of
Arts, vol. XV. p. 25 ; Audibert, Mem. de ListiCut. torn. iv.
or Jie/iertory, vol. i. p. 439. (j. f.)

FIR

FIS

FIREWORKS. SeePYROTEOHNY.

FIRST, in Music, sometimes implies the first, and some-
times the second chromatic degrqe of the scale; thus,
First Major (I) has the ratio i||, — 47S+f4-4m, called
also the sharp minor first, and is the Sr.MrjONE Mcciius
(S)' which see.

FiKSTiV//no)-(l), has the ratio -j, and the length of string

1, but is without magnitude, and consequently its loga-
rithms and notations of all the dift'crent kinds arc 0 : it is
called the Unison, E(|uisonanl Prime, Homophony, Istes-
so ; and by Mr Oveicnd, in his maiuiscripts, il is called
Radix, and marked with an ^, having a da^h across its last
stroke, (f)

FISH. See Ichthyology.

FISHERIES.

IT has been admitted by our own, as well as by foreign
writers, that Britain, and her dependent islands, are most
advantageously situated for the various and v.riluable fishe-
ries, with which their lakes, rivers, and seas abound.

At an early period of our history, the fisheries not only
became an object of serious attention to individuals, but at-
tracted the particular notice of government, on account of
the important objects to which they might be made sub-
servient.

Among the many kinds of fond which are given for the
subsistence of man, fish is one of the most wholesome and
abundant ; and such is its powerful influence on population,
that it is generally allowed that the empire of China owes the
immense number of its inhabitants to the astonishing quan-
tities of fish with which they are supplied. Britain, how-
ever, we apprehend, may boast of a greater and choicer
variety than even China ; for, out of about four hundred
species, as described by Linnaeus, we can enumerate nearly
one hundred and fifty to be inhabitants of our own waters,
and almost all these are esculent.

Those chiefly distinguished in our established fisheries
are cod and herring, with their numerous congeners, mac-
kerel and salmon. These, when pickled or dried, find at
all times a ready vent in the European continent, or West
India islands. For the other kinds which we have not here
specified, there is always a demand, either as fresh, green,
or cured fish, for home consumption.

The figure and vast extent of our indented coasts, aff'ord
many advantages for procuring that fine variety offish with
which our seas are stored ; for, from whatever point the
wind blows, we always have some tracts out of the reach of
the weather, where our fisheries can be carried on, whe-
ther for inland use or exportation. We also have, in every
direction, ports, harbours, and bays, to which vessels during
heavy gales can easily and speedily run ; and our shores fur-
nish us with all kinds of natural bait for fish that are taken
with the line and hook, as lampreys, razor shell fish, coc-
kles, limpets, whelks, &c. We have a full command of
materials for ship-building, and for making fishing tackle
of every description. By pioper care and management,
our salt might equal, if not excel, the best salt formerly
used and prepared by the Dutch in the curing of their fish,
and to which their superiority in point of flavour was we
believe generally, and we think justly, ascribed. The in-
habitants of the British isles not only possess greater capi-
tals, but are noted too for intelligence, and for a spirit of en-
terprize far above those of other nations.

Notwithstanding these advantages, oiu" fisheries have
not only never been prosecuted to their utmost extent ; but,
in spite of the many bounties and priviitges atvi.ched to
them from time to time, they have been on the decline for
several years past.*

We cannot easily ascertain the causes that have led to
this failure ; but it is a matter of severe disappointment,
that this branch of our commerce has not been managed
so prosperously as our flattering situation gave us reason
to expect. In order to remedy this evil, that public spirit-
ed body, the Highland Society of Scotland, after great ex-
ertion and careful investigation, discovered and pointed out
many of the errors and abuses which had long prevailed
in that valuable branch, the white herring fishery ; and by
means of their reports, a bill was brought into Parliament,
and enacted. This act is dated the 25th of June 1808, and
the provisions of it took place from the 1st of June 1809,
and were to continue in force until the 1st of June 1813,
and from thence to the end of the then next session of Par-
liament, (1814). Some amendments were at that time
proposed, and with these we suppose the same act either
has or will be renewed. It is a spirited and fair experi-
ment, and we hope will afford a proof of the utility and
many advantages that: must accrue to the state from a per-
severing prosecution of all the branches oi the dee/i seajish-
ing. Yet, at the same time, we must remark, that this act
is not without its imperfections ; and it is to be regretted
that it did not embrace regulations for some of our other
fisheries, which so palpably require parliamentary in-
terference, such as conservancies for our salmon rivers.
Had the commissioners in that act been appointed as a
court of conservancy, with a power, according to local si-
tuation, to constitute district courts under them, it might
have saved that fishery from an unimportance to which it is
fast verging. The use of stake nets,t and the wanton and
prodigious destruction of the fry in various parts of the
country, have been very injurious to this fishery. It would
have been well, too, had it held out great and particular en-
couragement for a junction of the cod with the deep sea
herring fishery. This might h.ave lengthened the time of
fishing to the greatest part of the year, which would have
kept the busses, ill adapted for any other trade, almost in
constant employment ; and, of course, induced the owners
to procure more apprentices, to whom, as well as to the
masters, upon the expiration of their indentures, liberal
premiums might have been granted. The accomplish-
ment of such a plan would have formed a nursery of the
most hardy and intrepid seamen. The last observation
that we shall here make on this act, is, that the bounty
which it off'ers is too small, particularly if it is considered,
that it was augmented from thirty to fifty shillings so far
back as the year 1757. Had it been five pounds in place
of three pounds per ton, the increase would have kept pace
with the depreciation of money and the advanced prices of
materials.

It may be necessary, also, in this place, to mention the
objections made by adventurers in that fishery, to the hard-

• We must, however, in these general observations, except the whale fishery, which has of late been carried on most successfully, and

almost exclusively, by this cmuury.

■\ This destructive piactice is in some degree now i-< moved ; for the Court of Session gave a decision in 1812, declaring stake nets, whe-
ther fixed or floaiing. illegal, ar.d-pii.liibilcd dl the |n-opiiea)rs on tile river Tay from using them. An appeal to the House of Lords, incon-
sequence of this judgment, was iiowever lodged, and lies there yet undecided.

FISHERIES.

ships (;is tlicy alleged) attending tlic former bounties, leav-
ing it to our renders to determine if" The Act for the fur-
ther Jincouni^ement and better Regulation of the Brilinh
U'hite Htrrint^ Fishery, I 808," applies remedies to all these
coinplaiius ; and whether they were then, or are yet, well
or ill-founded. They are as follow : " That the fishing ves-
sel must go to a certain port ; the equipage must pass in
review before the officers of the customs; the ship must
complete lier cargo, or remain tiiree months at sea to do it :
— so lliat, if in the first week she jirocured nine-tenths of
it, siie would be ol)liged to keep the sea for the other tenth.
The ship can take no instruments l)nt those proper for the
fishery to which the premium is applied ; the cargo cannot
be discharged but in a certain port : — there are general for-
malities to be observed with respect to the salt which she
-carries out and biings home : — the owners are exposed to
vexations from custom-house ofliccrs, and to law- suits
■which they are obliged to carry on in courts of justice far
from their residence." Snch have been in part the causes
assigned for the decline of this fisliery. Many, too, are the
prejudices formed against granting bounties to the busses
employed in the deep sea herring fishery. It has been,
and is still contended, that the supjjort given to them is too
lavish, and that they ought to be left to stand or fall accord-
ing to their own weight.

We have seen various schemes, and various proposals,
for untried and more vigorous efforts in the prosecution of
our fisheries; we applaud every suggestion that can be of-
fered for that purpose, although we cannot approve of any
we have yet perused. A national fishery, on a grand scale,
has been recommended ; and the following are the outlines,
as given by an anonymous author.*

" 1. A grand national corporation, organized under the
immediate protection and superintendance of parliament.

2. A capital stock of to be raised in shares

by the sea-port towns and corporations, proportioned to the
advantages of locality, and amount of their trade and ton-
nage ; an annual dividend of five per cent, guaranteed on
the capital. 3. Conveniences for shipping, store-houses,
sheds, &c. constructed in places contiguous to the best
fishing grounds. 4. A free use of salt by the managers,
without any interference of the revenue officers. 5. The
fish taken and cured, to be exempt from all duties whate-
ver ; on the other hand, no bounties to be given. 6. Fish-
ermen disabled by accident, age, or infirmity, and the wi-
dows and children of fishermen, to be provided for. 7. The
corporation to be authorised to propose rules for the regu-
lation and discipline of the fishery."

This plan, we apprehend, is too complicated to succeed,
too like a monopoly, and by far too general to be adopted.
From distinct fisheries carried on, and vessels fitted out by
individuals and private companies, more spirited exertions
may be expected than from this proposed corporation, espe-
cially if they are favoured with an enlargement of the
bounties, and an exemption from all duties connected with
the fisheries.

We have observed, with much pleasure, many useful
hints and resolutions in " The First and Second Reports of
the Committee of the Fish Association for the Benefit ol the
Community, respecting the Measures to be adopted for
the supply of the Metropolis and its Neighbourhood, 18 !3."
The first object they have in view, is, a facility of bringing
fish to the njetropolis, whether by land-carriage or other-
wise ; to break the combination of the fishmonger's com-
pany ; to crush the monopolizing and exclusive trade of
Jiillingsgate ; and to establish more central and general

fish-markets in the cities of London and Westminster. By
a completion of this system, an immense consumption of
fish wouhl undoubtedly take place ; the middling and poor-
er set of people might enjoy the luxury of a fish diet, and
consequently this great mart being fully and ciieaply sup-
plied, wouldin all probabiliiy inciease the demand and num-
ber of fish, not only in the metropolis, but throughout all
the great towns in the kingdom, which of course would
follow its example.

Sect. I. On the Cod Fishery.

The cod-fish, Gadua morhua of Linnaeus, the Aaellus
maximua of some authors, and the Aiellun varius vel atria-
tun of Schonovelde and Jonslone, is of the ovdtv Jugulares^
and the most considerable of that numerous and valuable
genus Gadus ; a genus which comprehends no less than 18
species, all esculent, and natives of the British seas, t

The cod measures generally from 25 to 36 inches, al-
though some have been taken above five feet long. The
upper maxilla is longest, lateral line white, the colour on
the back and sides of a dusky olive, with yellow spots in-
termixed ; the scales are proportionally small, and adhere
firmly to the skin ; the eyes large and heavy, covered with
a loose transparent membrane ; the barb, about the length
of a finger, depends fron^ the angle of the lower jaw ; it
has several rows of teeth, and some of them movable, as
in the pike; it has three fins on the back, two at the gills,
two at the breast, two at the anus, and the tail even.

The cod is a gregarious and very voracious fish, devour-
ing not only all kinds that it can swallow, but even its own
species. Indeed the immense variety of animals with which
it is often found gorged, is truly surprising. They are very
prolific, each spawner producing many millions of eggs
annually. Lewenhoek computed no less than 9,3j4,00O
ova in a single cod; and, upon the 23d of December, Mr
Hanmer 3,686,760 in one of a middling size, which weigh-
ed 12,540 grains. The flesh is white, film, comes off in
flakes, exceedingly good, and held in higher estimation in
every part of the world, except by the inhabitants of Edin-
burgh, than that of its congener the haddock, {^Gadua £gle-
fnua). Various are the names given to it, both when fresh
or pickled, — cod, keeling, cabillow or cabillaud, green fish,
Iceland or mud fish, Alierdeen fish. North Sea cod, stock-
fish, barrelled cod, poor John, and, throughout Scotland,
when dried, hard Jiah. Their young, and those under 20
inches, are called codlings.

They generally spawn with us from February until the
middle of April, and sooner recover than any other fish
from their shotten state ; for, in a few weeks, after having
shed their roes and milts, they appear plump, well colour-
ed, and full about the tail. This species is infested with a
variety of vermes, as the Gordius marimia of Linnaeus, the
Echinorhynchus, the Cucullanus marinus, the Fasciola ftis-
cium, the Tenia rugoaa, all of which are to be found at
times in their intestines, and the Lernca aaeltina in their
gills and pectoral fins. There is no fish of more general use,
and more suitable to all palates, than the cod ; and it is in
plenty, and fit for eating, in some or other of the waters which
encompass our islands, at almost every time of the year.
It is to be found on both sides of the noithern hemisphere.
A cold climate seems to be rather its choice, as the region
which it prefers in Europe is from 50 to 65 latitude ; that
is, from near the Scilly islands to Iceland ; and in Ameri-
ca, from about 41 to 58 latitude ; that is, from about Rhode
island to the shores of the Eskimaux.

The cod fisiiery, in which we include, of the same ge-

* Plan of Natloral fmpro^-emenf, (S'c. 1803.

f Bcrkenliout's Synofisis if the J^atural Hiitnty if Great Britain and Ireland.

FISHERIES.

iius, the ling (Gaclus 7nolva), and tusk or torsk (Gadiis
brosniL'), forms tlie most extensive fishery of which Britain
cuii bodst ; for Ave have not only the rani^c of our own
islands in Europe, but the vast banks of Newfoundland and
the fi Lihlng grounds alonsj the shores of Nova Scotia, St Johii's,
Cape Brelon, and in thuGulf of St Lawrence: all of them seas
noted for tlie quantity of this valuable fish which they aflbrd.

It was found expedient, by the late act of parliament, to
give what was thought a liberal encouragement to decked
vessels of considerable burden, in the prosecution of the
deep sea herring fishery; but it certainly must be allow-
ed to be fully as necessary and suitable to that of tlie cod.
Herrings lie commonly nearer the sliore ; and as they are
not so often found in the strong rapid currents as the cod,
the use of small open boats is improper and injudicious
for that fishery, unless it be with the view only of afford-
ing a temporary supply of fresh fish for the inhabitants of
the coast.

The fisheries, indeed, are carried on by the natives of
Scotland (with a few exceptions) in a very awkward and
slovenly manner. The common method of taking cod,
ling, haddock, £tc. is to go out only a few miles from the
shores of their fishing-towns, with a crew consisting of
four or live hands, sometimes one or two of them boys, in
an unprovided, undecked boat, carrying with them many
tires of lung lines, which they ofiener set than fish with.
These they drop on the grounds where they think the fish
iie ; and, when the weather is in the smallest degree bois-
terous, they leave them attached to neat's bladders all ni.ghl,
and indeed frequently for many successive days and nights;
that is, until it becomes so moderate as to suit their ciioice
and convenicncy to return. They then draw up their lines,
find the bailed hooks stuck in the stomachs of tlie fish, or
the fish exhausted by long struggling, or dead, or eaten in-
to the entrails by vermin. In tiiis condition are what they
call Jrcsh cod, /res/i turbot, and other kinds of fish caught
by the line and hook, oiTcred to sale in our markets. Lst
us now observe the modes that the English and Dutch
practise in the management of their lines, both for what
fish they are to sell fresh, and also for such as they mean
to cure. In spring and summer they use short, and in
v/inter long lines, on account of the cod keeping nearer the
bottom in that season, and which (according to the fisher-
man's phraseology) they always kee/i bobbing; that is play-
ing backwards and forwards by little and tremulous jerks
of the hand and arm, by which means, as in angling, the
line and hook arc in continual motion; and, feeling the fish
the moment he bites, they instantly haul him up. They are
therefore all caught by the lip or mouth, which saves a
great deal of time, as the fisherman is immediately enabled
to renew the bait, not having to extricate the hook either
from the gorge or stomach ; besides, they are all taken
alive, without being torn or mangled, a consideration of no
small imjiortance.

In this manner on the cold and uncomfortable banks ot
Newfoundland, each expert fisherman, although he can take
but one at a time, will catch from two to three hundred of
their heavy fish in a day. This is the most valuable cod-fish-
cry in the world, and may be now said to belong entirely to
Great Britain. The island is situated between Lat. 46° 45'
and 51° 40' North, and between Long. 52° 31' and 59" 40'
West. The grand bank is about 70 miles from it, and is
400 miles in length, and 200 in breadth, not including the
Jaquet and Green Banks, &c. : the greatest and best part
of it lies to the south and east of the island. The depth
of water, according to Governor Pownall's chart, varies
from 24 to 60 fathoms. The immense shoals of cod, with
the variety of other fish which inhabit the grand and lesser
banks, excite astonishment.

In these regions an unceasing warfare is carried on, fish
against fish, the larger devouring the smaller, not even
sparing their own species. The cod is seemingly the most
jiowerful, being generally the largest and most voracious.
The greatest number, as well as the fattest and bulkiest
fish, are to be found where the water is rough, with a sandy
ground ; on the contrary, they are lean and scarce where
the water is still, upon an oozy bottom ; and the depth to
which they seem mostly attached, is from 30 to 40 fathoms,
— l)articulars which fishermen and seamen soon learn, by
their being most successful in these soundings.

This fishery gives freight to nearly 300 vessels, from one
to two hundred tons burden each. They are mostly fitted
out from Guernsey, Jersey, Ireland, and ports in the Eng-
lish Channel, as Poole, Dartmouth, kc; they cairy about
35,000 fish each, upon an average; their chief markets are
Spain, Portugal, Italy, and the Levant; for the other parts
ol Europe are commonly provided with those taken in the
British seas, the Dogger, Wale, or Wcse banks, and other
parts of the North Sea. Besides these large vessels, there
are at least 2000 small-decked craft, or shallops, from 12
to 20 tons burden, rigged like the luggers in England em-
l)loyed in the fisheries along the shores of Newfoundland,
Nova Scotia, and the islands of Cape Breton, a great part
oi whose hands is taken up on land, in erecting stages,
and in curing and drying their fish. The principal scene
for this employment is on the coast of Placentia Bay, which
opens between Chapeau-Rouge Point westward, and Cape
St Maiy on the east. When a vessel has taken her station
on this or any other bay, she is immediately unrigged, leav-
ing only the shrouds to sustain the masts.

The livers of the whole genus Gadus, yield a well fla-
voured oil. The zounds and tongues of the cod are also
salted and barielled, and are much esteemed as dainties, in
the islands and continent of America. Mr Morse, the
American geographer, says, (we, however, suspect the ac-
count is somewhat exaggerated,) "Great Britain, and the
United States, at the lowest computation, annually employ
3000 sail of small craft in this fishery ; on board of which,
and on shore to cure and pack the fish, are upwards of
100,000 hands." In our article England, Vol. VIII. we
have already given an account of the quantity of fish caught,
and of the number of vessels, kc. employed in the New-
foundland fishery in difi'erent years.

Of late years, the English have sent a number of welled
smacks, stoutly manned, to the island of Orkney, wheie they
fish in the deep water, and strong currents, along the banks
of the Pentland Frith, Cape Wrath, and the adjacent head-
lands. In the prosecution of this fishery, they have been
extremely successful; and although at such a distance,
have aflbrded a great and excellent supjily of fresh cod,
and also of new cured fish, for the market of the metropolis.

The owners of these welled smacks are Saunders, Selby,
Cresswell, and a few other fishmongers of BiUinsgate, who
employ about 40 of these vessels. They rendezvous in
Long Hope, Orkney, from whence three or four run weekly
for the Thames. When tliey arrive at Queenborough, they
unload, and then send their fish in small boats up to London,

Sect. II. 0:t the Herring Fishery.

The name herring is derived from the German word hce;; '
signifying an army, as expressive of the numbers in the
great shoal, which annually appearupon the northern coasts.

Our common herring is from 7 to 12 inches long; a fine
silvery colour shines \\\)ox\ the belly and sides, the back
somewhat greenish ; the scales are large for the size of
the fish, and come easily and regularly off; the lines are
small, and not easily perceived ; the under jaw is a little-

FISHERIES.

longer than the upper ; the dorsal fin consists of seventeen,
the ventral iiiis of nine, the pectoral seventeen, the anal
fourteen, and the tail forked with eightten rays. He dies
instantly when taken out of the water.

This is the Cliipea harengus of Liiinxus, Rondeletius,
Gesiier, Willoughby, and Ray. The Halec of the Romans,
we suspect, was not a iierrint;;, but rather a preparation from
some other lish, as the Botargo, the precious Garu7n, or
something resembling our modern essences, for fish sauce.

The S/iacl, or as called by some authors, the mother of
herrings, (Clu/iea alosa,) is the only one of the genus tliat
betakes itself to fresh waters, and in Britain is only to be
found in the Thames and Severn, where it is supposed to
ascend, for the sole purpose of spawning.

In the months of November, December, January and Fe-
bruary, herrings generally deposit their ova on the Fucus
palmatiis, dilisk, (called in Scotland dulse,) or Ulva, laver,
and other sea-plants, and sometimes on gravel. They are
there impregnated by the milter, an-d become animated in
April or beginning of May. The herring is a prolific fish ;
Mr Harmer, after examining one of a middle size, found
the weight of the spawn to be 480 grains, and the number
of eggs o6,9G0.

As the heaviest salmon are found in our large rivers, so
arc the largest herring in our deep waters ; and if we mi-
nutely observe, we shall find each coast and river to pro-
duce a fish, although bearing the same generic and specific
characters, dift'crent in taste, size, and appearance. It is
well known in the salmon, and no stronger instance of this
fact can be given, thau that of the shad of the Severn and
the Thames ; the flesh of the first is fat, rich, and delicious,
brings a price equal to salmon in the market, and appears
in April and May ; that of the last is lean, coarse, and insi-
pid, and does not enter the Thames till July. A distinc-
tion equally striking is to be noticed in our west and east
country herrings, although all detachments from the same
great original army or shoal.

The varieties of our herrings may be reduced to two or
three sizes. In the bays and lochs of our Western High-
lands, they are not only larger, but superior in taste and
flavour to all others: from 650 to 800 fill a barrel. Those
of the Friths of Forth and Tay require about 1000 to 1 100.
High up the Murray Frith, it takes about 1500 to the bar-
rel.

It has been a matter of curious inquiry, how far to the
northward these herrings proceed, after leaving our shores.
We imagine that Mr Pennant and some other naturalists
have mistaken the winter residence of the herrings, who
say, " they return to their parental haunts beneath the ice,
to repair the vast destruction of their race, during summer,
by men, fowl, and fish." For what pin-pose they should
have received an instinct to retire to the Polar seas is to
us incomprehensible. Surely the icy regions are unfavour-
able both to life and vegetation, and consequently for ani-
mal food. The salmon, the shad, the smelt, are never found
at sea, yet it is never said that they depart to any great
distance from our shores. The most reasonable conjec-
ture we can form, is, that the herring, like our other mi-
gratory fishes, take to the deepest parts of the ocean. None
of our voyagers nor whalers ever pretended to have seen
them to the northward (if even so far) of the 67th degree
of latitude.

The Dutch, who formerly, fished but a little way from
Shetland, would have undoubtedly begun their fishing soon-
er than the first of July, by meeting on their passage the
herring shoals farther to the north, if such an immense
body issued from within tlie arctic circle. So far, indeed,
froiu their betaking themselves to such cold quarters, they
often remain here during the winter; and to-day (19th

March,) we have examined some, wliich were taken in the
Forth in the morning, containing both milts and roes. We
acknowledge, that their continumg here so long, and being
so late in sjjawning, arc circumstances very unusual.

In migrating from the deep seas to our shores, the her-
ring seems to be prompted by a simiisr instinct to that of
the. shad and salmon, of casting its spawn in its native wa-
ters ; however, they arc more desultory in their movements
than either of these fishes.

From the Friths of 'Forth and Tay, about the year 1788,
both haddocks and herrings took their departure, and did
not return for nine or ten years. Various reasons have
been assigned for such seemingly capricious movements.
The alterations in banks and currents is said to make them
change their situation. The Norwegians aftirrii, that the
burning of seaweed id the manufacture of kelp, has forced
the herrings to leave some of their shores. It is, indeed,
probable, that the glare of kelp fires afi'ecls them wiin the
same kind of terror which they have for lightning, and for
that luminous appearance in the sea, called by fishermen,
-tuaterburn.

About the end of June, or rather early in July, the great
shoal of herrings, seemingly from the north, appears to-
wards the extremity of the Snetland islands. Gulls and
ganr.ets, screaming and in flight ; whales and porpoises,
rising and tumbling in the water, are the never-failing har-
bingers of the approach of this immense body of fish, form-
ing a surface or extent of several hundred miles. A great
rippling in the sea is also observed ; and sailors and fisher-
men aver, that they can nose them from afar by their strong
oily smell. Soon after they come near to Shetland, they
separate into various large divisions, some taking to the
western and others to the eastern shores of Great Britain
and Ireland. X few of these columns likewise cross the
North Sea, or German Ocean ; and the Swedes, about 1730,
discovered a valuable herring fishery near to Gotten-
burgh, and which, from its contiguity to the Baltic, ena-
bled them to undersell both the Scotch and Dutch, who
formerly engrossed the whole of that trade. From their
first arrival in July, they keep along both the east and west
coasts of Scotland, and in October, after many erratic move-
ments, they fix their residence where they mean to spawn.
In these places they continue until the end of February,
(sometimes, but rarely, longer,) and constitute what we call
our winter fishery. In the F"rith of Forth, for these seve-
ral years past, this has been a very productive fishery ; and
during the present winter, 1814-15, the numbers of her-
rings there taken, and brought to the Edinburgh markets,
have yielded a most abundant supply of nutritious food for
the poorer class of the inhabitants of the city and its neigh-
bourhood.

After the states of Holland became independent, (1579,)
the herring fishery was carried on to an amazing extent;
indeed the accounts given of it by various writers appear
at this day almost incredible, although they, upon the whole,
seem to be well authenticated. Sir Walter Raleigh was
of opinion, that the Dutch made ten millions per annum of
this fishery in his time. The great statesman De Wit, as-
sures us, that in the year 1667, the Dutch employed no less
than 2000 busses, and that upwards of 800,000 persons were
subsisted in the two provinces of Holland and West Fries-
land alone by the herring fishery. The rise of the united
provinces to their great importance as a nation, and to their
being at one time rivals to the English in their marine, was
entirely attributed to their perseverance and success in the
herring fishery. The splendour and commercial conse-
quence of their towns, sprung also from the same source,
and it is acknowledged by themselves, " that Amsterdam
had its foundation on herring bones."

FISHERIES.

The great wealth whicli the herring fishery, at an early
jieiiod, brought to the Dutch, induced the Scotch lo em-
bark seriously into tlie same concern, and accordingly it
was enacted, " That certain lords spiritual and temporal,
and bui'rows, make ships, bushes, and boats, with nets and
other pertinents," Jam. III. Par. 6. cap. 49. This act was
confirmed by James IV. " that ships and bushes, with all
their pertinents for fishing, be made in each burgh, in num-
ber according to the substance of the burgh, and the least
of them to be of twenty tunn." Par. 4. cap. 49.

Letters patent were granted by Charles II. to establish
the Company of the Royal Fishery of England. This erec-
tion was, however, rescinded by an act of William and Ma-
ry, declaring it to be dissolved.

The first bounty for the exportation of lierrings, was
granted by the Scotch Parliament in 1705. A bounty of
10s. id, Scotch was then paid on every last of herring ex-
ported, in whatever way they were caught, and upon a last
taken by busses and exported 18/. Scotch was allowed.
The same act remitted the duties payable on all materials
used in the fishery.

Two years after this enactment, the Union took place,
from which period the herring fishery seems to have been
in a declining state, in spite of all the props, with which it
bas been supported, and the liberal premiums given for its
revival. In 1720, a general co-partnery was formed for
the purpose of raising this fishery from its languor. It con-
sisted of about 2000 of the principal people in Scotland ;
their capital was divided into shares of 100/. each ; but, like
the South Sea bubble, which burst about the same time,
the whole concern soon vanished into air.

In 1727, the Board of Trustees was established, to whom
the management of 2000^. per annum was given from the
revenue of Scotland, for the encouragement of the manu-
factures and fisheries of that country. We cannot say what
part of this sum was, or is now appropriated for the herring
fishery.

In 1750, the Free British White Herring Company act
passed in Parliament, whereby ii was enacted, that a capi-
tal miglit be subscribed of 500,000/. the proprietors to re-
ceive 3 per cent, per ann. upon the sums paid in during
fourteen years. A bounty was also allowed of 30s. per ton
for all busses from 20 to 80 tons employed in the service of
the company. His Royal Highness the Piince of Wales,
(who was enthusiastically fond of the undertaking,) was
chosen governor. This national association, although pa-
tronized by the first people in the kingdom, and promising
fair in every point, was soon after its establishment given
up. By this act it was likewise declared, that every fish-
ing company, at any port in Britain, having a capital of
10,000/. should also be entitled to the same premium and
bounty as allowed to the aforesaid Free British White Her-
ring Company. Neither did this appendage to the act suc-
ceed better.

In 1753, 1755, and 1756, three other acts of parliament
were passed, regulating more particularly the mode of fish-
ing with busses.

Another act took place in 1757, by which the bounties to
busses were increased from 30*. to 50s. per ton. This li-
beral encouragement induced many owners of vessels to
enter as adventurers in this trade ; and in the course of the
year 1767, so large a sum as 31,396/. was paid in Scotland
to persons engaged in this fishery. By an act passed in
1771, this bounty was again restricted to 30s. per ton, by
which means the bounties paid in Scotland became trifling,
and in England, for one or two years, no bounties for her-
ring busses were claimed.

In 1779, another act was passed, followed by an interim
one, by which the herring fishery continued to be regula-

VoL. IX. Part. I,

ted, until the Higliland Society ol Scotland took up the
business of this neglected, ill-conducted fishery, by inves-
tigating the causes of its decline, and the means most likely
to bring aljout its revival and improvement. The steps
which they thought necessary to take for these purposes
were, to ofltT liberal premiums for approved essays on the
Natural History of Ilcriings, containing observations on the
causes that induce them to leave their usual haunts, tl.e
modes of capture that have a tendency to rcndci' the fishing
less productive, Sec.

Having received several communications on tlio above
subject, and after much investigation, and various corre-
spondences relative to this fishei'y, the Society, vvitii the as-
sistance of other gentlemen, set about framing a liill, that
was brought into parliament in 1808, when it passed ; of
which the following is an abstract.

It is entitled. An act for the furtlicr encouragement and
better regulation of the British White Herring I'ishery,
until the first day of June 18 13, and from thence to the
end of the next session of parliament.

A bounty of 3/. per ton shall be paid annually to the own-
er or owners of any whole decked buss or vessel of not less
than 60 tons burden, being British built, owned, navigated,
and registered according to law, which shall be fitted out
for, and actually employed in the Deep Sea British White
Herring Fishery, but that such bounty shall not be paid on
any number of tons more than 100, although the buss
should be of greater burden.

For every barrel containing 32 gallons of white herrings
caught in the Biitish fisheries, and landed in Great Britain,
a bounty of 2s.

The number of trustees for manufactures, fisheries. Sec.
in Scotland, to be increased from 21 to 28, whereof his Ma-
jesty may appoint seven to be commissioners for the her-
ring fishery.

The Admiralty to have the appointment of an ofTicer of
the navy to be superintendant of the Deep Sea British
White Herring Fishery, who shall annually proceed to
Brassey Sound in Shetland, and be at this place of rendez-
vous by the 15th of June, and shall remain with the vessels
employed in that fishery during the continuance of the sea-
son, and shall from time to time, when required, transmit
to the commissioners of the Admiralty, as also to the com.-
missioners of the fisliery, a list of the busses employed in
tlie said fishery, with the number and ages of the men on
board tliereof, distinguishing the capacities in which they
respectively act.

The Treasury to appoint officers of the fishery, to in-
spect and take account of all herrings landed or exported,
and to certify whether the fish are properly cured and
packed, so as to be entitled to the bounty of 2s. per barrel ;
and in order that such officer may be duly qualified for this
purpose, they must have exercised the trade of a cooper,
and be otherwise skilful in this business.

No net to be used that has a mesh less than one inch
from knot to knot.

No buss or vessels to be entitled to the tonnage bounty
thereof, unless such vessel have on board (put tip in- new
barrels) sixteen bushels of salt at the least, for every last
of herrings which such vessel shall be capable of contain-
ing, and also as many more new barrels cs such buss or
vessel is capable of carrying; nor unless such buss shall
have on board 300 square yards of netting at tiie least, for
every ton of her admeasurement, together with tne cus-
tomary quantity of other materials, for the equioment and
mounting of the quantity of netting hereby reqtlired to be
provided ; nor unless she be manned with the number of
men following, at the least ; that is to say, with ten men, if
such vessel shall not exceed the burthen of 60 tons; if she

FISHERIES.

shall exceed llie burthen of 60 tons, and shall be under the
burtbtn of 70 tons, with 1 1 men ; and if sucli buss or vessel
shall be of the l)urthcn of 70 tons or upwards, then with one
man more for every ten tons by which such vessel shall ex-
ceed 70 tons, two of wiiich number respectively may be
foreign seamen, experienced in the deep sea herriug fish-
ery. A vessel of upwards of 100 tons is not required to
have more men, salt, or netting, than one of 100 tons. The
full number of n>en, as aliove stated, arc not deemed neces-
sary until the arrival of the buss at the rendezvous of Bras-
sey Sound.

The owner or owners, in order to obtain the tonnage
bounty, is to give notice in writing to the officer at the
port of outfit, the name of the buss, of the owners, of the
master, the tjuantily of salt, netting, number of barrels, &c.
and declare tliat such vessel is sufficient, and in every
respect fit and proper for such voyage and fishing; and if
the officer is satisfied that every proper regulation has
been complied with, he shall certify the same on the back
of the notice, and one or more of the owners or their agent,
and the master of such vessel, shall respectively make
oath before an ofliccr of the fishery, that it is truly his de-
termined purpose; tiiat such vessel as then furnished and
provided, shall forthwith, after license shall be granted,
proceed to Brnssej/ Sound in Shetland, and be there on or
before the 22d day of June (having on board the number
of men required), and shall not wet or shoot her nets before
the 24th of the same month, and shall fish for herrings in
the Deep Sea Fishery, in the manner following ; that is
to say, the crew shall shoot and haul the nets directly from
and into tlie said buss or vessel, without the intervention
or use of a small boat, the nets being attached to the ves-
sel while they are set, the vessel not being at anchor when
the crew are shooting the nets, during the time the nets
are set, nor while the crew are hauling or taking them in ;
and shall cure all the herrings taken or caught in the said
nets in barrels, and not in bulk on board such vessel, and
that the crew shall continue fishing upon the coasts of
Great Britain and Ireland, from the said 24th of June until
the 15tli of September, the owner giving bond, with suffi-
cient surety, (which is exempted from stamp duty), that
all requisites have been performed, then the officer of the
fishery shall give to the master a license to proceed on his
voyage to the rendezvous.

After the vessel has arrived at Brassey Sound, the super-
intendant, if satisfied that she is completely stoi'ed, and has
on board the number of men required by this act, then he
is to give a certificate declaring that the said buss is enti-
tled to commence the said Deep Sea White Herring Fishery
for the tonnage bounty. Herrings taken every day by the
crews of the busses to be distinguished by a mark on the
barrels in which they are cured.

Herrings may be transhipped out of a buss at the Deep
Sea Fishery into another vessel, previously to the 16tb of
July, and carried into port.

The master of every buss employed in the Deep Sea
Fishery, must keep a regular journal, in order to be en-
titled to claim tonnage bounty.

Commissioners of the fishery to enquire into any matter
of complaint stated in the report of tiie superintendant,
against the conduct of the master or crew of any buss, and
determine thereon.

The officer of the fishery at each port to attend the land-
ing of the herrings, and of the salt and barrels which have
not been used out of each buss, and take account thereof,
and certify the same.

The officer of the fishery at eacii port, shall transmit,
•without delay, the license, the master's oath, and the
officer's certificate made on the return and discharge of

each buss. Sec. to the commissioners ; and If they shall
be satisfied that all regulations directed by tiiis act have
been observed, they shall immediately give a debenture
to the owner, with a notice of their having granted such
to the commissioners of Excise in England or Scot-
land, who are to give an order to their cashier or col-
lector nearest the port where the buss discharged her
cargo, wlio is to pay the sum mentioned in the debenture
on demand.

Mariners employed in the deep sea fishery are pro-
tected from being impressed during the voyage, and
until after the buss has returned to the port of her dis-
charge.

Owners of busses entitled to the tonnage bounty, to pay
the crew 2s. per barrel on the herrings taken and cured
by them.

An additional bounty of \l. per ton is allowed for the first
30 ijusses fitted out for and employed in the herring fishery,
and entitled to the bounty of 3/. per ton.

Then follow regulations for cleaning out vessels, (other
than busses on the tonnage bounty), with salt, kc. for the
British herring fisheiy, what herrings shall be entitled to
the bounty of 2s. and certain herrings are piohibited from
being exported.

Herrings may be cured and packed in half barrels, con-
taining 16 gallons English wine measure, and two of these
being accounted equal to one, 2s. bounty shall be paid on
them.

For encouraging the inhaliitants on the sea-coasts of
Scotland, to provide larger boats than are now used in
the herring fishery, and to take herrings at a greater dis-
tance from shore than can be done in small boats, it is
enacted, that after the 1st of June 1809, the commissioners
are authorised to allow premiums or bounties, not exceed-
ing the sum of three thousand pounds yearly, to persons
who shall employ boats of a burthen not less than fifteen
tons by admeasurement, in the taking herrings on the coast
of Scotland, and who sliall cure and pack them accoi'ding
to the rules and regnlations of the commissioners. This
bounty also to be paid by the commissioners of Excise in
Scotland."

When the foregoing act expired, which was at the close
of the last session of pariianient, (1814,) an inteiim one
took place. This was a temporary expedient, until a bill
should be brought in this season, after tlie Easter recess,
to obtain an act for permanently regulating this fishery.
This act, as we are informed, is to be in substance, nearly
the same as that of which we have given an abstract, and
both modelled (with the exception of the bounties) after a
placart or ordinance published at the Hague and Delft, by
the states of Holland and West Friesland, in the prime
and most successful state of their fisheries, concerning the
catching, salting, curing, packing, heightening, and laying
of herrings, Sec.

The fine shape, with the peculiar pleasant flavour of
the Dutch herrings, owing to their excellent mode of
curing, caused them to be more esteemed throughout
Europe, than either those of the English or Scotch. How-
ever, it is to be hoped since the value of this fishery seems
now to be properly appreciated and attended to, that our
pickled herrings will be equal, if not superior, to the best
of the Dutch, or those of Gottenburgh.

The first idea of preserving herrings by pickling, is said
to have been suggested about the year 1390, and it was
the cause of that fishery becoming afterwards so valuable
an article of commerce.

William Bruckficid, or Beukelings, a native of Bieroliet,
a town of Dutch Flanders, who lived about that time, has
got the merit of being the first discoverer of this pickling

FISHERIES.

process.* We suspect, however, that the fishermen and
inhabitants of the town of Yarmouth, in tlic county of Nor-
folk, knew tlie art of preserving and barrelling both red
and while herrings before that period. It appears to have
been a great and lucrative branch of their trade from the
year 1306 to 1350, and we see a statute of Edward the
Third, ni the 31st year of his reign, regulating the herring
fair and fishery of that place. Bruckficld perhaps improved
on the art, but to the merit of the discovery, we do not
think him entitled.

According to the time of taking, and mode of curing
herrings, they receive various appellations, as, sea-sticks,
summers, crux, corved, and shotten herrings.

When they are intended to be cured with what is called
the white pickle, they are cut open, and the guts carefully
separated from the milts and roes. Then casting away
the guts, and leaving the milts and roes entire, the her-
rings are first washed well with water and then put into a
brine strong enough to bear an egg, where they are allow-
ed to lie fiom twelve to sixteen hours ; then they are
taken out, and after being well drained, the salters begin
packing. They first of all strew a quantity of salt, as
even as possible, over the bottom of the barrel, and lay a
row of herrings over it, sprinkling also some salt over
them, and so on, till the whole be completed. The firmer
the herrings are packed, they keep the better ; and the
sailers therefore press them down with their hands in the
packing, as closely as possible, and before heading the
cask, they strew about a platlerful of salt over the upper-
most row. When the barrel is thus filled, they slop it
up very close, lest the air should get in, or the brine flow
out, either of which circumstances would be destructive of
the fish.

On the coasts of Norfolk and Suffolk, a considerable
herring fishery is carried on from September to the end
of October. The fish which they generally cure there,
are called red herrings. When a boat is loaded, it im-
mediately makes for the sliore, and delivers its cargo of
herrings to persons who are employed in the gulling and
washing of them. After this is done, they are put into a
tub wilii salt, where they remain for twenty-four hours ;
they are then taken out, and put into wicker baskets, wash-
ed, atid spilled on small sharp wooden spits, and hung up
in chimnies in their herring /langs, where fagols are kind-
led on the floors, for the purpose of drying them. These
places will hold ten or twelve thousand at a lime. This
process of drying is a;cnerally ended in about twenty-four
hours, and then they are taken down, and put into barrels
for keeping. Herrings, when thus cured, have a bright
yellow, golden appearance, and from their fine flavoiu', are
-in much request, both at home and abroad.

Sect. III. 0?i the Lobster Fishery.

The eastern and rocky shores of Scotland abound with
this fish, which is the Cancer Gammarus of Linnaeus; and
the great quantities of it sent to the London market, form
a very lucrative article of trade. Lobsters are generally
found in deep, clear water. They breed in the summer
months, and it is said propagate more humano. They aie
very prolific, and dt posit their ova in the sand. On the
11 Ih of August, Mr Harnier found in a lobster of Ihirty-
.six ounces, the weiglit of spawn to bt; 1671 grains, and the
number of eggs 21,699. About the Isl of June, they com-
monly cast their shells, and nature, in a little time, sup-
plies them with a new one. Before this necessary change,

the animal swells, and ceases to take its usual food. Many
of them die under this piinful and violent operation. They
only grow in size when their shells are membranous and
soft. If any of their claws are loin f)ff by accident, they
soon renew them. They remain in season from Septem-
ber to June. The shell is black before it is boiled, but
afterwards becomes red. During winter, the cock is sup-
posed to be more delicate eating than the hen lobster.
They arc taken in what fishermen call fiots., which are
made either of netting or Iwiggen work ; these, after being
baited with garbage, are made fast to a rope, and thrown
to the bottom of the sea, where it may be found to be froni
six to ten feet deep. A buoy is also affixed to them. These
pots or baskets resemble a mouse trap, which admits the
animal, but prevents his return. On the Yorkshire and
Orkney coasts, the fishermen use small nets, with iron
hoops, baited with fish guts, and pieces of dried dog fish.

The ineiropolis makes use of more lobsters than all the
kingdom beside. It is chiefly supplied from the British
Channel, the coasts of Yorkshire, Northumberland, the
Frith of Forth, the eastern shores of Scotland, and Nor-
way, from which last place, a million has been brought in
one year. The well smacks, which run from Long Hope
in Orkney, afford also a very large supply for the London
market. The lobsters which they lake or purchase from
the Orkney fishermen, after having tied up their large
claws, in order to prevent their killing one another, they
put in chests, which contain four or five hundred each,
and when they collect about 9000, they then slow them
aboard the first smack that is to sail for Queenboroughi
from whence they are taken up in boats to Billinsgate.

By 10 and 11 William III. cap. 24, no lobster is to be
taken under eight inches in length, from the peak of Ihe
nose to the end of the middle fin of the tail ; and by 9 Geo.
II. cap. 33. no lobsters are to be taken on the coasts of
Scotland, from the Isl of June to the Isl of September.
See ourarlicle Crustaceology.

Sect. IV. On the Mackerel Fishery.

The mackerel fishery, although a very valuable one for
the melropolis, by supplying it plentifully with this fish,
is not carried on to much extent in any part of Britain,
except in the Channel, and on the coasts of Essex, Suffolk,
and Norfolk. The mackerel (Scomber scomber, Lin.) is a
fish of passage. It remains, during winter, in the deep
seas, and does not come on our shores until April or JMay.
It is generally about 17 inches in length, and weighs
nearly two pounds. The body is long, round, thick, and
flesliy, but very small and slender towards the tail, which
is so much forked, that it seems to be almost parted into
two distinct fins. Its fecundity is very great; for, accord-
ing lo Hannier's table, he found one in the month of June
containing 546. 681 eggs. It exhibits a phosphoric light
when newly taken. From its shape, so finely calculate^
for swimming, it has been proposed as a model for the
building of ships. Mackerel are found on the coasts of
Normandy and Picardy, and from the Lands End in Eng-
land to the Red Head in Scotland, gradually decreasing
in numbers, fiom Yarmouth northward. It has been often
mentioned, that this fish was in high esteem by the Ro-
mans, because it furnished the Garum. We suspect, how-
ever, that this is somewhat doubtful, as mackerel are not
plentiful in the Mediterranean, and thai this precious pre-
paration was rather obtained from the Scomber Thynnus,
or tunny, called in Scotland rnackerel-slure, fish which

• The F.mperor Ch.irles V. corning' to the Low Countries, paid a visit lo die tow.i of Bleroliet with the Queen of Hungary, to honour the
memorv and lo view the lomb of this supposed first pickler of herrings.

M 2

T^ISHERIES.

abound on the Spanish, French, and Italian shores in that
sea.

The eyes of the macUcrcI, when they first appear on
our coasts and during winter, are covered with a kind of
M'hite film ; they are then nearly blind ; this, however, they
cast in the beginning of summer. Mackerel are taken
either with angle lines or nets. A red rag is an excellent
bait for them, and they snap at it freely and greedily, when,
according to the seaman's phraseology, it blows fresh., or
what Dryden calls a mackerel gale. This fishery conti-
nues in the English Channel about four months in the
year. Mackerel are chiefly caught for immediate con-
sumption in the home market, an astonishing number be-
ing sold fresh every year in London. Some are pickled,
and exported in barrels from England ; but this trade has
of late much declined, as the West India islands aie most-
ly supplied with this article from Nova Scotia, New Bruns-
wick, &c. Although mackerel are sometimes pretty nu-
merous in the latter part of the season about the Isle of
May, and the mouth of the Frith of Forth, very few are
brought to the Edinburgh market. See our article Eng-
land.

Sect. V. On the Oyster Fishery.

The oyster [Ostrea edutis) is a bivalvular testaceous
fish, and is to be found in various parts of the kingdom. It
is well known, and much esteemed, as a most wholesome
and nutritious food. The oysters of Britain, although not
the largest, are allowed to be the best in the world. They
were so famous for their excellence in the days of the Ro-
mans, that, according to Juvenal and Pliny, they were care-
fully conveyed from Sandwich to Rome; indeed, the Ru-
tufdna littora, (waters and shores of Kent,) were noted by
these luxurious people, chiefly for their producing this
fish. The oysters of Colchester in Essex, and some other
parts of England, are perhaps however little inferior to
those of Kent. In Scotland, they breed in the creeks and
bays of the Orkney and Western Islands ; but the most
considerable fisheries carried on in this country for oys-
ters, are in the Frith of Forth, near to the Isle of Inchkeith,
and Prestonpans, in Musselburgh Bay, which last place
is remarkable lor oysters of great size and delicate fla-
vour. They get the appellation of Pandoors, from being
taken close by the doors of the salt pans. The beds or
scnlfis there, are not at this day nearly so productive as
formerly, being overdrcdged, to answer the great demand
for these oysters, not only in the Edinburgh market, but in
that of Glasgow.

Oysters gcnei'ally cast their spat, or spawn, in the month
of May; when first shed, it has the appearance of a drop
of candle-grease, and adheres to stones, or any other hard
substance, which the dredgers technically term cultch; —
the spat is covered with a shell in two or tliree days, and,
in the course of three years, it becomes of a marketable
size. The dredgers make use of a peculiar kind of net,
which is very thick, strong, and fastened to three spills of
iron : this they drag along the bottom of the sea, and thus
force the oysters into it. In England, many, after being
taken in tliis manner, are carried to different places, and
laid in beds, or pits of salt water, in order to feed and fat-
ten. A green colour is often artificially given to them in
the salt marshes; but we do not consider it as any im-
provement, as we think white oysters both look, and taste,
better than those that are green. The sea star {Asterias
glacialis) is a most destructive animal in a bed of oysters,
because it clasps its rays around the shell, and perseveres
till it sucks the animal out. The fishing for oysters is
permitted from the first of September to the last day of

April inclusive ; or oysters are in season, according to vul-
gar observation, in all those months which have the letter
r in their name. See our article Conchology, genus Os-
trea; and our article England.

Sect. VI. On the Pilchard Fishery.

The pilchard forms a distinct species in the genus Clu-
/tea, (C. ftilchardus.) There are several naturalists, who
insist that it is only a variety of the herring; however, we
have various reasons for thinking otherwise. It is less and
thicker than the herring, the nose turns up, the under jaw
is shorter than the upper, the dorsal fin is placed exactly
in the centre of gravity, for if you take a pilchard by the
back it will hang even, which a herring will not do: the
scales are firm, and adhere very closely, whereas those of
the herring come off with tlie smallest touch.

The pilchard is a fish of passage, swims in shoals, and
its arrival on the coasts of Bretagne, Cornwall, and Devon-
shire, is indicated by similar signs with the approach of
the herring towards Shetland. The season of this fishery
is from June to September, although they are sometimes
caught about Christmas.

On the jutting cliffs, upon the coasts of Devonshire and
Cornwall, men are set, whom they call huers, to watch the
coming of the pilchards ; the purple colour of the water
in the day, and its shining appearance in the night, give
certain indication of their approach. Then the huers, ac-
cording to settled and regulated signs, direct the boats
and vessels how to manage their seines, and when their
commands are properly given and obeyed, they have been
known to take, in their nets, 100,000 pilchards at a draught.
It is a common saying of the Cornish fishermen, when
talking of the pilchard, that it is the least fish in size, most
in number, and greatest in gain, of any they take out of the
sea.

In Scotland there are no established fisheries for pil-
chards; they sometimes appear among the herring shoals,
especially in the Frith of Forth, where they are accounted
a very insipid fish. See our article England.

Sect. VII. On the Salmon Fishery.

In order to understand our account of this fishery, it
will be requisite to have a slight knowledge of the natural
history of the salmon, (^Salmo salar,) but as we have alrea-
dy given this in our article Angling, we shall not resume
this subject at present.

It is scarcely in the power of human skill to reduce the
numbers, or extinguish the race of such fish as iDake the
sea their only element. But this is not the case with fresh
water, or rather fluviatile fishes, which being confined in
narrow limits, are consequently within the easy reach of
the avaricious contrivances of men, and that too without
their encountering either the toils or dangers attendant
upon the fisheries of the seas. Indeed, had it not been for
the restraining statutes respecting the manner and times
of catching them, the breed of salmon would, in all proba-
bility, have been long ere now extirpated.

Several of the genus Salmo are anadromous fishes, or
such as alternately inhabit fresh and salt waters; all of
them, however, spawning in the heads of rivers, or in
brooks connected with them. After performing this func-
tion, they become lank and sickly. In this situation they
make for the sea, no doubt to recover from their shotten
state. After remaining there for a few weeks, an irre-
sistible impulse of nature hurries them again to their na-
tive streams. To accomplish this object, they set all kinds
of obstacles at defiance, and would rather perish in the

FISHEIUES.

attempt than deviate from their course. They never spawn
until they reach these shoals, and if obstructed or retarded
in their ascent, they are often forced to drop their rocs in
the lower parts of rivers, but wliicli, in that case, arc never
known to be either impregnated or covered by the milter.
It has been remarked that their periodical migrations are
in part prompted by another circumstance. During their
residence in the rivers, they are infested by parasitical
insects, which are killed by the salt water; but in the sea
they are soon attacked by the lernta, which perishes in fresh
water.

The importance of the salmon fishery to Scotland, in-
duced the legislature, at an early period of our history, to
enact various statutes, for the preservation and multipli-
cation of the breed, and for prohibiting all kinds of appa-
ratus in their capture, which might tend to a diminution
of their numbers. Such is the spirit of our laws respect-
ing this valuable fishery. But within these thirty or forty
years, the existing laws have not been duly enforced, and,
of course, a great and sensible decrease has taken place
in all the waters of Scotland ; and, indeed, in many rivers
in which they used formerly to abound, scarcely one is now
to be seen, as for example, in the Almond and Ericht in
Perthshire, both branches of the Tay. In the upper parts
of the Tweed, from Kelso to Drumelzier, there were for-
merly several established salmon fisheries, but these are
now entirely relinquished, from the small number of fish
which ascend to that part of the river. The cause of this
scarcity is imputed to the modes of fishing with stage, toot
nets, &c. at or near to the mouth of that river.

Although we only mention these circumstances as com-
ing within our immediate knovcledge, we believe that the
same decrease may be observed in the interior parts, as
also in the tributary streams of all the principal rivers in
Scotland.

It has been contended by many of the lower proprietors
upon our rivers and estuaries, that stake nets, and other
such sweeping devices, do not lessen the breed of sal-
mon; that the Scotch acts of parliament are now in desue-
tude; and even if they were still in force, that they do not
apply nor allude to such apparatus, nor to the passage of
salmon upwards, but only to the preservation of the breed-
ers in close or fense time, and to the smoults, fry, or sal-
mon sense.

The most material object, undoubtedly, in the propa-
gation and preservation of the salmon species, is to afford
them a safe passage to their parent stream, that bed
which nature has pointed out to them as the safest and
best, in which they can lay the seeds of their future off-
spring. We have, indeed, already noticed, that if they are
prevented from reaching this spot, the spawn is rendered
unprolific, by their dropping it without any farther care or
concern.*

That our statutes have the protection of this passage
upwards in view, we apprehend can hardly be questioned.
The prohibitory clauses respecting the use of certain nets,
devices, £<c. the observance o£ close time, of the Saturday's
slap, of the mid stream. Sec. all corroborate this supposi-
tion. Indeed, amidst the various laws enacted by the Scot-
tish parliament for the preservation of the breed of this
fish, it would be an absurdity to imagine, that the most ef-
fectual safeguard for their propagation should be neglect-
ed ; that is, a complete protection in their ascent to the
spawning grounds.

As the law at present stands, we consider all modes in

the capture of this fish to be illegal, unless by angling, by
the net and cobble, or by the common seine, of moderate
and fixed dimensions. 13ut to prevent all disputes, and to
meet the exigency of the times witli regard to the preser-
vation of salmon, we apprehend lc;;islutivc interference
would have at present an excellent effect, not only in set-
tling such means as may render this fishery permanent and
productive, but would put an end to the many litigations
that take place between the upper and lower proprietors
of our salmon rivers.

Notwithstanding the ancient, and seemingly correct laws
for the conservancy of the Thames, yet trespasses increas-
ed so much, and the offences in fishing became so intricate
and destructive, that the city of London found it necessary
and expedient, in the 30th year of the reign of George II.
to obtain another act of parliament, for the better regulat-
ing the fisheries in that river, and in the waters of Medway.
In pursuance of this statute, the lord mayor (Clark) in 1785
published a set of rules, orders, and ordinances, containing
penalties for a breach of the same ; and annexed to this
publication, are notes by the Lords Mansfield and Lough-
borough approving thereof.

From these ordinances, now acted upon in the court
for the conservation of the river Thames, we select the
following articles, being, as we think, not only well adapt-
ed to, but somewhat explanatory of, the spirit of both the
Scottish and English laws with regard to our salmon fishe-
ries.

" Imprimis, That all unlawful nets and engines, and other
abuses offered to the prejudice and destruction of the fishe-
ry, may be discovered. That no person shall stall the tide
of flood.

2. Item, That no person shall lie or bend over any net
■whatsoever during the time of flood, whereby any kind of
fish may be hindered or kept back from swimming up-
wards, for the benefit and profit of such fishermen, as well
above London Bridge, in the west part of the said river,
under penalty of forfeiting and paying five pounds for eve-
ry such ofience.

3. Item, That no person shall shoot, or place any draw
net, cod net, or other net or engine in the said river Thames,
to catch salmon with, or shall use any net or device to catch
salmon in the said i-iver of Thames, except only with a net'
of full six inches in the mesh, and that no person shall wil-
fully do, or commit, or cause to be done or committed, any
act whatsoever in the said river Thames, whereby any
spawn, or small fry of salmon shall be taken, killed or
destroyed, or whereby any salmon shall be hindered fi'om
passing or going up the said river Thames to spawn,
upon the penalty of forfeiting five pounds for every such
offence.

4. Item, That no person, between the JOtli day of Sep-
tember and the 25th day of January in every year, shall
fish in the said river of Thames, or waters of JNIedway, for
salmon, with any net or nets, engine or device ; or within
that time take, kill, or destroy, in the said river or waters,
salmon of any kind, or ofi'erthem for sale, under the penal-
ty of five pounds for every such offence.

5. Item, Tliat no person shall fish with any net, or lay or
haul any mesh, engine, or device whatsoever, in the said
river or waters, from sun-setting on Saturday night, until
sun-ribing on Monday morning, at any time of the year, un-
der a penalty of forty shillings for every such offence.

18. Item, That no person shall bend any net by anchors,
or otherwise thwart the channel, or draw any other net,

• The Irish conaplain much of the decrease of salmon in their rivers; and Wakefield, in his Statistical Account of Irehind, mentioning
the modes of capture in some of their fisheries, observes, that "flood are more injurious than ebb weirs, as tliey c.itcb the fish in their as-
cent." Vol. ii. p, 88.

FIS

FIX

engine or device, into, upon, or near it; or use any net
with any false or double boUonn, cod, or pouch, under llie
penally of live pounds for every such offence.

20. Ilem, Tlial no person shall fish, or attempt to take
fish, with any sort of net in the night-time, or before sun-
rising;, or after sun-settintj, at any time in the year in the
said river Thames, between Richmond bridge and the city
of London's mark stone above Staiiiesbridge, under a penal-
ty of five pounds for every such ofl'cnce.

24. Jrem, That no salmon caught in the Thames or Mcd-
way, shall be exposed to sale of less weight than six pounds,
under a jjcnalty of five pounds.

47. Item, That no person shall put down at the mouth
af any creek, river, or back water, growing out of the
Thames or Medway, or communicating therewith, or run-
ning into the said river or waters, or at any mill or sluice
witliin the said jurisdiction, any frame net, hoop net, or
purse net, or any wlieel or device whatsoever, to stop, catch,
or liindci' the fish, or spawn, or fry of fish, from coming
into the said river or waters, under a penalty of five pounds
for every such offence.

55. Item, That no person shall have, or occupy, or fix
up, drivedown,or place, or cause to be fixed up, drove down,
or placed in any jiart of the said river Thames or waters
of Medway, any wear, stank, stop, hatch, vveel, reel, or
other device to take fish in, within the jurisdiction afore-
said, under a penalty of five pounds fur every offence, in
breach of any part of this order."

Such arc the ordinances respecting the salmon fishery
observed in the court, held before the lord mayor for the
conservation of the Thames. It is the duty of the water
bailiff, or his assistants, to give notice of trespasses, and the
persons committing them never escape unpunished. The
above articles are not enumerated in order, as the inter-
vening ones apply to other fish than the salmon.

It is much to be wished, that similar regulations were
enacted for the conservation of our rivers in Scotland. Tliat
salmon have of late years greatly decreased in numbers,
and are still fast decreasing, we believe will not be dispu-
ted by anyone, and it can hardly be expected that this fish-
ery will flourish, until all devices and modes of fishing
which prevent them from easily reaching their spawning
grounds be effectually removed. For this purpose, all
stake, took, and other stationary nets, should be prohibited
and declared illegal. A purchase of all cruives should be
made from those persons, who by particular grants now
inherit or possess them. Rights of property, held to be
inconsistent with the common weal, have in the cases of
tithes and thirlage in Scotland, already been the subject of
legislative provisions, the object of which was to remove
the incumbrance on the general prosperity, without inju-
ry to the owner. Perhaps the justice and expediency of
this interposition are still more obvious with regard to
rights of fishing by modes injurious to the fishery at large ;
for each proprietor of such rights has a direct interest in
the benefit that might result from a judicial sale of these,
because, after obtaining the value of his peculiar privilege,
be would share in the increase of the general fishery.

If any alteration should take place in the laws regarding
the capture of salmon, fence time, in Scotlantl termed close
time, should be prolonged, and extended indiscriminately to
all the rivers in Britain; that is, beginning upon the first
of August, and to continue until the end of January, or
from Lammas till Candlemas day. This would prevent
any interruption to salmon in the month of August, when
heavy witn milts and roes, in making u]) to the liead waters
for the purpose of spawning. It would also save many
shotten fish from being taken in December and January,
when on their passage to the sea.

There seems to be no general law respecting the fence
months in the rivers of Scotland, all the fisheries common-
ly commencing and ending at different times, according to
various acts of parliament. In the Forth and Tay, the fish-
eries begin on the 1 1th of December, and terminate on the
26ih of August. In the Tweed, they fish from the llth
of January to the 10th of October. In the north Esk in
Kincardineshire, from Candlemas to Michaelmas. In the
Dee and Don, from the llth of Decein!)er to the 19t:i of
September. In the Spey, from the 30th of November to
the 26th of August.

We cannot accurately ascertain the periods of fishing in
our other piincipal salmon rivers, which, beside the many
tributary streams, are, the Clyde, Luce, South Esk in
Forfarshire, Doveran, Ness, Beauly, Thurso, and the An-
nan, with others running into the Solway Frith.

The chief rivers in England frequented by this fish, are,
the Thames, Medway, Severn, Mersey, Trent, Dee, Ex,
Usk, Wye, Lon, Weever, and Tyne.

London is principally supplied with salmon from Scot-
land. When fresh, they are sent packed up with ice in
boxes ; and those that are pickled in small kits, such as
were first used in Newcastle for that purpose. Although
the sums drawn in this country from the metropolis come
to a very consideiable annual amount, yet vtere proper re-
gulations for this fishery esablished by law, and duly enfor-
ced, not only a great increase in the trade would take place,
but Scotland would he more abundantly provided in sal-
inoti lor home consumption.

For an account of the Whale Fishery, see Whale
Fishery ; an account of the Pearl Fishery, will be
found in our article Cevlon, and of the Anchovy Fish-
ery under our article Anchovy. See also Irelakb.
(ad)

FISHES, Electrical. See Electricity //jrfex.

FISHING. See Angling.

FISTULA. See Surgery.

FIUME, or St Veit, is a sea port town of Istria. It
is situated on the Bay of Fiume, in the Gulf of Venice,
at the mouth of the Fiumara or Reka, at the commence-
ment of a narrow valley, abounding in wines and excellent
fruits. The town is agreeably built, and contains several
good public buildings. The churches are particularly
magnificent. The cathedral, which was not finished when
Keysler visited this city, was adorned with several beauti-
ful marble pillars and statues. The Jesuit's church is of
a circular form, and has a small cupola. Fiume has long
been celebrated for its wax manufactory, and the lefinery
for sugar supplies the whole of the Austiian states with
that article. Many individuals find employment from
these two establishments. The harbour, which is formed
by the river Fiumara, is well frequented. There are here
several considerable commercial houses, and great quan-
tities of goods which come from Hungary are exported
from this place. The town is populous. East Long. 14°
42', North Lat. 45° 45*. See Keysler's Travels, vol. ix.
p. 122, 8vo; and L. F. Cassa's Travels in Istria and Dal-
matia. (w)

FIXED Sound of M. Sauveur. About the beginning
of tlie 18lh century, the autlior above named took a great
deal of pains, in endeavouring to introduce a greater degree
of preciiion into the notation and practice of music, and
with the view of determining the pilch, he pro])osed, that
A in the lowest space of the bass stave,,should be deno-
minated the fixed sound, and make just lOL) complete vi-
brations in o. e second of time. Now the tenor cliff C
being a minurtenth (-^t^) above this A, we have 1200-r-5ZI
240 for the vibrations of this C, wliich being also the re-
sult of several modern experiments on this subject, (see

FLA.

FLA

our article Conceiit Pitch.) we have always used this
pitcli ii) calculutini^ vibrations unci beats in our woi-li.

M. Sauveur also proposed another fi.xed sound or pitch,
which has since been adopted by l)r Thomas Young,
and some other writers, in which an iniap;inary C, eight
octaves below the tenor cliff C, should make exactly one
vibration per second; and conse(|uently tlie latter would
make 256 vibrations, which is to 240 as 16 : 15, siu-wing-
that the lormer pitch is just a major semitone higher than
the latter one in present use ; and that for the mere pur-
pose ot simplicity of description, an erroneous idea of tlie
actual pitch has tlius been conveyed to the student, but
which future writers may avoid, by representing the fixed
sound 1 per sound, as belonging to D|^, eight octaves be-
low tliat, which is the next above the tcnor-clifi' C. (f)

FLAiME. See Chemistry.

FLAMSTEAD, John, a celebrated astronomer, was
born, according to some, in the village of Denby, in the
county of Derby, on the 19th of August 1646, although
others maintain tliat he was born in the town of Dei by.
The registers of both of these parishes were examined in
order to ascertain tliis point, but his birth does not seem to
have been registered, proliably on account of the commo-
tions which at that time agitated England. His father re-
sided at Derby, and he received his classical education at
the free school of that place. At the age of 14, a severe
illness obliged his friends to take him home, where the ac-
cidental perusal of Sacrobosco's treatise De S/ihxra inspi-
red him with a passion for astronomy. By means of the
Caroline tallies, published by Street, he was instructed in
the method of computing eclipses, and the places of the
planets. One of his calculations of an eclipse, procured
hihi the friendship of Mr Emanuel Halton, residing at
Wingfield manor, who was well acquainted with the ma-
thematics, and who supplied young Fhunstead with the
best astronomical works then extant, among which were
Riccioli'b ^Imagestum J\l'ovum, and Kepler's Rudot/ihine
Tables. With these aids he made vapid advances in tlie
knowledge of astronomy, and in the year I 669 he sent a paper
to Lord Brouncker, President of the Royal Society, enti-
tled, '■'■All .Account of .inch of the more remarkable Celestial
Phenomena of the year 1670, as will be cons/iicuous in the
English Horizon."

This paper was read and approved of, and obtained for
young Flamstead the friendship and correspondence of
some of the first astronomers in London. In the year
lero, Flamstead undertook a journey to London, for the
purpose of seeing his scientific friends ; and he iiad the
good fortune to become acquainted with Sir Jonas More,
Mr Collins, and Mr Oldenburg, the first of whom was
ever afterwards his patron and warmest friend. When in
London, he puichased two telescopes, a micrometer, and
several oiher instiunients with which he had not been pro-
vided. After leaving London, he entered himself a student
of Jesus College, Cambridge, where he became acciuaintcd
with Dr Bariow and Sir Isaac Newton. As soon as he
returned to Derby, he resumed his astronomical studies.
In 1671, he sent v the Royal Society calculations of the
ajipulses of the moon to several fixed stars, for the year
1672; and about the end of the same year, he transmitted
another communication, containing his observations on the
ansae of the planet Saturn, made with telescopes, the larg-
est of which was fourteen feet long In the same year, he
observed, with a Townley's micrometer adapted to the
preceding telescope, the relative position of the principal
stars in the Pleiades, and he computed their occultation by
the moon in the subsequent year. In 1673. he composed
a treatise on the true and apparent diameters of the planets,

which Sir Isaac Newton employed in the 4th book of the
Princijiia. When he was in London in 1674, Si J jnas
Moie having informed him, that a true account of the titles
would be acceptable to the king, he composed a small
ephemeris for his majesty's use. He likewise recom-
mended himsi If to the royal favour, by presenting to his
Majesty a pair of barometers, with the method of using
them. Having resolved to enter the church, Mr Flam-
stead was ordained by Bishop Gunning in 1675, but
several years elapsed before he obtained any preferment.
Througli the inliuence chiefly of Sir Jonas More, King
Charles II, was prevailed upon, in 1676, to found the royal
observatory of Greenwich, afterwards called Flanistead-
housc, and to appoint Flamsteatl to the office of Astrono-
mer Royal, with a salary of 100/. per annum. On August
21, 1576, he observed at Greenwich, the occultation of
Mars. In the beginning of 1677, he observed the comet
of that year. In the year 1681, Flamstead's Treatise on
the Doctrine of the Sphere was published in Sir Jonas
More's System of the Ala/ hematics ; and in 1687, he was
presented to the living of Burslow in Surry, which he
retained till his death.

As soon as he had entered upon his new office, Flam-
stead directed almost the whole of his attention to prac-
tical astronomy. By means of the best instruments of the
times, he observed the lunar motions with great assiduity,
and he determined the places of the fixed stars with much
greater accuracy than had been done before. Contrary to
the wishes of Flamstead, an edit'.on of his observations was
pubiisiied in 1712, by Dr Halley, in one volume folio;
but as he would never acknowledge this work as his own,
he prepared a new edition of it ; but before its completion
he died of strangury, on the 31st of December 1719, in
the 73d year of iiis age.

Mr Flamstead was admitted a member of the Royal
Society on the 13th of February 1678, and he contributed
to the transactions of that learned body a great variety of
valuable papers. His celebrity, however, is chiefly found-
ed on his Historia Celestis Britannica, a work in three vo-
lumes folio, which Was publishetl by his widow in 1725.
See Astronomy,

Flamstead is represented by his biographers as of a mo-
rose and unsociable disposition, and as having been on bad
terms with most of liis contemporaries. " From some of
his letters," says Dr Thomson, (^History of the Royal So-
ciety, p. 335,) " it even appears tnat he complained of Sir
Isaac Newton as unreasoiiable in his demands of observa-
tions. Dr Halley, in the preface of the Historia Celesti.*
Britannica, draws rather an unfavourable picture of the
disposition of Flamstead ; and I find, from one of Sir Hans
Sloane's MSS. in the British Museum, that, hi the year
1710, he was e.\pelled the Royal Society, because he re-
fused to pay his annual contri'nution." (&)

FLANDERS, the name of a maritime province in the
Netherlands. It was formerly divided into Austrian,
French, and Dutch Flanders. It now belongs toHoLL.\..\D
and FiiAxoE, which see.

FLAT, in Music, ((7), or flattened intervals, are such as
are depressed or lessened a degree of the scale, a chroma-
tic semitone, or Finger-key Intenal, (see that article.)
As it happens, with tl ^ Numerals, 1, I, 2, H, 3, III, Sec.
of the diatonic scale, that the major and minor of the same
Nu.MERAi. (see that article,) are not at the same invariable
distance from each other ; so the flats of the literals, D[7,
E[7, F[7, kc. are not at one invariable distance from their
naturals D, E, F, Sec. altliough in tempered scales this is
obliged to be the case. Mr Liston has correctly explained
these matters, in his " Essay on perfect Intonation ;" but it

FLK

FLE

may be proper here to put the student on his guard, against
tlie mistakes and incont;ruities of other autliors, by enume-
rating- their different flats.

Flam, oI" Dr Boi/ce, in some parts of his MS. in the li-
brary of llic Royal Inslitmiou, is ~S, or 572-ff-f5m.

Flat, double, of Liston, is invariably Q + J^,oi: 832 + 2f
+ 7m.

Flat, double, (b b)' °' t;hambers and Overend ; some-
times 2 P, or 1 162 + 21+ lOm.; at others, P+g, or 1052 +
2f+9m. .

Flat, oi Liston, to the notes D, G, B, or C, is rzS> °^
472-1- f4-4m ; and to the notes E, F, or A, is IZ^, or 362
+ f+om, the second flat of any note being always the re-
verse of its first one.

Flat, ai Marsh, nCf- or 362 + f+3m.
Flat, of Maxwell,Z=.S^o\- 472 + f+3m.
Flat, of O-cerend, (and Dr Callcolt, Mus. Gram. 1st ed.
p. 1 12), ZZ P, or 582 + f+5m ; this corresponds with /in-
fect fifths. Seethe theorems below.

Flat, of some writers, — L, or 462 + r+4m.
I'lat, of regularly temfiered Scales, is the minor limma
of Dr R. Smith, which, according to Mr Farey's theorems,
Phil. Mag. vol. xxxix. p. 44, is ::z:582 + f+5m — seven
times the temperament of the Vth : Or, zi38. 75 196562 +
f+3m+ seven-fourths of the temperament of the Illd: Or,
11^32. 32285002 + f+2m+ seven-thirds of the temperament
of the Vlth.

From hence we see, by way of examples, that in the
mean-tone system, where the temperament of the llird
—0, the/a« is=:38.7S196562 + f+8m, mP— lie:— for
obtaining the fat of the Isotonic scale, we may either use
the temperament of the Vth, 100065522, of the Illrd,
7.00524162, or of the Vlth, 8.00589682, and either of the
above theorems will give 51.0032762 + f+4m, being -jV
VIII : — and, in the system where the major sixths are fier-
fect, the flat is zzP— 2jc. (f)
FLAX. See Agriculture.

FLECHIER, Esprit, bishop of Nismes, an eminent
I'rench ecclesiastic, was born at Pernes, a small town near
Carpentras, on the 10th of June 1632, of obscure but re-
spectable parents. He was educated at Tarascon, in a
college possessed by the congregation formerly known in
France under the name of the Doctrinaires, or fathers of
the Christian doctrine, of which his maternal uncle was, at
that time, general. At the age of fifteen, having finished
his studies, he employed himself, for some years, in teach-
ing the belles lettres, in the same college. Some time af-
ter he repaired to Paris, and having determined to fix his
residence in that city, he accepted employment in a parish,
and afterwards undertook the education of the son of M.
Lefebvre de Caumartin. From this period, his reputation
rapidly increased, in consequence of the discourses which
he delivered on different festivals of the church ; and his
celebrity procured him admission into the Academy, in the
year 1675. He had the honour of preaching before Louis
XIV. on Advent, 1632.

For his preferment, and the many favours he received
from the king, Flcchier was principally indebted to the ac-
tive patronage and friendship of the Duke of Montaussier,
■who had already procured for him two benefices, and the
abbacy of St Severin, besides the office of almoner to the
dauphiness; when, in the year 1685, he was selected as one
of a mission, which was destined to bring back into the bo-
som of the church, the Protestants of Poitou and Brittaay,
of which mission Fenelon was the chief. On his return, he
was appointed to the bishopric of Lavaur, which he held for
two years, and was then translated to the more lucrative
see of Nismes. The duties of this charge, however, were
much more troublesome than those of the former, on ac-

count of the great number of Calvinists who were then in
open revolt, or ready to break out, against whom the impo-
litic and disastrous edict, revoking that of Nantes, was ri-
gorously executed. In this dillicult situation, the high
character of Flechier became eminently conspicuous. By
his mildness, moderation, and persuasive address, he con-
tributed to assuage the sanguinary zeal of the Catholics ;
his humane virtues conciliated the good will of all parties,
and he received unequivocal testimonies of regard even
from the Calvinists, amidst the horror and devastation of
civil war.

When these troubles were at length appeased, he was
enabled to devote himself, without obstruction, to the ex-
ercise of a zealous and active benevolence. There was
not a single charitable institution at Nismes, which was
not either founded by him, or indebted to his liberality for
support. His favours were indiscriminately conferred up-
on unfortunate persons of all descriptions, without regard
to religious opinions; and in the disastrous winter of 1709,
his charity was only limited by the total expenditure of his
funds. When some one, upon that occasion, represented
to him the <lisagreeable consequences which might ensue
to himself from such profuse liberality, he answered,
" What you say is, perhaps, very true ; but are we bishops
for nothing r" He was as much the enemy of superstition
and fanaticism, as he was zealous for the maintenance of
pure religion; and he laboured with ardour and efficacy to
reform and instruct his clergy, and to enlighten and relieve
the people from that blind ignorance and credulity, which
are often abused for the purpose of misleading them. The
well-known story of the A'un o/ A'ismes, which furnished
the subject of a drama to an esteemed French author of
later times, bears strong testimony to his enlightened hu-
manity, and to the sensibility of his heart.

Amidst the manifold and important duties of his charge,
Flechier did not entirely neglect the cultivation of letters,
to which he originally owed his celebrity and his elevation.
The academy of Nismes, which had been founded before
his time, was indebted to him for a new existence, and,
among other advantages, for that of being affiliated with
the French academy. To the latest period of his life, he
enjoyed a vigorous state of health, a blessing which result-
ed in a great measure from his simple and moderate ha-
bits, and the equality of his temper. He died on the 16th
of February 1710, at the age of 78.

The moral character of Flechier is sufficiently elucidated
by the preceding narrative. As an author, his reputation
rests principally on his Oraisons Funebres, which, although
inferior, perhaps, in point of genius and true eloquence to
those of Bossuet, are written with an elegance and brillian-
cy of expression, and in an affecting strain of Christian pi-
ety, which have procured them a considerable portion of
admiration, and given them a place among the classical
productions of the French divines. His style is remarka-
bly polished ; even in his familiar letters, and notes written
upon ordinary occasions, his language had a finished cor-
rectness, which, in any other person might be taken for the
effect of labour and affectation ; but whiih, in him, resulted
from a profound study of the delicacies of the French
tongue, and a habit which he had acquired of constantly
writing with the utmost attention to propriety and elegance
of expression. The complete works of Flechier were pub-
lished at Nismes, in ten volumes 8vo. in 1782. (r)

FLENSBOURG isthe name of a sea-port town of Den-
mark, situated on the eastern coast of the duchy of Sles-
wick, and though not the capital, is the most opulent and
important place in the duchy. The streets are rather nar-
row, and the houses, though not so neat and clean as those
of Sleswick, arc constructed in a more substantial and du-

FLETCHER.

rable manner. Like that town, it consists principally of
one very long street. The back of this street looks to-
wards the harbour, and on tliat side each house has a gar-
den, separated fioni the water by an agreeabl<; promenade.
On the right is the harbour, filled with vessels, and on the
left are the gardens, each of which has a door opening into
the promenade. Kuttner informs us, that the harbour is
safe and convenient, and was full of ships when he saw it.
It is narrow close to the town, but tlie whole bay, cailt-d
Fiensbourg Wisk, is 18 miles long, and may be regarded
as a harbour, as it has a sufficient depth for large vessels,
and is sheltered from every wind by the surrounding hills.
The trade of this town has been very important since
the middle of the last century. It is carried on principally
with Norway, Denmark, and Sweden, and consists of bran-
dy, grain, skins, provisions, wines, and stuffs. The wines
and stuffs are brought from France, England, Spain, and
America. The inhabitants trade also with Iceland, Green-
land, and Finland. The number of commercial houses is
from 120 to 130. The following is a list of the vessels be-
longing to the town.

Number of vessels,
1780, .... 134
1783, .... 200
1788, .... 218
1797, .... 257

In 1797, the number of sailors was 1597. There are no
fewer than 200 establishments for manufacturing and dis-
tilling brandy, and these have served, at the same lime, to
fatten 4000 head of cattle, and as many swine. The town
also contains five refineries of sugar, 40 manufactories of
tobacco, and several tanneries. Tlie position of the town,
according to trigonometrical observations, is, East Long. 9°
27' 4 j", and North Lat. 54° 47' 18". See Kuttner's Vra-
-iiels through Denmark, Siveden, 8cc. Lett. I.; and C-Utcau
Calleville, Tableau dc la Mer Baltique, totn.ii. p. 32 5. (to)

FLETCfiER, Anduew, of Salton, in East Lotliian, was
a statesman anil a patriot of the higliesi; order ; and though
Scotland, his native land, was the chief object of his exer-
tion?, yet, wherever the love of country and of liberty pre-
vails, he deserves to be remembered with respect and gra-
tiuide. His powers, too, were called forth at a period of the
greatest importance in tlie British annals. His paternal
grandfather, whose Christian name he bore, was one of the
fifteen Judges of the Court of Session, by the style of Lord
Innerpeffer, His father was Sir Robert Fletcher of Salton
and Innerpeffer; and his motiier, wiiose name was Catha-
rine, daughter of Sir Robert Bruce of Clackmannan, deri-
ved her descent from the royal and truly illustrious race of
Bruce. Andrew Fletcher was the eldest son of this mar-
liage, and was horn in the year 165 3, though in some
sketches of his life the date of bis binn is stated to be 1 650.
T le celebrated and excellent Gilbert Burnet was but 10
years older than young Fletcher ; and, as Sir Robert Fletch-
er presented him to the rectorship of Salton, w.iich he filled
with most exemplary fidelity from 1664 to 16 9, Andrew
enjoyed the rare advantage of iiaving ins principles formed,
and his mind cultivated, by Dr Burnet, to whom his father,
at his death, wisely consigned the care of his son.

Gifted by nature with uncommon powers, it is not sur-
prising that, under such a preceptor, he made rapid pro-
gress in classical knowledge, historical erudition, and ge-
neral literature. His hereditary love of liberty, connected
witi, his indignation at the tyrannical proceedings which
marked the conduct of the administration of Charles the
Second, after the restoration of that unprincipled king, gave
an unfavourable bias to his temper, and seems even to have
fnade him regret that union of the crowns of Scotland and

Vol.. IX. Pai;t I.

England which was so essentially conducive to the peace

and prosperity of l)0th divisions of the island.

Having amply rjualified himself, by the deep and solid
foundation which had been laid by Burnet and his other in-
structors, for receiving improvement, by pcisonal observa-
tion of men and manners, he travelled for some time on the
Continent, and was, soon after his return, elected to repre-
sent East Lothian in the Scottish parliament, which consis-
ted only of a single house. While James, Duke of York,
acted as lord high commissioner in Scotland, Fletcher dis-
tinguished himself in ))articular by his strenuous opposition '
to the measures of the court, and particularly to the Bill of
Accession. Having connected himself with the Earl of
Ai gyle, he became so obnoxious that he found it necessary
to consult his personal safety by leaving Scotland. After
remaining for a time in retirement in London, where he
had an opportunity of seeing and consulting his friend and
former instructor Burnet, now a distinguished preacher,
and occasionally a faithful monitor of King Charles, of
whose personal and political prolligacy he afterwards be-
came the steady opponent, Fletcher by his advice went to
Holland, and was soon after declared an outlaw in Scotland,
and his estate confiscated. In the United Provinces he and
many of the friends of religion and liberty found an asylum.

He returned to England in 1683, with his friend and
countryman Robert Baillie of Jerviswood, who, in the fol-
lowing year, died on a scaffold at Edinburgh, for having
aided or connived at the expedition under the Duke of
Monmouth, and the unfortunate Eaii of Argyle. It is re-
corded to the honour of this virtuous man, that though he.
was offered his life on condition of revealing what he knew
of Fletcher's connection with this fatal enterprise, he no-
bly rejected the jM-oposal, and died, as he had lived, the
friend of religious and civil liberty.

As to Fletcher, it appears that he acted a still more im-
portant part on that occasion than his friend ; not only be-
ing a statesman, but having great knowledge in military
affairs, he actually bore arms in that part of the expedition
which landed in England, and served under Monmouth ; but
finding that, contrary to his engagement, that rash leader
caused himself to be proclaimed king without the choice
and consent of the people, and without any of those wise
limitations which Fletcher considered necessary, he quitted
his standard, and concealed himsslf till he found an oppor-
tunity of returning to the Continent. It is stated, that while
he had the command of a party in this expedition, he killed
the mayor of Lynn, in a dispute which arose about a horse
belonging to that gentleman, which had been pressed into
the service by his tiocips. It has even been said, that this
event rendered him so unpopular in the little army, that it
was deemed advisable for him to retire. Fletcher himself,
however, complained of the gross injustice which had been
done him in the account of that transaction ; and, in his
own account of his conduct on this occasion, which he af-
terwards gave to the Earl Mareschal of Scotland, he utterly
denied that it had any thing to do with his leaving Mon-
mouth ; in proof of which he stated, that he had continued
with him till the proclamation above alluded to was made
at Taunton, which Fletcher regarding as a violation of the
Duke's engagement, and of his duty to the nation, absolved
him from all farther engagement to serve under him.

The vessel in which Fletcher made his escape, was
bound for Spain. Information having, by some unknown
means, reached the English minister at Madrid, of his ar-
rival, he applied to the Spanish government, who caused
him to be apprehended and put in prison, in order to his
being transmitted to London. But he escaped in a manner
s ' extraordinary, that if it had not formed a p:\rt of Ids ac-
count of himself to the Earl Mareschal, it might have been

FLETCHER.

deemed incredible. On the eve of his departure, a stran-
ger of a venerable aspect made sifjnais to him through the
bars of his prison. T'lelchcr, on lookiiu; around him, found
a door uidocked ; and, on going out at it, was joined by his
deliverer, who conducted him in silence through three
guards of soldiers, who were, or appeared to be, asleep,
lie was then assisted in escaping IVom the place, by ano-
ther person equally unknown. He proceeded through
Spain in disguise; and, having credit on a house in Am-
sterdam, he spent a considerable time in examining the
scenery and curiosities of the country, and purchased many
curious books, wliich the Earl of Uuchau, in his Essay on
the Life of Fletcher, informs us are still preserved in the
family library at Sidton. During his journey he met with
several singular and providential deliverances, which he
used to recount to his iViends with pleasing and pious emo-
tion, regarding them as proofs of the special protection of
heaven.

VVe next find him serving as avoluntcer in the Hunga-
rian war under the Duke of Lorrain. Meanwhile he had
not been an inattentive observer of the signs of the times
in his native land ; but, having availed himself of such op-
portunities as occurred, of learning what was going on at
home and in Holland, he gave up his prospects of military
fame and promotion, and joined the band of exiles and pa-
triots from IJritain, who wcie preparing at the Hague for
the execution of the grand enterprizc on which the liber-
ties of his country were suspended. Having declined to
accept James the Seventh's act of indemnity, under which
several persons of distinction had recovered their estates
and honours, he came over with the Prince of Orange in
1633, along with Bishop IJurnet, Sir Patrick Hume, kc.
The success of this grand effort is detailed in its proper
place. At present, we have to do with Tletcher, who,
whilst in Holland, asserted the rights and liberties of Scot-
land previous to the Revolution, against William Prince
of Orange, with a firmness and unbending zeal which
made him appear as desirous of giving the crown without
the sceptre, and prevented him from being a favourite of
the prince.

In the Convention Parliament which met in Scotland af-
ter the Revolution, he was a strenuous advocate for popu-
lar freedom and regal limitations; and it is a circumstance
highly honourable to him, that, except regaining posses-
sion of his family-estate, which happened as a matter of
course, he never seems to have enjoyed or desired any of-
fice, emolument, or pension, whatever. " .A'on sibi sed fia-
triie" was the noble principle on which he acted. King
William respected and feared him ; but finding him " too
fond of the right, to pursue the expedient," did not confide
in him.

In Fletcher's Political Works, which were published in
one 8vo. volume in 1737, we find seventeen speeches that
had been delivered by him in the Scottish parliament, most
of them about the year 1703 ; and all except three on the
great questions which then agitated the nation, relative to
the settlement of the Scottish crown, in the event of the
death of Queen Anne without issue. In these speeches,
which are certainly a great historical and literary curiosity,
he advocates with great boldness the cause of popular right
against royal privilege ; laments the degeneracy of the no-
bility and people from the high spirit of their ancestors,
and reproaches them for their servility to England. He
brought in and supported a bill, entitled " Act for the se-
curity of the Kingdom," which, had it passed, would have
lodged the whole executive power in the hands of the par-
liament, and rendered the king a mere puppet to be shewn
at a procession. Against this alarming project, the Queen's
oommissioner exerted all his influence, and even signified

that as, without the touch of the royal sceptre oFhcially
given to the act, as the Scottish mode of expressing the
royal assent, it would not have the force of a law ; so that
assent must be withheld, even if the scheme should obtain
the sanction of parliament. Finding this could not be car-
ried into a law, he formally moved, that " the proposed li-
mitations should be declared by a resolution of the House
of Parliament, to be the conditions upon which the nation
-.vilt receive a successor to the crown of this realm, after the
decease of her present Majesty, and f;iiling heirs of her
body, in case the said successor shall be also king or queen
of England." (Fletcher's Political Works, Speeches No.
III. and IV.) Even in the present age of free discussion,
we can hardly find an instance of greater boldness than this.
From the close of this motion, his dislike to the union of
the crowns will be seen, as it evidently implies that if Scot-
land should choose a separate king, he would not consider
to many limitations necessary. Yet even if this latter event
had taken plf.ce, there is no doubt that Fletcher would have
displayed his characteristic jealousy of princes in a man-
ner calculated sufficiently to fetter the power of the crown.
He did not hesitate afterwards boldly to assert the consti-
tutional riglit of the Scottish parliament to scpaiatc the
crown of Scotland from that of England, at the close of the
then existing entail of the crown, and to express his con-
viction of the necessity of this measure for the welfare of
Jiis native land. Happily for Great Britain and the world
these projects proved unsuccessful ; and we cannot suffi-
ciently wonder, that one so well acquainted with the nature
of man, and with the constitutional and political history of
the two divisions of the island, should have calmly formed
such a design. It seems to us a striking proof of the power
of earlv prejudice over the wisest and best-intenlioned
minds. Had William and Mary, or their successor Queen
Anne, been as bigotted and tyrannical, as they were in truth
lit>eral and tolerant in their domestic and foreign policy, we
could wiih less difficulty have explained the conduct of
Fletcher on this occasion.

We regret that none of his spceclies on the union of the
parliament of Scotland with that of England, which was
proposed in the succeeding sessions, and which, after a
great deal of angry and dangerous contention, was enacted
in 1706, and actually cairied into effect in 1707, have been
published. His general sentiments on that subject will be
found, however, in the very amusing paper usually print-
ed as the last in the volume of his works. It is entitled,
" An account of a conversation concerning a right regula-
tion of governments for the common good of mankind. Sec.
1703." In the report of the characters and dialogue, he
shews considerable dramatic skill; and in his own part of
the scene, he displays a degree of politeness and address
superior to any thing of this kind to be found in his parlia-
mentary speeches. Though Fletcher did not succeed to
the extent that he desired, he laid his country under great
obligations, by the modified " Act of Security," which was
eventually passed, and by the many wise and salutary pro-
visions which he caused to be connected with the measure.
One hundred and eight years have now elapsed since this
most important act of union was adopted ; and the progres-
sive improvement and happiness of the two countries fully
■warrant us to consider it as one of the gieatest political
blessings we enjoy. The gloomy predictions of its ene-
mies have been completely reversed, and greater benefits
have resulted from it than the most sanguine could have
reasonably anticipated. Several of the principal speeches
delivered by the opponents of this union have come down
to us, and deserve to be preserved as curious memorials of
opinions that have passed away. Of these, perhaps the
most eloquent is that of Hamilton, Lord Belhaven, in whicbj

FLINTSHIRE.

with much poetical pathos, he drew a most affecting pic-
ture of its evil consequences. With peculiar and almost
prophetic felicity, the Earl of Marchmont replied, " I have
heard a long speech, and a very terrible one ; but it requires
■only this short ansvifer. Behold ! he dreamed ; lo, when he
awoke, he found it was a dream."

The Earl of Buchan, who published his brief memoir of
Fletcher chiefly on the authority of a manuscript history of
the family, gives no account of him beyond the year 1703 ;
and does not even notice the time or manner of his death.
We think it extremely probable that he had a seat in the
parliament of Great Britain; but that the advanced period
of his life, and his dissatisfaction with the union, prevented
him from taking a leading part in the deliberations of that
assembly. He died in London in the year 1716, at the age
of 63. His remains were brought to Scotland, and inter-
red in the family vault at Salton.

As a man, Andrew Fletcher was endowed with high ta-
lents, great courage, integrity, generosity, and temperance.
On the purity of his intentions as a patriot, the exertions
and sufferings of his life form the best commentary. He
was a most elegant scholar, and an accomplished orator.
His speeches are remarkable for their plainness and ener-
gy, and form, by their brevity, a striking contrast to the
wordy eloquence of the present day. His " Discourse con-
cerning the affairs of Spain," originally published in the
Italian language, but which appeared in an English dress
in the 12mo edition printed at Glasgow in 1749, displays
an ample and profound acquaintance with the interest, po-
licy, and connections of the continental states, as well as of
Great Britain, and shews him to have been deeply ac-
quainted with the doctrine of the balance of power, which
has since been the theme of so much discussion, and the
cause of so much strife among the philosophers, jioliticians,
and warriors of Europe. His " Discourse on the establish-
ment of a national militia," is learned and ingenious, but
too Utopian to admit of a practical application. His "Two
Discourses on the affairs of Scotland," contain many curi-
ous views of the state of society at the time when they were
written. On one topic only, we must ofi'er a lew remarks.
These Discourses were written in 1693, when, in conse-
quence of some years of barrenness, a scarcity, or rather a
famine, existed through the land, and occasioned the most
severe sufferings to the lower classes. The author de-
clares, that besides those who were scantily provided for
out of the church boxes, there were at the time when he
wrote, not less than 200,000 persons in Scotland begging
from door to door. "And though," he observes, "the
number of them be perhapsdouble to what it was formerly,
by reason of this present distress, yet in all time there have
been about 100,000 of those vagabonds, who have lived
without any regard either to the laws of the land, or even
to those of God and nature." He tells us also, that when
he considers the many excellent laws enacted by former
parliaments, for setting the poor to work, particularly those
made in the reign of James VI. contrasted with their utter
inutility ; when he considered farther, that all the other na-
tions in Europe, Holland alone excepted, groaned under a
similar pressure, he was led to suspect that neither the
cause nor the remedy of the evil had been discovered. As
no such evil had been complained of by the classical wri-
ters of antiquity, and as much poverty was the consequence,
in Europe, of the manumission of slaves by their Christian
masters, he gravely supposes that the existence of domes-
tic slavery was the cause of the comfort and industry of the
lower orders in former times. It will hardly be credited
by those who are acquainted with his high notions of poli-
tical riglit, and his constant jealousy of the power and am-
bition of princes, tiiat he proposes reducing all those per-

sons and their posterity to slavery, by a solemn act of the
legislature, that on the one hand they might be compel-
led to work, and on the oilier might be insured of the ne-
cessaries of life. A more extraordinary remedy for a pub-
lic evil, all circumstances considered, was never surely de-
vised ; and though he guards the projected plan against the
dangen of leading to extreme op[)ression, by salutary and
humane regulations, wc may safely say, that a less juslilia-
ble or less effectual remedy could hardly have occurred to
a thinking mind. The evil has long since disappeared, in
consequence, chiefly, perhaps, of the provision for public
instruction in the principles of religion and morality, made
by an act of the Scottish parliament, two years before
Fletcher's discourse was written, viz. in 1696. We regret
that the accounts of this excellent man are so meagre and
scanty ; and we consider a good account of his life and wri-
tings as an important desideratum in the literature of our
native country. (/)

FLINTSHIRE, is a maritime county, and the most nor-
thern in North Wales. It consists of a narrow slip of land,
that runs from north-west to south-east ; and is bounded
by the Irish Sea on the north ; by the estuary of the Dee,
and the county of Chester, on the north-east and east ; and
by Denbighshire on the south and west. At the distance
ot some miles from the main body of the county there is a
detached portion, separated by the interposition of Den-
bighshire, and nearly surrounded by Shropshire and Che-
shire. This disjoined piece consists of the hundred of
INIaelor Saesneg. Maelaivr, in the Welsh language, sig-
nifies a place of trafhc, mart, or market. There were for-
merly many districts so denominated, near the marches or
boundaries of the pricipalily, which were considered neu-
tral ground, where trade was carried on. This detached
portion of Flintshire, therefore, was most probably the
neutral ground, on which the English, or Saesneg, as the
Welsh even yet style them, met the latter for the purposes
of traffic.

Flintshire, with the exception of the isle of Anglesey, is
the smallest of the Welsh counties, the main portion of it
being about 28 miles in length, and in no place above 10
in breadth, — generally much less. Its circumference is
1 13 miles. Its area contains 3u9 square miles, or 197,760
statute acres. It is divided into five hundreds, viz. Coles-
hill, which contains 4 parishes, 3 townships, and 1 borough ;
Maelor, the disjoined hundred already mentioned, which
contains 5 parishes, 1 extra parochial place, 9 townships,
and 1 chapelry ; Mold, which contains 2 parishes, 2 town-
ships, and 1 chapelry ; Prestatyn, which contains 4 pa-
rishes, and 3 townships ; and Rhyddlan, which contains 8
parishes, 1 township, and the town of Holywell. The num-
ber of entire parishes in the county is 16, and there are 9
parts of parishes. It contains one city, St Asaph ; one
county town, Flint; and five market towns. It is in the
province of Canterbury, and the diocese of St Asaph and
Chester. It is in the same circuit with the latter coun-
ty; the assizes are held at Mold. It returns two members
to parliament, one for the county, and one for Flint ; or
rather, the right of election is vested in the inhabitants
of the boroughs of Flint, Rhyddlan, Overton Caerwys,
and Caergurley, including the inhabitants of Knolleton
and Overton foreign, paying scot and lot, who amount to
about 1000 voters. Flintshire pays one half part of the
land-tax.

This county is not nearly so uneven in its surface as
many other parts of Wales. The northern extremity as
well as the detached part, is mostly a level tract ; and the
southern portion is agreeably diversified with hill and dale.
On the Denbighshire side, tiic county is backed by a lofty
chain of mountains, that overlook the Vale of CIvwd ; from

N 2 ' •

100

FLINTSHIKE.

the banks of the Dee, the land rises rapidly to a ridge of
hills, which run lor a considerable way parallel to tliat ri-
ver. The Vale of Mold, in the southern part of the
county, is uncommonly rich and Ijeautiful. The Vale of
Clywd, also, partly belongs to Flintshire ; the city of St
Asaph being situated on the river Clywd, in the centre of
it. At this place the vale is between four and five miles
broad.

The low part of Flintshire consists, for the most part,
of a clayey or loamy soil : whereas, the soil of the hills is
lighter, and much more barren. The rivers arc the Dee,
Clywd, Wheeler, Sevion, and Allen ; but only the last
three can properly be described under the head of this
county. The Wheeler rises near Caerwys, a marktt-town
near the middle of the county ; its course is nearly west,
and it falls into the Clywd almost opposite Denbigh. The
Sevion rises to the north of Caerwys; its course is also
west, and it falls into the Clywd a few miles to the north-
west of St Asaph. The Allen rises a few miles to the
south of Ruthin, in Denbighshire : at first, its course is
to the north ; it next winds to the east ; and falls into the
Dee to the north of Wrexham in Denbighshire. Near
the town of Mold, this river sinks under ground, and is
lost for a short space. The climate of Flintshire par-
takes, though not in a very great degree, ot the nature of
the climate of North Wales ; being rather mild near the
sea, but wet: the hilly parts are exposed to cold and sharp
winds.

Flintshire presents nothing striking or instructive in an
agricultural point of view. On the liat tract, in ils nor-
thern extremity, a considerable quantity of corn is grown,
especially wlieat, of which a good deal is exported to Li-
verpool. In the rest of the low portion of the county, the
land is applit^d to the production of both corn and grass.
Flintshire is one of the breeding counties of Wales. Tlic
cattle are of the common small black kind, for the most
part : formerly the farmers kept a great number of bees,
from the honey of which they made metheglin or mead;
but this practice is now greatly discontinued. The low
part of the county is well-stocked with wood.

The importance of I'lintshire is derived almost entirely
from its mineral productions ; of these, the lead mines in
the vicinity of Holywell are the most valuable and curious.
The entrance to one of the largest is through a water
level, cut from the bottom of the lowest shaft : at the ex-
tremity of the level is a mill, which is turned by the waste
water from the mine. The first 600 yards of the canal
are cut through shale and chertz : the remainder, (700
yards), through hard limestone. The veins of this mine
are unusually rich, the principal seam being from five to
six feet thick. Sixty miners are usually employed in it.
The great bank of ore is found about 40 yards from the
surface, dipping down gradually almost as low as the le-
vel. The ore is chiefly galena ; considerable quantities of
calamine are also procured. Some kinds of the lead ore
contain silver sufficient to repay, with profit, the expence
of separating it from the lead ; and several thousand ounces
of silver have been annually extracted in this county, and
sent to the manufactures of Sheffield and Birmingham.
The calamine is partly exported, and partly used in the
brass works near Holywell. In the south-eastern parts of
the county, there are considerable coal mines, from which
the city of Chester is in a great measure supplied. Mill-
stones are also found in Flintshire ; and some years ago as
they weic sinking coal pits in the parish of Mold, a sort
of black slate was found, with a very distinct impression
of the leaves of plants on it. At Caergurley, in this coun-
ty, is a mineral water, which contains a small proportion
of sea salt, a little calcareous earth, and a portion of mu-

riate of magnesia. The famous well of St Winifrid at Ho-
lywell, which was formerly so much visited and used for
its supposed miraculous healing powers, is, in fact, only a
most copious stream of very cold and Very pure water. It
is contained within a handsome shrine adjoining the church,
and issues forth from a large well at the foot of a high hill;
over the well an elegant Gothic roof is raised : it after-
wards flows into a stone reservoir, forming the consecrated
bath, and after a farther course of about a mile, unites with
the Dee.

The principal manufactures in Flintshire are those of
copper and brass near Holywell. The refined copper is
received from Swansea and Hanley in the form ol solid
blocks or griss. The articles of chief importance export-
ed from these works, are copper sheets and nails for
sheathing ships, copper bolts for ships, copper and brass
wire, copper plates for various purposes, many of them
most beautifully polished in a lathe, manillas, bracelets,
&c. co])per and brass pans, some fA them of vast size used
at home, others very broad and shallow, sent to Africa,
where they are used in making salt from the sea water by
evaporation in the sun. I'he whole of the manufactured
copper and brass is shipped on the Dee, just below tl>fe
manufactory, and sent to Liverpool, whence it is exported
to India, America, Sec. All the mechanical power, which
is very great, is given by the stream from the Holywell to
large water wheels of cast iron. Besides affording the re-
quisite power for these works, the Holywell turns water
mills for corn, snuff, cotton, he. so that, in the short course
of one mile, it turns 1 1 great wheels. The cotton spun
here is much esteemed, on account of the uniform tex-
ture and quality produced by the constant and regular
force which this body of water exens, discharging about
21 tons in a minute from the spring head, and never
freezing, even in the severest winters. Near Norlhop
are considerable potteries, at which are made large quan-
tities of coarse earthen ware, much of which is exported
-to Ireland.

From the returns to the House of Commons in 1803,
respecting the state of the poor, it appears that the mo-
ney raised for their support in Flintshire that year amount-
ed to L. 16,130 : 7 : 85, whereas in 1783, 1784, and 1785,
it averaged only L. 8035 : 9 : 5, and in 1776, it was only
L. 4176: 10:8; the average rate in 1803 was 5s. 4Jrf. in
the pound. No money appears to have been earned by the
poor towards their own support. The number of persons
relieved out of workhouses was 1572, in woikhouses 25.
There were 18 friendly societies, coi.laining 3307 mem-
bers. The number of children in the schools of industry
was 62.

F'rom the returns under the property act, it appears,
that in 1810, the annual value of property in this county,
from land, houses, tithes, quarries, mines. Sec. amounted
to 148,732/.; and it is lemarkable that there is no tithe
free land in it. The amount of the incomes from trades
was 44,371/.

In 1700, the population of Flintshire was 19,500: in
1750, 29.700; in 1801, 41,000 ; and in 1811 there were.

Inhabited houses, 8,815

Families in them, 9,740

Houses building, . \ ...... . 51

uninhabited, 155

Families employed in agriculture, . . 4.086

in trade, he 3,009

All other families, 2,645

Males, 22,712

Females, 23,806

Total, 46,518

FLO

101

The bEtptisms brought to account in the parish regis-
ter abstract, are four to each marriage : to every 31 of tlie
population, there appeared to be one baptism, and one bu-
rial to every 53, and one maniage to every 154 of the po-
pulation.

At the invasion of the Romans, Flintshire was inhabit-
ed by the Ordovices: it was called by the former Venedo-
tia, probably from the Veneti, in Armorica, who, accord-
ing to Caesar, frequently visited Britain. The Ordovicos
were the last of the British tribes con(iuered by the Ro-
mans. On a marsh in the neighbourhood of Rhyddlan was
fought, in 795, a battle betwixt the Saxons and Welsh, in
which the latter were defeated ; their prince, Carador, was
slain, and the event was deemed so disastrous, that a plain-
tive tunc, still popular in Wales, was composed on the oc-
casion.

The antiquities in this county are few, and not of much
moment. Bod-farii on the Clywd, to tlie south-east of St
Asaph, is supposed to be the Varis of Antoriinus : near
this city, also, are the remanis of a circular fortilication;
and near Hope, in the south-east of the county, a Roman
hypocaust, or hot-bath, was discovered some years ago.
On Moslyn mountain, there is a stone pillar, with charac-
ters on it, hitherto not deciphered.

Flint Town is a small town on the Dee, governed by
a mayor and 2 bailiffs: it is without tiade. It was former-
ly noted for its castle, built on a rock, close to the sea. In
it Richard II. took shelter on his arrival from Ireland ; but
having quitted it, he was taken prisoner by the Duke of
Lancaster. The castle is now in ruins. The town con-
tains 1433 inhabitants.

See Davies' Vie'tv of the Agriculture of JVorth TVales ;
A. Aikin's Journal of a Tour through Xorth Wales; Bing-
ley's JVorth Wales; Evans' Cambrian Itinerary; Pennant's
Tour in Wales, (w. s )

FLCETZ RocKS. See Mineralogy..

FLINTS. See Mineralogy.

F'LOATING Bodies. See Hydrodynamics, and Ship-
Building.

FLOOD. See Deluge.

FLORENCE, a celebrated city of Italy, is situated on
the banks of tlie river Arno, in North Lat. 43" 46' oo", and
East Long. 6° 15' 45", according to sidereal observations.
It is distant 150 miles from Rome, and about 60 from the
shores of that part of the Mediterranean called the Mare
Infcrum, or Tuscan Sea.

Few cities have received from nature more advantages
than Florence. The Valdarno, or Vale of Arno, is the
Arcadia of the Italian poets; and even Milton himself fre-
quently alludes to the exquisite beauties of its scenery.

O ego quantus eram, f,'elidi cum stratus ad Arni
Murmura, populeum que nemus, qua moliioi- lierba
Carpere nunc violas, nunc summas carpere myrtos.

Epi r. Dan.

Behind the city rise hills covered with olive and fig
trees, and other plants, natives of the warmer climates;
still farther are high mountains, clothed with immense
forests of chesnut trees, and adorned with small towns,
sometimes boldly rising on their sides, and at other limes
half concealed in their woods and recesses; while beyond
them, in the distance, rise the naked and rugged summits
of the lofty Apennines. The whole valley is one conti-
nued grove and garden, where the beauty of the country
is enlivened by the animation of the town, and the fertility
of the soil, redoubled by the industry of its cultivators.
Such indeed is the richness of the plain, that five crops of
wheat or maize are taken in the course of three years.
The trees in the hedge-rows are covered with vines, which

are trained upon their stems; while the white villas that
gleam through the orchards, and the populous hamlets
tliat line the roads and banks of the river, present on eve-
ry side a scene of comfort and prosperity.

The city itself spreads along the side of the river, which
forms one of its greatest ornaments. Its streets are well
paved, or rather flagged, wider than usual in southern
climates ; and its houses in general solid, and rather stately.
It has several squares, and many churches and palaces, su
that its appearance is airy, clean, and sometimes rising
towards grandeur.

The first edifice which arrests the attention of the tra-
veller is the cathedral, (conioionly called in Florence II
Duotno,) a building of gre.it extent and magnificence, and
in boldness and skill infeiior only to St Peter's at Rome.
This building is 425 feet in length, and 363 in height. It
is completely cased with polished black and while marble,
and the interior paved with variegated raaible, part of
which was arranged by Michael Angclo.

Its most remarkable feature, however, is the dome,
which was raised under the directions of Philip Biunel-
lesco, the most celebrated architect of the 15th century.
The dimensions are within a few feet of the dome of St
Peter's; and as it is prior to it in date by nearly a century,
and was always the peculiar object of Michael Angelo's
admiration, we may conclude, that the plan of the Roman
edifice was at least in part suggested by the Florentine.
But, in many respects, the inferiority of the latter is un-
deniable. The octagonal sliape, less simple, has conse-
quently less grandeur ihan the circular, and, from being
closed at the lop, there is a want of light to illuminate the
vast vault below. This is indeed the general defect of
the church, the windows being small, and the little light
they admit diminished by the deep and rich colouis of the
painted glass. Such at least is the opinion of Italian
critics, though to British eyes, accustomed to associate
ideas of sublimity with the gloomy grandeur of our Gothic
cathedrals, these very defects will appear to be excel-
lencies. The statues which adorn the church both within
and without, are most of them the works of the most
eminent sculptors, and a*fSw of the pictures are of the first
rate of excellence. Among the most remarkable of the
former, are the statue of Ijrunellesco, and those on the
altar, the productions of Bandineili and Michael Angelo.
Of the latter, those in the interior of the dome by Zuccheri
and Vasari, and the portraits of Dame and Giotto, are most
worthy of attention ; the first, for their intrinsic beauty, and
the others, on account of the distinguished characters to
whose memory they are consecrated. Detached from the
church stands the bellVy, a light and elegant tower, in-
crusted with variegated marble, and, like the church,
adorned with statues. The general baptistery of ihe city,
which fronts the principal entiy of the church, is also an
octangular building of great magnificence. It is chiefiy
remaikable for the bas=o relievos wliich adorn its three
great bronze portals. They are the work of Andrea Uga-
lini, of Pisa and Lorenzo Ghiberti, and were so highly
admired by Michael Angelo, that he called them the
" Gates of Paradise." Before the principal gate of the
baptistery are two columns of porpliyry, on which are
suspended the immense chains with which the Pisans, in
1406, attempted to close up their harbour against the
Florentines and Genoese, and which were afterwards
brought to Florence as a trophy of victory. See Civil
ARcHiTEcruRE, vol. vi. and Plate CLXXIII. where we
have given a plan and vertical section of this church.

The next, and indeed the only other church which de-
servi s a particular description, is that of San Lorenzo in
the northern part of the city. This also was planned by

102

FLORENCE.

Bruncllesco, but is, both iu design and magnificence, in-
ferior to tlie Duomo. It lias, liowever, attained to high
celebrity, from two buildings attached to it, the Sacristy
and the Mcdicean Chapel. Tl:e first was one of the earliest
works of Michael Angelo, and is decorated with 7 statues
by the same artist ; and although most of them are unfin-
ished, yet the eye of the connoisseur will easily discern in
them, the genius and boldness of design, which so emi-
nently characterize the productions of that great sculptor.
The chapel which adjoins the back of the church was
begun in 16u4 by Ferdinand I. Grar.d Duke of Tuscany,
who intended not only to have removed thither the niau-
solca of his ancestors, but was in treaty to purchase the
holy sepulchre at Jerusalem. The plan of the building
was every way worthy of the purpose for which it was
intoided. " Its form is octagonal, its diameter 94, and its
elevation to the vault 200 feet. It is literally lined with
lapis lazuli, jasper, onyx, &c. furnished with sarcophagi
of porphyry, and supported by granite pilasters with capi-
tals of bronze. The niches between these pilasters are of
touchstone; beneath is a subterraneous chapel, where the
bodies, whose names are engraved on the sarcophagi above,
are to repose. The crucifixion of our Saviour, a group in
white marble by John of liologna, with a blessed Virgin by
Michael Angelo, and St John by one of his" pupils, " grace
this dormitory of the dead, and preside over it with appro-
priate majesty. But,

Nescia mens hominum fatl sortisque futurx,

before the magnificent monument intended for their recep-
tion was finished, the Medicean line has failed ; the work
is now suspended ; and, if we may judge from the im-
poverished state of the country, and the agitation of the
times, it is not likely to be resumed for many years, if
ever." The Laurentian library, which is in the convent
annexed to the church, is a collection of valuable manu-
scripts, first formed by Cosmo and Lorenzo di Medicis,
and considerably increased by Leo X. and Clement VII.
Of these, however, several of the most valuable have been
removed to Paris.

In the other churches of Florence, though not deficient
in internal decoration, there is but little to interest the
traveller, except the recollections which the tombs of the
illustrious men, whose ashes they contain, are calculated
to excite. It is indeed impossible to pass by unnoticed
the edifices where repose the remains of a Guicciardini or
Machiavelli ; of a Michael Angelo or Galileo.

The palaces of Florence are remarkable for a style of
architecture peculiar to themselves, to which the long
civil wars in the 13th century between the Guelph and
Ghibelline families first gave rise. The Palazzo Strozzi
and the Palazzo Ricardi, the latter of which was built by
the great Cosmo do Medici, are curious specimens of this
style. They are square, heavy, solid masses, whose
strength is their principal ornament. The walls are thick,
and broken by few windows, and these of a very diminu-
tive size, and the whole basement fortified with large
unhewn masses of stone. The upper stories are faced
with freestone, and the whole is crowned with a very heavy
projecting cornice.

In those palaces, which are the property of private per-
sons, there are many pictures and statues by the best mas-
ters. Of these, the collections in the Ricardi and Gerini
palaces are the most valuable. The Palazzo Vecchio and
Pitti, the residences of the grand dukes, and more lately
of the king of Etruria, were completely stripped of their
pictures and statues by the French, and the only monu-
ments of art that now adorn them are their painted ceil-

ings, which it was impossible for the rapacity of the in-
vaders to remove. But of all the collections of the works
of art, no one has acquired so high a reputation as th»
Medicean gallery. This magnificent building was erected
by Cosmo I. in the year 1564 ; but the greatest part of its
contents were collected in the succeeding century by llie
Cardinal Leopold de Medici, son of Cosmo II. and many
additions were made by tiie princes of Lorraine and
Austria. The busts of the Medicean princes and other
contributors to the gallery adorn the vestibule, and, like
the tutelar deities of the place, seem to claim from the
passing traveller the homage due to their munificence.
The gallery, or corridor, is in the shape of a Greek n, of
which the two wings are each 430 feet in length, and the
intermediate part 97. The paintings and statues in the
gallery are arranged in series of F'lorentine portraits, — of
illustrious foreigners — of painters, Uc. and, the busts of
all the Roman emperors and their families, from Julius
Caesar to Constantine. The corridor is bordered on one
side by a suite of halls or cabinets, each of which is con-
secrated to some set of masterpieces either in sculpture
or painting, or collections of antique and modern medals,
coins, gems, &c. Of the former, however, many of the
most celebrated now grace the galleries of the Louvre,
and the hall of the far-famed Venus de Medici is now a
temple bereft of its divinity. Of those that remain, the
most remarkable is tlie group of Niobe and her children ;
it consists of 16 figures, which are generally consideied as
models of the highest perfection; although it is a subject
of debate among critics, whether this group be a copy, or
the oiiginal, which is ascribed by Pliny the elder to the
chissel of Scopas or Praxiteles.

A minute description, however, of this celebrated col-
lection would exceed our limits; and we must refer our
readers for this and the account of the natural history
museum, to the Museum Florentirium, the Panorama of
Florence, and similar publications.

In 1782, Florence was calculated to contain about 97,000
inhabitants ; if, however, in this, as well as other respects,
it has followed the fate of the other Italian cities, the long
period of misery and war which has since ensued must
have greatly diminished its population.

As early as the 14th century, while the Venetians and
Genoese were contending for superiority in the Levant,
Florence had become poweiful, and its citizens wealthy,
by their attention to commerce. As they were not at that
time, however, possessed of a seaport, their care and at-
tention was principally directed to the improvement of
their manufactures, and objects of domestic industry. It
appears from a contemporary histoiian, that the silks and
cloths of Florence were the chief manufactures in the !4th
century. From their connections they acquired in various
parts of Europe, and their individual wealth, the Floren-
tines were naturally led to banking, and became in this,
as in their zeal for liberty, the successors of the citizens
of the free states of Lombardy. And such was the supe-
riority they acquired, that the n^oney trade of almost all
the kingdoms of Europe fell into their hands ; and in
several states, the collection and administration of the pub-
lic revenues were even confided to their care. The im-
mense fortunes which were acquired in these ways, ena-
bled the Florentines to enter into a still wider range of
commercial exertion : and soon after the conquest of Pisa,
we find Cosmo de Medici endeavouring to obtain for his
countrymen a share in the Indian trade, then carried on
by the Genoese and Venetians. In this he succeeded, by
concluding a treaty with the Suitan of Egypt, by which
they were admitted to an equal share of all the privileges
and immunities enjoyed by the Venetians in Alexandria.

FLORENCE.

103

But ihe commercial greatness of Florence fled with her
Hberty, and with her forsook the fertile pluins and groves
of the Arno, for the less highly fuvoiued vallies of liiilain,
and the frozen shores of tlie Baltic.

The present trade of l'"lorence consists entirely in the
sale of the produclions of her own territory, and her ma-
iiufacturesj f^c. Of the former, the chief are her raw
silks, oil, and wines. Of tlie latter, the most celebrated
is the manufuctiue of silks, which still continue to he
esteemed. These are principally tafl'etas, damasks, and
velvets. There are also manufactured stuffs, mixed with
gold, and silks, satins, and light stuffs, commonly called
Florence taffetas. There are a variety of other manufac-
tures, among which their fine iiorceiain has attained to
high celebrity. The Tuscan porcelain has been intro-
duced with great success into Britain by the late Mr
Wedgewood.

It is difficult to ascertain with certainty the precise era
of the foundation of Florence. It appears to have been a
place used for markets and fairs by the Etruscan inhabi-
tants of the town of Faesulse, (now Fiesole,) whose situa-
tion, on one of the rocky eminences that command the
Vaidarno, was ill adapted for such purposes ; and the first
bouses in Florence were the booths erected for the accom-
modation of traders. Under the government of Sylla, it
became the scat of a Roman colony. The walls of the
new city were first traced out by that dictator, and it is
supposed to have acquired its name from the officer who
had the charge of the settlement of the infant colony.

We find but little mention of it in history during the
period that elapsed from the time of Sylla, till the later
ages of the Roman empire. But there can be no doubt,
that, from the beauty of its situation, and its convenience
for inland commerce, it must have greatly increased in
population and riches. At the time that it was almost
entirely destroyed by Totila, king of the Goths, during
his war with tlie generals of the Emperor Justinian, Flo-
rence abounded in baths, theatres and aqueducts, a sure
indication of the wealth and luxury of its inhabitants.

During the iron sway of the Lombards in Italy it con-
tinued in ruin and obscurity until the end of the eighth
century, when it was rebuilt by Charlemagne, after that
monarch had completely annihilated the Lombard govern-
ment.

Under the feeble princes of the Carlovingian family^
during the anarchy of the reigns of the dukes of Friuli,
and the other petty sovereigns, who successively assum-
ed the title of king of Italy, and the subsequent disputes
between the German emperors and the bishops of Rome,
Florence, like the other cities of Tuscany and Lombaidy,
was gradually acquiiing strength along with the spirit of
liberty and independence.

Exposed to sudden assaults of hordes of Saracens, Bul-
garians, and other barbarous nations, against whom their
powerless lords were unable to assist them, the first step
towards freedom was the right granted them of surround-
ing their city with walls and fortitications. It was not, how-
ever, until the leign cf Otho I. about the middle of the
tenth century, that the people were allowed to elect ma-
gistrates for ihemselvcs, and establish a regular municipal
government. The constitution adopted by the F^loreiitines,
was a deliberative council, or senate of 100 persons; and,
for the execution of justice, consuls who were chosen from
among the most respectable class of citizens. Of these
there were originally four, elected by the four quarters of
the city. When it was increased to six divisions, two new
consuls were also added, who were elected in the same
manner.

In the year 1207, the consuls were deprived of the right

of judging in civil cases, and of pronouncing and execu-
ting criminal sentences, and these duties were assigned to
a magistrate styled a Podesta. It was enacted that this
person shcuild be a foreigner, that no ciliztn might draw
upon himself odium, by the execution of public justice;
while, on the other hand, he might not be deterred by mo-
tives of fear, or family partialities, from doing what was
necessary for the public safety.

Although the I''lorentine government appears to have oc-
casionally taken part in the quarrels between the emperors
and the popes, and especially in that of Otho IV. and In-
nocent III. yet the internal peace of the state remained un-
disturbed. It was not until the year 1215, that a private
quarrel having on a sudden kindled the spirit of party, the
Florentines were engaged in a civil war, which, after con-
tinuing for 33 years with various success, at length termi-
nated in the banishment of the Guelph or Papal party, and
forced the republic to take a decided part in the wars of Ita-
ly. Notwithstanding these long continued dissensions, the
republic seems not to have suffered either in point of po-
pulation or wealth. The annalists of that period talk of the
necessary enlargement of the city, of the erection of public
buildings, of the fortification of castles, with many other
signs of its increase in strength and riches. It was, indeed,
exclusively to such national purposes that the Florentines
applied the fruits of their industry. Their manners and
mode of living were simple to a degree, and all personal pomp
and luxury were strictly repressed by sumptuary laws.

The power of the Ghibelline, or imperial faction, was
but of short duration in Florence. The citizens, harassed
by the tyranny of the nobles, suddenly took up arms in the
year 1250, and having deposed the Podesta, conferred his
authority on an officer styled the captain of the people, to
whom they appointed as a council, 12 magistrates call-
ed Auziani, two of whom were chosen by each quarter of
the city. To this council they gave the name of the Seig-
niory, and each of its members was to remain no longer in
office than two months. The fortresses of the nobles were
demolished, and the materials employed in repairing the
walls of the city ; and a public palace was built for the ac-
commodation of the members of government. On the death
of the Emperor Frederic II. in 1251, the people seized the
opportunity of recalling the banished faction of the Guelphs;
and having forced the chiefs of both parties to si^n a trea-
ty of peace, they added to the captain of the people a Po-
desta of a Guelph family in Milan.

No sooner was the popular government established in
Florence, than the citizens, animatad by the strength they
had acquired, endeavoured to bring over the whole of Tus-
cany to their party. I-'or an account, however, of the wars that
ensued, and the subsequent historyof Florence, as connected
with foreign transactions, we refer our readers to the arti-
cle Italy, confining ourselves at present to a brief sketch
of the internal revolutions of the republic.

In the year 1258, the Giiibellines attempting to regain
their ancient ascendancy, were in their turn, expelled from
Florence, and obliged to take refuge in Sienna. By that
republic they were not only received but protected, not-
withstanding the threats and declaration of war by the Flo-
rentine Seignory. The Giiibellines soon acquired a still
more powerful protector, Manfred, king of Sicily, who, at
the solicitation of F'arinata dcs Uberti, sent to their aid a
small body of German cavalry. On the total defeat of
these by the Florentines, Manfred, irritated at the disgrace,
resolved to take a more active part in the war, and imme-
diately sent 800 cavalry, besides infantry, into the state of
Sienna, under the command of Giordano d'Aiiglone. Alarm-
ed at this new addition of strength to their enemies, the heads
of tlie Guelphs hc^sitated to attack them in the Sienese tcr-

104

FLORENCE

litory. But the people, paii)y iunuenced by their distrust
u( the iiobici,, and p.ully by tlie intrigues oi' two of the
Aiiziani, whom Ubcni had gained over by bribery, insisted
on iiivadiiig Sienna. The I'ioreiiliiie army accordinj^ly took
the field, consistini^ of 3 )00 cavalry and 30,000 infantry,
and a battle was fought on the 4lb- September, 1260, at
Monte Aperto, on tlicbanksof the Arbia, where the Gucipbs
Mere completely defeated, with the lobS of 10.000 killed,
besides an immense uunibcr of prisoners. The conse-
quence of this defeat vvus a second expulsion of the prin-
cipal Guclphs, who, with their families, were, by the or-
ders of the people, exiled from Florence, nine days after
the battle.

At a diet of the Ghibclline states of Tuscany, it was
seriously proposed to destroy completely the city of Flo-
rence, whose growing power and inclination to the oppoiite
faction rendered it so dangerous to its neighbours ; and lliis
proposal meeting with approbation from the 'I'ubcan depu-
ties, was nearly agreed on, had not the firmness and elo-
fjucnce of Farinala des Uberli, whose abilities so much
contributed to the victory, been successful in altering the
opinions of the diet, and preserving the independence of
liis country. For six years the Ghibeliines retained the
sovereignty, by the assistance of a garrison of the king
of Sicily's soldiers, coinmanded by Count (Juido Novella.
The spirit of the people, however, was hostile, and the ty-
rannical administration of Guido did not diminish their
attachment to the pontifical faction.

The defeat of Manfred at Grandellaby Charles of Anjou,
and his subsequent death, raised the spirits of the exiles ;
and Count Guido, alarmed by an insurrection of the people,
having deserted his post, the Gueiphs, aiiled by 800 French
under the command of Guy de Monllort, (^on of tne cele-
brated Earl of Leicester), re-entered Florence on Easter
day 1267, and again expelled their ancient antagonists.
Their whole property was immediately confiscated, and,
after the loss sustained by the Gueiphs was repaired, thrown
into a fund, under the administration of particular magis-
trates destined to provide for the constant maintenance and
increase of the Guelph party. At this period, also, an im-
portant addition was made to the Florentine constitution of
four new councils, without the co-operation of which, the
seignory could not determine on any point of importance.
The first in order was the " Council uf tlie People," con-
sisting of an hundred citizens. Next, but on the same day,
the council " De Credenza" was consulted ; this consisted
cf 80 members, and in it the heads of the seven principal
trades had a right to a seat. From both these councils, the
watchful jealousy of the people excluded all nobles and
Ghibeliines. On the following day, the business was con-
sidered by the council of the Podesta and the general coun-
cil, the former composed of 90 members, indiscriminately
chosen from the nobles and pKbeians, besides tne heads of
the trades, and the latter of 300 citizens of all denomina-
tions. The establishment of these tended greatly to in-
crease the influence of the people. The number of citi-
zens composing them, and their continuing in otFice only
one year, prevented them from having any peculiar inter-
ests independent of their constituents; while the check
they aflbrded on the magistracy was immediate and pow-
erful.

In the year 1279, by the zealous and active interposition
cf the Cardinal Latino, legale and nephew to PopeNicJio-
las in. a peace was concluded between the Gueiphs and
Ghibeliines; to the lutter were restored their fortunes and
estates, and the right of participation in tlie public offices.
At the same time, I in pious endeavours of the Cardinal
were successful in puttmg an end to a family feud between

the Adimari and-Donati, in which a considerable portion of
the people had participated.

In 128'J, the Florentines adopted a new system of go-
vernnu lit, which continued until the downfall of the repub-
lic. This was a new seignory, consisting of six members,
who were styled priors of the- arts and of liberty, one be-
ing chosen from each of the incorporated professions, ex-
cept that of the judges and notaries. These continued in of-
fice only two months ; and, during that time, resided in the
public palace, which they were not allowed to quit. The
council of election consisted of the seignory going out of
of office, with the heads and councils of the piincij)al pro-
fesssions, and certain others chosen by them from the dif-
ferent quarters of the city. No person could be re-elected
in less than two years, and a subsequent law excluded all
noliles or gentlemen, although nominally members of tiie
corporation, from being ever elected priors. This, and the
other laws, tending to destroy the power of the nobles,
wire called the Ordinamtnti delta Giuniizia, and were in-
troduced by Giaiio della Bella, who, though a noble, had
more regard for the general liberties of his country, than
the peculiar interests of his order.

It was not the destiny of Florence to continue long in a
state of tranquillity. New factions arose in a few years,
and the Gueiphs, divided into the two opposite parties of
the Bianchi and Neii, combated among themselves with as
much fury as when opposed to their former political anta-
gonists. These wars were carried on with various suc-
cess, until the Neri, assisted by Charles of Valois, suc-
ceeded in expelling the Bianchi, who where thus forced to
join with the Ghibeliines, their brethren in exile.

The expedition of the emperor Henry of Luxemburg
into Italy in 1310, revived the drooping spirits of the impe-
rial faction, wiiile, from the distinguished part F"iorence
held among his opponents, it gave to that republic a much
higher place in the scale of the Italian states than it had
hitherto held. In fact, after this period, the history of Flo-
rence is so much involved in that of the revolutions of Ita-
ly, that it becomes impossible even to narrate the changes
of its internal policy, without entering largely into the ge-
neral history of the times; and we must therefore close
this article by again referiing our readers to the articles
Italy, Tuscany, Medici, Sec. (e. j.)

FLORIDA, a province in North America, is bounded
on tiie north by Georgia; on the east, by the Atlantic ; on
the south, by the gulf of Mexico ; and on the west, by the
Mississippi. It extends between 500 and 600 miles from
east to west; and little more than 100 from north to south,
except at its eastern peninsula, where the breadtli is nearly
400 miles. It is situated between 26' and 31" of North
Latitude, and between 80° and 92° of West Longitude.
Tliis country was first visited in 1497, by Sebastian Cabot,
a Venetian mariner in the service of Henry VII. of Eng-
la/id; but was more completely discovered by Juan Ponce
de Leon, a native of Spain, in 1512. This navigator giv-
ing credit to an old tradition, that a fountain existed on
the American continent, which had the property of bestow-
ing perpetual youth, fitted out a small squadron, and bent
his cjurse towards the quaiter where these precious waters
were supposed to be concealed. Discovering land on Eas-
ter day, he gave it the name of Florida, from the Spanish
name cf that festival, Pasqua de Fibres ; or, according to
Heirera, from the appearance of the country, which was
covered with flowers, and the most beautiful blossoms,
lie landed on the coast ; and, taking possession of the soil
in the name of his Catholic Majesty, he erected a stone with
an inscription, commemorating his visit. But, having been
prevented by the opposition of the natives from effecting a

FLORIDA.

105

seulemcnt, and being disappointed in the cliicf object of his
expedition, he returned to Puerto Rico. Anotlier voyage
was undertaken, in 1528, by Paniphilo de Narvaez, who
sailed with 400 men irom the island of Cuba ; and, at-
tempting to penetrate into the interior of the country, was
never more heard'of. At length, in the year 1539, it was
entirely subdued by Ferdinand de Soto, one of the bravest
ofhcers in the Spanish service ; but it cost the Spaniards a
long and bloody struggle before they were able to establish
themselves in the country.

In 1564, the French began to form some small settle-
ments on the coast; but they made little improvement of
the natural advantages which the country presented, and
devoted their whole attention to hunting and warlike ex-
cursions. The Spaniards, in the mean time, sent a fleet
against their colony, and put all the settlers to the sword.
A Frenchman, named De Gourges, made severe reprisals
in 1597, demolishing all the forts erected by the Spaniards,
and murdering all tlie colonists whom he found in the coun-
try. From tliis period the French neglected America, and
the Spaniards continued to make petty establishments on
the coLists of Florida.

In 1586, their principal fort, St Augustine, was attacked
by Sir Francis Di-ake, who reduced and pillaged the
place ; and, in 1665, it was entered and plundered by Cap-
tain Davis, at the liead of a body of Buccaneers. In 1702,
Colonel More, Governor of Carolina, attempting to annex
the country to the British dominions, marched a corps
of 500 English and 700 Indians to the walls of St Augus-
tine, and besieged it for the space of three months ; but
the Spaniards, having sent a squadron to the relief of the
garrison, he raised the siege, and made a precipitate re-
treat, just when he was on the point of accomplishing his
enterprize. When a British colony was settled in Georgia,
in 1733, the Spaniards became very apprehensive of a new
attempt upon Fiorida; and, in 1740, an expedition was fit-
ted out against St Augustine by General Oglethorpe. But
the Spanish commander having received intelligence of the
intended attack, made such additions to the strength of the
garrison, and adopted such skilful measures of defence,
that the English were compelled, after sustaining consider-
able loss, to abandon their design. In 1763, Florida was
ceded to Great Britain, in exchange for the Havannah,
which had been taken from Spain ; and, by the encourage-
ment given to agriculture by iis new masters, numbers of
colonists poured into the country from the neighbouring
provinces, the British isles, and all the Protestant nations
of Eui'ope. In the year 1781, it was again recovered by
the Spaniards, and was guaranteed to them by the treaty of
peace of 1783. In their possession it has remained from
that period, and forms one of the three governments which
compose the captainship-u;eneral of the island of Cuba. In
ISIO, a revolution took place in West Florida, disclaiming
the authority of Spain ; but ihe leaders were divided in opi-
nion, whether they should maintain their independence as a
separate state, or accede to the American confederation.
They sent agents to Wasliington, who had an interview
with the President of the United States; and, in the mean
lime, the American government have been prosecutint^ a
claim upon the province since the year 1804, and in 1811
took measures for occupying the western division. Tiiis
claim arose out of a dispute respecting the bound iries of
Louisiana, which Spain had ceded to France in 1801, and
•which the latter power sold soon after to the United States,
for the sum of fifteen millions of dollars. It is contended
by the American government, that West Florida forms a
part of Louisiana, which they purchased from France; and,
on the ground of certain spoliations, alleged to have been
committed by Spain on American commerce, they have

Vol. IX. Part I.

advanced pretensions upon East Florida also, by v.'ay of in-
demnification. These pretensions have been supported by
actual invasion; and there being little probability of a re-
storation or a re-conquest, the whole province may now be
considered as included in the territory of the United States.
East Florida consists of a large peninsula, and a tract of
land, extending from the mouth of the river St Mary west-
ward, to the river Appaiachicola. It lies between 30° 50'
and 25° North Latitude, and between 80° and 85° West
Longitude, extending from east to west from 100 to 190
miles, and from north to south from 100 to 400. West
Florida lies between 67° and 73° West Longitude, and ex-
tends along the north coast of the Mexican Gulf, upwards
of 300 miles from the river Appaiachicola to the lakes
Ponchartrain and Maurepas ; thence along the river Iber-
ville to the Mississippi ; and thence to the 31° North Lati-
tude, from which a line drawn eastward to the river Appa-
iachicola, forms its northern boundary. The sea coast of
both provinces is low, and the country continues very flat
for more than 40 miles inland, when it becomes a little hilly,
interspersed with rocks. Towards the west, the rise is
more gradual, and the surface more woody. The coast is
deeply indented with small gulfs and inlets, and intersected
with numerous rivers. Along the south coast are several
islands, which are included in the province, but which are
of little importance or utility. The most remarkable are
Cat Island, eight miles east of St Louis Bay, above six
miles in length, and bordered with immense quantities of
shells ; Ship Island, about ten miles south of Biloxy Bay,
nine miles long, and two broad; Horn Island, about six
miles fartiier east, very narrow, and about seventeen miles
in length ; Massacre Island, two miles east of the last men-
tioned, also very narrow, but nearly nine miles long ; Dau-
phin Island, five miles farther east, six miles in length, and
about two in breadth ; Rose Island, a long and narrow san-
dy slip, parallel to the coast, between Rose Bay and that of
Pensacola; and the Torlugas, about ten in number, nearly
opposite the most southern point of East Florida, covered
with mangrove bushes, and extending ten or eleven miles
from north-east to south-west. Some of these islands are
mere sand, and none of them produce any thing better than
grass and pines. The principal island in the east coast is
Anastasia, opposite to fhe town of St Augustine, divided
from the mainland by a narrow channel, and twenty-five
miles in length.

The livers, which empty themselves into the Atlantic
ocean, are St Mary's, the common boundary between Flo-
rida and Georgia, about a mile broad at its mouth ; St
John's river, rising in a marsliy tract near the middle of
the peninsula, and flowing gently northward, traverses se-
veral lakes, (the lowest of which, Lake George, is 20 miles
long and 12 broad.) and falls into the sea about 40 miles
south of the St Mary ; and Indian river, which runs from
north to south, and falls into the sea about 60 miles south
of Cape Cannaveral. Most of the rivers which fall into the
Gulf of Mexico, have their source in the province of Geor-
■ gia, and the most worthy of notice are the Appaiachicola,
which divides East from West Florida, and is composed uf
two streams, the Flint and the Chatohuthe, arising in the
Appalachian mountains, and uniting on the confines of Fio-
rida ; the Escambia, the source of which is unknov.-n to Eu-
ropeans, and which empties itself inio the bay of Pensaco-
la ; the Perdido, formerly the boundary between Louisiana
and Florida, and falling into the sea four leagues west of
Pensacola Bay; the Mobile, which has its source in the
country of the Chicasaws, and, for 40 leagues of its course,
is called the Tombeche, and which, after receiving the
Alabama, becomes navigable nearly 120 miles from its
mouth ; the Pascagoula, which is navigable upwards of 150

106

FLOKIDA.

miles, and which fulls iulo Ihe gulf about 16 miles west
from Mobile Hay ; the Pearl River, which originates in the
Chactaw tcnitoiics, and is also navigable upwards of IjO
miles ; and the Hcgolets, which is worthy of notice, cliielly
as issuing from lake Ponchartrain, which is 40 miles long
and 24 broad.

St Augustine, the capital of East I'lorida, and originally
founded by tlie Spaniards, about the year 1580, stands in
290 45' Nortli Lat. on the coast of the Atlantic. It is built
at the neck of a peninsula, in an oblong form, and consists
of four principal streets, which cut each other at right an-
gles. It is fortified with bastions, and surrounded by a
ditch, and is also defended by a castle called Fort St John,
well provided with ordinance. The river St Mark flows
througli the iiarbour, and separates the town from the isl-
and Anastasia. The north and south breakers, at the en-
trance, form two channels, whose bars have eight feet of
water. Pensacola, the capital of West Florida, was regu-
larly laid out by the English in 1765 ; and is about a mile
in length, of an oblong form, lying nearly parallel to the
beach, and defended by a fort, which was built also by the
English in 1775. In consequence of a low and sandy shore,
only small vessels are able to approach the town ; but the
bay affords a commodious harbour to the largest ships,
•which may ride there in perfect security from every wind.
Mobile, situated at the mouth of the river of that name, on
a gently rising bank, is nearly a mile in length, and con-
tains several good houses, which are chiefly built of brick,
■with a regular fortress also of brick, towards the lower end
of the town. There are, besides, numerous forts and set-
tlements, generally in the neighbourhood of Indian villages.
The houses of Europeans are usually of brick, consisting
only of one story, but built on an extensive scale, having
generally three sides inclosing a large square area. The
inorc ordinary haliitalions are formed of a strong cypress
frame, which is filled with brick, and then plastered white,
inside and out ; or sometin)cs lathed, and then covered with
a reddish well-tempered mortar, which gives them the ap-
pearance of brick walls.

The country of Florida, in its general aspect, is flat, san-
dy, and barren, on the sea shore ; but upon advancing in-
land, it becomes very marshy, abounding in natural mea-
dows. Thence it presents a rich and fertile appearance,
especially on the banks of the rivers ; and, for the space of
30 or 40 miles from the coast, there is scarcely to be seen
a single stone weighing more than two or three pounds.
The interior parts are more hilly, and covered with wood ;
bu^ the surface is more stony, and the smaller size of the
trees indicates a decreasing fertility in the soil. The soil
is commonly a white sand, lying on a bed of white clay ; in
some places a dark grey, brown, or black loam, on a foun-
dation of whitish marl, chalk, and testaceous limestone: in
the plains of West Florida, the vegetable mould is often
perfectly black, soapy, and rich, lying on a deep bed of chalk
or shells.

The climate is various, and has been distinguished into
iwo tracts, viz. the northern, which includes the continen-
tal and western part of Florida, and the southern, which
comprehends almost the whole of the peninsula. In the
latter district, the thermometer stands habitually, in sum-
mer, between 84° and 88° of Fahrenheit, in the shade ; and,
during the months of July and August, frequently rises to
94°. In all seasons, the sun is scorching hot at noon ; and,
in winter, it very rarely freezes, nor is the cold ever so se-
vere as to injure even the China orange tree, the fruit of
which is said to be there remarkably delicious. The air is
pure and free from fogs, but the dews are generally exces-
sive. In January, the weather is wet and stormy ; in Feb-
ruary and March, dry and clear ; in July and August, thick,

hot, and sufl'ocating ; but, from tlic end of September to
the end of June, it is altogether inconceivably delightful ;
and then, says Volney, " there is not, perhaps, a finer cli-
mate in the world." The cast side of the peninsula is hot-
ter than the west ; and, towards the southern point of the
west coast, there are, from May to August, frequent sejualls
and tornadoes, but not of long continuance. On the east,
or Atlantic side, the eastern trade wind prevails ; butj on
the west, or towards the Gulf of Mexico, there are cooling
.sea breezes from the north-west, through the whole season
of summer. About the autuinnal equinox, and during the
two or three months following, violent storms and dreadful
hurricanes frequently occur. In the northern climate, the
winds are colder and more variable, the frosts in winter
more severe, the temperature more changeable, and the
fogs more prevalent, so as to occasion mouldiness, rust,
and the deliquescence of salt, sugar, &c. ; yet the town of
St Augustine, where this dampness is very great, but
where there arc no adjoining marshes, is the healthiest
place throughout these latitudes; and many persons from
the Ilavannah resort thither, as to a Montpelier. In both
the tracts of climate, however, particularly in the more nor-
thern, there are great variations from heat to cold, making
often a change of 30° upon the thermometer, in the space
of twelve hours. From the end of June to the middle of
October, the season of the heavy rains, combined with vio-
lent heats, fevers are very common, and are observed to be
most obstinate near the rice and indigo plantations. Per-
sons who drink hard, and sleep in the open air, are very
subject to tetanus; and all intemperate habits are found to
be utterly ruinous to health in these provinces.

The vegetable productions of Florida are particularly de-
serving of notice, both for their wonderful variety and lux-
uriant growth. Nothing can exceed the majestic appear-
ance of its towering forest trees, and the brilliant colours of
its flowering shrubs. The pines, palms, cedars, and ches-
nuts, grow to an extraordinary height and size. The lau-
rels, especially the magnolias, are uncommonly striking ob-
jects, rising with erect trunks to the height of 100 feet,
forming, towards the head, a perfect cone, and having their
dark green foliage silvered over with large milk white
flowers, frequently eight or nine inches in diameter. The
live oaks, after forming a trunk from ten to twenty feet
high, and from twelve to eighteen in circumference, spread
their branches fully fifty paces on every side. The cypress,
generally growing in watery places, has large roots like
buttresses, rising around its lower extremity, then rearing
a stem of eighty or ninety feet, throws out a flat horizontal
top like an umbrella, so tliat often growing in forests all of
an equal height, they present the appearance of a green
canopy supported upon columns in the air. The dog-wood
trees rise to the height of Lwelve feet, then spread their
branches horizontally, which, meeting and interweaving
with others on every side, form a shady grove, so dense
and humid, as completely to exclude the rays of the sun,
and to suppress the growth of any other vegetable, thus
presenting to the traveller a natural shelter, frequently ex-
tending for the space of ten miles without interruption.
But the most beautiful of the forest tribe, is the tapering
carica papaya, which rises to the height of twenty feet, with
a stem perfectly straight, smooth, and silver-coloured, hav-
ing a spherical top of leaves always green, and ornamented
at once with flowers and fruits. Many rich fruits, parti-
cularly limes, prunes, peaches, and figs, grow wild in the fo-
rests ; and grape vines, whose stems are often ten or twelve
inches in diameter, climb around the trunks of the trees to
their very tops, but those which produce the best fruit
creep along close to the ground from one low shrub to ano-
ther. Among the shrubs may be particularly mentioned a

FLORIDA.

107

species of myrica, called the wax tree, which grows to the
height of nine or ten feet, and produces a number of large
round berries, covered with a coat of while wax, which is
formed by the inhabitants into candles, harder and more
lasting than those made of bees wax. Of the numerous
flowering plants, we can only particularize a species of hy-
biscus, wl ich, though a herbaceous plant, renewing its stem
every year, yet grows to the height of ten or twelve feet,
branching regularly in the form of a sharp cone, and is co-
vered with hundreds of large expanded crimson llowcrs,
which blow in succession during the whole of the summer
and autumn months. That singular vegetable prodviction,
generally called the long moss, which is found in most
countries within the tropics, is remarkably prevalent in the
woods of Florida. It grows from the limbs and twigs of
all the trees, and pushing out on all sides its pendant
branches, sometimes fills up, as with a curtain, the spaces
between the arms of large trees, and, at other times, waves
from the lower limbs like streams, to the length of fifteen
or twenty feet. Wherever any part of it fixes upon the
bark, it presently takes root as readily as if it had sprung
from the seed. When fresh, it is eaten by the cattle and
deer in the winter season ; and when properly dried, it is
found to answer better than any other substance for stuff-
ing matrasses, chairs, saddles, &c. When steeped, dried,
and beaten like hemp, it leaves a hard, black, elastic fila-
ment resembling horse hair, which the Spaniards in Soutli
America work into cables, that are said to be very strong
and durable. In the marshes and banks of the lakes and
rivers, the reeds and rushes grow to an extraordinary size,
some of the former being actually 30 or 40 feet high, and
being used as masts to the canoes ; but among the aquatic
plants, the Pistia stratiotes is particularly worthy of notice.
It resembles a well-grown stock ol garden lettuce, and ve-
getates from seed on the surface of stagnant water ; but,
associating in large quantities, it forms floating islands,
which, though first produced close to the shore, are some-
times carried by the wind or current into the river, where
they are nourished by long fibrous roots descending to the
muddy bottom ; and then extend themselves like a green
plain, several miles in length, and a quarter of a mile in
breadth, furnishing a habitation to crocodiles, frogs, otters,
herons, curlews, kc.

The principal vegetable productions rcgulaily cultivat-
ed for the subsis|tence of the inhabitants, are corn, pulse,
particularly beans, potatoes, pompions, melons, rice, and
a variety of esculent roots, particularly a species of arum,
which is much cultivated in the maritime districts, and
has a large turnip-like root, resembling when boiled or
roasted the taste of the yam. Tobacco, cotton, and in-
digo, are raised in considerable quantities ; and the last
mentioned article, made in East Florida, is accounted
equal to the best Spanish produce. Among the mineral
productions of this province are found several kinds of
precious stones, amethysts, turquoises, and lapis lazuli.
Ochre, pit-coal, and especially rich iron ore, are very
abundant. Near to New Smyrna, a thriving settlement on
the Musquito river, is a vast hot mineral spring, issuing
from a high ridge on the bank of the river, with great force,
and in such abundance as to fill a circular basin, capacious
enough for several shallops to ride in it. The water is of
a sulphureous nature, and covers every inanimate sub-
stance deposited in it, with a pale bluish coagulum ; but
it is remarkably diaphanous, and the numerous fishes,
which subsist in this tepid stream, arc seen at a consider-
able depth with the greatest distinctness.

Tiie country is stored with creatures fit for the >ise of
mar), without producing many that are very formidable,
either from their ferocity or strength. There are rabbits,

squirrels of several species, (some oi whith ate remarka-
bly beautiful), racoons and opossums, which are accounted
very delicious food ; herds of deer and horned cattle,
which are large and fat, but subject to extensive ulcera-
tions in their thighs and haunches, supposed to be occa-
sioned by their standing during the heats of summer, in
the lakes and rivers, feeding on the water-grass ; and
horses, running wild, as well as kejjt in herds by the
natives. Tliey are extremely beautiful and si)rightly ; but
of a small breed, and almost as slender in their form as the
American roe-buck. Of the wilder tribes, tlicre are the
weasel, polecat, and lynx, which last is a very fierce little
creature, preying upon young pigs, fawns and turkeys;
foxes, of the small red species, which bark during the
night, but move so precipitately, that they arc seldom
heard twice in the same spot ; wolves of different colours,
larger than a dog, generally assembling in companies, par-
ticularly during the night-time ; bears, in considerable
numbers, and of great strength, but scarcely ever known
to attack human beings. When fat and full grown, they
weigh from 500 to 600 pounds weight ; and their flesh is
greatly esteemed as food by the natives. Of birds, be-
sides many which are migratory, there arc found station-
ary in Florida, vultures, hawks, rooks, jays, parrots, wood-
peckers, pigeons, turkeys, herons, cranes, curlews, cor-
morants, pelicans, plovers. Sec. A few of the more remar-
kable are the snake bird, a species of cormorant of great
beauty, which delight to sit in peaceable communities, on
the dry limbs of trees, hanging over the lakes, with their
wings and tail expanded, as if cooling themselves in the
air ; and, when alarmed, they drop as if dead into the
water, suddenly appearing again on the surface, at a great
distance from the spot where they first sunk, but shewing
only their long slender head and neck above the water,
which gives them very much the appearance of a snake.
The crying bird, a species of pelican, about the size of a
large domestic hen, and' of a speckled colour, with a short
tail, having the longest feather in the middle, and the two
outermost perfectly white, which the bird is accustomed,
whenever he is disturbed, to flirt out on each side with the
quickness of lightning, uttering at the same time a very
harsh and loud shriek. The ivood fielican, a large bird,
nearly three feet high when standing erect, feeding on ser-
pents, frogs, and other reptiles, is generally seen solitary
on the banks of the marshes and rivers, with his neck
drawn in upon his shoulders, and his long crooked beak
resting like a scythe upon his breast; this bird is suppos-
ed to approach the nearest to the Egyptian ibis. The
painted -vulture, of a white or cream colour, except the
quill feathers of the wings, and the tip of the large tail
feathers, which are of a dark brown or black, is seldom
seen, unless when the deserts are set on fire, which some-
times happens from lightning, and is more regularly done
by the Indians, to rouse the game ; and then they gather
from every quarter tov/ards the turning plains, and alight-
ing among the smoking embers, gorge their immense
craws with roasted serpents, frogs, and lizards. The
Creeks form their national standard with the tail-feathers
of this bird, preserving them in their natural white
colour, in peaceable negociations, but drawing a zone of
red beneath the brown tips when they go to battle. The
great savannab crane, a very stately bird, about six feet in
length from the toes to the extremity of the beak when
extended, nearly five feet when standing erect, and eight
or nine feet between the extremities of the expanded
wings : they fly in detached squadrons, all rising and fall-
ing as one bird, and while they move their wings in flight
with slow and regular strokes, the shafts and webs of their
quill-feathers may be heard at a considerable distance in

108

FLORIDA.

tlie air, creaking like Ihe worliiiiy oi a vessel in a tem-
pestuous sea.

The coasts, sounds, and inlets, abound in excellent fish ;
and the inland lakes and rivers are, in some places, actually
crowded with the iinny tribe. Ol' these, the more remark-
able are, the great brown spotted gurr, from five to six
feet in length when ftdly grown, whose impenetrable skin
resembles a coat of mail, of which the scales arc so sharp
and strong, that the Indians use them as points to their
arrows. The wurfyfs/j, about two feet long, the flesh of
which is white and tender, but rather soft, and not nmch
esteemed. The golden bream, or sunjinh, about eight
inches in length, resembliiig the trout in shape, remarka-
bly strong and rapacious for his size, and very delicious
as food ; the silver or white bream, and the black or blue
bream, which are also extremely beautiful and abundant;
the cat-fish, stingray, scale, floundei', spotted bass, sheeps-
head, drum, kc. and many other varieties, are found every
where, even in the smaller ponds and open holes, in the
utmost abundance. This multitude of fishes furnishes
subsistence to an equally numerous brood of alligators,
which are seen in all the rivers and lakes, in immense
bodies, many of them more than 20 feet in length. A
prodigious assemblage of them in the river St John, was
witnessed by Mr Bartraui pursuing the vast shoals of fish
with which that river abounds ; and his description of the
scene will best convey an idea of their numbers, as well
as of the prolific nature of the waters in Florida. " The
river in this place from shore to shore, and perhaps near
half a mile above and below me, api)eared to be one solid
bank of fish of various kinds, pusiiing through this narrow
pass of St John's into the little lake, on their return down
the river ; and the alligators were in such incredible num-
bers, and so close together from shore to shore, that it
would have been easy to have walked across on their
heads, had the animals been harmless. What expres-
sions can sufticiently declare the shockiiig scene that for
some minutes continued, whilbt this mighty army of fish
were forcing the pass ! During this attempt, thousands, I
may say hundreds of thousands of them, were caught and
swallowed by the devouring alligators. I have seen an
alligator take up out of the water several great fish at a
time, and just squeeze them betwixt his jaws, while the
tails of the great trout flapped aliout his eyes and lips ere
he had swallowed them. The horrid noise of their clos-
ing jaws, their plunging amidst the broken banks of fish,
and rising with their prey some feet upright above the
water, the floods of water and blood rushing out of their
mouths, and the clouds of vapour issuing fiom their wide
nostrils, were truly frightful." Here may be mentioned,
as belonging to the same genus vfith the alligator, the
lizards of Florida, of which there are several species : the
little green chamelion, about seven inches long, and very
harmless ; the striped lizard, called scorpions by the
Americans, covered with small scales, vibrating their tail,
and darting out their forked tongue when pursuing their
prey ; a small blue lizard, remarkably swift, with a long
slender tail, which is subject to be broken off like that of
the glass snake. There are several kinds of tortoises in
the rivers and lakes, of which the most deserving of notice
is the great soft shelled tortoise, some of which, when lull
grown, weigh from 30 to 40 pounds, extremely fat and
delicious, and resembling very much in form and ap-
pearance the sea turtle. The whole back shell, except
the vertebra and ribs, is cartilaginous, and easily reduced
{0 a jelly wlien boiled. These creatures bury themselves
in the slushy bottoms of rivers and ponds, under the roots
of aquatic plants, leaving an aperture just sufficient for the
head to play through, for the purpose of seizing their prey,

which they do with great rapidity, and frequently drag even
the young water fowl from the surface. There is also the
great land tortoise, called gopher, found only on the dry
sanil hills, of a light clay colour, and not easily distinguish-
ed from a stone. The upper shell, about 18 inches long
and 12 broad, is exceedingly hard ; and the animal on level
ground, can easily carry a man standing on its back.

Ol frogs there are various kinds, the largest of which
is about 8 or 9 inches in length from the nose to the ex-
tremity of the toes, and has a loud hideous voice, inferior
indeed to the bull frog of Virginia, but greatly resembling
the grunt of a hog. Of the smaller kind, there are the
bell frog, the voice of which is similar to the sound of a
cow bell ; another species of a beautiful green colour,
which utter a noise like the yelping of young dogs ; a still
smaller tribe which infest the houses, whose voice is like
tiiat of young chickens ; and an extremely diminutive
class, called Savanna crickets, which may be seen in the
rainy season clambering like spiders upon the tall grass.
There are red and black toads, the former of which arc
very large, weighing upwards of a pound, but no way
venomous.

There arc numerous kinds of snakes in Florida, but
little different from those which are found in the other
sotithern provinces of the United States. The largest is
the rattle-snake, which is commonly from lour to six feet
in length, and sometimes even eight or ten. With a single
scratch of one of his fangs, he is able to kill the largest
animal, but is never known to strike unless first assaulted ;
nor can he creep faster than a man may walk, and may
easily be killed with a single blow on the head or back,
fiom a stick not thicker than a man's thumb. There are
also the moccasin snake, which abounds in East Fioriila,
large as the rattle-snake, and said to be more formidable
by being more apt to bite ; the bastard, or ground rattle-
snake, of small size, but extremely fierce and venomous ;
thL- green snake, a beautiful and harmless creature, about
two or three feet in length, but not thicker than a man'*
little finger ; the rib/^and snake, of a clear vermilion colour,
variegated with transverse zones of dark brjwn, very in-
offensive, and generally found about old buildings ; the
chicken snake, very strong and swift, about six feet in
length, but scarcely so thick as a man's wrist, a domestic
kind of creature, innocent as a worm, easily tamed, and
capable of being made useful for destroying rats, but apt
at the same time to prey upon chickens ; the bull snake,
as long as the rattle-snake, uttering when irritated a loud
hissing noise, but completely inofiensive with respect to
mankind ; the coach luhiji snake, a beautiful and harmless
creature, about six feet in length, but slender as a com-
mon walking stick, and tapering from the abdomen towards
the tail like a switch, or long whip, remarkably swift, seem-
ing at times to fly along the surface of the ground, touch-
ing it only with its lower extremity ; the glass snake, of a
bluish green colour, about two feet and a half in length,
with a short belly, and great length of tail, which is so
extremely fragile, that it breaks like glass by a gentle
stroke of a light switch.

Incredible numbers of the small insects, called ephc-
mtrae, cover the surface of the lakes and rivers, supply-
ing abundant food for the birds, frogs, anri fishes ; and
clouds of beautiful butterflies hover among the shrubs and
flowers. Various flies of a more hostile character, harass
the traveller and his horse in the hotter seasons ; and par-
ticularly one species called the burning fly, of a splendid
green colour, and golden head, which stings like the prick'
of a red hot needle, or a spark of fire on the skin. Gnats
and jnusi/iiitoes also are extremely frequent and trouble-
some, especially on the sea coast, and in the rice and in-

FLO

FLU

109

digo plantations ; but they are saki to disap|>ear in propor-
tion as the land is cultivated. There are said to be no hces
in West Florida ; but in the east province they arc suffi-
ciently numerous.

When Florida came into the possession of Great Britain,
the greatest encouragement was given to settlers ; and at
first considerable additions were made to its European in-
habitants. But their increase was cxtrenitly slow, not-
withstanding the salubrity of the climate, and the advan-
tages offered by government to the planters; and, since
the coui.try was recovered by the Spaniards, its population
and improvement are very imperfectly knovvn. The whole
of the wliite population is calculated by Volney not to ex-
ceed 40,000 ; and the amount of the Indian tribes residing
within lis territories cannot be ascertained with any degree
of accuiacy. Parties of the Chactaws and Chicasaws are
occasionally seen in the more western districts, between the
river Mobile and the IVFississippi ; but the more regular oc-
cupants of the interior are the Muskogees or Muscogul-
ges, generally called the Confederated Creeks, on account
of the rivulets and swamps with which their territory
abounds. Their principal settlements are situated between
the branches of the river Mobile and those of the Appa-
lachicola, particularly on the borders of the Coussa and
Falpoose. These are generally distinguished by the name
of Upper Creeks; and, in 1771, were supposed to number
3500 warriors ; but, as their country is connected rather
with the province of Georgia, we have already referred
-to that article for a fuller acctnmt of their character and
manners. That part of the same nation who inhabit the
Floridas, are called the Lower Creeks, or Siminoles. Di-
recting their course to the south in quest of a more plen-
tiful country, they completely extirpated the Yamasces,
who were then in prissession of these fruitful regions, and
in close alliance with the Spaniards, and now form one
people with the remains of the tribes who were in alliance
Avith the conquered race. There are found, particularly in
East Florida, numerous monuments of apparent antiquity,
with the nature of whicii none of the present Indians seem
to have much acquaintance ; and which, tlierefore, render
it highly probable that the country was foi-merly occupied
by a people more civilized and skilled in the arts of life
than the Yamasees, Creeks, or any of the modern American
tribes, known to Europeans. These are pyramidal hills or
artificial mounts, erected near the sites of ancient towns,
so as to command an extensive prospect of the adjacent
country, aryd conjectured to have been intended as watch
towers, or places for sacrifice; vast tetragon terraces ad-
joining to these mounts, supposed to have been the foun-
dations of fortresses ; oblong sunken areas surrounded by
a bank, sometimes by two, one behind the other, more ele-
▼aled than the first, resembling amphitheatres for the ex-
hibitions of games or shows, and generally appropriated
by the modern Indians to the execution of their captives;
artificial lakes or ponds, to which spacious avenues run
from the mounts. These ancient remains were seen by
B.irtram on the east shore of St. John's River, at the en-
trance of the great Lake George, on the opposite shore,
on the bank of the Little Lake, on Dunn's Isi nid, a little
below Charlotteville, and on the west banks of the Mus-
quitoe River, near New Smyrna. The Siminoies, who now
inhabit these countries, are a mere handful of people, and
range at liberty over the richest plains of both provinces.
They find, in the spontaneous productions of the soil, and
in the abundance of game which the forests afford, a su-
perfluity of subsistence ; and secured in the midst of their
swamps from any sudden attack of hostile tribes, they have
nothing to occasion their disquietude, but the gradual en-
croachments of the White people. Tiiey are remarkably

joyous and volatile in their dispositions ; and nothing can
be more expressive of lightness of heart than their whole
visage, deportment, and motions. They are fond of gam-
bling, and spiritous liquors; and amuse themselves, like
chiltlren, in endeavouring, by the most extravagant stories,
to excite surprise and laugliter. They are the most active
and expert hunters, and by the sale of deer, bear, tiger and
wolf-skins, honey, wax, horses. Sec. they procure their
clothing and domestic utensils from the White settlers.
They are, however, treacherous and unsteady, and being
far removed from the controul of the upper Creeks, with
whom they are confederated, and whose government is
more regular, they are apt to pay little regard to treaties
of amity with the Whites, and to commit murders and
depredations on detached families who fall into their hands.
See Modern Univ. Hist. vol. xxxix. ; Robertson's Hint, of
jimerica, vol. ii. ; Bartram's Travels in Carolina., Georifia,
and Florida ; Volney's jiccount of the United States ; Ber-
nard Roman's Concise JVatural and Moral Hist, of East
and West Florida, published at New York in 1776, a very
scarce but highly interesting production; and Hutchin's
American Geografi/iij. (^g)

FLORIS, Flores, or En'de, is the name of a large
island in the eastern seas, situated to the east of Java, be-
tween the 120th and 123d degrees of East Longitude, and
the 8th and 9th degrees of South Latitude. It is about
200 miles lona;, and has an average breadth of 36 miles.
The interior of this island is very imperfectly known. The
inland parts are mountainous and woody, and it contains a
burning mountain of considerable height. Towards the
sea coast, the country is fine and open. The principal
place frequented by the English in passing through the
straits of Floris, is the village of Larantouca, upon the
island of Floris. Refreshments for two or three ships can
be obtained here, such as goats, hogs, fowls, and fruits,
buffaloes, and some turtle, and water. In return for these,
the natives will receive gun-powder, musket balls, glass
bottles, wine glasses, white linen cloth, and all kinds of
coarse cutlery. Benzoin, ambergris, and small quantities
of wax, are exported from the island, and sandal wood in
small quantities may also be obtained. Many of the na-
tives profess Christianity, and they generally hoist the
Portuguese flag. The Burman language prevails over the
greatest part of the island. Tiie Portuguese visited this
island at a very early period, and gave it the name of Floris ;
but there is no reason to believe that they ever established
a regular settlement. See Milburn's Oriental Comtnerce,
vol. ii. p. 385 ; and Hamilton's East India Gazetteer, (w)

FLUENTS. See Fluxions.

FLUIDS. See Chemistry and Hydrodynamics.

FLUSHING, Vlissengen, or Flessikgue, is the name
of a seaport tovvn of Holland, situate^l in the island of Wai-
cheren, on the north side of a branch of the river Scheldt.
The port lies between two moles, that break the waves of
the sea, which enters the town by means of two canals,
forming two basons. This town defends the passage of
the Scheldt and of all the islands of Zealand. The Stadt-
house, which is built in imitation of that of Amsterdam,
is a magnificent building. The position of the town, ac-
cording- to trigonometrical observations is 3° 34' 57" West
Long, and North Lat. 5 1° 26' 42". See Walcheren.

FLUTE Sror, in Music, is a range of pipes in an or.^an,
so called, because the tone of them resembles the English
flute or flagiolet. Their pitch is an octave higher than the
diapasons, or in unison with the principal stop, but whose,
sounds are less soft and pleasing than those of the flute-
stop. (?)

FLUTTER, in Music, is a phenomenon attending the
sounding of a regular discord, made by two notes thai ofa

FLU

diatonically related otherwise than as a concord, as |, ^'^j
i> -ffi tI' ^'^- ^Bf°'*^ ''^^ completion of tlie Rev. Mr Lis-
ton's EuHAKMONic Organ, (see that article,) it was very
flifficult to so exactly adjust or tune discordant intervals,
lliat this peculiar effect, very different from the beats ac-

companying imperfect concords could be heard ; and Dr
Robert Smith, who gave them this name, was perhaps the
first person who experimented on, and investij^ated the
theory of, tliese flutterin^j roughnesses of the discords
when truly tuned. See his Harmonica, 2d edit. p. 97, (g)

FLUXIONS.

The invention of the Mcl/wd of Fluxions, as it is called
in this country, or the Differential and Integral Calculus,
■i.% it is called by foreitrn mathematicians, goes no further
back than the 17th century; but the inquiries wliich have
led to it, must have occurred to Geometers from the earliest
period at which the science of geometry was cultivated.
It appears from the writings of Euclid and Archimedes,
that when the ancients considered curvilineal spaces, or the
solids formed by the rotation of curves, they established
the truth of their propositions by a peculiar mode of de-
monstration, which was indirect, and more subtile and pro-
lix than was used in ordinary cases. The second proposi-
tion of the xii. book of Euclid's Elements, is an instance
of this kind of demonstration. It is there proposed to
prove, that circles have to each other the ratio of the
squares of their diameters. The preceding proposition
proves, that similar polygons inscribed in the circles, have
to each other that ratio ; and hence, by a mode of reasoning
rather artificial, although quite accurate, the truth of the
proposition is proved to extend to the circles themselves,
by shewing, that the square of the one diameter cannot be
to the square of the other diameter, as the one circle to a
space either less, or greater than the other circle.

Although the ancients chose this mode of demonstrating
the truth of such propositions, yet it may well be supposed,
that they discovered them at first by a more simple mode
of reasoning. In the instance we have quoted, as the ratio
of similar polygons inscribed in the circles is altogether
independent of the number of sides ; and as the greater the
number of sides, the polygons became more nearly equal
to the circles, from which at last they may differ by less than
any assignable quantity, it is easy thence to infer the truth of
the proposition. Here, however, there is a transition from
a polygon of a finite number of sides to the circle, which
is tacitly regarded as a polygon of an infinite number of
sides : now this is the very circumstance, which in the end
led to the invention of the method of fluxions.

When, after a long period of darkness, the light of
science again shone forth in Europe, and the writings of
Euclid and Archimedes were studied, with a view to detect
the principles which had led to the discovery of the truths
which they contain, it was soon observed, that these Geo-
meters had been more careful to convince, than enlighten
their cotemporaries ; and that however well the synthetic
mode of demonstration was adapted, to place the truth of
a proposition beyond doubt, yet it afforded little aid as an
instrument of discovery. It was no doubt this view of the
ancient geometry that induced Cavalerius to depart from
its rigour, and invent his Method of Indivisibles, in which
he considered lines as composed of an infinite number of
points ; surfaces as composed of an infinite number of
lines ; and solids as made up of an infinite number of sur-
faces. He appears to have possessed his theory in the year
1629, and he published it in 1635 with this title, Geomctria
indivisibilium continuorum no-vd cjuddam rationc firomota.
The accuracy of his method was attacked by Guildinus
in 1640, and then he shewed, that at bottom it was the an-
cient theory of Exhaustions, but divested of its prolixity.
In fact, these surfaces and lines, of which Cavalerius con-

sidered the ratios and the sums, are no other than the little
solids, or the inscribed and circumscribed parallelograms
of Archimedes, so numerous, as to differ from the figure,
which is included between them, by less than any given
quantity ; but while Archimedes, when he demonstrates the
ratio of a curvilineal figure to another known one, employs
many words, and an indirect turn of demonstration ; the
modern geometer, launching as it were into infinity, lays
hold in imagination of the last teim of these continued
divisions and subdivisions, which should in the end annihi-
late the difference between the circumscribing and in-
scribed figures, aiul the curvilineal figure which they limit.

Roberval, in France, opened to himself the same career
of discovery as Cavalerius had done in Italy. He began
by studying the writings of Archimedes ; and his method
of resolving problems, relating to curvilineal areas, differs
from that of Cavalerius, only in its terms. His ambition
to obtain a triumph over his rivals, induced him to conceal
his discoveries, tintil he was anticipated by Cavalerius's
book, and thus justly punished for his selfishness. He
found a method of determining the tangents of curves,
which, however, was inferior to another discovered by
Descartes : Roberval's methed, in many cases, only sub-
stitutes one difficulty for another, but Descartes applies to
all algebraic curves, and in every case accomplishes the
desired purpose.

The obligations which philosophy and mathematics lie
under to Descartes, have been generally acknowledged ;
but there is a feature in his character which gives him a
higher claim than any other geometer of his time to the
gratitude of posterity, and that is, his eagerness to dis-
seminate the knowledge of science, as well as to extend
its boundaries. Instead of hoarding his discoveries, or
concealing their source, as others had done by tedious syn-
thetic demonstrations in the manner of the ancients, he
gave them with that clearness and simplicity which ought
always to characterize the style of works on science.

Fermat possessed earlier than Descartes a method of
tangents. But he only published it after Descartes had
made his known, and he joined to it a method de maximis
et minimis. These are more simple than Descartes' me-
thods, but their author, far from imitating the frankness of
this philosopher, only in a manner indicated them, conceal-
ing, at least in the case of the method de maximis et minimis,
his analysis, and the mode of demonstration. By a multi-
tude of discoveries, several of which, relative to numbers,
have exercised the most celebrated analysts of this and the
preceding age, Fermat gave proofs of a great genius. He
has been considered as equal to Descartes, but the latter
philosopher probably contributed more to the propagation
of science, by his communicative character, and the simple
manner in which he has presented his researches.

Huygens first demonstrated Fermai's two rules. Slus-
sius afterwards found a simple method of drawing tangents,
which at bottom was but the enunciation of tne calculus re-
quired by Fermat's method ; but disengaged from whatever
was useless : and lastly, Barrow contrived his chai-acteris-
tic triangle, which in fact is the same as the triangle that
measures the fluxions of the abscissa, the ordinate, and

FLUXIONS.

curve; and thus the method of fiiidhig the tangents of al-
gebraic curves attained its last degree of simplicity.

While these improvements in the theory of tangents
were going on, Gregory deS. Vincent, Roberval, and Pas-
cal, made some progress towards a general solution of the
problem of quadratures. This, however, was done by the
method of the ancients, and that of indivisibles, and so does
not bear directly on the history of the fluxional calculus, if
we except the consideration of polygons afsca/cs of Gregory
dc S. Vincent, or of a series of rectangles inscribed in, and
circumscribed about a curve, which may have suggested the
application of tlie fluxional calculus to ([uadratures.

It is in the arithmetic of infinites of Wallis, that we see
the first application of algebraic calculation to tjuadratures,
and this was founded on the method of indivisibles. Wallis
considered series, and sought to express their sum by their
first and last terms. lie thus succeeded in finding the sum
when the number of terms was infinite, and the last term
may be reckoned as nothing. Considering, then, surfaces
as formed of a series of lines, the terms of which follow
a certain lav/, he found the expression for the surface by
summing the series. The area of a triangle, for example,
was determined by summing an aritiimetical progression.

Wallis demonstrated, by his method, the fundamental
rule for the quadrature of curves, tlie ordinate of which
is proportional to any power whatever of the abscissa. This
enabled him to square any curve, having its ordinate ex-
pressea by a series of nominals. His method of interpo-
lation, by which the area of a curve was found, when its
equation was in a manner comprehended between the equa-
tions of two other curves, to which his first method was
applicable, deserves particular attention, because it was
the germ of Newton's most beautiful discoveries, and is at
present the most important part of the theory of series.
This method led him to a remarkable expression for the
area of a circle. Wallis must be allowed to have con-
tributed greatly to the progress of analysis, both by his own
discoveries, and his having introduced the doctrine of series,
■which led to all the great discoveries of that period.

Neil and Van-Heuraet gave the first example of a curve
that may be rectified, (one of the cubic parabolas.) Van-
Heuraet's method reduced the problem of rectijicalioyis to
that of guadnuures. Brouncker and Mercator, proceeding
in the path of Wallis's discoveries, found the first series
known for the reclification of the circle, and hyperbola.
Brouncker also first noticed continued fractions; and he
shewed that the fundamental principle employed by Neil
in the rectification of curves, and that by which Mercator
squared the hyperbola, were to be found in the works of
Wallis.

Mercator published his Logarithmotechnia in September
1668, which contained his quadrature of the hyperbola;
and soon after the book came out, Mr Collins, secretary to
the Royal Society, sent a copy to Barrow, at Cambridge,
who put it into the hands of Sir Isaac, then Mr Newton,
and a fellow of Trinity College. Presently afterwards, viz.
in July 1669, Barrow wrote to Collins, that a friend of his
(Newton,) who had an excellent genius to these things,
had brought him some papers, wherein he had set down
methods of calculating the dimensions of magnitudes, like
that of Mr Mercator for the hyperbola, but very general ;
as also of resolving equations: Barrow afterwards sent
these papers to Collins, saying, that he presumed he would
be much pleased with them, and requesting him to shew
them to Lord Broimcker. Their title was JDe ayialysi per
£quationes numero terminorum vifinitas. In this manu-
script, the method of fluxions was first indicated, and rules
deduced from it given for the quadrature of curves,
to which it was observed, their rectification, and the deter-

mination of the quantity and the superficies of solids, and
of the centre of gravity, may be all reduced: moreover,
the author there asserted, that he knew no problems rela-
ting to the (juadralure or rectification of curves, to which
his method would not apply ; and that by means of it, he
could draw tangents to mechanical curves ; so there can
be no doubt, but that then Newton possessed the method of
fluxions, and therefore he must be reckoned the Jirst inven-
tor. Indeed it appears that although his discovery was pro-
mulgated then for the first time, he had been in possession
of it from about the year 1666, which was two years before
Mercator published his quadrature of the hyperbola. And
although the MS. memoir De analysi jier (equalioncs., &c.
professes to explain the method briefly, rather than to de-
monstrate it accurately, yet there was enough to shew, that
the author was aware of its great importance as an instru-
ment of investigation, and that he had reduced it in some
measure to the form of an analytical theory.

Barrow, Collins, and Oldenburg, (anotlicr Secretary to
the Royal Society,) disseminated the analytical discoveries
of Newton by their correspondence, and communicated
them to several geometers on the continent, such as Slus-
sius, and Borelli.

In the year 1 672, the celebrated Leibnitz, who afterwards
also claimed the honour of the discovery of the method of
fluxions, appeared for the first time upon the scene. Hap-
pening to be in London, he communicated to some mem-
bers of the Royal Society, certain researches relating to the
differences of numbers; but he was given to understand,
that this subject had been already treated by Mouton, an'
astronomer of Lyons : upon this, he turned his attention to
the doctrine of infinite series, which, at that time, engaged
all the mathematicians ; and, in 1674, he announced to Ol-
denburg, that he possessed important theoreins relative to
the quadrature of the circle by series; and that he had
very general analytic methods. Oldenburg, in answer, in-
timated to him, that Gregory and Nevi'ton had also found
methods, which gave the quadrature of curves, whether
they were geometrical or mechanical, and which extend-
ed to the circle.

The first direct communication which Newton had with
Leibnitz, was in 1676. On the 13th June, in that year.
Newton sent a letter to Oldenlnirg, which was to be shewn
to Leibnitz : This contained his celebrated binomial theo-
rem, which he appears to have known in 1669 ; and a vari-
ety of other matters relating to infinite series, and quadra-
tures, but nothing directly relating to the theory of fluxions:
and itis worthy of remark, that in this letter, Newton speaks
of Leibnitz with great respect ; so that the suspicion which
afterwards arose in his mind, that Leibnitz was not dealing
fairly with him in respect of his discoveries, does not ap-
pear to have then existed. In a second letter from New-
ton to Oldenburg, to be also communicated to Leibnitz, he
still speaks of his rival wi.th respect; and he here, in compli-
ance with a wish expressed by Leibnitz, explains the man-
ner in which he found the binomial theorem. He also de-
scribes the properties of his method of fluxions, as well for
the determination of tangents, as the quadrature of curves;
but he conceals it under an anagram of transposed letters.
Here we have positive evidence that Newton was now in
possession of his calculus.

On the 21st June 1677, Leibnitz sent to Oldenburg, to be
communicated to Newton, a letter containing the first at-
tempts at a method wdiich applied to every thing that could
be done by that of Newton. This was his Differential Cal-
culus. The death of Oldenburg, which soon followed,
put an end to this epistolary correspondence ; and seven
years afterwards, viz. in 1684, Leibnitz published his me-
thod in the Leipsic .A.cts for October of that year, with this

112

FLUXIONS.

lille, " JVova Mcthodus firo maximis f ' minimis, itemque
tangentibus, que 7iec fructas, vec irralionalcs cjuanlilatca
moratur ct siugtitnre firo illis calculua genus." Thus, in
vliatever way Lcibiiilz came by liis calculus ; whether he
fonntl it by the power of his own genius, which was cer-
tainly very great, or availed himself of Newton's discove-
ly, which iiad in some measure transpired by his manu-
script memoir, " /Jr a7ialysi fur cquationcs numero icrmi-
novum infinitas," having been made known to many mathc-
malicians, although not printed ; certain it is, that his me-
thod was first given to the world ; for Newton's method of
fluxions only became generally known by the publication
of liis Princi/iia, in the end of the year 1686.

Leibnitz enjoyed, without contradiction, the honour of
being the inventor of his calculus, until the year 1699 ;
and even Newton himself, in the first edition of his Prin-
ci/iia, where he had occasion to give an example of his me-
thod of fluxions, allowed to Leibnitz the merit of his inven-
tion : For he says, " In the course of a correspondence,
which ten years ago I carried on with the very learned
geometrician Mr Leibnitz, having intimated to him that I
possessed a method of determining inaxi?na and minima,
of drawing tangents, and resolving such problems, not
only when the equations arc rational, but also when tliey
are irrational; and having concealed this method by trans-
posing the letters of the following sentence, ^n equation
being given, containing a7iy number cf Jlowing quantities, to
find their fiuxions, and the contrary, this'celcbi-ated man
answered, that he had found a similar method, which he
communicated to me; and which difl'ercd from mine only
in the enunciation, and in the notation." To this, in the
edition of 1714, was added, "and in the nianner of con-
ceiving the quantities to be generated."

It has been supposed that the claim of Leibnitz to the
discovery would not have been called in question, if he
had been just towards Newton: but in this respect he fail-
ed, and hence the origin of that quarrel which was carried
on with such animosity between the British and foreign
mathematicians. In some letters which he had written to
persons in Britain, he had appeared to attribute to himself
too exclusively the invenlion of his calculus, and this drew
upon him some pointed remarks, respeciing the prior
claims of Newton. At length, a mathematician named
Fatio de Duillier, who is said to have entertained a dislike
to Leibnitz, on account of his having omitted to name him
in an enumeration which he made of eminent mathemati-
cians, asserted, in a short tract on the curve of swiftest
descent, and the solid of least resistance, that Newton was
the first fnventor of the new calculus, and that he would
leave to others to decide what Leibnitz, the second inven-
tor, might have borrowed from the English geometer. To
this attack Leibnitz gave a spirited answer, and complained
to the Royal Society ; and there the dispute rested for a
time. Afterwards, when Newton's treatise on the Quadra-
ture of Curves, and his Enumeratioii of lines of the third
order, came out, in 1704, the Leipsic journalists gave an
unfavourable account of it, and in effect said, that Newton
had taken his method from that of Leibnitz, substituting
fluxions for differences. This assertion called forth the in-
dignation of the British mathematicians, and without doubt
offended Newton himself. Accordingly, in 1708. Keill in-
serted in the Philosophical Transactions a paper, in which
he stated formally, that Newton was the first inventor of the
Fluxional Calculus, and that Leibnitz, in publishing it in
the Leipsic Acts, had only changed the name and the no-
tation.

Leibnitz thus accused of plagiarism, addressed a letter
to H.iiis Sloane, Secretary to the Royal Society, requiring
|,hat Keill should retract what he had said; But far from

this, Keill replied in a long letter to Hans Sloane, in which
he enumerated the reasons that led him to conclude, not
only that Newton had preceded Leibnitz in the discovery, but
that he had given so many indications of his method, as to
bring it within the comprehension of a man of even mo-
derate capacity. This letter was sent to Leibnitz; who re-
quested that the Royal Society should jiut a stop to the
clamour of a person, who was too young to know what had
passed between him and Newton. The Royal Society
judged tliat it would be proper to consult the original pa-
pers, and appointed a committee to select and examine
them. The papers which they selected, were pubiished by
command of the Society, with this title, Commercium Efiia-
tolicum de varia re ATaChemalica inter Ceteberrimos /iraaentis
seculi Mathematicos, Sec. And to this was added tlie report
of liic committee, which was to the following effect :
" That Mr Leibnitz was in London in 1673, and went
thence to Paris, where he kept a correspondence with Mr
Collins, by means of Mr Oldenburg, till about September
1676, and then returned by London and Amsterdam to
Hanover, and that Mr Collins was very free in communi-
cating to able mathematicians what he had received from
Newton : That it did not appear that Mr Leibnitz knew any
thing of the diirerential calculus, before his letter of the
21st of June 1677; which was a year after a copy of
Newton's letter of the lOlii December 1672 had been sent
to Paris, to be conimunicateu to him ; aiici about four years
alter, IVIr Collins began to communicate that letter to his
correspondents, in which letter, the method of fluxions
Was butliciently described to any intelligent person : That
Newton was in possession of his calculus before the year
1669 ; and that those who had reputed Leibnitz the first
inventor, knew little or nothing of his correspondence with
Mr Collins and Mr Oldenburg long before, nor of New-
ton's having that method above fifteen years before Mr
Leibnitz began to publish it in the Leipsic Acts: That for
these reasons, they reckoned Newton the first inventor, and
were of opinion tliat Mr Keill, in asserting the same, had
been in nowise injurious to Mr Leibnitz."

In this report, the committee cautiously avoided giving
any direct opinion upon the only point on which there
could be any doubt, namely, whether Leibnitz had invent-
ed the calculus for himself, or had availed himself of the
labours ol Newton. The icnour of their report seems to
shew, that they were of the latter opinion. The Commer-
cium Eiiistolicum was circulated with great care over Eu-
rope, with a view to vindicate the claim of the British na-
tion, to the most important discovery that has ever been
made in abstract science.

It was not to be supposed that Leibnitz would quietly
submit to this decision, so unfavourable to his pretensions :
He considered himself as grievously injured, and threaten-
ed to answer it in such a manner, as to confound his ad-
versaries. Tiiis feeling must have arisen from the insi-
nuation, that he had stolen the invention ; for, as to the
right to priority of discovery, that is, beyond doubt, in fa-
vour of Newton.

When this dispute was originally agitated, the natural
feelings of patriotism, which protect nations against the
encroachments and unjust pretensions of each other, pre-
vented that cool discussion which is necessary for the dis-
covery of truth. The British mathematicians were deci-
dedly averse to Leibnitz's claims, while the foreigners, on
the contrary, supported them with as much acrimony as if
it had been a dispute about a matter of faith rather than of
testimony. Even Newton himself, who, for a time, does
not appear to have taken an active part in the controversy,
at last suppressed, in the edition of his Frincifiia, printed
in 1726, the passage he had inserted in the first edition,

FLUXIONS.

113

•which admitted that Leibnitz had discovered the calculus
by his own efforts. He probably would have done this in
the earlier edition of 1713, if it had not been brouglit out
in a private manner by Cotes and IJeniley at Cambiidge,
ivhile he was at a distance, with whose conduct, on this
occasion, he was by no means pleased. It may be suppos-
ed, that, in suppressing the passage, he was actuated by a
feeling of resentment for the undeserved abuse thai had
been bestowed on his writings by the friends of Leibnitz,
and also by the unjustifiable conduct of that philosopher
himself.

It is perhaps impossible now to determine with certain-
ty, whether there were just grounds for the suspicion that
Leibmtz had availed himself of N'ewton's invention. Mon-
tucla, in Kk History of Mathematics-, vol. ii. p. 381, 2d
edit, says, " There aie only three places of the Commcr-
ciu?)i Epistolicum, which treat of fiuiiions in so clear a way
as to prove that Newton had found it brfore Leibnitz, but
loo obscurely it seems to take from the latter the merit of
the discovery. One of these is in a letter to Oldenburg,
vcho had signified to Newton that Slussius and Gregory
had each found a very simple way of drawing tangents.
Newton replied, that he conjectured what the nature of
that method was; and he gave an example of it, which
shews that he was in possession of a method in effect the
same as these two geometers had found. He adds, that this
is only a particular case, or rather a corollary to a method
much more general, which, without a laborious calcula-
tion, applies to the finding of tangents to all sorts of curves,
geometrical or mechanical, and that without being obliged
to free the equation from radicals. He repeats the same
thing, without explaining himself farther, in another let-
ter ; and he conceals the principle of the method under
transposed letters. The only place where Newton has al-
lowed any thing of his method to transpire, is in his Ana-
lysis /ler itguationes numero ter?ninorum ivjinitas. He here
discloses, in a very concise and obscure manner, his me-
thod of fluxions ; but there is no certainty that Leibnitz
saw this essay. His opponents have never asserted, that
it was communicated to him by letter ; and they have gone
no farther than to suspect that he had obtained a know-
ledge of it in his intercourse with Collins upon Ivis second
journey to London. Indeed, this suspicion is not entirely
destitute of probability ; for Leibnitz admitted, that, in this
interview, he saw a part of the Epistolary Curresfiondence
of Collins. However, I think it would be rash to pro-
nounce upon this circumstance. If Leibnitz had confined
himself to a few essays of his new calculus, there might
have been some ground for that suspicion. But the nu-
merous pieces he inserted in the Leipsic Acts, prove the
calculus to have received such improvements from him,
that probably he owed the invention to his genius, and to
the efforts he made to discover a method that had put
Newton in possession of so many beautiful truths. This
is so much the more likely, as from the method of tan-
gents discovered by Dr Barrow, the transition to the dif-
ferential calculus was easy, nor was the step loo great for
such a genius as that with which Leibnitz appears to have
been endowed." In this opinion, we are disposed to agree
with Moiitucia; and we consider that we add to its weight
by the following testimony in its favour, from one of the
most elegant writers and able critics of the present time :
Trf ^fiebrated La Place having asserted, hi \\\% Pliiloso-
jilncal Essay on Probabilities, that Format was the true in-
ventor of the Differential Calculus ; the writer to wliom
we have alluded, in i. review of La Place's work, says,
*' Against the affirmation that Fermat is the real inventor
of the differential caiciilus, we must enter a strong and so-
lemn protc sti'if'n The age in which that discovery was

Vol. IX. Part. I.

made has been unanimous in asciibing the honour of it ei-
ther to Newton or Leibnitz ; or, as seems to us much the fair-
est and most probable opinion, that is, to both, to each inde-
pendently of the other, the priority in respect of lime being
somewliat on the side of the English mathematician. The
writers of the history of the mathematical sciences have
given tlieir suffrages to the same effect. Moiituclsi, for
instance, who has treated the subject with great impar-
tiality, and Bossut, with no prejudice certaiidy in favour
of the English pnilosopher. In the great controversy to
wliich this invention gave rise, all the claims were like-
ly to be well considered; and the ultimate and fair deci-
sion, in which all sides seem to have acquiesced, is that
which has been just mentioned. It ought to be on good
grounds, that a decision passed by such competent judg-
es, and that has been now in force for a hundred years,
should all at once be reversed." Edinburgh Review, vol.
xxiii. p. 324.

The new calculus was not at first cultivated with that
attention which its importance deserved; and, therefore,
in order to rouse the attention of mathematicians, Leib-
nitz, in 1687, proposed the following problem: "To de-
termine the curve a heavy body ought to describe, in or-
der to descend equally in equal times." Huygens was the
first that shewed what was the nature of the curve, but he
did not indicate his method of solution. James Bernoulli
also resolved the problem by the differential calculus, and
published his analysis in the Leipsic Acts of 1690. About
the same time, John Bernoulli, a younger brother of James,
began his career as a mathematician : he studied the
science, aided by his brother's instructions, and he con-
tracted a friendship for Leibnitz, which continued until
the death of the latter, in 1716. He made the calculus
known in France, and gave lessons on the subject to the
Marquis de I'Hopital. Leibnitz and the BernouUis re-
solved many new and difficult problems, which they pro-
posed as challenges to the geometers of that period. They
also determined the nature of the catenaria, (or curve
formed by a chain or cord which hangs freely, but is fas-
tened at its extremities,) and the curve of swiftest descent,
which had proved too difficult for Galileo, and the mathe-
matical theories known in his time. A spirit of rivalship
was excited between the two BernouUis, and they waged
a war of problems, each endeavouring to puzzle the other;
this, although carried on with a degree of animosity on
the part of John not at all becoming, was yet of advan-
tage to the science, as it produced the celebrated isojieri-
metrical problems., a class more difficult than any that had
previously engaged the attention of mathematicians ; al-
though, indeed, Newton had resolved a problem of this
kind in his Principia, when treating of the solid of least
resistance. The calculus went on improving continual-
ly ; it was applied to the theory of evolutes, one of the most
beautiful discoveries made by Huygens; but, with the ex-
ception of some pieces in the Leipsic Acts, there was as
yet no work professedly on the subject; at length, the Mar-
quis de rilopital published his Analyse des infinimenl pe-
tits, in 1699. John Bernoulli claimed the invention of the
principal methods in this work, confidentially to Leibnitz
in I'Hopital's lifetime, and publicly after his death. In-
deed, L'llopital acknowledges in the preface his obliga-
tions to the two BernouUis and Leibnitz, allowing them to
claim as much of it as they pleased, and professing that
he would be content with the remainder. L'HOj'ital's
book treats only of one part of the theory, viz. the diffe-
rential calculus, which answers to the direct method of
fluxions. He says he had intended to give a work on the
inte:;ral calculus; that is, the inverse method effluxions;
but Leibnitz had informed him, that he was then prepar-

114

FLUXIONS.

ing a treatise De Scientia injiniti, which he did not wish
to anticipate. This work, however, never appeared. Tlie
first general theory in this part of the subject related to
the integration of rational fractions, which John Bernoulli
gave in 1702: but, indeed, ho had indicated the nsethod of
integratiiij^ differential equations, by separating tiie varia-
ble quantities as far back as 1694. In 1707, Gabriel Man-
fredi, an Italian, gave an entire work, entitled, De Con-
strucUone xtjuationum differenlialium firitni ^radus, which
contained all that had been done down to that time relating
to the integral calculus.

John Bernoulli composed a series of lectures on the in-
tegral calculus, for the use of his scholar and patron, L'Ho-
pital; this was when he came to Faris in the year 1692.
These are curious, as the earliest essays in this branch ol
the calculus, &\\A valuable by their intrinsic merit. They
would have formed an excellent sequel to L'Hopital's
work, but they were not published until 1742, when they
appeared in the third volume of Bernoulli's works.

It is to be regretted that Newton did not accomplish a
design he had formed in 1671, of publishing his method
effluxions, and its application; for, with the exception of
what he himself had done, hardly any thing appeared in
England on the subject before the end of the century. Da-
vid Gregory explaintd some of its principles and applica-
tions, in a treatise, De dimenaione Jigurarum, printed in
1684. John Craig published a treatise, De curvarum cjua-
dracurisy in 1693, which he afterwards enlarged and pub-
lished again in 1718, with the title De calcuto Jluentium.
De Moivre and Fatio gave solutions in the Philosopliical
Transactions of the problem concerning the solid of least
resistance ; the latter in 1693, and the former in 1699.

In the year 1703, George Cheyne, a Scottish mathema-
tician and physician, published his Methodus Fluxionum
inversa, Edin. 1703. The author committed some mis-
takes which were pointed out by De Moivre : He had also
been wanting in justice to the mathematicians on the con-
tinent, and this exposed him to the animadversions of John
Bernoulli. In the year 1704, a treatise of fluxions was
published by Charles Hayes, Gent. This, we believe, was
the earliest work on the subject that was written in the
English language.

It is remarkable that Newton himself should have been
so slow in publishing any thing relating to his calculus.
The year 1699 must be considered as the epoch at which
his numerous analytical inventions were first made gene-
rally known ; but this was in the second volume of the
works of Wallis. At length, however, in the year 1704,
when he printed his 0/itics, he added to it, Tractatus de
Quadratura Curvarum, in which he explains the principles
of his method, applying it to quadratures. Besides, he
composed the work he had originally intended, 0?i the me-
thod of Fluxions and Infinite Heries, it'ith its apfilication
to the Geometry of Curve Lines. It was written m Latin,
and Dr Pemberton once intended to have published it, with
the author's consent, in his lifetime : This, however, was
not done; and it was not printed until 1736, many years
after Newton's death, when Colson translated it into Eng-
lish, and added to it a comment.

In enumerating the early improvers of the fluxional cal-
culus. Cotes deserves paiticularly to be mentioned: He
discovered a very elegant property of the circle, by which
the fluents of a certain class of rational fractions were de-
termined by means of the trigonometrical tables and loga-
rithms. Unfortimately for science this excellent mathe-
matician died early in life. Newton had formed great ex-
pectations from him. His theorem forms the basis of his
posthumous work, Harmonia Mensurarum, published in
1722, by his friend Dr Smith. The inventions of Cotes

were extended and completed by De Moivre, in his Mis-
cellanea Analytica, published in 1730. Dr Brook Taylor
also holds a distinguished place in the higher class of those
who extended the calculus. His Methodus Incremcntorum,
printed in 1715, contains in the second part many aijpli-
cations of fluxions to pliysico-matheniatical problems. His
theorem for the devclopement of any function of a binomial,
leads to many beautiful applications of fluxions; and one
of the greatest mathematicians in modern times, the late
Lagrange, has made it the foundation of his theory of the
calculus.

The science received considerable improvement from
the mathematicians in Germany, particularly in that branch
which relates to the flutfnts of fluxions, containing several
variable quantities. The two Nicolas Bcrnoullis,one a son
of James and the other a son of John Bernoulli, and Daniel
Bernoulli, another son of John, gave, in the Leipsic Acts,
and in the Petersburg Memoirs, a multitude of profound
disquisitions relating to the calculus; and to these may be
added the labours of their countryman Herman.

The dispute between the schools of Newton and Leib-
nitz tended to the improvement of the calculus, by the
problems which each party proposed as challenges to the
other. Thus Leibnitz, in order to feel the pulse of the Eng-
lish, as he expressed it, a shoit time before his death, pro-
posed the problem of orthogonal trajectories, that is, curves
which cut in a given angle a series of curves of the same gi-
ven kind. Newton resolved the problem on the day he re-
ceived it ; but John Bernoulli did not consider his solution
as complete, because he had not integrated the fluxional
equation, but taken for granted that the manner of doing it
was known. On the other side, Keill challenged Bernoul-
li, by name, to find the path of a projectile, moving in a me-
dium, in which the resistance was as the square of the ve-
locity. Bernoulli quickly resolved the problem, not only
in that particular case, but also when the resistance was as
any power whatever of the velocity. He then required
that Keill should produce his own solution ; but Keill had
not resolved his problem himself, and in fact found it too
hard. He therefore maintained a profound silence, and
Bernoulli obtained a complete triumph over the English
philosopher.

Taylor also proposed, as a challenge, a fluxion of a par-
ticular form to be integrated ; this was addressed to all ma-
thematicians not English. As John Bernoulli was under-
stood to be particularly aimed at, he offered to wager fifty
guineas that he could resolve Taylor's problem, and fifty
more that he would propose a problem which Taylor
should not resolve, but wnich he could resolve himself.
Taylor did not accept this challenge : Bernoulli gave a so-
lution of Taylor's problem in the Leipsic .\cts.

The new calculi excited a controversy of a different kind»
respecting the accuracy of their principles. These were
attacked on the continent by Niewentiit, and Rolle ; and de-
fended by Leibnitz, Varignon, and Saurin. In England,
Dr Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne, called in question, not only
the logical accuracy of tne reasoning employed to establish
the theory of fluxions, but also the faith of mathemaiicians
in general, in regard to matters of religion. He began the
controversy in his work entitled the Minute Philosojiher.
But the principal attack was made in 1734, in The Analyst,
or a discourse addressed to an Infidel Mathematiciari, (un-
derstood to be Dr Halley,) wherein it is examined whether
the object, firinci/iles, and inferences of the modern analysis
are more distinctly conceived than religious mysteries and
points of faith. One of the best answers to the Bishop
came from tlie pen of Benjamin Robins, in A discourse con-
ceming the nature and certainty of Sir Isaac JVewton's me-
thod ofFluxionis, and of Prime and Ultimate Ratios. Berke-

FLUXIONS.

115

ley, however, had some reason for his objections. The
very concise manner in which the great inventor had pro-
mulgated his discovery, nught leave room for a dispute
about the accuracy of the terms. Instead of defending
these, it wis better to adopt a mode of explanation more
intelligible, and consonant to the common methods of ma-
thematical reasoning. This was done by Machuirin, in his
Treatise of Fluxions, (1742.) He iias there placed the
principles of the method upon the firm basis of geometri-
cal demonstration ; but his demonstrations are tedious, so
that we fear few have patience enough to study the sub-
ject, as delivered in the first part of his work. The se-
cond, in which the subject is considered in the usual man-
ner, and algebraic characters are employed, is very valua-
ble, and indeed the whole work abounds v.'ith original views
of the theories connected with fluxions, and it proves the
author to belong io the highest class of mathematicians.

Before the publication of Maclaurin's treatise, Mr Tho-
mas Simpson had given the first edition of his A''eiu Trea-
tise of Fluxions, {\7Z7 .) He new modelled the work, and
published it again in 1750. This was a very valuable work
at the time it appeared, and, as far as it goes, is at the pre-
sent time one of the best introductions to the method of
fluxions in the English language.

Emerson's Doctrine of Fluxions came out in 1743. This
has also been always much esteemed in England. It con-
tains a great number of applications ; but as it places the
subject less within the reach of a beginner, Simpson's book
is, we believe, more popular.

It is to the celebrated Euler that the calculus is indebt-
ed for its greatest improvements. Indeed these are far too
numerous to find a place in the brief view which our limits
allow us to give of the progress of the science ; even the
titles of his various memoirs would fill several of our pages:
his more remarkable works will be given in the list of
books relating to the subject in the conclusion. That
Ijranch of the calculus which treats of the higher class of
problems, Z)e maximis et minimis, such as the solid of least
resistance, the curve of swiftest descent, &c. was first re-
duced by him to the form of a distinct theory, in his Me-
thodus inveniendi Lineas Curvas Maximi Minimive firopri-
etate gaudentes, Sive solutio Probiematis Iso/ierimetrici la-
tissimo sensu accepti, (1744.) This theory was improved
and new )\Aodelled by Lagrange, and denominated the Me-
thod of Variations. It is a remarkable instance of Euler's
candour, that he took up the subject a second time, and
laying aside his own theory, treated it according to La
Grange's views, employing also the same notation. Euler's
writings on the analysis of infinites, and the differential and
integral calculus, are a treasure of analytical knowledge,
richer than was ever before produced by the labours of an
individual.

A discovery made by an Italian mathematician, the Mar-
quis Fagnano, or Eagnani, has contributed considerably to
the improvement of a branch of the fluxional calculus. He
found that it is always possible to assign two arcs of an
ellipse, reckoned from one extremity of each axis, such,
that their difference may be expressed by algebraic quan-
tities; and that any hyperbola has a similar property. This
curious theorem, which has led to some remarkable transfor-
mations of fluxional formulae, appears to have been but lit-
tle known in Britain, as we do not recollect to have seen it
in any of the mathematical works published in this country
until it was also found by our ingenious countryman, Mr
Landen, who added to it another remarkable discovery,
namely, that any hyperbolic arc may always be rectified by
means of two elliptic arcs. This theorem was of great im-
portance, because it reduced to elliptic arcs all fluents that
bad before been expressed by hyperbolic arcs. Legendrc

followed in the tract of Landen's discovery, and shewed, in
the Memoirs of the Academy of Sciences of Paris, for 1786,
that the rectification of any ellipse may be reduced to that
of two others, which have their eccentricities as small or
as great as we please.

It is a circumstance highly honourable to female genius,
that we have to mention an excellent treatise on this difii-
cull branch of mathematics from the pen of a lady ; we al-
lude to ylnalytical Institutions in four books, written origi-
nally in Italian, by Donna Maria Gactana Agnesi, Professor
of the Mathematics and Philosophy in the University of
Bologna. This work was first published in 1748. A ma-
thematician of great eminence, Mr Bossut, translated the
second volume of it into French, and inserted it in his course
of mathematics, as the best treatise he could furnish on the
difleiential and integral calculus. And an English mathe-
matician, Mr Colson, (who translated Newton's Fluxions),
translated it also into English, having studied the Italian lan-
guage at an advanced period of life, for the express pur-
pose of making hin)self master of the work. The histo-
rian of the mathematics, Montucla, bestows great praise on
this extraordinary woman ; and her own countryman, Frisi,
who has himself excelled so much both in pure and mixed
mathematics, calls her work O/ius nitidissi?)ium,ingeniossis-
simiim, et certe maximum quod adhuc ex famine alicujus
calamo firoderat. Foran account of this lady, sec Agnesi.

'i'he invention of the Arithmetic of Sines, which is due
to Euler, has contributed greatly to the improvement of the
calculus, and to its application to the physlco-mathemati-
cal sciences. Indeed, to Euler we are more or less indebt-
ed for almost every improvement it has received. He first
discovered the criterion by which it may be determined
whether a fluxional equation admits of an exact integral or
not; but it was also found, about the same time, by two
French mathematicians, Fontaine and Clairaut: this was
about the year 1739 or 1740.

The method o{ Partial Differences, one of tlie greatest
improvements in the calculus, was t'lc, invention of D'Alem-
bert, who found it when he was inquiring into the figure
which a musical string assumes during its vibrations. The
germ of the discovery may, however, be traced to a me-
moir of Euler's in the Petersburg Commentaries for the
year 1734 ; and to him we are also indebted for the form of
the theory and its notation.

Newton, in explaining the method of fluxions, consider-
ed all quantities as generated by motion, a line by the mo-
tion of a point, a surface by the motion of a line, a solid by
the motion of a surface, &c. Leibnitz, on the other hand,
employed the consideration of infinitely little increments,
{infiniment {letits). Against both these methods, objections
have been urged. It has been said, that motion is an idea
quite foreign to pure mathematics, and therefore it ought
not to be employed in establishing its doctrines ; and still
stronger objections have been urged against the introduc-
tion of infinitely small quantities into mathematics. Our
ingenious countryman, Mr Landen, proposed to lay aside
the consideration of motion in explaining fluxions, and, in-
stead of the Newtonian theory, he proposed to substitute
another, which he called the Residual Analysis : this was
about the year 1760. His method has not been followed,
but his candor in getting the better of national prejudice in
favour of Newton's method, has procured him the approba-
tion of foreign mathematicians.

Lagrange, in the Berlin Memoirs for 1772, proposed to
shew, that the theory of the developement of functions into
series, contained the true principles of the diff"erentjal cal-
culus, independently of the consideration of infinitely small
quantities or limits ; and he demonstrated by this theory the
theorem of Taylor, which he regarded as the fundamental

P 2

116

FLUXIONS.

principle of the calculus, and which had only been dcmon-
stratcd by the help of the calculus itself, or else by the eon-
sicleiution of iiitinilely little cjuantitics. This is the view of
the subject which he has given in his Theoric des Fonctiuna
.-^^Ja/i/^/i/Mfs, published in 1792, and, at a later period, in his
Lemons siir Ic calcul dcs Fonclions. These works have been
much and justly admired, on account of the luminous views
they present of many important points in the calculus. In
explaining his method, the author has employed a new
mode of notation; but although some of the best foreign
writers have adopted his principles, they have generally
udhcred to the old notation, considering it more expressive
and commodious than tliat which was proposed.

Among the British mathematicians of later times, who
have cultivated this calculus, I)r Waring is conspicuous.
His writings are the only mathematical works published
in this country, until of late years, that have kept p-.ice
with the improvements made in this science on tlie conti-
nent. We fear they are less read than they deserve, per-
haps in consequence of their peculiar style, and being com-
posed in the Latin tongue.

V ...

In concluding this introduction, we mention, with re-
gret, the fact, that there is not a book in the English lan-
guage from which any thing like a tolerable knowledge of
the fluxional or differential calculus, in its present im-
proveil state, can be obtained. Such as wish to study this
science beyond its mere elements, must have recourse to
the writings of Eukr, or to the French Treatises. La Croix
composed a work in three cpiaito volumes, in which he
professed to have collected, into one point of view, all the
improvements contained in Euler's writings and in acade-
mical memoirs. A second edition, in which the work is
somewhat enlarged, is now printing, and two volumes have
already come to this country. There are other smaller
works of great merit also in the French tongue ; these, as
well as some English treatises, which our limits will not
admit of our noticing liiore particularly, will be found in
the following lis^ of writers on this subject ;

Newton, Be Anahjui fier equationea numero terminontm
ivjinilas, published in the Commcrcium Efiistolicum in 1712,
but circulated among his friends in MS. as early as 1669.

Newton, Tractaius de gitadratura curvarum, published
along with his 0/ttics in 1704; also together with the trea-
ties De Analyst, &c. by Jones, 1711.

Newton, Princifiia. Lib. II. Sect. II. Lem. 2. 1687.
Newton, The Method of Fluxiona and Infinite Series,
1735.

Leibnitz, JVova methodua firo maximia et minimis it emgue
langentibusi Leipsic Acts, Oct. 1684.

Tile History of the Discovery of Fluxions is contained in
the Commercium Efiistolicum de varia re Mathematica inter
celeberrimos prxsentis seculi Matheviaticos^ isfc. Jussu Socie-
tatia Regie in lucem editum, 1712, and the third volume of
Opera Leibnitii. 1768, also a collection of pieces of M. Des-
Wi'isvaux, the works of Wallis, and Ralphson's History of
Fluxions.

James Bernoulli, Analysis magni Problematis Isofierime-
trici, 1701.

John Bernoulli, Oftera Omnia, 1742.

Leibnitz and Bernoulli, Commercium Phil, et Math, two
vols. 4io. 1745.

De L'Hopital, Anahjae des Infiniment fietita, 1696.

Cane, Methode fiour la Mesure dcs Hurfaces, &c. 1700.

Cheyne, Ftuxioman methodus itrversa, l703.

Harris, ./^/^-fAra, 1702; and L.exicuin Technicum, 1704.

Hayes, A Treatise on Fluxions, 1704.

Dilton, Institution of Fluxions.

Manli'cdi, De conatructione tfjualionum differentia Hum
firimi gradus, 1704.

Jones, Syno/isis Palmariorum Matheseos, 1706.
Craig, Methodus Figurarum Curvilinearum ijuwlraturas
determinandi, 1685.

Craig, De Calcuto Flucntium, 17 IS.
Taylor, Mtthodas Incremcntorum 1715.
Reyneau, ./^?ia/i/»c Demontr^.
Reyiieau, Science de Calcul, 1714.
Cotes, Harmonia Mensurarum, 1722.
Cotes, JEntimatio crrorum in mixta maiheai.
Clarke, Ari Institution of Fluxions, 1726.
De Moivre, Miscellanea Analytica 1730.
Stone, The Method of Fluxi'jnu. 1730.
Hodgson, The Doctrine of Fluxions, 1736.
Dcidier, l.e Culcut differentiel et Ic Calcul Integral, IsV.
1740

Simpson,-^ Treatise on Fluxions, 1737; also 1750.
Maclaurin, A Treatise of Fluxions 1742. 2 vols. 410.
Emerson, The Doctrine of Fluxiojis, 1743.
Agnesi, Instituzioni Analytiche, iSfc. 1748, 2 vols. 4to.
There is a French Translation by Cousin, 1775, also an
English Translation by Colson.

Cramer, Introduction a I'Analyse des lignee Courbet,
1750.

SiUrWn^, Methodus Defferentialis, 1753.
EuU'i, Methodus invenicndi tineas curvas maximi mini-
jnive fir oniric tat e gaudentea, 1744.

Euler, Introductio in Analysin Infinitorum, 1748.
Euler, Institutiones Calculi Diffcrentialis, 1755.
Euler, Institutiones Calculi Integralis. 3 torn. 1763 — -
1770, also in 4 volumes, 1792, 1793, i794 Euler's Acade-
mical Memoirs relating to the calculus, are too numerous
to admit of being specified here. A list of his writings,
published and unpublisi'ed, is given in the edition of the
Institutiones Calculi Differentialis, printed at Pavia 1787.
It occupies 30 quarto pages. See Euler.

Mascheroni. Annotationes ad calculum integralem Euleri,
1790. Pars altera. 1792

Walmesly, Analyse des mesures des ra/ifiorts et des an-
gles, 1750.

Bougainville, Traite dte Calcul Integral, 1754.
Robin's A/athemalical Tracts, 1761.
Laiiden, The Residual Analysis, 1764.
Landen, Maihemwical Lucubrations, 1755.
Landen, Mathematical Memoirs. 1780.
Saunderson, The Method of Fluxions, 1756.
Lyons' Fluxions. 1738.

D'Alembert, 0/iuscules Mathematiqucs, 1761.
Condorcet, Z)u Calcul Integral. 1765.
Lc ?>e.\iT cX. i \cc\\i\r:t, Elemens (!u Calcul Integral, 1768.
Fontaine, Traite de Calcul Diff. et Integral, 1770.
Waring, Miscellanea Analytica, 1762,
Waring, Meditationes Analytics. 1775.
Cousin, Li g^^ns de Calcul differentiel etde Calcul Integral,
1777, 2 vols 8vo. also since, ui two vols 4iO
Kramp's Analyse des Rffractions Astronomigues:
L'Huilliir. Exft'i-^ition Elementaire des Princifies dea Cal-
culs Superieurs 1786

L'Hnillier, Principiorum Calcu/i differentiafia et integraUt
Exfiositio elcmentaris. 1795.

T.ihiesccn, Princifiia atijue Hiatoria inventionia calculi
Differentialis et Integralis, 7tec non methodi Fluxionum,
1793.

Lacroix, Traite du Calcul Differentiel et du Calcul Inte-
gral, 3 vols. 41' , 1797 ; also Traite Elementaire de Calcul
differentiel et de Calcul Integral, 1 vol. 8vo. 1802,

FLUXIONS.

ii:

Vince, The Princi/iies of Fluxions, 1795.

L'.j^range Calcul des Variaiiona, in the Miscell. Tauri-
nensia, lorn. ii. el iv.

Liigrange, Theorie des Fonctions Analytiques, 1797.

Lagrange, L( foris sur le Calcul des Fonctions.

Bossul, Traite de Calcul Differentielf et de Calcul Inte-
gral, 1798.

Ciiniol, Reflexions sur la Metafihysique du Calcul hifi-
niteiimal, 1797.

Woodhouse, The Frinci/iles of jinalytical Calculation,
1803

Woodhouse, A Treatise on Isofierimetrical Problems^ and
the Calculus of Variatinns, 1810.

SpciiCv, An Essay on the Theory of the various Orders
tf J.osfiirilhinic Transcendentals, 1809.

Ampere, Recherchcs sur quelqurs. Points de la Theorie
des fonctions dcrivees. Journal de I'Ecole Polytechnique
13 Cahier, 18U5.

Dcalliy, A Treatise on FluxioJts 1810.

Du Bourguet Traiii Eltmentaire de Calcul Differentiel,
Sec. 1811.

Garnier, Lcgons de Calcul Differentiel. &c. 1811.

Legendre, Kxercices de Calcul Integral, 1811.

Tiie memoirs relaiing to the calculus, wnich have been
published in the transactions of icaruetl societies, are
too numerous to admit of a particiiLir description here.
For tnesc, the Bibliotheca Mathemaiica of M. Murliardt
may be consulted: Ai^o, the 7th volume of Re/iertorium
Commentationum, a socictaiibus Litterariis edi.'arum, publish-
ed by M. Reuss. This volume, which is sold separate, con-
tains the titles of all the mathematical memoirs inserted in
the academical collections, and classed according to the
different subjects.

The most beautiful applications which have been made
of the calculus are to be found in the Princi/iia of Newton,
the Mechanica of Euler, the Alecanique Analytique of La
Grange, and the Mecanique Celeste of La Place.

SECTION L

FUMDAMEKTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE ThEORY OF FLUX-
IONS.

Article 1. In the branch of mathematical analysis,
■which is strictly called Algebra, quantities are distinguish-
ed into knoivn and unknoivn ; but, in some other branches,
and paiticularly in the theory of fluxions, they are distin-
guished into constant and variable.

A constant quantity, is that which has always the same
value.

A variable quantity, is that which may increase or de-
crease, and while it changes from one state of magnitude
to another, passes through all the intermediate states.

Thus, in trigonometry, the radius of a circle is a constant
quantity, and an arc of a circle, also its sine, tangent, and
secant are variable quantities. In conic sections, the axes
of the curves, and their parameters, are constant, and the
abscissae and ordinates are variable.

2. It is usual to denote constant quantities by the first
letters of the alphabet, a, 6, c. Sec. and variable quantities
by the last letters, r, y, x, &c. so that, in the equation y^
z^ax-^bx' , X and y are to be regarded as variable, and a
anu b as constant.

A quantity which depends, in any way, upon another, so
as to vary, according as the quantity on which it depends

varies, is called a. function of tliat quantity. Ii t/=a.r2-j-
bx-\-c; or if y=^ (a^-j-4ar;) or if i/=:a-', in each case,
y is called a function of x ; the quantities a, b, r, are not
considered, because they are supposed to be constant, and
X alone to vary.

A quantity which depends upon two or more variable
quantities, is also called a function of these quantities :
Thus, if !/=ay"-|-4x^, then y is called a function of v
and X.

A quantity may be considered as a function of another,
provided it depend on it, although it be not directly ex-
pressed by that quantity, and even although the manner of
expressing it is not known: Thus, in the equation x^-j-!/^
^axy, y may be regarded as a function of x, and, on the
other hand, j; as a function of y; because the one may be
expressed in terms of the other, by the resolution of a
cubic equation. Also, the roots of an equation, of the
fifth degree, are to be regarded as functions of its coeffi-
cients, because they depend entirely on them, although
the manner of expressing each root is not known.

3 Functions are distinguished into exfilicit and imfilicit.
A quantity y is an explicit function of another quantity
X, when its value is given directly by that of x, with-
out the resolution of any equation. But it is an im-
plicit function, when an equation must be resolved before
its value can be found. Thus, if y=ax-\-bx^ -{-c, then y
is an explicit function of x. But if y he so related to x,
that y^-\-x^=^axy, in this case y is an implicit function
of X.

Functions are also divided into algebraic and transcen-
dental. Algebraic functions are such as, when reduced
to tiieir proper form, consist of a finite nunilier of terms,
or admit of the relation of their indeterminate quantities
being expressed by an algebraic equation. Transcenden-
tal functions, on the other hand, do not admit of the rela-
tion of the variable quantities being expressed by algebraic
equations, composed of a finite number of terms ; thus,
if y be a logarithm, of which x is the number, that is, if
y= log. .r ( or if y=:a^; or \( y = sin. x, then, in each
case, y is a transcendental function of x.

4. A clear notion of the nature of a function of a vari-
able quantity x inay be obtained by considering that quan-
tity as the abscissa of a curve, and y the function, as the
corresponding ordinate. Thus, if !/=^ (2a.r — x"); let
a circle be described with a radius equai to e, and at any
point in the diamctc:r, let a perpendicular be drawn to ter-
minate in the circumference ; then, the distance of the
perpendicular from the extremity of the diameter, or the
abscissa, being taken as the representative of x, the per-
pendicular or ordinate, will represent y, and the manner in
which y varies will be understood by supposing the ordi-
nate to move along the diameter, from one extremiiy to
the other, thus giving all possible values to x. A function
of two variable quantities may in like manner be repre-
sented geometrically by one of the three co-ordinates of any
point in a curve surface; the variable quantities on which
the function depends being represented by the other two.

5. The hypothesis that a quantity may change from one
state of magnitude to another, so as to pass through all the
intermediate degrees of magnitude, gives rise to a pro-
perty which belongs to all functions whatever, and which
is the foundation of the theory of fluxion?. The existence
of this property may be proved in a general way, without
any reference to particular functions.* But as very gene-

• See a Memoir in the 13th Cahier of Journal de L'Ecole Polytechniim, entitled, Recherchcs sur qaclqats points de la Theorie des For.etims
dtrivies, fc. By M. Ampere.

118

FLUXIONS.

ral reasoning is not so convenient in establishing the pi-in-
ciples of a science as an examination of paiiicular cases,
we piel'cr the latter method, at least in the outset of a
branch of mathematics 'vhicli is consiclcrcil as somewhat
difficult.

We be^in, then, with the particular ak>;ebraic function

l—v
we have

\—vP

— 1 + v + v^+v'

7i=x' : Let us suppose ihat x chanties to .r+/j
corresponding to this change in tl.t.
11 changes to u', then u' =^'+3^;

.c/;^+/P and

fore u' — 71=3 x~ fi-{-

•f/;*, that is

{x + h) '.

and that

V liue of X. the function

/( + 3 xh^+h^, ihere-

u' — u

■ = 3 ar2 + 3 X /i

■.•!,x"-^{3x->rli)h.

The first member of this equation is a function of two
indeterminate quantities x and /;, which we suppose to be
entirely independent of each other. Its numerator and
denominator have the property of decreasing continually
as /) decreases, so that each may be as small as we please.
As these arc the corresponding increments n't x^ and x,
the second member is a general expression for the ratio of
the increments.* It is made up of two parts, one of which,
3 x'^ , is independant of/;, and the other {ox-\-h')h, has
the property of decreasing as /; decreases, and of vanish-
ing altogether when /i=0 : from which it appears, that al-
though the numerator and denominator of the function

(xA-h'\'^ x^

\ — 1—L , or, in other words, the terms of the ratio

/(
expressed by that function, be supposed to decrease, yet
the function can never be = 0, but will approach to 3 x^ ;
so that this quantity is a limit to the function, or ratio, that
is, a quantity to which it may continually approach, so as
to differ from it at last by less than any assignable quantity.
The property which we have found to belong to the

(x + liS^'—x'^
particular case , extends to the general func-

tion^ ' , n being any constant quantity Avhatever.

In proving this, some writers proceed by the method of
induction, and by deducing one case from another. Others
employ tlie binomial theorem, supposing that theorem to
be proved by the common operations of algebra. As we
propose to deduce tlie binomial theorem, and others of a
similar nature, from the fluxional calculus itself, we shall
avoid all reference to it in establishing the principles, and
give what we concei^'^e to be a new and more elegant de-
monstration of the truth of the property in question. We
shall in the first place, however, resolve the following

Fundamental Problem.

6. Let -V be any positive quantity whatever, and fi and q

any two whole numbers, of which ^ is positive, and ^either

positive or negative. It is proposed to find two boundaries,

. -uP — 1 / 1 — vP\ . ,

between which the function -, or- r > is always

V? — 1 \ I — v^ /

contained ; that is, two expressions, one of which is always

greater, and the other always less than the function.

Investigation. — Let us first suppose v to be less than

unity, and the number /; to be positive. Then because by

division.

l—v

• ZZl +v + v^ +v'

+v -fv

p-l

the number of leims in the second member of this equa-
tion being /J. Now as the terms of the series go on con-
tinually decreasing from the first to the last, the first term
multiplied by /; will be greater than their sum, and the last
term multiplied by ft will be less. If the number of terms
be considerable, tlie same thing will happen if we multi-
ply the second term and the last but one by fi, and agair.
the third and last but two, and so on. However, as we
proceed, the results will differ less and less from the sum ;
and as there must be some quantity, wriich is a mean
among all the terms, or which, when multiplied by their
number, will give exactly their sum, if we suppose the
two adjoining terms, which are, the one greater and the
other less than this mean, to hcv"' andx)""'''', the sum of all
the terms will be less than/ii)"", and greater than fiv"*^ ;
therefore, putting P for some quantity between m anil m-\- 1,
the sum will be expressed exactly by fiv ,t and so we
shall have

^^ =/iv^, and \—vP —ft (1— v>'. (1.)

In considering the nature of the quantity P, it appears
to have these four properties :

1. Its value depends on the value of fi, and also on that
ofv, so that it is a function of fi and v, which we suppose
to be independent of each other.

2. It is always greater than 0, and less than fi.

3. It fi be supposed to increase, then P also increases.

4. The quantity P increases slower than fi, so that iffi
is increased by an unit, P will not be increased by so much
as an unit.

The first two properties are sufficiently evident. To
prove the third and fourth, let us suppose that when fi in-
creases to fi-\- 1, then P becomes P', thus we have,

flv^ZZl+v + v'...+v ,(to/i terms,)
(fi+\)v^ — \+v+v^ . . . +x<P-i+i;^,(to(/!-|-l) terms.)
Let the first of these two series be denoted by N ; then we
have evidently

fiv^=zK,{fi-i-\)v'^ — N+vP — \ +v'N;
and hence, dividing the corresponding members of these
equations the one by the other, we get
^ fiyP

(fi+\)v^-^- \\ N (2.)

Now we have evidently

fivP •uP-l-z'/'-f-y/'-l- &c. (to/! terms)

"n"" 1 + X, 4- 1,^ ; r~; ^vp-'^

fi 1 -I- 1 -f- 1 -f- kc. (to/i terms) _

N ~ T+V+v^ r . . +vP-^'
Then, as v is less than unity, the numerator of the first
of these two expressions is manifestly less than its denomi-
nator, and the numerator of the second is greater than its
denominator ; therefore, the first fraction is less than unity,
and the second greater ; so that

t Consulting brevity, we shall in general express any raUo by a fraction of which the numerator is the antecedent and denominator the

consequent ; thus, the ratio of N to D will be expressed by the fraction g-; and, consequently, the ratio of N to 1 will be expressed by N.

• Here we take for granted the obvious principle, that if a variable quantity pass from one state of magnitude to another without becom-
ing infinite, it must successively have all intermediate degrees of magnitude.

FLUXIONS.

119

.l.and,^-:?'!

jivP

TT'

and hence, from equation (2),

(/;+l)^)i"-P^::l/i+l,anu(/;+l)T:.P'-P-::?-l +/jt); but t:^
being less thun unity, 1 +/it^-p='zi +/it;, that is, l+/;x)-p^
(l + /;}x'i therefore, also

From these exi)r(:S3ions it apptnis tiiat

z-P'-P^::! 1 ; andx;P'-P-::^v;
and hence, by multiplying the quantities on each side of
the sign of inequality by xi*", we have

As TJ is by hypothesis less than unity, we may conclude
from the first of these expressions, that P' is greater than
P ; and from the second, that P' is less than P + 1- Thus
it appears, that the new value of P, which corresponds to
fi -\- 1, is greater than its former value, but that it does
not exceed its former value by so much as 1, and these
are the two properties of the quantity P, which we propos-
ed to demonstrate.

Since it appears from Equation (1), that when fi is any
positive integer number, then

So also 9 being any other integer number, there must be a
corresponding quantity Q, such that

I — vi-=.q {\—v)v^ ;
where Q must have the same properties relatively to q
that P has relatively to fi ; therefore, by dividing the one
of these expressions by the other, we get

I — 1'/> fi

-V ''(P-11-t-

yP-^

(3.)

1 — vl

Let us suppose, for an instant, that /; and g are equal, then,
P and Q will also be equal, and each will be less than ft
or q. Now, let fi be supposed to increase, then P will
also increase ; hut as it does not increase so fast as fi, the
excess of P above Q will not increase so fast as the excess
of/! above q, and so P — Q will always be less than/; — q.
In like manner, i( ft were supposed to decrease, in which
case /; — q and P — Q would be both negative, it will appear
that the negative quantity P — Q would not increase so fast
as the negative quantity fi—q, so that in every case P — Q
will be between 0 and /; — q.

Let z denote some positive quantity that is less than
unity ; then, as we may assume that fi — g : P — Q : : 1 : z,
we have P — Q zzz (fi — q). As z depends on P and Q,
and these again on fi, q and v ; it follows, that z is a func-
tion of /;, q and t;. It is^lO when /i^y, but in every
other case it is a positive quantity, less than unity. By sub-
stituting z (/: — q) for P — Q, we have now
1 — vP fi ,. ,

1 1,* g

Leti)^ — , so that t; being less than unity, u will be

greater than unity. Instead of v, let — be substituted in
the formula just now found, and it becomes

UP I fl

«» — 1~ q

As z is some quantity between 0 and 1, so also 1 -— z will
be between 0 and 1 ; therefore, our formula, which has
been investigated upon the hypothesis that d is less than I,
is also true when v is greater than 1 .

We have hitherto supposed /; to be a positive quantity ;
but to include in the formula the case of fi being a nega-
tive quantity, let both sides of the equation be multiplied
by v~P, and we have

\~.v-P_—fi
1 — vi q

Assume now z(/i — q) — fi^zz'{ — fi — q), and then

z''ZZ—^ ^^^ — : hence, as all possible values of z

are included between 0 and 1, so, all possible values

of z' will be included between

OX(fi — q) —fl

—(/'+'/)

and

that is between ■

•and

but, by

1 X{fi—q)—fi

hypothesis, /; and q are positive quantities ; therefore these
fractions are positive quantities less than unity, and conse-
quently their values are between 0 and 1, and so we have

^—-"~P —fi ^, ^ >

1— tiS q '

z* being a quantity between 0 and 1 : and here it is ma-
nifest, that if fi' be put instead of — fi, the second member
of the equation will have the same form as before.

Upon the whole, then, it appears, i/ial v being any fiosi-
live quantity whatever, and p and <] any two tulnite num-
bers, of luhich 'J is fiositive, and p either fiositive or negative,
we have always

1 — \P fi

1 — V? q '

(A.)

and here z is a certain quantity, which in every case is of an
intermediate magnimde between 0 and 1 ; and in the case of
p being a iiegative number, is contained between the nar.

— P „.^ n

rower limits of -

and

And thus we have

— p + q — p+q

a complete solution of our problem.

7. We now return to the function which expresses the
ratio of the corresponding increments of x" and jc, n being
any quantity whatever. Supposing x to change its value,
and become x -\- h, then x" becomes (x + h)" , and so the

expression for the ratio of the increments is ^ .

X -i- h

Let —^ zZ-vi ; then h'z:.x(y'' — 1), and {x -f A)" — r"
v'"i, and

h vi — r

As we are at liberty to suppose q any number we please,
it may evidently be assumed such a positive integer, that
nq shall be a positive or negative integer. Let nq-^fi,
and then by formula (A), last article, we have

■ui
and consequently,

(jr+A)"— i-n

=«-{'4^}

sCn-I)

. - - I . J ' .^«)

and as, in formula (A), z denotes some function of v, ft, and
q, the value of which is always greater than 0, and less
than I, so here z denotes some function composed of x, h,
and n, which is always of an intermediate magnitude be-
tween 0 and 1.

This formula shews distinctly the important analytical
fact, that the expression for the ratio of the increments of
x^ and X has always a finite value, whatever be the mag-
nitude of h, the increment of x. Moreover, it gives us
immediately two boundaries to that value ; for, as z cannot
be so little as 0, nor so great as 1. it follows that z (n— 1)
cannot be so little as 0, nor so great ;isn— 1, therefore the

value of the expression < — — v must always be be-

120

FLUXIONS.

tween I and

•J —^— I i and that of the general expres-
, between « x""*, and n a."-' •< > =

sion for the raiio

« (:r + /()"-'.

Tiic toiniula also shews, that there is a limit to which
the expression for tlie ratio approaches as A decreases;

for then the fraction ■ approaches continually to unity,
and as the boundaries to the value of the exponeutz (n — 1)

J. will con-
tinually approach to unity, and the general expression for
the ratio to «.i"~', wliich is evidently a limit to its value,

{X-4-/J ") *("~')
i- may differ less from

unity than by any assignable quantity.

We have seen tliat the expression for the ratio is always
between 7;x"~^ and n (x+/;}"~'. Tliese two expressions
may be included in tliis one, ?! (x +//)"-', where h' is put
for a certain quantity greater than 0, and less than h. We
may therefore express the ratio otherwise :

if+^lUfl—n (x+Z/)"-! (B')

and in order to have the two boundaries to its value, we
have only to give to // its two bounding values, viz. 0 and h.
This is another formula, which shews also, in a very dis-
tinct manner, the properties of the expression for the ratio.
From this last formula, we have

(x+h)"ZZx" +71 (x-f/j')"-!/* ;
and as, similarly,

(x + A')""'=-^"~' + ("— 1 ) C^ 4- h"Y--h',
where //'denotes some quantity between Oand A', and con-
sequently between 0 and /i ; we have, by substituting for
(x-t-//)""' its value,

(x-f/;)"=x" -f^xn-Vi + JJ {n—\) (x-f A")"-^^ A'
and therefore

(x+A)"— X" _^ ^n-i^n (n—\ ) (x + A'M'-^A'.
h
This expression for the ratio is composed of two parts,
one of which, «x"~', is entirely independent of the incre-
ment A, and the other n (jz — 1) (x-f A'Jn-V/ is a function of
X and A, which can evidently never be infinite while A has a
finite value, but which vanishes when A=:0, because of its
factor A', which is then ~0. We may denote this second
part of the expression simply by H, and then the ratio may
be otherwise expressed, thus,

h
H being a function of x and A, which vanishes when A^O,
and from this expression the properties of the ratio may
likewise be deduced. Hence also

(x+A)" I3X" -f nxn-^A+HA.
8. The property which we nave demonstrated to belong
to the function x" enables us to prove that every algebraic
function whatever, of a variable quantity x, has a corre-
sponding property. Let

24— Ax'" + Bx'n'-|-Cx"'"+ &c.
be any integral algebraic function of x, and let v! denote
the ne.v value of u when x becomes x-f A. that is, let
m'=:A (x+A)™ 4- B (x+A)""' +C (x+A)'"" 4-Scc.
Then because (x+A)"-— x'" +mx'"-"A+Ii'A, (last article),
and similarly,

(x-f A)'"'rrx'»' ^■m'-i'"'-'A-f n"A,and so on, we have
f/rrAx" -f-Bx^'-f Cx'^'f &(•
-h Amx""-! A+Bm'x'»'-»A+Cm"jr'n"->i%+ &c.

-t-AIl'A+BH"A + CH"'A-j-, fee.
Let the quantity AH'-)-Bli"-f-CIi"'+ &c. which vanishes
when A~0, be denoted by t)ie single letter IL then put ing
u for Ax'" + Bx"''+ Sec. we have a'ziM-f-CAmx'"-'-!-
Bwi'x'^-i -f CWx"'"-*-!- &c.) A + H A, and lieiite

^^^'=Am x'^i-fB m'x'"'-'+ See. -f H.

Here it appears that the expression for the ratio — ;— '

has precisely the saine properly as has been found to be-

• {x+lif — X" . . , -

long to the ratio j ; it is composed of two parts,

one a function of x only, and the other a function of x and
A, which vanislics when A~0.
The fractional function

Aj"" -f Hx'"'+ &c.

ax^ -f fix"' -i- &.C.
has the same property; lor by tlie substitution of x+A in-
stead of X. tiie nuinerutur becomes
Ax^+Bx"" -l-&e.-K7;i.\x">-»-f ;«'Bx"''-» -f &c.)A-l-H'A,
and tlie denonnnalor becomes

ox" -fix"' + £tc. -f (nax»-'+"'6-^"'"' + &C.)A-|-H"A.

Put Aj;" -\-\ix'^' -\- Sec ZTX,

mAx""-' -fm'Bx">'->-hS<:c.:^.S'

ax" -)-6x"'+ Scc.::z:D

7iax»->-fn'6x"'-' -f Sec. =L/

and we have

,_N+N7i+H'A
"— D-fLi'A + h"A"
This expression, by actual division, is easily transformed to
N DN'-ND'
lJ + — [p ^+HA.

in which, as in former cases, H is put to denote briefly that
part of the quotient which is multiplied by one or oiner of
the three quantities A, H' and H", and which, consequently,
vanishes when AizO ; therefore observing that

Yr-~M, we have

—u DN'— ND'

xc — u
~A

+ H.

As the quantities D, N', N and D' are all independent of A,
it is manifest that, in this case, the ratio has the same pro-
perty which we have shewn to belong to it in the others.

9. The determination of the ratio of the increments of
logarithmic and exponential quantities, according to the
plan we have laid down, requires that we resolve this other

Problem.

Let b and x denote two positive quantities, neither of
which is unity, and let b be consant. and x v:irial)le. Also
let u be such a function of x, that xZTA" . It is proposed
to find two boundaries to the values oi u ; that is, two ex-
pressions, one greater and the other less than u.

Investigation. — Let m and n denote any two given num-
bers. Tiicn, whatever be the values of the quantities x
and b, provided they are both greater than unity, it uili al-
ways be possible to find two whole numbers/; and g, and a
positive quantity DjSUcIi that

x'/" — x" , x;?:z:4"'-
For, in order to deteniui.e inem, we have by the theory of
logarithms,

fi . log. V ~ — log X, and g log. vZZi — log. b.

and therefore

■'■f. X

ivg. b'

FLUXIONS.

121

Hence /» and q may be any two whole numbers, as great
as we please, that have to each other the ratio of m log. x
to n log. 6, which indeed is incommensurable, but may be
expressed by numbers as near to perfect accuracy as wc
choose.

The remaining quantity v will be found from the equa-
tion,

LoK. f ~ — loer. x ; or this, log. v ~ — log. b.
*" nfi ^ ° mq °

Now as by hypothesis xZZb'^ , and by assumption .t^t/'",

and h" — 7)"?"'; therefore vfzzv"^"', and hence p)i:^ugm,

and———. Also, since T/'^—x'', and Ti»— A™, therefore
g n

nP-7— :

Let these values of vf , v^ , vP-i, and — be

substituted in the formula

■v9 — \ q

which was investigated in Art. 6. and it becomes

mu X"

b"'

and hence.

Jb'n n{a

-1)

(C)

xW m(6'»— 1)

where m and n are, as we have already observed, quanti-
ties of any magnitude whatever ; and z is some quantity,
always of an intermediate magnitude between 0 and 1.

This formula exhibits elegantly the boundaries to the
value of u ; for as z can never be so small as 0, nor so great
as 1, if we put ? — o and 2~1, we shall obtain two expres-
sions, one of which is greater, and the other less than ti.

These boundaries are

1 1 i
nfx" — 1> _, 6"" nCx" — 1)
-i^ and — . -^ ■

X i i

m(b"' — 1) X" m^b'" — 1)

They are remarkable on account of their involving two ar-
bitrary quantities 7?! and n, which have no apparent connec-
tion witli the function they serve to express. It also ap-
pears, that the bounding values of the function are to one

i 1
another as b"' tojr" ; now as we are at liberty to give as
great values to m and n as we please, this ratio may have
any degree of nearness to a ratio of equality: Hence it ap-
pears, that the quantity u is a limit, to which its two boun-

the logarithm of the number j:.4j(Algebra, art. 330.) We
have, therefore, from formula (C) this remarkable expres-
sion for the logarithm of a number :

«"■ nix" — 1")
log. xn i \

(D)

x" 7n{b"' — 1)
z being some quantity contained between 0 and 1, and tii
and n any numbers whatever.

As we may suppose ?« and n to be as great as we please,

we can make — and — each as nearly ~0, and consequent-
m n

ly, the factor — as nearly ~l as we please. In effect,

x"
therefore, we may consider, that

m[b^ — \)
provided we do not limit the magnitude of the m and n, but
regard them as greater than any assignable immbers.
Under either of these forms the expression for the loga-
rithm of a number is valuable, because it identifies loga-
rithmic and exponential expressions with common algebraic
quantities.

1 1. Perhaps it may be doubted, whether such an expres-
i. X .

sion as m(x" — 1), orm(6'" — 1) admit of any definite value,
on account of the indefinitude of the numbers m and ?;.
To remove this difficulty, we shall resolve this third

Problem.

Let V be any positive quantity, and n any very great num-
ber, or rather a number greater than any assignable num-

X
ber : it is proposed to transform the expression n{y'^ — 1)
into another that shall be free from the indefinite quantity
n: and also to calculate the value of the expression, in
some particular case ; for example, wlien xjziIO.

Solution. — Let V and V be two functions niv, so related
to each other, that 2V'2=:V-f 1 : Then 2(V'^— I)— V'— 1,
V+1 \"^ V'^ V'-fl y'-~\

and

but

V'_l ■'"^"4-1

v_i— v'^— r "■"■ v'^— 1"

as will appear by bringing the terms in the second mem-
ber of the equation into a single fraction. Hence we have
this identical equation.*

V+1_,V'+1 . .V— 1

V— 1~*V'—1 "*"^ V'-fl "^"^
V— 1

daries a«d the intermediate expression ~. <^"~-lI ■ With a view to abridge, put t for ^-_, and similarly e

xn m{b"' — 1)
continually approach, as m and n are supposed to increase,
and to which they may come nearer than by any assignable
difference, and thus we have a complete solution of our
problem.

10. If we suppose b to be the basis or radical number of
a system of logarithms ; then, in the equation xZZb" , u is

for — ,and consequently, — for ___!_, then the formula

V' + \ I' V— 1

may be expressed thus :

1 t'

(1.)

1 1 t'

- = --f--f-i.

t it' 4

• An identical equation is so called, because it may be changed into another wliich shall express merely that a certain quantity is equal to
itself. The equation , .z=l——-= — J-T~, is of this kind, as will appear by reducing the terms in its second member to a common deno-
minator. An identical equation differs from a common algebraic equation, such as v- — 3i!-|-2=0, in this respect, that the latter holds
true only wlien ii has certain particular values, which, in the present case, are i)=l and v=:2 ; but the other holds true when ?) has any
value whatever. Many geometrical theorems, when expressed by algebraic symbols, are identical equations. The fourth proposition
of the second book of Euclid's Elements produces this, (^x-{-y')-:=x^-j-2xy-{-y' ; and the ninth and tenth produce this other, x'-\-y'=
(x-\-yy (x—yy

— 2 — + — t — • '" these, * and>' may have any magnitude whatever.

Vol. IX. Part. I. Q

122

FLUXIONS.

Let lis now suppose that V, V", V", Ecc. to Vf-") ( C")
denoting the nvimber of accents over tiie last term) are a
series of quantities each formed from that before it, exactly
as V' is from V, or so that

2 V = V + 1, 2 V"2 == V + 1, 2 V'"^ = V" + 1, Sec.

V" 1 V'" 1 ¥<"■) I

and let the fractions ^^. -, ^-^ , &c. to

(3.)

371*

t"'

+ 73

+ ^. And

V"+ i' V" +1 V ('")+T

be briefly denoted by t", t'", &c. to t('"\ then from fornjula
ri) we derive the following series of equations:

±_J_4.il+-i
/ ~ 4i' "^ 4 ^2 '

1 1 , t" 1

r+-2X'

it' 4^1"
1

1 '

«"'

+-.

2.42

((m)

-1 (m)_l
C

m (m)

4 t

-1.

4 t 4 t 4 2.4

By adding the corresponding members of these equa-

L V 4 ■ 4^ ' 4
this identical equation holds true, m being any whole num-
ber wliatever.

Because 2 V=v-] , and 2V'=vJH , and2 V"=x)J

V i

1
-I , &c. V must always be a positive quantity ; but it may

be of any magnitude whatever: And as, whatever be the

value of 7), the terms of the series t», T) ',11 , Sec. approach
continually to 1, and very fast, if i/ be a large number, or a
small friction; therefore, the terms of the sciics V, V,
V", V'"', &c. continued indefinitely, approaches continually
to I , which is tlieir iimic.

To discover thfe- ratio according to which the terms of
the series t, «' t", 8cc. decrease; let us take any two suc-
V— I , „ V"— 1

tions into two sums, and rejecting what is common to both, needing terms, .'= .^^-j-^ and t" =yjrpr. the latterdivi-
we find

T+F"^4^

ded by the former is

t" V"_l V'+l V"=— 1. V'+l

4"»

T-<

2.4

2.4=

2.4'"-i

i' — V" + r V— 1 ( V" + 1 ) = v— 1 ■

But because 2 V"^= V'+l, we have V'^— 1 = J (V— l)j
therefore

i!l (V— i)CV'+i) V'+l

l' = 2(V"+1)'(V'— 1) ^ 2(V"+ I/'

Now, tirnuleral series being a geometrical progres- We have found that the qua.mties V, V', &c. approach

sion, of which the first term isi-, and last -i— and com- continually to 1 ; therefore the ratios^, ^ &c. approach

„ continually to J : hence it follows, that when any term t" is

; therefore, after sub- found to be nearly i of the term immediately before it, the

1 2

mon ratio — , its sum will be-- — •— —

4 o J . 4 *

stitution and transposition, we find

(3.)

1 2_ 2

but

1 C t 3 ^ 3.4"'

4m;(m) = J / i* t" t'" <;">) \

t~"iT+F + 4^' ■ ■ ■ '•■"4^/

Let us now assume that

2V = .+ 1.

Then2(V+ l)=i;+2+i-=^ -^* + i^j ;

2 (V + 1) = 4 V'2, therefore,

2V'=K*+-i.

In the very same manner it may be proved, that 2 V"

=a -y^s=— - ; and in general, putting n = 2*", that

■V*

1 1

2 v ("■) = v" + — :

and as z'"") = ,^,„, , , ; therefore,

same will be more nearly true of each of the following
terms.

From what has been shewn, it appears that the series of
formula (3.), y\z.

■J'+^+JT' ■ ■ +i^>
as it advances, approaches in its form to a geometrical pro-
gression, of which the common ratio of the adjoining terms
is -L. It will therefore converge very fast, so that, however
great the number of terms may be, a few terms at the begin-
ning will be nearly equal to its sum.

Let us now suppose that in formula (3), n is a very great
number, or even greater than any assignable number ;

1
then, as upon this supposition — can only be expressed by

1
0, we have v" + l=v'' +1 = 1 +1=2, and so the expres-

^ " will be simply, •

sion-

{<v''-l)\

In^v"-)} '

Also the

rW =

VC") +1
n— 2r''+ 1

( i Y

2 t f t'"

fraction — ^ will vanish, and the series — (— + 72 + 75" +

&c.) will go on ad i?{finitum, so that upon the whole we

have this rule.

To compute the value of the expressions (v " — 1), in

which V is any positive quantity, and n a very great num-

. y"+,.^"i"^ ^ ,^^ T^* , , . r ber, so as to admit of beiner reckoned greater than any as

By substitutmg this value of t^"'' m the denominator of gj^jjgble number,

the first member of equation (2), and n^ instead of its equi- ° ' j j

. . 1 . , 1. Compute V= —(^'-^ ).

valent 4"" ; and also puttmg for — Us value 2 ^ v '

^ 2. Also compute as many terms as may be necessary

/I'+l Y {v—iy+4v _ , 4v -„ I, fc of the series of quantities V, V" V', &c. from the for-

FLUXIONS.

123

V'=;/^", V"=v'-^-?-^'V"'=v'-^, Sec. each be-

ing formed from that before it, exactly according to the
same law.

3. Lastly, compute an equal numberof terms of the series
t'yft f'l £cc. from theformulse,

V' I V" — 1 V" ^1

"vqT' ~ v"+i ' v"'+ 1 '

«'=-

Then shall

I {y—\f ' 12
I t' i" t'"

1 n[v — 1 5
The series being supposed to proceed indefinitely.

JVote. When any term of the series is found to be nearly
Jj of the term before it, the remainder of the series may
be reckoned a geometrical progression, of which the com-
mon ratio is -^y and therefore its sum will be nearly = -^-^
of that term.

The formula gives the value of the square of the reci-
procal of the quantity to be found, but thence the quantity
itself may be readily obtained.

Calculation of the formula n (y"^l), supposing that

TU = 10.

In this case.

5.05

1.7392527130927

1.1703103676146

1.041707820748.

Vlv

1.01037315420..

1.0025899346...

v«

1.000647274

Vvn

1.000161805

-^ = .0833333333333

P =s Sum of positive terras, .2067901234568

^t' = .0168671164758

—t" = .0012261377606
43

Ji-t"' = .0000797965180
4«

— i>v = .0000050388826
4s

-Lt^ = .0000003157452
4«

— jvi = .0000000197469
4'

r 1

Jg. oi—fi nearly =-jr" = .0000000012344

Rem. of ser. nearly = ^.— jvn _ .0000000000823

N = Sum of negative terms, .0 1 8 1 784264458

P--N=

n(10^— 1)

.1886116970110

= .434294481903.

n(10n— 1)= 2,302585092994.

12. We have seen (Art. 10.) that in every system of
logarithms, of which the basis or radical number is b,

log. x=£l "iflziO,

x" 7«(6'"— 1)

m and ?» being any quantities, and r a certain unknown
quantity between 0 and 1. In Briggs' system, which is that
commonly in use. 6=10 ; and we have now found, that in
this case,

^ =2.302585092994=8.

b"^

Therefore the common logarithm of any number x is
1

n[xn ) jj. ^yg suppose e to be such a number that

x~B
1

m[em— ;_|^ which is evidently possible, then in a system
L 1
/"" . ... n(x"—\).
of logarithms, of which e is the basis, log.a;:= — ;

This is the system first invented by Napier, and now call-
ed by some the Napierean system. Since, therefore,

nix"— I) nib" n

— ^—^ -= Nap. long. X, similarly —i ;=Nap. log b.

Xn bn

Hence it appears, that the number B is the Napierean

logarithm of 10, so that e =10, and B x com. log. e =

1
common logarithm 10=1 ; and hence com. log. ?=•£-=

.434294481903. By inspecting a table of logarithms, it ap-
pears that e=2. 718282 nearly; its more accurate value
will appear hereafter to be e=2.7 1828 1828459. Let us
now denote the Napierean logarithm of any number x by
inclosing the symbol for the number in a parenthesis, and
putting the letter 1 before it thus, 1. (x). Then, from what
has been shewn in this article, we may infer, that in any sys-
tem of which the basis is b,

log.ar=:-^ > ;

(F)

x''\.{b)
and it is to be observed, that in Napier's system 1. (6)~1.

From this formula, and the series which we have found
for its developement in the preceding article, we may find
the logarithm of any number whatever. Another deve-
lopement of the same quantity will be given as an exem-
plification of the application of the fluxional calculus,
which, however, does not converge so fast as that here
given. The series more commonly known for the loga-
rithm of a number, will also be investigated in the sequel.

13. We are now prepared to investigate the general ex-
pression for the ratio of the increments of logarithmic and
exponential functions, and begin with u ^ log. x. Let us
suppose, that when x becomes x-\-h, then u becomes k',
hence, putting B for 1. (6), (that is, for the Napierean
logarithm of the basis of the system), we have, by for-
mula (F),

_w(x" — 1) n $ {x+h) " — 1 ^
~~ z. ' u' :^. :: ;

B(x-J-A)S-

124

and therefore,

B!i'(j:+/<)S'— n ^{x-\-h)n—\l ;
and taking the difference, and dividing by /;,

But, by formula (B), (Art. 7.) the second member of this

equation is equal to

± (x+h-) '='(i— 0 , , . .
^n — 1 -j C \- being a quantity between

0 8c 1). Therefore,

^u'{x+h)n — ux^\ ^ 5£±^'> ^(S— 0

FLUXIONS.

pose, change u into A, also b into a, and B into A, (that is,
I (*) into I (a)) and it becomes A ~ , or putting

Aan

* ^ vCot ^— . I ^

for the present A' — Aa~, wo have h:^— — 77-—; and

(A'h t" / \' /i \ "

IH —j ; and a'' — 1 — [1 + ^ — )~'-

Now we have found (art. 7.) that

X ) '''

therefore, putting in this expression 1 instead of x, and

A' h

instead of A and 2' for a certain quantity between 0 and

n
1, we get

As we are at liberty to suppose n as great as we please,
and as z and z' are always of an intermediate magni-
tude between 0 and 1 ; if wc suppose n to be very great, but since f 1 + — f = a* , the second member of the

(.+^Y-.=A.(,+^')"-'*.

, and -^ may be each reckoned ~0, and then

1 ? L <^x+A ) £

(x-i-h)" , jT" , x" , and i —^ f " are each to be acco'unted

^ I ; our formula becomes now simply,
B(a'— «)_ -iC.r+Ai-'^

h — -^ ^^~3 '
and hence, substituting for u' and u their values,

log.(-r+A)— log.x_ I (G)

A ~Ba:i--'(:r+A)*"

From this formula we see, that the function which ex-

above equation is also equal to

A'Aa'^*

A'A\^
putting for A' the expression it denotes, we get

(■-f]

; therefore after

a'*— 1 —

zh
A ha n a»'A

Now, as we have it in our power to make n as great as
we

presses the ratio of the increments of log. x, and x, has '"^ P'^"*^^' '*=' "^ suppose it a very great number ; then

the general properties which we have shewn in Art. 7. to zh — AhalT

belong to the function which expi esses the ratio of the ~ ""^y "^ reckoned — 0, and a " ZI I, and z: 0,

increments of x" and x ; but that the expression for its thus we have simply a* — 1 = A A a^*. (I)

boundaries has a different form. If we make z'zZO, we and as a^'-—a' =a' (a* —1), it follows, that

get:^ for one boundary ; and if we make 2'— 1, we have

^^h.

Bx
1

-— A(2*a»^''.

(K)

for the other boundary ; and between these, the

R . , ,-, ...-. ^^u..ua.j. , ..Mu uci.vcci. uicsc, i.ic ^' !if'"g' 3S already stated, a quantity between 0 and 1.

li i^x-^/i) f )^js expression for the ratio of the increments of a*

value of the function expressing the ratio is always con- and x agrees in its general properties with that for the

tained. Or we may indicate both boundaries at once, by ratio of x" and x, (art. 7.) Its boundaries found by mak-

tliU pvnrpesinn __^L^^ ,..!.«..» ii„ o r^ . ingz'zTO and z'zz 1 are A a-^ a" and A c*' a* ; therefore,

this expiession ^^^_^,^,y where A ,s some quantity greater jf \,^ p^^ ^, j-^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^.^^ ^^^^^^^^ ^ ^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^j^^^J

, . , , 11 have

than 0, and less than A; and, again, as ^,— „a+A „x

J ^ + A' X h =Aa*a*'- (K')

- -f- H, where H is put for a quantity that has And as again, by equation (I) of this article, «*'=! -f AA'

a==''', if we put H~.\ A'a^*', where H denotes a quar.tity
that vanishes when A' or A~0, we shall also have this for-

Qa+A — qJT

inula : =Aa*-fH. (K")

x(^-fA')" X

the property of vanishing whenA'or A — 0 ; we have also

log.(j7-f-/;) lotl.JT 1 1

~~h ^-bF+/7)-b^ + " (^')

14. Next let the function be a^, where a denotes a con-
stant positive quantity, and x any variable quantitv. When
X chancres to x-|-A, then a^ changes to C'^'^''— a^a* ; there-
fore a*^* — a''zza'{af' — 1).

We have found (art. 9, and art. 12.) that if x— 4" , then investigate in each case an expression for the ratio of the

increments of the function, and of the arc, which we con-

15. We come now to the circular functions sin. x, and
cos. x^ that is, the sine and cosine of x, an arc of a circle,
the radius of which we shall assumed 1 ; and we are to

.w(x"— 1)

Bxn

, n being any number, and z a certain quan-

tity between 0 and 1, andB=l (b). In this formula following series of equations,
put 6" instead of its representative jT, and it becomes M— '^:- '-.- ^ • — ■

sider as its variable basis.

Supposing X and a to be any arcs, from the fourth of
formulas (C) Arithmetic of Sines, Art. 12. we derive the

n (bn — 1)

B4~

To adapt this expression to our present pur-

Sin. (j^-f2 d) — sin. x'^.1 sin. a cos. (x-j-a),

Sin. (:i+'* °) — sin. (r-f 2 a)-=.'2, sin. a cos. (x-(-3 a).

Sin. (x-j-6 a) — sin. (-r-)-4 u)~2 sin. a cos. (x-f-5 c),

FLUXIONS.

125

Sin. (j:+2«a)— sin. jx + i(n'—\)al z^

2 sin. a cos. < x+ (2 n — 1) Sa; the number of equations be- . .

ing n. Cos. x — cos. (a:-f-2 n a)zZ sin. (x+N a)2 n sin. a ;

By taking the sums of tlie con-esponding members of _ ;^

these equations, and rejecting the quantities found with As in last article, put A— 2?ja, then aiz/i—, and Na~
opposite signs, we find

Sin. (x-i-2 no) — sin. jr~

2 sin. a < cos. (x+a) + cos. (x+5 a) + cos. {x+5 a) +

+ COS. (jc+ [2 71 — 1] a) ? .

Now, if the greaitst term of this series of cosines be
multiplied by the number of terinb, the product will be a
quantity evidently greater than theii- sum ; and if the least
term be nuUiiplied by their number, the product will be a
quantity less than their sum ;* tlierefore, between the
greatest and least, there must be some cosine of an inter-
mediate magnitude, such, that if it be multiplied by the
number of terms, the product will be exactly equal to
their sum. This quantity will have the form cos. (jr-j-Na)
where N is some positive quantity of an intermediate
magnitude between the co-cfficients of a in the greatest
and least terms of the series ; it must therefore be less
than 2 n : We have now

sin.(i;-<-Q) + sin.(j;-)-3a)+

-f-sin. <x-{-{2n — l)a> ~nsin.(a;-f-Na);

N N

— -A : Putzfor— , so that z will always be a positive

quantity less than 1. Then making the proper substitu-
tions, and also putting n instead ol 2 n, wc get from last
equation,

Cos. {x-\-h) — cos. x~ — sin (x-\-z li)n sin. — ;

and in this expression, n may be any positive number what-
ever.

17. It is an axiom in geometry, that any arc which
does not exceed a quadrant is of an intermediate magni-
tude between its sine and tangent. Now, z being put
for some fraction between 0 and 1 , and v for an arc less

than a quadrant, the expression

may denote any

Cos. {x-\-a) -\- COS. (x-\-Z a) . . . -t- cos. < x-{-{2n — \)a >

~ n COS. (.■>;+ N a) ; and hence
Sin. {x+2 n a) — Sin. x ^ cos. (:r+N a) 2 n sin. a.

Let us now put A ~ 2 n a ; then a ~ — , and N n ~

N . N

—h ; as N is always less than 2 n,-~ will be a positive frac-
tion less than 1, let us denote it by z, and also let us put
n' or rather n instead of 2 n, and upon the whole we shall
have

Sin. (x+h) — sin.j;~cos. (x-\-zh) n sin. — ,

and in this formula n may be any positive number what-
ever.

16. By the second of formulse (C) Arithmetic of Sines,
art. 12. we have the following series of equations,
Cos. X — coa. (x+2a) — 2sin. a sin.(x-f-a),
Cos. {^x+2a) — cos. (x + 4a) — 2 sin. a sin.(x-}-3a),
Cos. (a?-f.4a)— cos. (x-f 6a) — 2sin. o sin.(x-i-5a).

Cos.

x+2(n — \)a i — cos.{x +2na)^Z,
2sin. a sin. j x+{2n — I)a i ;

cos. (x-f-: /;).

(L)

the number of equations being n. Hence, by adding as in
last article, we i^et
COS. a: — cos. (x+ 2?!a)^

2 sin.c j sin.(x4-a)-f sin.(a;-f3a)-{-sin.(a;+5a)+

.... +sin. (x-f [2n — l]a)?

As the sum of this series of sines will be less than the
greatest term multiplied by the number of terms, and
greater than the least term multiplied by the same num-
ber, it must be exactly equal to some quantity of an inter-
mediate magnitude multiplied by that number. Tliis quan-
tity may evidently have the form sin. (x-f-Na). where N is supposed to decrease indefinitely ; and if we make 2:^1,
denotes a positive quantity less than 2n ; we have therefore we get cos. (x+h) and — sin. (x+h) for another bounda-

• In the series of arcs x-f-a, x+3 a, x-\-5 a, &c. the cosines of those less than a quadrant will be positive quantities ; and the cosines of
those greater than a quadrant, but less than three quadrants, will be negative. Here we reckon th^t to be the gi-eatcst term which is near-
est to-f-1 : and that to be the least which is nearest to— I.

COS. (2 v)

quantity between sin. v and tan. v ; because when 2~0 it

. sin. 7' , , . , sin. v
becomes ; and when 2~1 it becomes ~tan. v ;

1 COb.!"

therefore while z increases from 0 to 1 , the expression
will increase from sin. v to tan. v, and will have succes-
sively every degree of intermediate magnitude. Hence

we may assume that %»" r — ri z being a fraction be-

cos. {zv) °

tween 0 and 1. Then sin. vzZ'v cos. (zv). Instead of v

A , , . h h /z \ , . It

put -, and we have sin. -zz- cos. ( - A ) and n sm. — ~ A

n n n \n I n

COS. (~AJ. Now vire are at liberty to suppose n as great

as we please, therefore the fraction - may be as small, and

cos. |-A J may differ from unity by as little as we please,

and so n being indefinite, in respect of magnitude, we may

express n sin. - by the arc A. We then get from the two

formulae,

Sin. [x-\-li) — sin. a-~cos. (x-\-z h) n sin. -

Cos. (-i-f A) — cos. .r~ — sin. (x-j-2 A) n sin. -,

these others :

Sin. {x-\-h) — sin. x

Cos. (x-\-!i) — cos.ar . , . .v
i^ — ■ — ZH — sin. \x-\-zli).

Observing always that 2 is a positive fraction less than
unity. And these expressions are the boundaries to the
ratio of the increments, which we proposed to investi-
gate.

If we put 2~0, we get cos. x and — sin. x for one boun-
dary to the functions which express the ratios; these quan-
tities are manifestly limits to which they approach when A

126

FLUXIONS.

vy : so tliat llic first of the two functions is always between
COS. .V and cos. (x+/i); and may be expressed generally
thus, COS. (a-f/;'), // being some arc between 0 and /;; and
the other is between — sin. x. and — sin. (j?+A)' ^'"' "^^'X
similarly be expressed by — sin. (.r+//) : And as, by the
Annii.MKTic OF Sines, art. 12. formulae (D).

. / /)'\ . h'

Cos. (x+A')— cos. x—2 sin. lx + y j **'"• "J

/ /i'\ . h'
Sin. (j:+//)zrsm.x+2cos. \x-\- —\ sm--^-

If we put II to denote briefly the expression

— 2 sin. \x-\- — ) sin.—, and H' to denote

2 COS. \x-\ ) sin. — , where it is manifest that H and

ir are quantities which vanish, when /;, and consequently
■when h' — 0, we have also
Sin. {x-\-h') — sin, x

-~ cos. x-\-\\

CL')

Cos. fx+A') — cos. X . , ,,,

i — ! — '- :n — sin. :ir+lrl'

h '

18. We shall now bring into one point of view the dif-
ferent expressions for the ratio of the corresponding incre-
ments of the five simple functions considered in this sec-
tion.
(x+A)"— x»_.^ (x+A')''-i=ra x«-i + H ;

Ice;. (j-fA) — log.jr_ 1_ 1 TT.

T" ~ B Cx-J-A')~ B x"*" '

^Z= A a'+^'zi A a'-- + H ;

sin. {x-\-li) — sin. x

A '

cos. (x-|-A) — '

algebraic function a" ; and in the sattic manner it will ap-
pear that the property belongs to every expression, com-
posed in any manner whatever, by the operations of addi-
tion, subtraction, multiplication, and division, from the five
elementary functions we have been considering; so that
we may regard it as belonging to all functions whatever of
a variable quantity x.

To express the proposition analytically under this ex-
tended form, it will be convenient to adopt a swituable no-
tation ; therefore, like as we have denoted the sine of an
arc by the symbol sin. x, and the logarithm of x by log.
X, also by 1 (x), so we may now denote any function what-
ever, of a variable quantity x, by the symbol /(x), or F
{x): and here it must be observed, that the letter / or !■'
is not to be considered as a co-efficient, but as a charac-
teristic, indicating that the expression/ (x) is formed in a
determinate manner from the variable quantity x, and con-
stant quantities. And as, by substituting x-\-hi instead of
Xi in the expression log. x it becomes log. (.r-f A), so,
when x-\-h is substituted instead of x in the expression y
(x), it becomes then/ (x+A).

Employing this notation, we may consider the following
general analytical fact as sufficiently established.

Lety"(x) denote any expression or function formed from
a variable quantity or, and constant quantities. Suppose x
to be augmented by the increment A, so as to become x-\-h;
by which the function will change its value, and become
f{x-\-li) : Then, in every case,

—cos. (jT-f A')^cos. 3.-+H ;
: — sin. (x-f-A')^ — sin. .r-f H ;

and in each of these expressions. A' is some quantity great-
er than 0 and less than A.

By comparing these formulae, it appears that the five
functions,

j;" , log. :r, a^' , sin. x, cos. .r,
have the following common properties: — ,

1. The expression for the ratio of the increment of each
function to the increment of the variable quantity x, which
serves as its basis, is always a finite quantity contained be-
tween two determinate boundaries.

2. The expression for each ratio may be resolved into
two parts, one of whicli is independent of the increment
A, and the other is a function of a- and A, of such a nature,
that it is always finite while A is finite, and vanishes when
A=0.

3. From this last property, the function which expresses
each ratio has always a limit to which its value approaches,
as h decreases, and to wliich it may come nearer than by
any assignable quantity ; and it appears that in the case of
the function x" , this limit is n jr"-i ; in the function log.

X the limit is -- — , B being the Napierean logarithm of the

base. In the function a* the limit is A fi^ , A being the
Napierean logarithm of a; and, lastly, in the two functions
sin. X and cos. x, the limits are cos. x and — sin. x respec-
tively ; so that each limit is a new function of .r, peculiar
to the original function from which it is derived. We have
seen, (art. 8.) that the property of the limiting ratio ex-
tends to the algebraic functions A x^-j-Bx"''-}-, 8cc. and

Ax'" + Bx'"'-f,'&c. ... ,. .. . ,

, , , — , which arc composed from the simple

ex" -f 6.r'' -f, &c. ' * '

/(x+A>-/(x).

=/'+H ;

(M)

where /! is a new function of x, which is independent of
h; and H is a function of x and A, which has the property
of vanishing when A— 0 : So that /i is a limit to wliich the
function which expresses the ratio continually approaches,
as h decreases.

19. The proposition maybe put under another form.
For from the formulae which express the ratio of the incre-
ments, we have also these,

{^•VhY ^x" -f n x-n-Vi-f H A,

Log. (x-+A)=log.x-f^-fHA,

ci^^rra^ -f- A a^ A -f H A,

Sin. (x-|-A)— sin. x-f A cos. x-|-H A,

Cos. (x-j-A)zzcos. X — Asin. x-f-HA,
and, in general,

/(x-fA)=/(x)-F/iA+HA. (N.)

From these formulae we learn, that, if iny(x), any func-
tion of a variable quantity, we substitute x-\-h instead of
X, A being some quantity independent of x, then/(x+A),
the new value of tlie function, is equivalent to an expres-
sion, one term of which isy"(x), the original function ; ano-
ther,/; A, is the product of the first power of A by/i, some
function of x whicli is quite iiidependent of A, and derives
its form from that of the original function, and is deduci-
ble from it : and the remainder of the expression, viz. H A,
is the product of A by H, a function ot x and A, which is
finite, while A has a finite value, but which vanishes when
A=0.

In the expression

/(x+A)=/Cx)-f/!A-f-HA,
the function fi may be made the object of analytical inves-
tigation ; but as ji is also the limit of the ratio

f{x^)-

^=.+H;

to determine that limit, and to find the co-eflicient of the
simple power of A in the developement ofy"(x+A), are the
same analytical problem.

The property of a limit, which we have proved to be-

FLUXIONS.

127

long to every variable function, affords a foundation for an
analytic theory of great extent and importance. Its object
is twofold :

1, To determine the limit to the ratio of the increments
in any proposed function.

2. To determine, on the other hand, the function, hav-
ing given the limit to the ratio of the increments.

This theory, considered under different points of view,
is the method oi fluxions of Newton, and the diffcrtntial
calculus of Leibnitz.

20. In explaining the method of fluxions, Newton, and
almost all writers on the subject in this country, have em-
ployed considerations drawn from the theory of motion.
According to their view of the subject, in order to repre-
sent a quantityy(jr) as a function of another variable quan-
tity x, two points c and C are supposed to start at the same
insiaiit from the positions a. A, and to move along the
lines ax, AX :

-X

One of them, c, is supposed to move vmiformly, and a c,
the distance it has gone in any time, is taken as a geome-
trical expression for x : The motion of the other point, C,
is supposed to be so regulated, that AC, the distance it
has gone in the same time, may represent the function y
(x) : If, for example, y(a;)~.r-; then the number which
expresses the line AC will always be the square of the
number which expresses a c.

It is easy to see that there is no function whatever of a
variable quantity which may not be conceived to be gene-
rated in this manner. And it also appears that while the
point f that generates x moves uniformly, the point C that
generates the function /(.f) will move faster or slower, ac-
cording to the nature of the function, but never uniformly,
except in the case when f{x) has a constant ratio to x. In
some cases it will continually increase, and in others it will
decrease, or it may first increase, and then decrease, or
x'ice versa, according to the particular nature of the func-
tion, whicli expresses the law of the motion.

21. Let us now enquire how these velocities, or the
rates according to which the variable quantities increase
and decrease, may be determined ; and to fix our ideas, let
us take the particular case of y"(.r)^,r^, so that the line
AC is always the third power of the line a c.
bed

n 1 1 I r

-' X.

Let us su])pose that in two equal succeeding portions of
time, the point that generates x passes over tlic lines b c,
c d, which will be equal, because the motion is uniform;
also, that in the same equal intervals of time, the point
which generates /(x) passes over the correspondinp; lines
BC, CD; these will be unequal, and the latter greater
than the former; because when x has the successive va-
lues 1, 2, 3, 4, &c. which increase uniformly, the corres-
ponding values ofy(.r) are 1, 8, 27, 64, Sec. which increase
faster and faster. Let v and V denote the very velocities
with which the generating points arrive at c and C, and s
the space which would be described by the point C if it
were to move with the velocity V, constant, during one of
the equal intervals of lime in which it actually describes
the spaces BC, CD, with a variable velocity ; then, be-
cause in the same time, the point c has described the
equal spaces b c, cd with the constant velocity v, we have,

by the principles of motion, — IIIt— ~— ;. Now, the line
' ' V b c cd

BC being described with a variable velocity, thai is al-
ways less than \', and CD with a variable velocity that is
always gl-eater than V ; the line HC will be less than «,

and the line CD greater than .v, and consequently — , will

and — - will be crrculcr tluin
cd

be'
there-

. V
fore —

This is evidently true, not

be less than —
0 c

BC ,V CD

be -u c d

only of /(,r)— z', but of every function whatever gene-
rated with an increasing velocity. If, however, the velo-
city decrease, then, by a like mode of reasoning, it will be

r 1 .u . V ^ BC , V CD ^ ,
lound that — .£:!-—, and — "ip^ — -: So that, in every
■V 0 c V c d

case the ratio of the velocities of the generating points at
any contemporaneous position, is always between the ratio
of any finite increments generated in an interval of time
that ended when they arrived at tlial i)osition, and the ra-
tio of any finite increments generated in an interval of lime
that began when they left it; that is, the ratio of the velo-
cities is greater than the one, but less thai* the other of
these ratios; provided that while tlie increments are de-
scriljed, the velocities are always increasing, or always de-
creasing.

We have observed that the succeeding increments BC,
CD generated in the same time must be unequal, because
of the acceleration or retardation of the motion ; the less,
however, these increments are taken, the less will be the
effect of the acceleration or retardation, and the more
rtfrarly will the ratio of the lines BC, CD approach to mat
of equality : Hence it follows, that, by continually dimi-

nishing the increments, the two ratios

and

Trf'

may
V

be as nearly equal as we please ; and as the ratio

is always between them, it must be a limit to both. There-
fore, the ratio of the velocities of the generating points at
any instant, is the limit of the ratio of the increments ge-
nerated in any interval of time immediately preceding or
succeeding that instant.

22. It appears, therefore, that the Newtonian mode of
conceiving a variable quantity, and its function to change
their value, gives rise to, and brings under contemplation,
another class of quantities, namely, the velocities of the
motions of the generating points; or the rates according
to which the variable quantities increase or decrease. The
variable quantities themselves have been called Flonoing
Quantities, also Fluents ; and the velocities of the points
which generate the variable quantities, have been called
their Fluxions.

Although it must be allowed that a correct notion may
be formed of the fluxion of a variable quantity from this
definition, yet it has been rejected by all the foreign writers
on the subject, and by some of the English: For it has
been justly observed, that to introduce motion into a cal-
culus which treats of algebraic quantities, is to bring in an
idea quite foreign to the subject ; and, moreover, according
to this view of the matter, all qu.intities ought in strictness
to be represented by lines; a mode of reasoning which,
although accurate, is nevertheless inconvenient.

We have seen (Aricle 21.) that the determination of
the velocities with which variable qutmtities are generated,
leads us naturally to the limiting ratio of their correspond-
ding increments, so that tlie fact, that every variable quan-
tity has something related to it, which may be made the
subject of mathematical investigation, namely, the velocitv
with which it increases, resolves itself ultimately into this
other fact, that there is a certain determinable limit to the

128

FLUXIONS.

ratio of the coiresponding increinents of a function, and
the variable (jiiantity from wl;ich it is furnied.

Wc have found that the existence of iliis ratio, and the
manner of finding it, rests upon principles purely analyti-
cal. It seems, therefore, to have been entirely without ne-
cessity, that motion has ever been employed in explaining
the thcoiy of fluxions; and although wc shall retain the
terms Fluxion and Fluent^ because no good puipose could
be answered by exchanging them for others, we shall not
hesitate to reject the cumbersome apparatus of reasoning,
as well as the incommodious notation hitherto employed
in this country, and adopt the more legitimate theory and
convenient notation of the foreign writers.

Definitions and A'otation.

23. Resuming the formula

/Xx+h)-f(x)

=/i+H,

in which y"x denotes any function of a variable quantity x ;
h the increment of x ; f{x-\-li) the new value of the
function when x chang-cs to x-\-h ; fi that part of the ge-
neral expression for the ratio which is independent of A,
and which is always a new function of x, deducible from
the original function /(jr) ; and H the other part of the
expression which vanishes when /i=0; and contemplating
the analytical fact, that supposing h to decrease, the ratio

■ approaches continually to the ratio of ft to

1; we shall call this last the Ftuxionat Ratio. According

to this definition, as in the functions" , we have found that

{xA-h")" x"

^ ^ ^ - = n ^r'l-'+H, (art. 7.), therefore

Fluxion of {x") : Fluxion o{ x :•. n x"-
and in general

Fluxion of y (a-) . Fluxion oi x : : fi i 1 ;
from which it follows, that

Fluxion of (or") = n x"-^ x (Fluxion of x),

and in general, fluxion of j f (x) > =/; x fluxion of x.

By this definition, the quantity/; enters ahvays as a co-
efficient into the expression for the fluxion of the function;
we shall therefore call it the Fluxional Co-efficient.

From this view of the subject, the fluxions of a function
is not an absolute, but a relative quantity, which depends
upon, and is co-existent with another quantity of the same
kind, namely, the fluxion of the variable quantity x, from
which the function is formed. We may therefore define
the fluxions of a variable quantity, and any function of that
quantity to be any indefinite quantities which have to each
other the limiting ratio of their simultaneous increments.

The difl'erent views which Newton and Leibnitz took
of this theory, and the claim of each to the invention, pro-
duced at first two distinct modes of notation, an inconve-
nience which the party spirit engendered by the dispute
has rendered permanent. Newton at difl'erent times used
different modes of notation ; but that which he prefered,
and which has been followed in general in Britain, was to
denote the fluxion of a variable quantity by the letter which
denotes the quantity, with the addition of a point over it ;
thus the fluxion of x is expressed by the character x, that
of u by u, and so on.

Leibnitz and his adherents, on the other hand, having
given Ihe name differential to what Newton called a fluxion,
they chose to denote it by prefixing the letter d (the first
letter of the word) to the letter indicating the variable
quantity : Thus what Newton expressed by x and I'l, they
expressed by dx and du.

In the first applications of this theory, it seems to have
been a matter of indifference which of the two notations,
was employed. However, in the more extended applica-
tions of the science, the foreign notation appears to have
been found the most convenient ; for the best writers abroad,
and particularly the celebrated Eulcr, who has improved
this theory more than any other individual, have adopted it.
The almost complete extinction of the dispute concerning
the first invention of fluxions; the difl'erent views which
have been taken of the subject; and more particularly the
admirable discoveries of Euler, Lagrange, Legendre, La
Place, and others, which have been consigned to posterity
in tlie langauge of the foreign notation, and not yet
expressed in that of Britain, have rendered the foreign
notation quite familiar to mathematical readers in all coun-
tries ; and in this country they seem to have produced a
disposition in some to adopt it in preference to that hitherto
employed. We are even disposed to think, that the in-
commodiousness of the British notation is the main reason,
why so few improvements in this branch of mathematical
science have been made in the country.

Viewing the matter thus, we do not scruple to adopt the
foreign notation, as employed by the latest and best writers
on this subject Wo accordingly shall denote the fluxions
of X and u by dx and du respectively ; and it must be
carefully observed, that the letter d prefixed to a quantity,
does not mean a product of which rf is a factor: the letter
is prefixed to the quantity to indicate its fluxion, just as
the letter r, which has since degenerated into the radical
sign, was originally prefixed to a quantity to indicate its
square root.

In expressing the powers of d x, the fluxion of a quan-
tity X. we shall denote its second power by rfx', its third
by d x^, and, in general, its rath power dy dx".

By such an expression as d(a-{-bx-{-cx^), is meant the
fluxion of the compound expression a-\-bx-\-cx^ .

The fluxion of the sine of an arc may be expressed thus,
d(sin. x); and the same notation may be followed with
respect to the curve, tangent. Etc. Similarly the fluxion
of/'(x), any function of a variable quantity x, may be in-
dicated thus, d \ f(x) > .

24. The theory of fluxions resolves itself into two prin-
cipal enquiries.

First, Having given the relation of two variable quan-
tities to find the relation of their fluxions. This branch
has been called by the English writers, the Direct Method
of Fluxions, and by foreigners T/ie Differential Calculus.

Secondly, Having given the relation of the fluxions of
two variable quantities, to determine thence the relation of
the variable quantities themselves. This has been called
in Britain the Inverse Method, and abroad the Integral Cal-
culus. We proceed to treat of these in their order.

SECTION II.

Of the Direct Method oj Fluxions.

25. In the direct method of fluxions, the first object of
inquiry is, how to find the fluxion of any proposed function

/ (x) relatively to the variable quantity x, which is regard-
ed as its basis. The solution indicated by the definitions
and notation is evidently this: Find the fluxional coefficient;
viultijibj it by the arbitrary symbol d x, which denotes the

fluxion of the variable quantity x ; and the firoduct Kill be
the fluxion sought. Hence, the whole difficulty rests upon
finding the fluxional coefficient.

We have investigated the fluxional coefficient in five
different cases, which comprehend all the elementary func-

FLUXIONS.

I2y

tlons of a general form, usually admitted into analysis. As
we wish to investigate the binomial theorem and the series
for logarithms, also the series for sines and cosines, by the
theory of fluxions, we could not legitimately avail ourselves
of their aid in establishing its principles, and therefore we
have supplied the want of them by analytical artifices. In
particular algebraic functions, however, the fluxional co-
efticient is easily found. Let us take, for example, the
function x3 -. By substituting x+fi for x, it becomes x^ +

2x^h + 2x h^+h^. Therefore

(x+/i) —x^ _

— Zx^ +

(3 X -\-/i)h. By comparing this with the general formula
/(g-f/.)— /x__^_^^^ ^^^ j.^^ H = (3x+/0A, and the

A
fluxional co-efficient fiZZSx^. Hence, the fluxion of x
is 3 x^ dx. In the case of other integer powers of x, the
fluxional co-efficient and the fluxion are found with equal
facility. Thus we have, in like manner,

(^jr+/,)* — x^ = 4 x3+ (6 x^ +4 .r h+/r )h ;

and hence, in the case of the function x*, we have H =
(6 -c^ +4 X h+/i^) h, and the fluxional co-efficient fi=4Lx'i
and therefore d (x*)=:4x^ dx.

In these two examples, we have determined not only /i,
the fluxional co-efficient, but also H, that part of the ex-
pression for the ratio which vanishes when /;=0. Now
this we do not want ; all we have occasion for, is that part
of the ratio which is independent of h.

Let the preceding equation be put under the form,
(x+/i)'^—x*+4 x3/i -f (6 x'^ + ix h+W ) //,

f(x-i-li) fx

and the general formula, — '- — ^^ ::z/i + H, under

the form

f {x+h)=/ {x)+fi h+n n,

and it will appear that the rule for finding the fluxional
co-efficient may be expressed thus:

Substitute x-fh in the function instead of x; then find
that term of its new value which is the product of the first
/iower ofh atid p, a quantity quite independent ofh, reject-
ing the terms which contain the higher fiowcrs of h, and in
general every quantity, which f although it be multiplied by h,
yet vanishes when h=0; and p shall be the fiuxional co-
efficient ; also the fiuxion of the function will be iimnedi-
ately obtained by putting d x in that term instead of h.

26. We shall now exemplify the general rule in finding
the fluxions of the functions a;" , log. x, a^ , sin. x, and
cos. X.

I. Let w— x" , n being any constant quantity. By sub-
stituting x-{-h for X, the function becomes (x+A)". Now,

(x-f/i)" —X" -f-nx^-'A-f-H h. (Art. 19.)
Here, ?2x"~'A is the only part of this expression that con-
sists of the first power of h multiplied by a co-efficient
which is independent of h; therefore, in this case, p, the
fluxional co-efficient, is nx"— i; and changing A into d x, we
have

d uzznx^~^d X.
Hence this rule,

The fluxion of x" , any constant power of a variable
quantity, is tin comiiiual product of the exponent ; a power
of the same qiumtify, whose index is one less than the in-
dex of tht^ power proposed ; and the fluxion of the quantity.

IL Let t/— log. X. Then,

log. (x+A)r:log.x+-|~-fHA; (Art. 19.)

Her'- A denotes the basis of the system, and I. {6), the Na-
VoL. IX. Part I.

pierean logarithm of 6. Thcrefore,inthi.s case, the fluxional
co-efficient is — t-ttt, and

xl.(6)'

duZ^

Hence this rule,

d X
(B)

The fluxion of the logarithm of a variable number x is
a fraction whose numerator is the fluxion of the number,
and denominator is the product of the number by the Na-
pierean logarithm of the basis of the system.

Note In the Napierean system, l.(A)^:l. In the

common system we have found, (Art. 12.),
1. (6)lZ2.3025850y2994:=B.

— 7-^0.43429448 1903=-r;-.
1.(6) B

III. Let the function be u:z:a'*,a being constant, and x
variable. We have found that

a*+A=a*-l-a«'l.(o)A + HA, (art. 19.)
Therefore, in this case, the fluxional co-efficient /;—
a'*' 1. (a), and

duz^a^ d X h(a).

This expression gives the following rule :

The fluxion of a variable power of a constant quantity is
the continual product of that power ; the Napierean loga-
rithm of the constant quantity; and the fluxion of the vari-
able exponent.

IV. Next, let x'^:sin.x,uzZcos. X, then we have (art. 19.)
Sin. (x-|-A):3sin.x+A cos. x-f-HA ;

Cos. (x-fA):^ COS. X — A sin. x-f H A.
In the first of these expressions, the fluxional co-efficient is
COS. X, and in the second it is — sin. x ; therefore,

rf D:^d (sin. x)~rf X cos. X ;

rf u:z:rf (cos. x)~ — d X sin. x.
In determining the limit of the ratio of the increments
of the sine or cosine of an arc to that of the arc itself,
(article 17.), we have considered the arc as the variable
basis, and the sine and cosine as its function. But it is easy
to see from the expression for the ratios, that the limit will
be the very same, if on the contrary we consider the sine
or the cosine as the variable basis, and the arc as the func-
tion. Since, then, upon the first hypothesis, we have the

fluxional ratios

d (sin. x)

cos. X, and

d(cos.x)

— sm.x;

dx ~ ' "" dx

we have, upon the other hypothesis, the fluxional ratios,
dx 1 dx

d (sin. x)~~ cos. x ' d (cos. x) sin. x

Or, putting u instead of x, reserving x to denote the varia-
ble basis of the function,

du 1 d u 1

d (sin. ii) COS. k' rf(cos. w) sin. u

Now put sin. u^x, then cos. uzz^ (1 — x*), and from
the first of these formulae we have,

du 1 , J _ '^^^

— ^r — 5T-; and du^: — r-, ^•

rfx x/(l— x^)' ^(1— X-)

Next, let COS. if^x', then sin. zi~V'(l — x'^,) and from
the second formula we have

du —1 , _, dx'

^.I^ r^i and duZ^ 7- -rrr.

dx' V{^—^ ) -v/Cl— -^ )

Hence the following rule, which applies alike, whether
the sine and cosine be considered as functions of the arc;
or the arc be considered as a function of the sine or of the
cosine.

130

FLUXIONS.

(D)
The fluxion of tlie sine is cc]ual to the fluxion of the arc
imiltiplicd by the cosine : and Uie fluxion of the arc is equal
to the fluxion of the sine divided by the cosine.

The fluxion of the cosine is equal to the fluxion of the
arc inultiplird by the sine, and tlie nci^ative sine prefixed
to the result: and tlie fluxion of tlie arc is equal to the
fluxion of the cosine (with the sine — ) divided by the sine.
27 Let V and u be any functions of .r, and let it be pro-
posed to find the flu.iion oi ijZZa + bv — c u. where a, b, c,
denote constant quantities.

Let fi and/i' be the fluxional co-efficients of xi and u re-
spectively. Then, (art. 19.) when j7 becomes x-fA,
XI becomes v-\-fih-\-\\li,
and u becomes zi-|-///i+H'/i.
Where H and H' denote quantities composed of jc and
//, which have the properly of vanisliing when /;— 0 : Let
us suppose tl at when x becomes .r+A, then y becomes i/',
then

y'ZZa -f b {v +11 h -f \\h)—c{u+fi'/i + H'/i)
■—a + bv—cu + {b)i—cli')h + {bl\—cl\'}li;
that is y'—tj-\-[bli—c}i'Ji + l\"Ih
where 11" is put for AH — cll'.

Hence it appears, that the fluxional co-cfBcient of y is
bji — f/i', and therefore dy:^{b/i — c/t')iUz:b/icLt — c/i'dx : But
fi and /i' beinp; the fluxional co-eflicients of v and u, fidx'ZZ
(!v, and Ji'd.v:zzdu ; thtr fore

dyZZJadv — bdii.
Hence this rule,

The fluxion of a function which consists of several terms,
is the sum of the fluxions of the terms, each retaining the
sicjn and co-efiicient of the term.

Note. — The fluxion of a constant term is to be reckon-
ed =0.

28. It may perhaps appear almost self-evident, that if
tvvoTunctions of the same variable quantity be equal, their
fluxions will also be equal. We shall, however, demon-
strate this proposition, because of its great importance in
the theory.

Let the two functions bey"(.i) and F(j:-), which we sup-
pose are always equal, although they may be of a different

2
form : For example, y(x) may be i^-^ :, and F (.r) —

1 — x-^'

C l — x l+x
bers of the identical equation

f , two expressions which form the mem-

1 X" 1 .V l-{-x

Let/! be the fluxional co-efficient of/(.r), and/;' that of
F(r) ; then when x becomes x-{-h,f(x) becomes /[x + h)
ZZ.fx+/t/t + Hh, and F(x) becomes F{x+/i):^F(x)-{-fi'
/i-\-H'b (art. 19.) and as the functions are supposed equal
for all values of .r, we must have

f[x^+/, A-f H A=:F (x)+/i'A+H'/,.
And since f{x)zzF[r), therefore,

jih+Wi=:p' h+ll'h ; and^-f Hr:A'-f H'.

Now,/! and/i' are entirely independent of/i, and H and
H' vanish when /iZZO; therefore, in order that/i-j-H and fi'
4-H' may be universally equal, we must have /iZH/i', and

5/(^)^ = d

H=H': Hence fi d x:z:/'' d x, that is, d

The converse of this proposition does not hold true ; for
'2 x d X may be the fluxion of a:", or the fluxion of x'' -\-c,
{c being any constant quantity). So that in general, from
'he equation d v^d u, we may infer that v^.u-\-c.

29. Let it be required to find the fluxion of the product
of iJ and tl, two functions o\x.

Let y^vu. Put fi and/i' f&r the fluxional co-eflicients
of V and u ; then when x becomes x+/i,
V becomes v-{-/i //-fllA,
u becomes u-{-/t' /i-^-li'/i,
and y becomes y' ;
therefore y'=:iv+/i h+ll/i) (u+fi'h+H'A), that is, y'=:
Cvu+{vfi'+ufi)h

i -{.^uH-^/t'Ui + H)/t+(v+fi/t+H/i)H'l/i; and put-
ting y for x> u ; and H"/i, generally, for the amount of the
terms that contain one or otiier of the three quantities HA,
H'A, /;2, we have

y'=zy+{v/i'+ufi)h + n"/i. _
Hence it appears that the fluxional co-efficient oft/ is v fi'
-\-iifi ; and therefore f/i/^(x' /*'-)■ w/i) dxzzvfi' dx-\-ufi dx.
But /i' d xZZdv, and/! d xZZd u, (art. 25.) therefore,

d y^v du-\-udv.
Hence this rule,

(F)
To find the fluxion of the product of two functions of the

same variable quantity: Multiply each function by the

fluxion of the other, and add together the products.

If we divide the two sides of the equation d{uv)zZv du

, d(uv) du dv
■\-udv h\ u V, we have -'ZZ , an expression

from which we may readily find the fluxion of the product
of any number of factors whatever. For, let us suppose
that u~« t, then

du d(at) ds dl

~u St *■ t '

and therefore,

d{s tv) d s

s t V s

d t dv

In the same manner it may be shewn, that whatever be
the number of factors, we have always

d(s tiiv

. Sec.) d s , d t du dv

-r—— — + — + — + ^ ^^■

k.c. s t u V

s t uv . . . &c. X

, Sec. is

:+ &c.|.

s t uv ,
and hence the fluxion of the product s tuv

' s . dt . du
s t

If now each term be actually multiplied by the product
s t uv . . . Sec. the denominator will be taken away, aaA the
result will give us this rule :

CG)
To find the fluxion of the product of any number of func-
tions of a variable quantity :;: : Multiply the fluxion of each
factor by the product of all the other factors, and the sum
of all these results will be the fluxion required.

30. Next, let it be required to find the fluxion of the

fraction j/~ — . Because vZZuy, by rule (F), dvzzydu

•\-n d y ; put — instead of y in the second member, and we

i-'fl" , , , ■

-\- u d y, and hence

have dv:

dy—-

n d ■

-V

d u

Hence the following rule,

To find the fluxion of a fraction, multiply the fluxion of
the numerator by the denominator, and the fluxion of the
denominator by the numerator ; subtract the latter product
from the former, and divide the remainder by the square
of the denonihiator.

FLUXIONS.

131

31.
again

Let M be a function of a variable quantity a:, and
let y be some function of ;^. It is required to inves-
tigate a general rule for finding the fluxion of 7/ relatively
to X.

Let /2 be the fluxional co-efficient of u relatively to x ;
then when x becomes x-\-/i, u becomes u+fi /i + H /;iz;'+
>:, (putting /t (or fi/t + llh). Again, let// be the fluxional
co-efficient of y relatively to it, then, when 11 becomes u-i-l:,
y considered as a function of ?f becomes 1/+// X--f-K X-, (K
being a quantity that vanishes when ^rzo); and, therefore,
considered as a function of .r, it becomes

?/+/''(/' /'+" '')+K(/2 A + H /O
—y+nti''i+{!'' H+A K+KH)//.

But as when A=0, then A=0; and consequently K=0,
we may put H" /* for the last term of this expression, (H"
being a quantity which vanishes when /i^O), and then it
will appear that when x increases to x-^-h-, y, considered as
a function of x, increases to y+ft' ji h-^-K" h. Therefore,
(art. 25.)) ///i is the fluxional co-efficient of y relatively to
a.-, and (/j/:^///!^-^ ; but/! being the fluxional co-efficient
of u relatively to x, ji d x-zzd u ; therefore, relatively to x,
fly — h'du. Now this last expression is also the fluxion of
y taken relatively to a, independently of x. Hence we have
this rule

To find the fluxion of y a function of r«, which is itself a
function of a variable quantity x ; find the fluxion of 7/ con-
sidered as a function of m, without any regard to x : The
result will have the form /i of m; next find the fluxion of u
considered as a function of x, and substitute it in/; du, and
the result will be the fluxion oiy relatively to x.

32 We shall now give some examples of the applica-
tion of these rules.

Example 1. Let wi^v/.^) or, as it may be otherwise ex-

pressed, ti'ZZx^.

d X

or, a z(^-

By rule (A), (/«— ?!x2 ^ d x'l^i.x '^dx,

•2^x
Ex. 2. u-=.

^/x^

that is, u zz x'

(A), d UZZ — -|x~2->rfxzr— |jr~- rf-r=.

In this case, by rule
3 d X

Ex.3. Let uzZ(i-{-b\/.r —

2>/xS'
Rule (E) applies to this

example ; and as the term a is constant, we have d wzzb d

d X

{x^)—cd{x

), now, by rule (A), d {x ' )zz

2^x

and d

(x-i)=_.

^dx=z — -

therefore, d u :

b d X , c d X

"iy/x

+ -

J. 2

Ex. 4. Let 2/=-^ . In this case, we apply rule (H),

, . . . , ^ , , d-v X dx
and (A),rfx' ~2 x dx,d uZZ ^ ^^ ~ ~-

Hence,

dy=Zdx^(a--i-x^)-i-

X d X

dyZ

■iy/v~ u ~y^{a^ + x')

x^ d X _{n^+ 2x^)d X
^{u'+x')— V^a'+x^) ■
^Ex. 7. Let r/zrx {a^ +x'')^[a~—x^). Put v=la---\-
X-, and u ZZ ^ («" — x^), ami we hv^ye y::z.x v ti; there-
fore, by rule (Ci), d y^x u d x-\-x u dv-j-x -v d u. Now

— — j7 d jc

d v'ZZ'2 X d X, rules (A) and (E), and d uzn — -j—i j-,

y/\a. X )

rules (I) and (A), therefore, after substituting £or v u, d v ,

d u, their values, and reducing, we find

^{a'^—x')

We have substituted single letters for complex func-
tions, with a view to refer each operation to a particular
rule; but, in actual calculation, this will not always be ne-
cessary. Thus, in the 5th example, in which y^.{a-\-bx'^ )" ,
by retaining the symbol a-f A j"', instead of substitutiiig u
for it, we have d y:^n {n + b x"' )"~'x d (12 + 6 x'^ ), and
as d (a-\-b x"' )z:zb d (a;'" )^m b a.'^—'-dx, we have, as be-
fore, d yZZm 7ib {a-\-b x '" )"-' x*""* d x.

Ex. 8. Let J/— (nx3-f-6)-|-^2y(a-— x = )x(x— A).

In the first place,

rf$(a x^-f bYX=.'2{axi + b)yid{ax^+b)-:z:
6a x^ (0x3 + 5) dx.

Again,rf 5 2v/(a^— x = )x(.r— i)^

2v' (a^— ^^) X d ^x—b)+{x—!.)xd i 2^ (a^— x^) I

But d{x—b)=dx, andd^ 2V(a''—x-) I — ■— ^^'^■^ ^

therefore upon the whole,

f/y— 6 ax- (^ax3-}-b)d X +^ , — ^-5 —

V(a" — X )

33. We shall next give examples of logarithmic func-
tions, putting 1. (c) for the Napierean log. of any func-
tion z.

Ex. 1. Let v=\.( ^ -V Put r -.= =,

then by rule (B), d u^~: But by the rule for the Auc-
tion of a fraction,

. ./ X \ a'^dx

Therefore, dii-^. — -r—, rr.

Ex. 2. Let «=i. \ ^('+-HV(!z:^) I .

Put j/^r:l-fx,2-=:l— x;

and

d{x^)Z=:'2xdx, mdd{\—x)z=. — dx, we have Then m =1. ('^i^Wi (y-f:)— !.(!'— r");
\~x^xdx4-x'^dx (l—xSxdx. \y—' I

2(1 — x)xdx+x'^dx (2 — t) .t d x.

(1— .r}^ — {\—xf

Ex.5. \^eiy:zi{a + bx"'Y. Puta-f i.T'"zi7/, thenz/zr;; «.
This example belongs to rule (I), and procerding as there
directed, we have, by rule (A), rf ^13 n «"-V/u, and fiom
the equation u zz a-\-b x"', by rules (E) and (A), dwzZm
b x'"~^d X. Therefore,

d y^Lm n b {a-Y b Xmy"~' x™-!,:/ x.
Ex.6. Let!/zzx^(a^-t-x^). Put v/(n = -f x^) — w, and
we have ylZx u. I'herefore, by rule (K) d yzZiu d x -\-

xdu. Tofindrfaorrf < y'(a^+x^) S , w_^ may assume

x»~a'-fx", and then ii':^^v, therefore by rules (I), (E),

,, d V -\- d z d y — d z

and d UZZ —^ .

y + z y~z

Now 2 !/ rf yZZd X, and 2 r f/ r = — d x.

Therefore d y z= — , and (/ ziz ;

2 y' 2z '

Hence we have

dy+dz y — r dx dy — dz y + x dx

; = i — :; and -^ — iJ__. .

y + ^ y+^ 2yz y — ; y — z2yz

dx {v'+z'^)dx

But v- +='=2, y^—z^ZZ2 X, and ./ zZZ^ ( 1— x'):

R 2

FLUXIONS.

—dx

132

Therefore, d « z: — jj-, 5T--

In the next two examples we shall merely give the re-

MlltS.

Ex. 3. M = 1.^^ + ^(1+^.2)^; du=-~~-y

Xa _, Sv/(l+^')+^?.i J ^ dx

^''^•^- "='-^7(T+^-r''"=^+^-

As an example of an exponential quantity, let «~y * ;
supposing!/ and r to be any functions of a variable cjuan-
tity X ; then log. u ZZ z \. {y) ; Therefore, (Article 28.)

and again considering cos. w as a function of x, We have

/ 1 \ d X
d (cos. «) =<'( — l=:r J J therefore by rule (I)

dx COS. udx

d u:Zi

d X
x^sin. zt"~" sec.^u .sin. u"^ sec. u sin. u '

»T • <• sm. u

Hence putting tan. u tor , we have also

d u ~-

d X

sec. u tan. u Xy/(x''- — 1)

Ex.3. Lctcot. ji~x; then tan. w^ — : Now we have

X
2

,C,,,? ,C , . sf ,?i/\? du found that duzzd(lan.u) cos.' u, (Example 1.); but

c'J l.(:.) 5=r/ Jrl.Cy)^ ; nowrf Jl.(«) ^ = _ ,,_, ' ^ rfxcos.'„

'--''--' i J « rf(tan. Mjn: »• ; therefore, (/ m ~ 5 , or

and d-J 2l.(i/) }-:r:(/zl.(y)+:—l^; by rules (B) and

l J V since

(F): Therefore, substituting f/= for u, we have
dn=r[dzl.{y)+=-^^.

34. Examples in circular functions.

_ , , „ sin. X
£,x. 1. LetM^ tan. x. Because tan. x zz ; there-
cos. X

- , , /sin. x\ cos. .r rffsin. x) — sinxrf(cosx)
fore, c/u~(i I == !: ^ ^ ■

\COb. x/ cs. X

But rf (sin. x) n: rf X COS. x, and d (cos. x) ~ — d x sin. x,

, /rv\ .u e J rfx(cos.2x+Vn).^x) dx

rule (Dj : therefore rfa— !: -^ -^: 5—.

*■ ' COS. X cos.^x

In the three following examples, we shall, for the sake

of brevity, merely slate the results.

Ex. 2. t/~ sec. X, d jiizrfx tan.x sec. X.

— d X

Ex. 3. w~cot. X, rfa — : — s — .

sni.'x

Ex. 4. «:^ cosec. x,d uzz — d x cot. x cosec. x

COS. u

e XZZ ,

sin. u

du'ZZ — dx sin.* u :^ •

d X

l+x-'

Ex. 4. If cosec. « == X ; then, from the formula, «/«s=.

d (sin. u) ,

— -, and

duZZ

sin. M sr — we easily find

d X d X

35. In the above examples, the tangent, secant. See. are dents will also be equal.
considered as functions of the arc : but we may reverse the g algebraic division
hypothesis, and consider the arc as a function of the tan- 1 '

gent, or secant. Sec. - — ^:^l+.r+^^+x3

Ex. I. Let it be required to find the fluxion of an arc
considered as a function of its tangent. Put x for the tan-
gent, and u for the arc. Then we may consider m as a func-
tion of sin u ; and again sin. u and cos. u as functions of
X. Now, by Rule (D), supposing u a function of sin u, we
have.

col. u cosec. M x.^(x*— ])'

Some A/ifilicatiana of the Theory.

36. Before we proceed farther in the explication of the
theory of fluxions, we shall give a few examples of its ap-
plication to the investigation of analytical and trigonometri-
cal formulae ; employing the principal demonstrated in
Art. 28, namely, that if tiuo functions of a variable quantity
be universally equal to one another, their fuxional co-effi-

+x''-i+

d (sin. u)
dw:^ — ^ '—

And since by the Arithmetic of Sines, sin. uzZx cos. u,
therefore considering sin. u as a function of x, we have by
rule (F)

d (sin. u)'ZZdx cos. ti — x d (cos. u) (2).
But cos.^ u + sin.^ u — 1 ; therefore, by rule (A),
cos. u d ( cos. u ) + sin. u d { sin. « ) = 0, and d ( cos. u)
sin. u

1— X . . . • . . i_^.

and therefore.

^-^■^Z=x+x-+x'+x*. . . +a;« fa)

1 — X ^

where n denotes the number of terms of the series. As

the members of this equation are equal functions of the

same variable quantity x, their fluxions must be equal.

Now the fluxion of the first member is by rules (A) and

(H)

(1— x) ^ 1— (n+^x" I dx+x(—x^)dx
___

1 — (n+!)x +nx

d X

{i-xY

-d (sin. ic)= — xd (sin. «) ; hence, from equa- ^nd the fluxion of the second member is

dx+2xdx+3x^dx . . . . +wx"-'dx-;

cos

tion (2) we have,

d (sin. u)zz.d X cos. u — x^ d (sin. u),

and (14-x') d (^sin. u)z^d x cos. u. (3.)

From equations (I) and (3), we have, by rule (I)

, d X

dM~-

1+x

Hence, putting these expressions equal to one another ;
also, dividing both by d x, and multiplying by x, we get

x5l— («+l)a:"+nx''*i I ,^^

x+2x^+3x3+4x« . . . +na;".
This formula may be easily verified by multiplying the

And since 1 +x^ zz. sec." u rr V-) we have also

cos.'^u

Ex. 2. If^^rTupposf uto be such a function of x that f '°"'' "^'="'*'"" °^ ^^^ ^^"^^'°" ^^ ^^^ denominator o'f the

' '^ . iirst.

■sec. M ss X, then, cos. u ZZ — . Now regarding u as a Let us now, in order to abridge, put

function of cos, w, we have, by rule (D) d m sr

d(cos. u)
pin. « '

_ 1— (n+ 1 )x"+nx"-^'

FLUXIONS.

133

and taking the fluxions, we have

-dx . dx . 'S.xdx

Ax dx

Then by formula (b),

yiJXZlx+2x^+2x^-\-ix* . . . -^nxn, (c) i _~" —

then, taking the fluxion of each side as before, and de- — 2nx'^'^-'^dx V ^"r" j i ^+ j i ^2+ j 1 ^4

noting brieily (/ (X'a.) by X" d x, wliere X" is a function 1 ^^n — \ nx^-^dx

of X, which limy be found by rules (F), (H), and (I), Me

have,

yj'dx=.dx-y'2-x dx-\-:^'^x''dx . . . ■j-n^x''-^dx;
and hence, dividnig by d x, and inultiplying by jr, we find
X"x—x + 2^x^+3^x^ + 4^x'^. . . +n^x*

From the process by vvliich formula (A) and (c) have
been deduced from formula (a), it appears, that if we put

=X, and compute the series of functions X', X", X*',

&c. from the fluxional formulae

rf(£X) ^^, d(xX')^^„ <f2^)=X"' Ecc.
d X ' ' d X " ' dx '

then we shall have

X x=x+x'+x3-i-x* . . . . +x";
X'x=x+2x^ + 3x3 + 4x* . . . . +nx";
X"x =x-\-2-x^-i-3^x^ + 4'x* . . +n2x";
X"'x—x+2'x'^+3Kv^-\-4H*. . .^n^xn-
kc. &c.
■where 71 may be any whole number whatever, and x any
quantity greater or less than unity. In tlie particular case
of x=l, the formulas are not immediately applicable, be-
cause then the numerator and denominator of the expres-

and hence, by dividing all the terms by dx, and multiply-
ing by X, and transposing the term •, we find

X 2nx^''

1 X 1 — x'"

X ?£L- I _l£l nx"

~ l+x"^ l+x"^"^ 1+x* ■ ■ ■ "^l-fx"

This elegant analytical theorem holds true, indepen-
dently of any particular value of x ; and whatever be the
number of the terms, observing that the exponents of the
powers of X must be the terms of the geometrical series
J, 2. 4, 8, Sec. the common ratio of which is 2.

38. Let us next assume this other series of identical
equations.

^—1=:(^*— 0(^^+1),
x^—\zr{x~^—l)(xi+l).

2_ 1^ 1^

xn — l:z:(x-n — l)(jl"-f 1).

sions Xx, X'x, &c. vanish at the same time We shall ^^j,^^^ taking the products of the corresponding sides of
k2^!!.i. II °"' q"3"*'l'" '^»^''"S this property are to the two series of equations, and rejecting the terms com-

mon to both, we find x—l expressed by the product

be valued

When ar is a proper fraction, and w the number of terms

infinite, the function X becomes simply — . In this

1— X

,_ 1+* . vw,_'+4x4-3r^

V'-^ ' . ■vn— • ' ~ . V'"

Therefore,

— x-t-x'^-f x3+x*-f Sec.

■^=:x+2x' + 5x3 +4:x*+ (ac.

(l-x)* '

&c.

(x^—\)(x^+l){x^+l)(x^+\) ... x{x"+iy
Hence, proceeding as in last article, dividing the fluxion
of each factor by the factor itself, and leaving out d x,

which is common to all the terms, we find —

X— 1~

i-i

+ h

'=x+2^jr»+3^x'-t-42x*+ &c.

l—x

X
{\-X)

u-xy ^

■lil±^^^-lz=x+2'x^+3'x^+4'x*+ Ecc.
(I— -t) &c. &c. &c.

By the principle employed in this article, we may dis-
cover as many series, finite or infinite, as we please, that
may be summed.

37. As an example of another inode of investigating
series that may be summed, let us assume the series of
identical equations.

1— x2=:(l+x)(l— x),
l—x*=(\+x^){l—x^),
\—x^— ( 1 -f x*Xl— x").

n(x" — I)
i_,

+ i

x*-Fl

T^ n

J-1

x* + \

x»-fl x"+l

and by transposing and multiplying all the terms by x, we
find

n(x" — 1)

x—l

4.1—:

n .1 )'

x"-f.l'

This equation holds true, whatever be the number of
terins : but let us now suppose their number infinite ;

1— x"> = ( 1 -f x" )(1— x« ) :

By taking the products of the two sides, and leaving out (-A^"- '2) Hence we have

then the numerator of the expression -f becomes

?2(x"— 1)
— 1, and the denominator is the Napierean log. of x.

the factors common to both, we obtain

1— x2»=(l— x)(l-fxXl-fx2)(l-|-x'') . . . x(l+x").

Now it has been shewn, (Art. 29.) that supposing r, s, t,v,

Sec, to be any functions of x, if y~rs«v, &c. then

dy dr , d s , dt, ,
— = h &c.

Therefore, assuming that

l.(x)~x— 1

x*-fl

3 I

x*-fl x^+1

-f &c

■)

We may give this expression another form, by writing
— instead of x, and afterwards changing y into x, and ob-

134

FLUXIONS.

serv

int^ that log. ( — ) — — log. (r) ; wc then have

By adding- the correspontlhig sides of these two for-
nnilae, we get this third formula,

wliich is better adapted to calculation than either of the
otheis, because it converges faster; but it does not con-
verge so fast as that which we have in Art. 1 1.

By taking tlie lliixions of both sides of this equation,
•we may find the expression for the reciprocal of the
square of 1(t), which has been investigated by a different
method in Art. 1 1 ; and repeating the process, we may
ol)tain expressions for the reciprocal of its third and higher
powers.

39. By the Ahttiimetic of Sines, formulae (G),
Sin. x^ sin. J, .r x 2 cos. i x, and sin. i .r~
sin. i .r X 2 cos. i x.

Therefore,
sin..rz:2^ sin. Jxcos. ix cos. i x ;

Again, because sin. ixz^ sin. -i .r x 2 cos. ix ; therefore
sin. :r^:2^ sin. .^ x cos. A x cos. ^ x cos. ^ x.

And, in general, putting 7n for the number of cosines,
and?!:^2"',

sin.. r^:?! sin. ^.r cos. J. r cos. J. r . . x cos. n.r.

Hence, proceeding as in Art. 37. we have

(/. sin. .r 71 d.s'in. ^x rf. co'. A :r il. co^.^x

sin.x ?! sm. jj-f cos. jjr ' ' ' cos.i.r

By actually taking the fluxions of the numerators, and
rejecting the common factor rfx, we have

cos. .r cos.^-jr sin. ^ .r sin. ^x sin. ;; r

sm. X 71 sin.

- .r 2 cos. 5 j:^ 4cos. ix

n COS. ~x

. , . c sm..r „

and hence, transposing and putting tan. x tor — ^ — &c.

, ( h i tan. ^ X

' Itan.x

?! tan. j,x J

(-fitan.lx . . . .

itan.

.-f .^tan.ix -fS'tan. ^r

This formula is true, whatever be the number of teinns
in tlie series. Let us now suppose the arc x indefinitely
small, and ?i indefinitely great ; in that case, n tan. ixzz
arc X ; hence, supposing the series to go on ad i7ijinilum,
we have

— Z: \- .', tan. A X + i tan. -^ x + i tan. ' x -f Sec.

X taii.x - 1 4 •< 1 b T ■

This elegant expression for the reciprocal of an arc, has
been otherwise found in Auithmetic oJ' Sines, Art. 33,
and in Conic Sections, Sect. vii.

By taking the fluxions repeatedly of both sides of this
equation, we may find series for tlie reciprocal of the
squares, and anv higher powers of an arc.

4 ). From the few applications whicli have been given
in tliis Section, it must appear, that the fluxional calculus
is a powerful instrument in analytical inqu'ries. For as
ail quantities whatever may be treated l)y tlie elementary
operations of addition, subtiaction, nnillip'.ication, and divi-
sion, by attributing to them the property of being variable,

they become subject to another operation, namely, that by
which their fluxions arc taken.

It must also be obvious, that the use of the character
dx is merely to shew, that the changes of magnitude of
different functions are all referred to that of the variable
qiianiity x, which, in a function of a determinate form, has
the same relation to the function that a root has to its
power.

Of the Different Ordcis of Fluxions.

41. In what has been already explained, we have estab-
lished the important principle in analysis, that if tt, any
expression of calculation, be regarded as formed from,
and depending upon, some quantity x, which is suscepti-
ble of all degrees of increase or decrease ; then there is a
certain quantity/;, deducible from u by determinate rules,
wliich is a limit to the ratio of the corresponding incre-
ments of u and x; and which we have called the fluxional
co-efRcient, originating from the function u.

Now, by applying the same hypothesis to /!,that is, by
comparing its increase or decrease Avith the correspond-
ing increase or decrease of x, the function p will in like
manner have its fluxional co-cflicient ij, and this last will
have its fluxional co-eflicient r, and so on.

Hence it follows, that corresponding to u, any function
of .r, there is a series of fluxional co-efiicients /i, 5r,r, &c.
any one of which, after the first is deducible from that be-
fore it, as the first is from the original function, by the
rules which have been given for finding the fluxion of a

d u
function. For example, if !i nzx" , then by rule (A), - —

~ M x"-*, therefore in this case /il^na;""*, and since rf/s

IZn(« — l)a;"-^rfx, rule (A,) therefore 9 ir-^rrn (?i — 1)

x"-^. In like manner, dqzzn (n — I) (n — 2) x"~^d x, and

1) (?i — 2) x"-^, and so on.

The relation that each of the fluxional co-efficients ft,
g, r, kc. stands in to the original function ;/, is indicated Ijy
calling/! the fluxional co-efRcient of the^;-«f order, q that
of the secovd order, r that of the third order, and so on ; so
that in the case of the function uzz -x" , the fluxional co-
efiicients of the first, second, and third order, resulting
from the function, are

/! — ?!.r''-i, y — n (?! — 1) x^~-.rZZ7i(7i — 1) (n — 2) x"-^.

42. The piocess by which the fluxional co-eflicients /;,
g,r, &c. are to be determined from the function n, is in-
dicated by the series of equations

du f//! d q

, (I q ,

hence r ~ — - ZZ7i(n'
dx

^' = Tx^^-dx

r=^, kc.
d X

In these, the conventional symbol d x enters merely as
a mark, to indicate that x is the variable basis of the func-
tion ; therefore, in performing the operations, we may treat
it as if it represented some constant quantity, and so we
shall have

_d(d/,)_
d qZZ —-; — -=. -
d X

I d (d u)

d X. d X
and, therefore.

d u

but instead of

'dx dx.dx dx.dx.d X

repeating the letter d so often, it will be better to put d^ u

for d(d ?/),andrf" tc forrf id{d-u) > , and, in general, d" u

for the ultimate result oritained by taking the fluxion of n,
and again the fluxion of the first result, and so on, uniil the

FLUXIONS.

135

operation has been pcrlorniecl jj limes, always consitlciiiiy
rfx as constant. Also, instead o£ dx.dx, we may put
(dx)', or suU more simply, rfx^ ; and, in general, instead
of the product of n factors, each — d x, wc may put d x" ,
we then have

du d'u d"^"

^' — ^'''— ITT'
and hence again,

dtiz^/id x,d- ti'zZ'J d x" , d^ uzzr d x^, kc*
From the manner in which the series ol qiumtilies /; d x,
gdx^, rdx^, &c. arc deduced IVom the fun>.tion u, we
may indicate their relation to it, by calling /; d x llu' first
Jluxion of w, and yrfx^ the second Jluxion ol w, and r d x^
its third Jluxion, and so on, so that tiie n\.\\ fluxion of u
(denoted by rf" u) will be the fluxional co-cOicient of the
nth order multiplied by the Jith power of d x, that is by
d x" it and, on the contrary, like as the fluxional co-efficient

of the first order is - — , the fluxional co-efficient of the wth

d X

order will be

d" u

43. It has been proved, (art. 28.) that \i u and v are two
functipns, which are equal for every value of .r, then the
fluxional co-efficients of the first order derived from them

.,, , , , . du dv

■will be equal, that is, --—iz -7— :
' dx dx

Now, as these expres-

sions denote other functions of x, having the some pro-
perty as the original functions, we must, in like manner,

have

{du) ^ (dv)

dx dx , . d^u d^v

—. ZZ — ; ) that IS, -——__,

dx dx dx^ dx^

SO that not

only will the fluxional co-efficients of the first order be
equal, but likewise those of the second and all higher or-
ders.

As the equations

du dv d^u f/2-

d X-

"■""'' dx dx^ dx^~

may also be expressed thus,

d(u — t) d' ill — x>)

u—v—0, -^ ^=0, \ , '—0, £cc.

dx dx'-

it appears that the same proposition may be expressed as

follows: If X be such a function of x, that X:zO, for all

values of a: whatever, then shall -3—^:0, — — ^~0, anduni-

d x~

dx'

versally j^=0-

For example, if X~-

- +

X' — a' x—-a x-\-a
pression which is always :^0 ; then,
riX — 4a,r . 1 I

dx — {_x-—a')-
</'X_i g^-|-12ax-

{x-aY

:o, &c.

(j;-^ — a'-f (X — of- (x-|-«)!i"

44. The rules for finding the first fluxion of a func-
tion of i-, are equally applicable to the second and higher
fluxions.

Let uzZLx^ ; then (rule (A) ) d u^z.n x'"-^d x. By consi-
dering dx ds a constant quantity, we have d (d u), that is,
d^u:^n(n — ])x"''-dx-. By proceeding in this manner,
the successive fluxions of w^z" are

(/ i/ZZn X "-■ d X,
d'^ uZZ.n{n — l).r"~- rfar",
d^uzZn{n—\) {n — 2)x'^^ d x^ , kc.
From these expressions, it appears, that when n is a
whole iiunibei-, the fluxion of the nth order is a constant
quantity, and ti)ercfore all the following fluxions vanish.

Let Kz::log. X; thei> b, denoting the basis of the system,
by lules (B) and (A), we get
. dx _ dx"^ ,, 'idx'^ ^

'^"=^uiry ''""=-pr(7)''' "=PT(ry^'^-

Let u^e-^' , e being the basis of the Napierian system of
logarithms; then, by rule (C),

duZZdxe^, d^ u-^zd x'-^ e^ , d'uZZd x^ c-^' , &.C.

From these examples, it appears, that the functions
uzZZiog. X, and uz^e-^' have fluxions of all orders whatever.
Tliis will also be found to be true of the functions j/~sin.
X, and 2^~cos. x.

Of Fluxional Equations.

45. We have hitherto supposed that the expression
whose fluxional co-efficient is to be determined, was an
explicit function of the variable quantity x, that is, a func-
tion of j; of some given form. But it may be required to
find the fluxional co-efficient of y, an im/iiicit function of
X, the nature of which is expressed by an equation. For
example, the relation of j/ to x may be expressed by the
equation

y^ — 2 mxy-\-x^ — a'^.0.
In this particular case, by resolving the equation, we
have

T.j-^.mx-:^=i^ \a" -^^ (m^ — V) x^ ^ ;

as y is now an explicit function of x, its fluxion may be
found by the rules already given. But the equation which
expresses the relation of y to j:^ may not admit of being re-
solved ; and when this is the case, the fluxional co-efficient
must be determined upon principles which we are now to
explain.

As we have denoted any expression of calculation com-
posed of a- and constant quantities by the symbol f {x), we
may, in like manner, denote any expression composed of
X, y, and known quantities, by f{x, y).

In this way, any equation, such as y'^ — 2m x ii-\-x'^- — a^
ZZO, expressing tlic relation between x and y, maj be brief-
ly indicated thus, F {x, y):z.O- Now, although we should
not be able to resolve tiie equation, we may be ceitain that
y is expressible in some way or other by x : It may there-
fore be assumed that j/IzrX, where X denotes some ex-
pression of calculation made up of x and known quanti-
ties. This value of y being put instead of it in the equa-
tion F (x, i/):z:0, it becomes F (or, X)r20, an equation in-
volving only X and constant quantities : And as the equa-
tion F (.r, J/):zO holds true for every possible value of x,
so also must the equation F {x, X)~0 : This must thei-e-
fore be an identical equation, and consequently it will have
the properties which (in art. 43.) have been proved to be-
long to such an equation : So that putting u to denote
briefly the expression F ( r, X), or its equivalent F (.r, jr),

1 , du d'u

as we have v^.0, we must have also — - ZTO, — o.

dx dx^

dxi

ZZ.O1 &c. expressions which mean that if the fluxion of u —

• The reader must be careful to give each of these three symbols, li" u dun d («n ) its true meaning. The first indicates that the opera-
tion of finding the fluxion of a is to be perfoi-nied n times ; the second, that the result of the first operation is lobe raised to the nth power ;
the third, that the fluxion of the nth power of u 13 to be taken.

■}• According to the notation hitherto used in this country, the second fluxion of u is indicated by the character u, its third fluxion by a

its fourth by a. It is easy to see that the higher orders of fluxions must either be expressed with considerable typographical inconvenier.ce,
or the notation changed.

136

FLUXIONS.

T(x,y), (considering 1/ as a function of x) be found and Again, take tlie fluxions of tl>c terms of this new equation,

divided by il x, the result will be nO ; and again, if the . d y r ■ c 1 u i.

n • r .1 • 1-. 1 r 1 A A\„\.\r.A K., ,/ ^ ti/.Q considering y and —• as functions of x, and the result

fluxion of this quantity be iound and divided by d x^, tins ° ^ dx

second result will be— 0, and so on. .... .... d'y , t/ y

46. Let !/ be a fanclion of or, of such a nature that

will be an ctiuation involving

d X

-T, and — i, which, com-
d X

dx dx

Hence,

C^)

y'^+^t- =:«-, or ^2 y

y^-f .1-^ — a- — 0, (1) bined with the former equation, serves to determine j— ^.

a beine: sunnoscil a constant quantity. In this case, » .1 • 1 .• 1 r 1 r ^1 • i . 1 • .1

° ' ' 2,22 A third equation may be formed from this by taking the

therefore, taking the fluxions and dividing by rfjr, we fluxions, considering '-—^, ^^ and 1/ as functions of x, and

this combined with the two former, gives the value of-; — ?,

d X

and so on to any number of eciuations whatever.

Let the fluxional co-cfHcicnts of the different orders be

required, supposing y to be such a function of x that

y'^ — 2 7nxy-\-x'^—a''ZZ0 (l)

In this case, by taking the fluxions, we have

(i/ — m x)d y — (m y — x)d x— 0,

and hence

dy __m y — x

dx~~ y — ?n X

From this expression, by again taking the fluxions, we

find

d-y (1 — m")x dy (1 — m^)y

d y X

dx y

To determine the fluxional co-efficient of the second or-

(l y ■

der, put -r'^h ; then
d X

=2(y/i+x).

As /i is a function of y and x, and y is a function of x,

therefore /; is a function of x. Taking now the fluxions

relatively to x, and dividing by d x, we have

d^ u , dp. . dy , ,^

d x^— ^^dx^^ dx^ ' '

■ ■ dy , dfi d^ y

that IS, because flZZ-r , and — -IZ -r-^)

dx dx dx^

(2)

dx^ {y — vixfdx (y — mx)
dy

7»

(3)

dx^ ^^dx^^dxi^ '—
This last equation gives us

(3)

Or, substituting for -2- its value as expressed by equation

(2), and reducing
d'^y

f^_ I Jdy^ \

dx^ y \dx'' I

= _(,_;„^)?''-2'"-!' + *^

(4)

^ . d y x

Or, since -— zi ,

' dx y

d2 y x2 I

(/x2~~ 1/3 y

(4)

dx'^ *"' "' ^ {y — 7«x)^

If we take the fluxions of both sides of equation (3),

considering . , and -^ as functions of x, we shall have
° dx^ dx

A=P-^ + Q? + R (5)

dx^ — dx- • ^dx^ ^ '

To determine the fluxional co-efficient of the third or- Where P, Q and R denote certain expressions com-
der, w'e may put ■^—^ZZ-~ZZg, and then substituting fi posed of x and y; by substituting for -— - and -— , their

d X

' dx'

for ^^, equation (3) becomes

'L^^=2(yg+/r + \)—0.

dx^ dx

values given in equations (4) and (2), we may have

d^y
dx^

expressed in terms of x and y.

47. The equations which may be deduced from any

By taking the fluxions of both sides of this equation, and eq^iation, such as y^— 2 mxy+x^— a^=0, by treating it
considering that g and/i are functions of x and y, and con- a^ directed in the rule of last article, are called Fluxion-
sequently of x, we shall have an equation involving, be- <^^ Equations. The equation itself is called the Primi-
sides X and y, these quantities, ""'■ equation. The fluxional equation, which gives the

value of— in terms of y and x, is said to be of the Pint
dx

d q dp cP y ^^d~ y d y

Tx' Tx—d7^' ''—7^'' ^"'' ^'—Tx

The quantity ^=^^ is that to be determined ; the Order. That which gives the value of -^^ in terms of

dx dx

. . d^y . d y , .

other quantUicS'—rr, and —^, are expressed in equations

(4) and (2) by means of x and y : Hence the value of
dx

— , may be found. And, by a like mode of proceeding,

— , y, and X, or else in terms of y and x only, is said to be

of the Second Order ; and so of the higher orders : Thus,
from the primitive equation,

y'^ — 2 m X y+x- — a^ZZO,
we have found

du 7)1 y — X

-2- i — 0,

dx y — m ~

the fluxional co-efiicient of any order maybe found.

This mode of determining the fluxional co-efficients

d y d^-y . . ^^ V — '"■*

--^, - — 2, S^c. is that indicated by the analysis (art. 45.) for the fluxional equation of the first order, and

It evidently furnishes the following practical rule. '^^y H — '" ^x dy (1 m )i/_Q

Take the fluxions of the terms of the equation, consi- dx^ (y — mxY dx (y — mx)^

dering y as a function of x, and dividing hydx, the result d^y y' — anxx+x^

dy also-— ^-f (I— m2)2— J -3 — =0,

^vill be a new equation, w'nch serves to determine—^. "^ (.y — '"•^;

d X for the fluxional equations ot the second order.

FLUXIONS.

13:

The floxional equations oi all orders like the pi-lmiiive
ace identical.

48. The equation y^ — 2 m x y + .r^ — u} =0 bcint;; of the
second dcgice, ij will have two values conxspondint; to
any given value ol \r, and as y enters into the exiucssions

for the fluxional co-efficients — = , -~ .,

ax a X*

kc. these will also

have each two values. A like romurk will apply to the
fluxional co-efiicients derived from a primitive equation of
any higher order; the number of values of xj determining
in every case that of the values of the fluxional co-elli-
cients into which it enters.

49. We have seen (ait. 27.) that the constant quan-
tities which enter into a function of a variable quantity in
certain cases disappear from their fluxions. The same
remark applies also to fluxional equations. For example,
if r/^=(i ;r-|-6, the fluxion 2 y d yZZa d x belongs to every
particular equation which can be formed from the equa-
tion y'ZZfi x-\-b^ by giving all possible values to b.

The fluxional equation may be also expressed independ-
ently of «, by eliminating this quantity by means of the
two equations

we then find

a X

d y _
d x'

a
'Yy-

2 .r y

This equation expresses a relation that subsists among

, d XI

the quantities .r, y and —-, independently of any particular

value of a.

If the constant quantity which is eliminated is not of
the first degree in the proposed equation, the result ob-
tained will contain powers higher than the first of the

fluxional co-efficient-—^. For example, let the equation
d X

y'^ — 2 a !/ + x^=a^,
Hence, by taking the fluxions, we find

y d y — a d y-\-x d jr~0,

, . ydy+xdx

therefore azz- — -— .

d y

This value of a being substituted in the proposed equation,
\vc find, after proper reduction,

, ,,(■/ y' d u „

-^y )-r- ixy-^—x^'nO.

^ 'dx-i ^ dx

This equation expresses the relation that oufjht to subsist

between the variable quantity x, its funciion i/, and its

du
fluxional co-efficient-—^, independently of any particular

value of a.

By resolving the equation t/^ — 2 a y-f:f ^~a^, in respect
of a, we have

a= — 7/=±=^(2T/--J-_r2).
As a is now separated from the varialile quantities, it will
disappear in taking the fluxion : accordingly we find

■dy.

2 y dy-\-x d X

When this expression is freed from the radical sign,
it will appear to be the same as we have found by eli-
mination.

50. Any number of constant quantities whatever, con-
tained in an equation, may be made to disappear, by tak-
ing the fluxions as often as there are quantities to be ex-
terminated.

Let y'^'ZZLin (a^ — x^) : by taking the .fluxions we find

Vol. IX. Part. I.

y — ^~ — '« X-. Taking now the fluxions a second time,

d X

d^tj d y^ , . , ^

we get y j-^-f y— a^HT — m ; this value of — 7)i being stib-

stituted in the former equation, it becomes
d 1/ d y^ d~y

a result which is independent of the two constant quan-
tities ni and a.

luvesticfalion of Taylor'a Theorem, and Us JlpfiUcat'^.-
to the Develo/iement of J^'unc lions.

51. The principle established in art. 23, and illustrated
by various examples in art. 36, S7, and 38, leads im-
mediately to an important application of the fluxional cal-
culus, namely, the devclopement of functions into series.

Let us consider, in the first place, the particular func-:
tion x", X being supposed variable, and n any conslany
quantity. We have found (art. 7.) that when x become
x+/i, so that x" becomes (x-f-/;)", then

(x-f /;)" IZ x« -f (71 x''-i+ li)/t,
where H is a function of x and h, wliich vanishes when
A~0. As r and /; are quantities which we suppose to be
entirely independent of each other, this is an identical
equation of the same nature as the equation rr-f-A]' — '"-'-f-
(3 x^-f 3 x/i + h^) h, and will hold true, whatever values
we give to x and h. We may therefore, instead of A put
/t — X, where k denotes also a quantity independent of x.
By this substitution, (x-{-h)" , the first member of the
equation becomes X" ; but as the form of the function H is
unknown, we cannot actually make the substitution in all
the terms of the second member ; we may however sup-
pose, that if it were made, the quantity n x"-i-|- H would
become X, a function of x and /c, and then the equation
will be

A-''=:x« + X{k—x)
an identical equation involving two indeterminate quan-
tities X and A-, which, being quite independent of each
other, we may regard k, one of the two, as constant, and
still the equation will be true, whatever values we give to
X the other quantity, which may be now considered as
alone variable. This equation may therefore be treated
exactly as the identical equations we have considered in
art. 35. that is, we may take the fluxions of all the terms,
and after dividing by d x, we shall have a new identical
equation ; and this equation may be treated like the former,
and so on as often as we please. Accordingly, taking the
fluxions, considering k as constant, and observing that d

(x'» )Z^n x"-i d X (art. 26.) and that d jX (k — x) I ZZ

(k—x)d\ — Xrfx(art. 29. and 31.) we have

OZZn x"-! dx—Xd X + (k—x) dX,

and hence, dividing by d x. and transposing X, we get

,f/X
X = «x"-i-t-(Xr-x)— ,

a new identical equation, involving x and k. We next
take the fluxions of the terms of this equation exactly as
before, considering k and rf x as constant quantities, aiid
get

j2 Y

dX = ?i (n—\)x^-2dx—dX + (k—x) -J-.

And hence we find, after dividing by d x,

2 ~— n {n—\) x"-^ -f (k-x) ~.
d X ^ ' dx

This is a new identical equation, which must hold true

for every value of x. From this equation we nlay de-

138

FLUXIONS.

rive another, just as we found the last from that before it,
and so on. Thus a scries of identical equations will be
found, which, with the original equation from which they
have been derived, will stand thus
A" = x" + (k—x) X,

Xzznx'.-'+U-x)— ,
2i5 = n(n-'.)x'.-^ + (X-^)0

d sc '
30=. («-l) („_2).r"-3 + (^_^)^,

4 ^= n (n-1) («-2) (n-3) x""^ + (A— x) 0,

2.3 .. . m — 1 'rfx""-*
expresses the amount of all the lerms of the series after

I-. ■ » '^ X

the first m terms. For example, A -r— expresses the

amount of all the terms following the second ; and

— . J- expresses the amount of all after the third, and

so on.

When n is a whole number the series terminates, be-
cause then all the terms after the (n+ 1) ih term vanish.

rfm-l X c/" X

kc.

From these equations, by eliminating one after another,

the functions— ^,—V,—-r. &c. the following series of
d X d x~ d X

successive values of X is obtained.

rfX
X IZ ra X"-' + {k—x)

In this case the expression ■

ought to be

d X
X = 7zx«-' + !L^^x"-

(£— x)^ ^!2i

■ {Jc-x)

X = n x"-! + ^i^-i}xn-J (X-— x)

njn-^^n-^ {k-xT d^

+ 2.3 C* ^) + 2.3 'dx^'

&C.

Hence, by substituting these expressions for X in the
equation

A»=:x" + X(;t— x),
we find

*" = X" + 72 X "-» (X— X) + (/t— X) ^— ,

k« = X" + M X"-! (k—x) + iC^U ^ n-t (i-_x)'

(^_x)' rf=X
+ — 2 'rfT^'
&c.

And again, by putting x+A instead of k, and A for /t — x,
but retaining still the hypothesis that the fluxional func-
rfX d^X
'dx 'rfx^
is constant, we have

dx""-' dx"

— 0. To verify the truth of this conclusion, we must

recollect, that because /t" = x" -f X (k — r) ; therefore X

it" J*"

— ; now, when n is a whole number, the nume-

k — X

rator is txactly divisible bv the denominator, so that
X :=. *"-' + A"-2 X + /t«-3 xi . . . +k x»-* + JT"-' ;

hence, ciiiisi'li ring jt as constant, we have

rfX_ f <t"-* + 2 /t"-' X + 3 /t"-''x' . . .

5T~ 1 + (w— 2) /t x"-^ -f- (n— 1) x»-* ;

d^X_ r 2 it"-3 +2.3 k"-* X. . .

dx-~ 1 + (n— 2) (n— 3) x"-* + («_1) (n— 2) x"-',
Ecc.
By proceeding in this manner, we may express all the

, . rfX d'-'X , . r , J J • •

functions — — , =-, &c. m terms ot *• and x ; and it is

d X dx'^

manifest, that the series which expresses each, will have

one term fewer than the series which expresses that before

it, because of the constant quantities^"-*, it"—*, kc. which

have their fluxions :z: 0. As the serits which expresses

' dX

X has n terms, that which expresses - — will consist of

d X

d-X . r

n — 1 terms, and that which expresses -j — j- will consist of

d"-' X

n — 2 terms, and so on to the value of-^ -, which will

dx"-'

consist of a single term, viz.

\ (n—\){n—2){n—2)...lo{n—\) factors \ x"->-("-*J=s

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 ... to (tj — 1).
As this is a constant quantity, its fluxion will be = 0,

tions^j— -, _, Ja > ^c. are functions of x and k, in which k

will be =0, as we had concluded that it

(x+A)" =: x" + n X"-* A + A^ —— ,
(x+/i)« = x" -f M X -1 A + "^"~~-^ xn-2 A^

theretore

dx"

ought to be.

*" — x" .

When n IS a fraction or negative, then Xz: is

k — X

still a fraction, when the numerator and denominator are

each divided by their common factor. In this case, what-

+ ■

d^X

ever be the number m, the expression

2 dx^

And in general, supposing the series to be continued to m
terms, (without reckoning the term that contains the flux-
ional expression),

(x+ A)" = x» -1- n x«-i h + "'"~'^ x«*-» A»

d"X

dx"

can never be

^0 : still, however, it may be calculated. For example,
ifn^J, then Xzi-

. n (n— l)(7z— 2) , ,

&c.

therefore,

dX_ — 1

d X

k^ + x^-

d'X_ k^+Sx

d-^-'X

2.3....(m— 1) ■ dx'»-i'
If we suppose this series to be continued indefinitely,
then we have the binomial theorem in its common form
(Algebra, art. 316—322.), and in this case the quantity

2x-(A:=-fx*) "-^ 4x^C>t= + x*)

From the firsr of these expressions, we find

(x+A)*=x^ "

, &c.

■2x^ 2x^\{x+h)^+xH'
and, in like manner, we may develope C^+A) into as

FLUXIONS.

139

many terms as we please. Tliis expression, and every otlier

found by this theoieni, is merely an identical equation, as

will appear by reducing all the terms to a common denomi-

* |.

nator, for then it becomes (-r+/i)' = (a-+A)

52. We might develope each ol the functions, log. x,

a'\ sin. X, cos. x, into series, in the same manner as we have
developed (x + /;)" ; but these, and every other function
whatever of the form y (.r-j-/;), where x and It are inde-
terminate quantities independent of each other, may be
included in one general formula, which we shall now in-
vestigate.

Lety"(:c), any function of a variable quantity x, be re-
presented by u, so that we have f {x)z=.xi, then, wnen x
changes its value, and becomesx+A, we have seen (art. 19)
that

f{x+h)=fx + {ti + H)h

=U+(/i-fII)//,

where /z is a function of x that is independent of A, and His
a function of .r and/;, which vanishes when A=0 Retrac-
ing now the substitutions and operations of article 5 1, let
k=x-{-h, from which it follows that h^k — x ; and let X be
the value of /i-J-H, when k — x is substituted in it for A. The
equation thus becomes

/(A:)=u+X(/t— x).
As k is independent of x-, the expression y(^) is to be
considered as constant, u is a function of x only, and X is a
function of a: and k. Taking now the fluxions of the quan-
tities u and X {k — x) relatively to x, and dividing by d x,
we get, in the first place,
du

and hence again,

Considering now rf jc as a constant quantity, and taking

the fluxions repeatedly, and dividing by d jt as before, we

find, as in art. 51,

„ rfX rf^M , , rf2X

2^=-^+(k-x)—,

dX
dx

dx
d^X

dx''
d^u

dx^
d'X

d*u

+(k-x)

dx^
&c.

dx*

f {k—x)

dx^
rf*X

dx*

Hence, we have this series of equations
X = — +{k—j^)-

--=izr:^+h(k-x)

'dx

dx^ '

'dx*

These equations, when combined with tbe equation/ {k)
ou+X{k—x),

gives us

dx
du ,

fk= u + - {k-x)+ -j;rik~ocf

u {k—xY

/*= « + Jj(^— )+

dX
dx
d''

dx*

d^X

' dx''

he.

(k—x)3

and hence again, by substituting r-f A for k, but still re-
taining k In the function X, so that

x^/C^)-" _/(0-/-W

k — X k — X '

where k is to be considered as a constant quantity, and x
alone as variable, we have
/{x+h)=:u+Xh,

Ax+,)=u+'£,.+ ''^-

j-r . ,^ du

/(x+h)=u+ ^/' +

„, N du '

/(x-f A)=«-f - h +

d^X h*
"^ dx^ 2.3 ■
If we suppose the series to proceed ad injinitum, then,

without paying any regard to the expression , which

enters into each finite developement of the function, wc
hajve

dx " '

d'-u h^ d^X
dx^ 2 ' rf,r^
d'^u A^ d^u

A3
T'
A»

dx"- 2 ^ dx^

2.3

J{x+h)=u+ ^ A +

d^u A'

d*u h*

dx'' 2
, + &c.

d'^u A'
dx^ 2.3

' dx'* 2.3.4'

This formula, remarkable for its elegance and simplici-
ty, was first found by Dr Taylor, an eminent' English ma-
thematician, who published it in a work called Methodus
Incrernentorum, about the year 1716, and is commonly call-
ed Taylor's Theorem. Sir Isaac Newton gave a similar for-
mula in his Princi/iia, where he treats of the theory of
comets, but it is applicable to a series of quantities having
finite diff'erences. Newton's formula becomes Taylor's
theorem, when the differences are indefinitely small. This
theorem has considerably excited the attention of mathema-
ticians ever since the late M. Lagrange proposed to make
it the basis of the fluxional or differential calculus, first in
the Memoirs of the Berlin Academy for 1772, and after-
wards in his Theorie des Fonctio7is Analytiques. The de-
monstration of it given here, is taken from a Memoir by M.
Ampere, published in the thirteenth Caliier of the Journal
de I'Ecole Poly technique. It is simple and very elegant.
Lagrange has also given an elegant demonstration, which
has been improved by M. Poisson, and is now equally com-
plete as that which we have here adopted, but more diffuse.

53. We shall now apply Taylor's theorem to the deve-
lopement of the five elementary functions, which have so
often come under our consideration.

1st. Let f[x)z=u=:x" , then, (rule (A) art. 26),
du

\)x^-^

l)(rz— 2)xn-3,

&c.

Therefore, by the formula, /(^-|-A ), that is, (x-|-A)''=

x" -fnx''-'A-(- ^^^^x"-2A^-f &c.

the same expression as we have already found, (preceding
article.)

2d. Let./(x)=: u = long, x, then supposing b to be the
basis of the system, and putting B for 1. (6), we have, by
rules (B) and (A), art. 26.
du_ 1 d'^u _ 1 d^u _ 2

dx Bx

dx'

Bcr

dx^

Bx^

140

FLUXIONS.

d* u

•2.3 d^ u 2 . 3 . ,4

, Scq.

"dx" ~ Hx*' d .1:5 ~~ li x'

Therefore, subsliuning these expressions in the general

formula, we gcty(a' + A), or loi^. (x+/i) =

'°^- "■ + F ^ T — 2i^ + -3:ir- -JIT + ^<^- S

By transposing the first term log. x, and observing that
log.(.x+//)— log. x= log. — — = log. (l+— ),
this formula becomes

• Sec.

X' Mix '2x' ox^

From this series, every thing relative to the calculation of
logarithms may be foimJ, as we have shewn in our article
Algehra.

3d. Next, let/(:(:)=.M=a-^,let A= l.(a) ; then, by rule
(C), art. 26,
d u . d~ u . „ d" u . „ „

dx^
= AV>-, Sec.

{A-lr A3/i'

d X ' dx'^ ' dxi'

d*u

dx*

Therefore, substituting in the general formula, we find
/(x+/i) or a •''"'= a ■»■«'' =

^'''* , c,. I
1.2 '1.2.3' 12.3.4''" 'J

Let both members of this equation be divided by a-'^ , and

then changing /i into x, we have

, , ^ , A'^-x^ , A3r3 A^x* , „
c-^-=l+A. + -^+.^+^-^+&c.

If we suppose .rr=l, then,

A2 A^
a=l+A4-— + -;;^+S^c.

and if we make .r= — ; then,

A. . . . . 1

.*=i + i+_+-

-+ Sec.

Thus the quantity a * is a constant number, which is the

value of a, when A=l. By taking the sum of a suf-

i_
Ticient number of terms of the series, we find a ^ — .

3.71 828 18'2845904.5.

i_
Let this number be denoted by c, and then a'^ =: e, and
a=c'^. As A is the Napierean logarithm of a, e must be
the basU or radical number in Napier's system. We have
found its value by a different mode of proceeding in art. 12.
Since a z=e^, therefore n* = e^-^, = c'', putting x' instead
of A ^ ; hence, an exponential quantity, of which the basis
js any number a, may be transformed into anotlier, having
the determinate number e for its basis, Avhich is such that
1. (c)=l. On this account, the number e is an important
element in analysis.

4th. Suppose nowthat/(a;)=M= sin. a-, by rule (D) art.
25, we have

dx
d* u

; cos. X,

d X

^=sm. :r.

d" u
d x~
rfS u

= — sin. Xs

dxS

d x-
= COS. X, kc.

= — cos. .r ;

Therefore, in this case, the general formula gives/ (.r+/;)
■= sin. (3^+A) =

sm. x-\-ii COS. X — sm.x cos. ^

3.3.4

sm. X ■

.3.4.5

COS. -T — Sjc.

5th. Lct/(x)=M=cos, a:, then, rule (D) art. 26,

dx
d" u
dx*

= — sm.x,

-; — - = — COS. X, ■
d X- d .

d^ u

rf3 u

= sui. ar,

= COS. X,

d xi

= — sin. x, Sec

and hence /(x-i-/j)=cos. (x+A)=:

cos. X — A sin. j:— — - COS. J? + — sin. a
2 ^ 2.3

, A* //' . ,

A COS. X — sin. X — tec

2.3.4 2.3.4.3

If we put
P=l_^+

2 . ;

. 4

,5 .6
A'

+ Sec

Sec.

Q=A_ -^+

2.3^2.3.4.5 2.3.4.5.6.7

these dcvclopcments of the functions sin. (.r+/')) ^^'^ ^'^^•
(x+A) become

Sin. {x-\-}i)-=-V sin. .r+Q cos. x,

Cos. (.(:+A) = P COS. j:--»Q sin. x ;
But, by the Arithmetic of Hints,

Sin. (,r+/i) = cos. A sin. x+sin, A cos. x,

Cos. (x+A)=cos. A cos. X — sin. h sin. jr.
From these equations we get

(P — cos. A) sin. x+(Q — sin. A) cos. x=rO,

(P — COS. A) cos. X — (Q — sin. A) sin. x=0 ;
and hence, again,

P — cos. A=0, Q — sin. A=0 ;
therefore, cos. A = P ; sin. A=Q, that is, putting x instead
of A,

Cos.

'-T+2-

; .4

4.5.6

+ Sec.

Sin. X =x •

.4.5

.4.5.6.7

+ &C.

54. Resuming Tavlor's theorem, viz.

/(x+A(=u+

du.

d^ u A^ . d^ u h^

+ Sec.

dx" ' d x'^ 2 ' dx^ 2.3
where a denotes /"(x).

Let us suppose that when x = 0, then / (x), or ti, be
comes U ; and tiiat, upon the same hypothesis, the func-
tions — — , - — ^, - — r, Sec. become U', U", U'", Sec. re-

T'-II+U"'^+Uiv-£- +5ec.
2 2.3 2.3 4

d X ' dx ^ ' d x^'
spectively. The theorem then gives us, when x^O,

/(A)=U + U'A + U"^+U'"^+ Sec.

As A denotes here any quantity whatever, we may put x
instead of A, and then we have

/(x)— U+U'x+U

This elegant formula for the developement of a function,
has, of late years, been ascribed by the French mathema-
ticians to our ingenious countryman, Maclaurin, who gave
it in his Treatise of Fluxions, Book II. Art. 751, (printed
in 1742). We observe, however, that Maclaurin seems
to consider it as identical with Taylor's theorem, to which
indeed it is closely allied. It appears to have been little
attended to, until the celebrated La Place brought it into
notice, by employing it about the year 1777, in a memoir
on the developement of functions; and it is now com-
monly denominated, by the French writers, IMaclaurin's
theorem.

55. To exemplify the utility of this theorem, let us sup-
pose, 1st. that /(x)— «— (a + .r)", ?i being any constant
quantity, then,

FLUXIONS.

141

—■=Zn (a+J^)"-',
ax

-, &c. will be more complex than in these examples.

On the other hand, wc may find series which shall express
the arc by meims ol" the cosine, the sine, or the tangent,
kc. We select the last as the most simple. Let /(x)^^
■u:^JiVC, o{ which the tangent is or: then tan. !/~jr, and

when xZZQ, then uoY{a+x)'' becomes a" which is there- rfy— (art. 35.) = :r-ZZdx cos. ^21; therefore,

fore the value U. Also, by making xZZQ in the values of ' -^^ '"''' '"

^3=n(n-l) {n-2) (a + .r)"-3, £.c.

i+x'^

sec. 'u

d u d^u d'u ,

— , , -— . Sec. we get

d r rfx^ dx^

V—na'^-\ U"=:«(?i— 1)q"--, U"'=^(?i— 1)("— 2)a"-^
&c. These expressions, when substituted in the general
theorem, give us

(a+x)" ~a" -f n a"-'x -| j

{n—\) , , .

. („_1) In— 2) „ , 3 , ,
-i '-^ --^a"-' x'+ U.C.

-i . 3

Thus we have another demonstration of the binomial theo-
rem.

2d. Next let it be required to develope the function log.
(a + ,r) into a scries. In this case, putting B for 1. (6) (6
being the basis of the system), we have

KlZlog. (n-}-x);

d u

d'u

d' u

dx B {a + x) dx^
d*u 2.3

B(G-fx)2' dx'

B{a + xy^ dx^~ ii{a+x)^'

Now let .r^O, then u becomes log. azzU, and the value

of — becomes .=r-lzU'; in like manner we find U"~ —
' dx Ha

B^' ^'-F^' ^' --

2 . 3

Ba"

, &c.

Hence, from the formula, we get

log. C«+^)=log. a -f i- ^ f~S+ ^-»=<=- ]
the same expression as was found in Art. 5 3.

3d. Next, let /(-r)— i^^n* ; then putting A for I. (a);

du , d~u . , „ d^u ,„

— — Aa*,---~A''a*, — -rnA-^a-^, &c. Now whence—

dx dx^ dx^

0, then (J'^^l, therefore, in this case,

U=l, U'rrA, U"=:A%U"'=:A'% Sec.

and substituting these in the general formula, we get

A2jr2 A^x^ A.'-x*

2.3.4

f/ M

4th. Let fix') "^uZZ sin. x; in this case — ^: cos, .?•,

(/^u . d^u d* u

— -~ — sm. X, - — -— — cos. X, - — -."sm. x, Sec.

dx^ dx-- dx*

Now, when .rrrO, then sin. jr~0, and ens, x — 1, there-
fore,

u=:o, U'=i, U"zro, U"'=— !, ui^=:o, &c.

and the general formula gives in this case,

Sec.

X^ X'

2.3^ 2.3.4.5

2.3.4.5.6.7

5th. If /(x)— u^cos. X; then-— n — sin. x, - — ^

djc dx"

d u_
dx~

(')

Regarding now cos. w as a function of «, which again is a

function of x, and considering dx as constant, we have

' d^ u
(by rules (A) and (D) art. 26.)—— — — 2du sin. wxcos.

u, but we have seen that d it^d x cos. '~u, therefore, sub-
stituting for du its value in the second member of the
last equation, and also putting sin. 2 u for 2 sin. u cos. «>
we have

d~Ti 9 . „ ,^,

— — cos. z(sm. 2«. (2)

dx-

From this equation, by taking the fluxions (by rule (F)

art. 29. and rules (A), (D) art. 26.), we get

d^u

^ — 2 d u cos. u fcos. 2 21 cos. Ji — sin. 2 u sin. u).

dx'- ^ _ ''_

Let the value of du be substituted instead of it in the
second member, and also cos. 3 u instead of cos. 2 u cos.
11 — sin. 2 u sin. ii, to which it is equal, (Arithmetic of
Sixes, art. 7.), then dividing hydx, we have

d^u „ T „ /„N

~ — 2 cos. zj COS. 3 u. (3)

dx^ ^ '

From this equation, again, by proceeding as before, we

find

tXZ2.3 COS. "^u Sin. 4 u,

dx*

d' u
dx^
Sic

—2.3.4 cos. ^u COS. 5 u,

(4)
(5)

d'u

Now when jt^O, then uzz.0, and cos.t/, cos. 3m, cos.
5 II, Sec. are each^l; also sin. j^, sin. 2 u, sin. 4 k, Sec. are'
eachzzO. Hence, from the formulae (1), (2), (3), (4), Sec.
we have

U=o, U'rzi, U"i=o, U"'= — 2, U"-:=:o, U'r^ 2.3.4, Sec.
and recurring to the general formula, we get in this
case

X ' X ^ x^

m(— arcto tan. ar)— J^ — '-^-1-- — &c.

^ ^ 3^57

The preceding investigation affords an elegant example
of the utility of the arithmetic of sines in the fluxional cal-
culus.

55. In the examples to which we have applied Maclau-
rin's theorem, the quantities U, U', Sec. have all finite va-
lues. If in any case one or more of them have an infinite
value, we may conclude that the function does not admit of
being expressed by a series, the terms of which are posi-
tive integer powers of or. The function u=\. (.r)is of this

^ , ., (lu \ (i^ u 1

nature ; lor, from it we get — = -— , -j— -^ = — -^,

X d X X

^°^- ""' ^3=^'"- ^> iT^=^°^- ^' ^<=- When x=0, then d_^^ _2^^ ^^ ^^^ supposition that x = 0 renders

dx^ x"

cos. x^l, and sin. xznO, therefore,

U=l, U'ZZO, U"=: — 1, U"'=0, Ui^=l, Sec

:+&c.

-— — — IT an infinite quantity ; in like manner the quan-
dx 0 1 / ) 1

and cos. xzzl 1

2 ^ 2.3.4

2.3.4.5.6

titles

d^ u d' u

d x'~^ d x^
In like manner, we may develope the function w— tan. x, ^jon u itself.

. cl It

and w— sec. x into series ; but the expressions for

, Sec. become all infinite as well as the furfc-

dx'

_„ . . , , , ► , , du d'^ u .

1 he quantities denoted bytne symbols -r-,-. — j-j "C

(tx d X

FLUXIONS.

only become infinite, however, when particular values arc
given to x ; tlieierorc it will always be possibl'-, by Tay-
lor's thcorcni, to dcvclopc any liinclion ,/'(x+/i) into a
series proceeding by the integer and [) jsilive powers ot A,
provided we suppose x to be an nulelcrniinate quantity ;
when, by giving it a detiriiiinate value, the co-etTicients of
/i become infinite, it may be conclu.led, that, although in
general the lunction may be developed into a scries, the
terms of which contain only the integer and positive powers
of A in that particular case, it will not admit of being so ex-
pressed. For example, let m:=6 + (x — a) ; then, when x'

becomes x + h, we have b+{x^h — a) for the new value
or the second state of the function ; and because in this

c/ii
case — — iz-

ctx

4(.

2 ( X — a ) ■*
lor's theorem, we have,

, Ecc. by Tay-

2(x— o)

-h'+ Sec.

a{x — a) 2
In the particular case of xzz.a, or x — c^O, the quantity

to be developed, viz. b-i-(x-{-/i — a)"^, becomes 6-f/i''^ ; an ex-
pression containing a fractional power of A, and which has
the twofold value b-\-is/h and b — vZ/'i because the sign of a
square root may be taken either + or — : As the deve-
lopement contains only positive integer powers of A, rela-
tively to this quantity, it can only have a single value, and
therefore it is impossible that it should express the func-
tion in this particular case. Accordingly, when we make

x'ZZa.'wi the developenient, its first term uZZb -\-{x — a)
becomes 6; but the co-efficient of its second term, viz.

d-'"' 1 , 1 .-. • c •. I

, becomes , a quantity innnitely great.

2{x—aY 2{p)-

and the same is true also of the co-efficients of the third
and following terms. Thus the analytical fact, that the
developement cannot in this particular case represent the
function, is indicated by its terms failing to express any
thing definite. If, however, we give to x any value, ex-
cept that of jc^ra, the function is correctly expressed by
its developement.

b . , .

; in this case,

Next, let the function be m~
du 2 6 d'^u 6 b

dx~{x—ay'dx'
developement of
tion) is

■{x-ay

{x-ar
, &c. therefore the general

{x -f h—ay
24

(the second state of the func-

i^ + ;

,h'—hc.

value of that quantity ; and in such cases, it is usual to say
that Taylor's tlieor(;m Jhils, that is, in its ap|>lication.
Lagrange first cleared up this point, and shewed tlial when,
by giving a particular value to x, the new state of the

function contains terms of the form P/i~"orQ/in, that is,
negative or fractional powers of A, then, from the very na-
ture of the calculus, all the co-efficients of the general de-
velopement, after a certain term, will become infinite. On
the other hand, when a particular value ol x renders the
co-efficients infinite, we may conclude that the develope-
ment ought, in that particular case, to contain fractional or
negative powers of/;.

Of Vanishing Fraclionn, ta'c.

57. A vanishing fraction is a fractional function of a
variable quantity x of such a form, that its numerator and
denominator become both =0 when a particular vaiue is

jc^ a*

given to jr. Such, for example, is this, , which

(x — ay {x — a)3 ^(x — a)-
In the particular case of x^za, every term of the de-
velopement becomes infinite ; but then the value of the

quantity indicated by the developement is —^^zb h~^, an

expression in \^hich the exponent of A is negative : As the
developement contains only positive powers of A, it could
not express the new value of the function in this particular
case. Whenx has any other value, the general develope-
ment will always hold true.

As a general formula commonly contains all individual
cases, it has been regarded as in some measure a paradox
in analysis, that the general developement of a function of
a variable quantity should not apply to every particular

when x=za becomes-; however, by remarking that

x* a*

jT^ — a^ ~ (x — a)(x-fa), it will appear that ~

x-i-a, so that the value of the fraction when x'^a, is in
fact a-)-aZl2 a, hence it appears that the fraction has in
this case a reaf assignable value ; and we also see that it

assumes the form - only because its numerator and de-
nominator have a common factor, which is ihenzzO.

The fraction

x^ — x^a — xa^ -J-a^

has also the property

of becoming -, when xz^a : The numerator and de-
nominator have a common divisor x — a, and this being

taken out of both, the fraction is changed to :

Upon the supposition thatx^o, this last quantity be-
comes manifestly ^ 0. Therefore, when xZZa, the frstC'

tion

X — X a — xa -f-x

becomes ^zO.

a X — a

Aeain, this other fraction — ^^-^ — 5 becomes

■^ x^ — 2ax-(-a^ 0

when x~a ; but by taking the common divisor x — a out

of the numerator and denominator, the fraction is changed

to ; and this expression when x=a becomes — an m-

X — a • *^ 0

finite quantity.

Hence we see that a vanishing fraction may in some
cases have a finite value, and that in others it may be no-
thing, or infinite ; but in every case its value may be deter-
mined by freeing the numerator and denominator from the
factors common to both. When the terms of the fraction
are rational functions of x, this may be done by finding
their common measure, as is taught in Algebra, art. 72.
But when they are irrational or transcendental quantities,
this method fails.

P
58. Let-^ denote generally a fraction, the terms of which

P and Q are functions of x, that vanish when x=o, some
given quantity. Suppose x to become x-\-h, then, by Tay-
lor's theorem, P becomes P4- -r— A -|- ^ „ -— + &c. and'

dx dx^ 2

Q becomes Q-{- --^ A -J- :r-T"-!r + ^'^- ^""^ ^^^ fraction

c ."V a X A

becomes

FLUXIONS.

143

d X

d^P h^

djc' 2

7+&C.

a^—b' 0

Ex. 3. Tlie fraction becomes — when x— Oj

X 0 —

djc'

Let us denote the fluxional co-efficients

rfP d^P

d X dx

&c.

briefly by P', V", &c. and -^, ^, &c. by Q', Q', &c.

then observing that when x—a, P=0, Q=0, we have, af-
ter dividing by h,

P'-HP^y-&c.

Q'4.,Q"// + &c.

for the nevif value of the fraction. If we make /;— 0, this

P'
expression becomes simply ^, which must be the value

of the fraction — , when xzzia, because it is evidently the

Here

dVzZ^a'h (a)— 4*1. (A) Xdx; dq_ — dx;

dY> _a'--\.{a)—b^\. {b) _["

dq— i — 0^'

when x:^0, — becomes 1. (a) — 1. (b)zz\.(-^], which is

the value required.

59. The rule of last article will not in general apply, if
Taylor's theorem docs not s^ivc the developements of the
functions P, Q in the case of x::za. When this happens,
we may substitute a+/i, instead of x, in the fraction
P

— , and develope the numerator and denominator into as-
cending series of the form A ?i'" + B/i" -f-C /;/> -f kc. A'A"'

same thing to suppose first, that x=x+A, and afterwards +B'/i''' + C'AP'+ Sec. We have then, instead of — , this

that x~a and A^O, as to suppose at once that x^Za. If it
happen that one of the two quantities P', Q', is equal to 0,

P . .

then the fraction — is either nothing, or infinite ; but if

both are =0, then, after rejecting P' and Q' from the ge-

■ P"
neral expression, and dividing again by h, we have — ;, for

the value of the fraction, in the case of a;=a; and so on.

Hence this rule.

P 0

To find the value of -— , a fraction which becomes —

when x=a. Divide the fluxion of the numerator by that

of the denominator, let the result be —, ; then if this ex-
pression does not become — , when a is substituted for x,

r Q '

it is the value sought ; but if it does treat this fraction in all
respects as the other was treated, deducing from it a new

P"
fraction y^, and proceed in this manner, until an expres-
sion be found which does not become — by the substitu-

0 '

tion of (I for x ; and the first expression that occurs having
this property is the value sought.

other fraction,

Alt'" -^^h" ■\-Qhf -fSec.
A'/i"*' -\-ii'li^' + VhP' + Sec."

or,dividing tlie numerator and denominator by A"',

A'+ 1/ /;"'-'"' -j- C hf-"'' + &;c. ■
Under this form, it is easy to see, that if m be greater
than to', the supposition that /;— 0, makes the fraction —0 ;
and that if «! = ?;!■', the same supposition reduces the frac-

tion to — , ; because whatever be the value of A, A"*-"''— A"

^1 ; lastly, if m be less than m', so that m — m' is negative,
then, when /i~0, the fraction becomes infinite. Hence this
rule.

Seek the first terms of the ascending series, which are
the developements of tiie numerator and denominator, when
Q-f A is substituted in them instead of x. Reduce to its
lowest terms the new fraction formed from these first
terms, and then make A— 0 ; the result will be the value
of the fraction when x^zm : And this rule will apply in eve-
ry case.

Example Let the fraction be

x^—iax- + 7 a"^ x—2 a^ — 2 a'^ \/(2 a x—a'^)

x^ — 2a X — a ^ + ^a^{2ax — x") '

Ex. 1. The sum of n terms of the series \-{-x+x^-^x^ and let its value be sought when x=a. When a-J-A is

-fScc. is

x—\

If we suppose a~l, this expression be-

comes—. It is i-equired to find in that case its value.

Here P^x" — 1, Qrzx — 1, therefore d Pznux^-^dx, rfQrz

d P war""' P' , , .
rfjT, and „ ^ — — -7v" 1'his expression, when 1

is put for X, becomes — iz«, which is the value sought,

substituted for jr, the fraction becomes

2a^-f2a'/;— c/;^ +/';■•' —2a'^ra'-f2fl A )
~2a'-{-/r- + 2ay {a ■'—/?) '

Now, by the binomial theorem.

^{a'-i-2a/,)z=a+h-

+ ■

SA"

2a ' 2a'^
h*

- + &C.

&c.

as is otherwise sufficiently evident.

Ex. 2. Let the fraction be

ax^-^ac — 2acx
bx'^—2bcx-i-bc^

, which be-

comes — when x'^c. In this case,
0

rf P = (2 a X — 2 ac)dx; d Q=(2 b x — 2 bc)dx,
rfP ax—ac P'

2a &a^

When these series are subsiiuited for the radical quan-
tities, and h is made =0, we get — Sa for the value of the
fraction.

60. If P and Q are function s of J-, such that when x^ia,
then PzzO, and Qzz infinity, which is expressed by the
character oo, it may be proposed to find the value of the

product PQ, in that particular case. Put R::^^; then the

d Q bx — b c Q' value of «, which renders Q infinite, will make RzzO ; and

P' 0 P

This fraction --;, becomes also -— , when x— c, therefore, as PQiZ-^, the value of jr, which makes PQ— Ox<» , will

proceeding as before, dV'^.adx ; dC^'^zbdx; and , P 0 _,,

(/ p» a make-^zi-— . fhe problem may therefore be resolved

::T7rr— -T-) which is the value sought. , , , r

<^Q A ° by the rules of art. 58, and art. 59.

144

FLUXIONS.

Ex. Supposing ic to repieseiil a semicircle, and x any
arc, the expression (1 — jc) x tan. ( J^r^r) becomes Ox«

when xzz 1. Here V=z\—x Q =tan. (W.r), R=-7y =

p 1 X

cot. (Atx), and — = -, ; whenorrsl this expression

becomes

R cot.(i5ra;)
Now d V=—d -r, and d R = —

^■Tr d X

sin.^(t!rj)

(art. 34). Hence in the case of r— 1, we have ——3- — —
for the value of the expression (I — j:) tan. (ia-jc.)

Of the Greatest and Least Values of a Function.

61 . If y be a function of a variable quantity x, of such a
nature, tliat x being supposed to increase or decrease con-
tinuaUy, y increases to a certain value, but afterwards de-
creases : when xj has that extreme value, it is said to be a
maximum. And, on the other hanil, if y decrease to a cer-
tain value, and then increase; when it has that particular
value, it is said to be a minimum. The co-ordinates of a
plane curve may conveniently be employed to indicate the
relative changes of magnitude in a variable tjuantity, and
any lunclion of that quantity. In Plate CCLV. Fig-. I. let
CQD be a curve, referred to an axis AIJ, and such tlmt, if
any abscissa AP be taken to represent x ; the correspond-
ing ordinate PQ may represent the function y. Also, let
us suppose that the curve recedes from the axis in that
part of it between C and Q', and then approaches between
Q' and Q"; and again recedes between Q" and Q'", and re-
turns towards the axis in the branch QD ; and so on. Sup-
pose now the ordinate PQ to move parallel to itself from
C along the axis, it will increase from C to Q': in the po-
sition i-'Q', it will be a maximum; then it will decrease, and
in the position P"Q" it will be a minimum ; afterwards it
v/ill increase, and again be a maximum in the position
P"'Q"', and so on ; so that it may have various tnaxima and
minima unequal among themselves, the essential chamcter
of a maximum consisting in this, t/iat the values ivhieh im-
mediately jirecedci or vjhieh immediately follovj it, are small-
er ; on the contrary, the minimum is exceeded by the values
luhich immediately firccede and follorj it.

62 It is an immediate consequence of this characteris-
tic property, that if a be the value of .r, which renders y a
maximum or minimum, and li a-^h, and also a — /;,be substi-
tuted instead of x in the function, then both results will be
less than a maximum value of y, but they will be both great-
er than a minimum value. Now, whatever be the value of
X, \i x.\-h and x — h be substituted instead of j: in the func-
tion y ; by Taylor's theorem, (art. 52.) it will become in
the one case,

, dy , , d-y h^ , d^y h^ , „

and in the other,

dy , d-y /i^ d-'y h" , „

y -hA ~ ^ f-&c.

^ dx ^ dx- 2 tlx^ 2.3

therefore, when a is substituted for x in these two deve-
lopements, they will both be less than a maximum value of
the function, and both greater than a minimum value ; but
when this substitution is made, the first term y becomes,
by hypothesis, the maximum or minimum value. There-
fore, in the case of a maximum, we must have

y-d-r''+dx-^

d^y A'

2 "^ dx3

d^y

27j
h'

2 dx^ 3.3
and taking y from each side,

dy d^y h^ d^y

+ &C..£iy ;

+ fx"+^T+
dx "^ dx^

dx^
d'y

— +8cc.^P,
-f Scc..,£:10 ,

2 dx-' 2 3
and similarly in the case of a minimum,

(B)
dy , , diy h^ , dh/ AJ ,

d^-y A'

dx3

d^ii

2.3

'^.

; + £^c.'

dx ' ' dx^ 2 dx3 2.3
Now, as we are at liberty to take h as small as we please,
we may suppose it so small, that in each series the amount
of all the terms after the first shall be incomparably less
than that term;* then the amount of all the terms in each
series will have the same sign as its first term, provided

that — , the co-efficient of A in that term, is not =0, for

then the term itself would be =0 : now this must really be

the case, that is, -— must be =0; for were it otherwise, A
dx

might be taken so small, that one of each pair of series (A),
(B) would be a positive, and the other a negative quantity,
and the same would also be true for every smaller value of
A. But this would not accord with the nature of a maxi-
mu?yi uv minimum, which requires, that in the first case, the
two series should be both less than 0; and that, in the se-
cond, they should be greater than 0 : therefore, when the

function j/ is a maximum or minimum, we must have — =

0 ; and then it will follow, that in the former case,

_rf^A^
dx"- 2 "^
d-^y A^

d^y A-* d*y A*

dxi-S

dhj

dx"- 2

dx^

h
-6 +

dx*
d*

24
y A*

+ &C.iilO,

dx* 24

-hc^O.

and in the latter,
d^y h\^

d^y A^ d*y h*

dx2
d'y

2
A2

dx'

cPy

6
h'

dx* 24

-fScc.-:P'0,

d*y h*
dx* 24

dx- 2 rfx3 6
In all these series, the sign of the first term is the same ;
therefore, when A is a very small quantity, so that the
amount of all the terms after the first is incomparably less
than that term, the amount of all the terms in each pair will
have the same sign as they ought, and this will also be true
for every smaller value of A. Moreover, as in the case of

a tnaximum, each series must be .^0, therefore

d^y
dx^

the

co-efficient of the first term, must be a negative quantity.
In the case of a minimum, however, each series is "p^O, and

therefore — — ^ must be positive.
dx' '

If, however, the substitution of a for x in the develope-

" For, supposing the series tobe/i /i-}-9A=-|-r A'-j- fee. let it be put under this form /'(p-\-<f h-\-rh--\- t
same; but the expression 9 A-f-r A=+ £tc. decreases, and may be less '.ban any thing assignable ; therefore,
in any ratio of inequality whatever.

&c.) As A decreases p remains the
p h may exceed h{<jh-{-r /i--|-&c.)

FLUXIONS.

145

ments makes not only -r-~0( Ijul a'so -; — 2-~0; theti, to
' dx doc'

satisfy the condition of the maximum., we must have

d^y h^ , rf*!/ A* , ,

/i3

- +

rf*y

rfx3 6 ' djT* 24
and in the case of the minimum.

Sec.*

djc^
d^y

T+

24^

:o;

'0,

rf:ir*24

dx^ &

By pursuing the same train of reasoning as before, it will
appear, that these conditions can only be satisfied when we

have also — ^— ::z 0 : and so on.
dx^

63. Upon the whole, it appears that when y, any func-
tion of a single variable quantity x, is a maximuin or mini-
mum, then — ~ 0 ; and that if the value of x, determined
dx

fiom this equation, make

dx^

a negative quantity, the

function t/ is a maximum; but if it be a positive quantity,

then y is a minimum. If, however, this value of x render

d^u d^y

— 2_ —0 ; then, unless at the same time it make — '-r'^0,

dx^ dx^

the function can neither be a maximum nor a minimum,
d^y

we have

dxi

:z:0, the function y will be a maximum, when

is negative, and a minimiun when this expression is

-rza — 2 ^rzO.

d*y

dx*

posirive ; and so on, the first fluxional co-efficient which

does not vanish, being always of an even order when y can

have a maximum or ?ninimum value.

The correct theory oi 7naxima and minima, was first given
by Maclauriii in his Fiuxions, Book I. chap. 9.

Example 1. To divide a right line into two such parts,
thai the rectangle contained by its segments shall be the
greatest possible.

Let the whole line be a, and one of its segments x ; then
the other will be a — a- ; and the rectangle, x(a — x^z^ax—
x^. Therefore, we must have y:ziax — .v^, a maximum ;
hence, by tne general rule,

dx'
This equation gives jcZZia. Moreover, since we have

. \ZZ. — 2, a negative quantity, we infer that the value x
d X

■ZZi a corresponds to a maximum ; which is also easily

proved upon other principles.

Ex. 2. To find the fraction that exceeds its cube by the
greatest quantity possible.

Let X be the fraction, then we must give such a value to
X, that y:zix — x^ shall be a maximum. In this case.

therefore, xiz =±=.^4- ^'^"^ since

vZ-ji it follows from the rule, that the maximum value of
the function corresponds to x'^:-\-y/^; but it has also a mi-
nimum value corresponding to .r~ — ^\.

Ex. 3. To determine the greatest rectangle that can be
inscribed in a given triangle.

Let ABC (^ig. 2. Plate CCLV.) be the given triangle,
and EFGH the greatest rectangle that can be inscribed in

Vol. IX. Part. I.

it. Draw the peqiendicular AD meeting XF in G. Put
BC^:a ; AD^iA; EF~jr ; and the area of the rectangle
EFGHiTi/. By similar triangles, BC : AD : : EF : AG ;

that 1%, a : h : : x : AG ; hence AG:r — ; and DG— A

a a

n]-^^ -, and DG xEF~— (a x — x'^)z2y, therefore,

^ = i.(a-2x)=0;
dx a

hence o~2 jT, and .r;::}a. The altitude of the rectangle

is therefore half that of the triangle.

64. When the quantity which is to be a maximum or
minimum is multiplied or divided by any constant quanti.
ty, that quantity may be rejected: Thus we may reject

— , and make yz=:a x — x^ ; which will lead to the same rc>-
a

suit. In general, when a variable function is the greatest
or least possible, any constant multiple or part of that func-
tion, also any constant power or root of it, will be the great-
est or least possible. In some cases, it may be convenient
to remark, that when a cjuantity increases or decreases, its
logarithm increases or decreases.

65. Ex. 4. Of all right angled triangles having the same
hypothenuse, find that which has the greatest area.

Let ABC be the triangle (Fig. 3.) ; put the common hy-
pothenuse AC=a; the variable base A B=:a: ; the area =:i/.
Then, because by the elements of geometry, BC=v/{a*
— x3), we Wave z/ = Jx^(a' — o:^), and hence the value of.r
may be found as in the former examples. Or, we may re-
ject the factor A, and find x, so that the square of the ex-
pression xVia'^—x^'), may be a maximum (art. 64.), so
ting y'=x'^(a^ — x^), we have

that putting

dy' _
dx

2a^x— 4x^=0.

Hence x^^^^a^, from which it appears that the sides about
the right angle are equal. In this, as in the preceding ex-
ample, the nature of the question excludes the supposition
of a minimum.

Ex. 5. To determine the dimensions of a cylindric mea-
sure, open at the top, which shall contain a given quantity
(of liquor, grain, &c.) under the least internal superficies
possible.

Let ABCD be the measure (Fig. 4.) ; put the diameter
BC^x, the depth AB~i; ; the number that expresses the
circumference of a circle, of which the diameter is unity,
viz. 3.I4159:3t: and let c be the content of the cylinder.
Then, by geometry, a- x is the circumference of the base,
and TT XV is the concave surface of the cylinder. Also, the

area of the base is-

and the solid content is

which being made =£-, we find

this value of v

being put in the expression for the concave surface, it be-

4 c
comes ; therefore, the whole internal surface of the

cylinder is \

-, which being denoted by y, we have

Tx—'^x^~T—^'

d X'

— „3"i V

From the first of these equations, we get a- jr^~S c, and

— —3-, and hence '-—^■:^-^----,z.'& this is a positive quan-
x^ d X 2

titv, the expression we have found for rJ corresponds to a

146

FLUXIONS.

minimum value (art. 63.) Now, since v x^—i c, and tt x'v
^4 c J we have v x^ZI^i ^r.r^v, and hence x~2v ; thus it ap-
pears that the diameter of the base must be exactly double

c
the depth of the measure; also, that x=2^^ — .

Ex. 6. The flame of a candle is directly over the centre
of a circle, the radius of uhich is 12 inches: what ouq;ht
to be its height above the plane of the circle, so as to illu-
minate the circumference the most possible ?

Let BC be the candle, (rig. 5.) C the position of the
flame, and A any point in the circumference. 13y the prin-
ciples of optics, the intensity of the illumination of the plane
at any point will be directly as the sine of the angle of the
incident rays, and inversely as the square of the distance
from the luminous point : therefore, the effect of the candle

^ .„ . , , . , , , sin. CAB

to illummate the plane at A may be expressed by — t^-tz — •

v^ A

COS. CAB

; and so, re-

Put AB— o ; and sin. CAB=::r ; then, CA=:

therefore,

CAB_jr(l— x2)

^(l_a^)'- ' CA- a-

jecting the constant divisor a^, we have y— ^(1 — x^)^,r
—x^: Now we Jiave already found (in Ex. 2.), that this
function is a maximum, when -xi^^j : This makes the an-
gle CAB zz3o° 16', nearly, and AB : BC : : 1 : .71 nearly ;
therefore, BC::^8.5 inches.

Ex. 7. To tind the position of the planet Venus in re-
spect of the earth and the sun, when the area of the illumi-
nated part of her disk is a viaximum.

In Fig. 6. let S be the Sun, E the Earth, and the circle
ab c Venus. Draw V a and V b perpendicular to VS and
VE. The illuminated surface of Venus is the hemisphere
cba; but of this, only the part ba is turned towards the
Earth, and it appears as a luminous crescent contained be-
tween half the circumference of the disk and a semiellipse ;
the breadth of the crescent is the versed sine of the arc a b ;
but the angles D V c, EV 6 being equal, the angle a V b is
eqvial to the angle DVE ; therefore, the breadth of the cres-
cent is as the versed sine of the angle DVE. Now, by the
nature of the figure, the area of the crescent will be to the
area of the whole disk, as its breadth to the diameter, (as
is easily inferred from Comc Sections, Part VII. Prop.
3.), and again, the apparent area of the disk is inversely as
the square of the distance of the planet from the Earth :
therefore, the apparent illuminated area, as seen from the
Earth, will always be directly as the versed sine of the an-
gle DVE, and inversely as the square of EV, and may be

c(l— cos. EV' D) ^ cfl+cos.EVS) ,
-^ i, or by -^ — —^—-,_ -1 c bc-

expressed by -rx^ —

ing some constant quantity.

Put SV— a, SE=:6, VEiZ-r ; then, by trigonometry, cos.
„.,,.„ a^-^-x- — b^

o V 1:, _ . Let u denote the apparent illumma-

2ax ^ ' '

ted disk, then, from what has been shewn, we have
c{a3+xi + 2 a x—b^)

^~ 2axi '

therefore, taking the fluxions,

dy^ c(3 b^—S a' — 4 a x—x'-)

clx~ 2ai-' -~°*

Hence we have

.2.~"-f 4ax— 3(4- — a^),
9. quadratic equation, which gives

xZZ,y{3b^+a-)—2a.
If we make bzziOOO, then cizzT2i ; and hence .r— 429. In
ihe triangle SVE, it will be found that the angle E=40°
nearly. It is when Venus has this position, that she is
wiDCUmes seen in the day time. See Asxrono.my.

Ex. 8. To find the position of a straight rod, or beam,
when it rests in equilibrio upon a prop, and one end touch-
ing an upright wall.

It is a principle in mechanics, that when a body rests in
ecjuilibrio, its centre of gravity is either the highest or the
lowest possible. By this principle, the theory of maxima
ct minima may be elegantly applied to the resolution of in-
numerable problems in statics. In the present example,
let EF (Fig. 7.) be the wall, PR the prop, AB the beam
which touches the wall at B, and rests upon the prop at P.
Let C be the centre of gravity of the beam. Through P
draw the horizontal line DE, and draw CD perpendicular
to DE. Put PE— a, CB— 6, these are given quantities;
also, put PD~a', DC— y : Then, by the principles of me-
chanics, y must be the greatest possible.

From simular figures, BC : DE : : PC : : PD ; that is
b: a-\-x:: ^[xxJfXj^\: x ; Hence,

{a+xy{x^-W)^b-'x\
and taking the fluxions, and dividing by 2 d x,

(a + x) (x^.fy^)+(„+x)^ (^x+y'irj^i^-^.

Because y is ajnaximum, -— = 0, therefore this last equa-
tion may be abbreviated to

{a+x){x'+y"-)+x{a+xy' = b'x.
When we have climiiiaied x^+y', by this and the Erst
equation, we get

[a-{-T/sa b' .
Hence x is determined.

In this example, as well as in some others, for the sake
of brevity, we have assumed the possibility of the quantity
y having a maximum, as it is sufficiently indicated by the
nature of the question. For, supposing P the point of sup-
port, to be between C and the wall, if B, the end of the rod,
be carried along a vertical line FE, the line DC:=y will
manifestly increase to a certain point, and then decrease.

65. In explaining this theory, we have only considered
functions of a single variable quantity. When the expres-
sion to be a maximum ov minimum contains functions of two
or more variable quantities, wliich are independent of one
another, the general theory becomes more intricate, and
its complete explanation would swell this article beyond
the limits we can allo'w to it. We must therefore refer, on
this point, to Euler's Calculus Differenlialis-, Part 2d, Chap,
xi ; to Lagrange's Theorie des J''oncli'j?is ^inaiytiques, No.
160; and to Lacroix's Traite du Calcul Differenticl, Vol.
I. No. 165.

Method of Tangents.

67. Let CPD be any curve referred to an axis AB,
(Fig. 8.) and let PQ, P'Q' bo two consecutive ordinates,
and AQ AQ' the corresponding abscissre, A being the ori-
gin of the co-ordinates. Tlirough P', P draw the secant
P'PS, meeting the axis in S, and draw PE parallel to the
axis, meeting F'Q' in E. Put the abscissa AQ=x, the or-
dinate PQ=!/, and QQ' (the increment of .r)=A. As y is
a function of x, when x becomes x.\.h, by Taylor's the-
orem (art. 5 3) y becomes

dx''^ dx^ 2 ■*"a'x3
of y corresponding to x-f/j ; therefore,

^ ^^ dx dx"- 2^dx^2.3^

I/-f ^/'+ '^rh V+ T^V-, + ^c. but F'Q' is the valua.

d X

V . , F'E

|/r-f &c. atid — -—

P'E_ rfy
dx

= ^-+./P^^

FLUXIONS.

147

-f Sec. Now

P'E
PE

is the tilgoiiometrical expression for

the tangent of the angle P'PEj or S ; therefore,
d y' d}y h d^y A"

tan. S =

;+ ,;„2 o +

&c.

Suppose now QQ'=A, the increment of x, to be continual-
ly diminished ; when Q' comes to Q, the two points of in-
tersection P', P coincide, and the secant P'PS becomes PT,
a tangent to the curve at P ; and as the angle S becomes
then the angle T, and A=0, we have

tan. angle T= ^. (1.)

The segment TQ of llie axis comprehended between
PT the tangent, and PQ, the ordinate^ at the point of
contact, is

tan. T=s

called the subtangenl. By trigonometry,

I|-=^, therefore,

subtangent TQ = — - — y

(2.)

Hence, in the right angled triangle TPQ, we have

tangent PT=: -|- VCrfx^ -frfi/^)

(3.)

Draw PN perpendicular to the tangent at P, the point of
contact, meeting the axis in N ; the line PN is called a
Jil'ormal to the curve at P ; and QN, the segment of the
axis between the ordinate and normal, is called the Subnor-
mal. By the elements of geometry, the angle QPN is

equal to the angle T ; now we have found tan. T =» -j- ;

therefore, observing that PQ=y, we have by trigonometry,
and geometry,

Subnormal QN = %^y. (4 )

dx'
Normal PN = -^ 'V [dx"" -\-dy'^)

(5.)

68. We shall now apply these formulae to some ex-
amples.

Ex. 1. Let the curve be a circle, (Fig. 9.) and let A,
one extremity of the diameter, be the origin of the co-ordi-
nates ; put the radius OA=a ; the equation of the curve is
y"^ -=^2 a x—x~ . Hence, taking the fluxions, yd i/^a rf or
—■xdx, and, by formula (2) (Art. 67.)

dx rj^ _,„ ,

■-r-y= = T^ Q the subtangent ;

therefore, OQ : QP : : QP : QT.

Ex. 2. Suppose the curve a parabola, (Fig. 10.) and that

A, the vertex of the axis, is the origin of the co-ordinates.

Let a be the parameter of the axis. The equation of the

curve (Conic Sections, Sect. VHL) is !/^~« ^; hence,

2 ?/ (/ y=^a d X, and

dx 2y^ '2 ax „ _^ ,

-j-y= = =2:ir=TQ, the subtangent :

di/ . g

dx^~ 2

:QN, the subnormal.

Hence it appears that the subtangent is bisected at the
vertex ; and that the subnormal is half the parameter.

Ex. 3. Let the curve be an ellipse, (Fig 11.) and let O,
the centre, be the origin of the co-ordinates. Let a denote
half the greater, and b half the lesser axis : The equation
of the curve is a'''y~ ^b'x^ZZa^b^ ; (Conic Sections,
Sect. Vni.) hence a- y d y+6^ x d xzzO, and

dy^ ~~

a" y^

'—x^

TQ.

b'' X X

The general formula for the subtangent was investigated
ypon the supposition that the abscissa and subtangent were

on the same side of the ordinate : as in the present case
the subtangent comes out a negative quantity, we may in-
fer that it and the abscissa arc on opposite sides of the or-

a^ ^z

duiate ; so that, without regarding position, TQ= ,

from which it appears, that the subtangent is independent
of the conjugate axis. In the hyperbola, the subtangent
may be found by exactly the same process.

Ex. 4. Let the curve be a cycloid, (Fig. 12.) of which
AB is the axis, and AHB tlie generating circle. Let the
origin of the co-ordinates be A, the vertex : and let us sup-
pose that the radius of the generating circle is unity. Put
the arc AIl=t; ; then, by the nature of the curve, (see
Epicycloid,) x=l — cos. v, y=v + %m. v ; therefore d x~
sin. V d-u,d y=d id -f" cos. v d v, therefore,

That is

dx y sin. v

dy 14- COS. V

PQxAQ

t/(l COS. -v)

sin. -v

TQ,

TQ ; therefore, QH : QP : : QA : QT.

Hence it appears that the tangent PT is parallel to AH, the
chord of the generating circle, as was proved in the article
Epicycloid.

Ex. 5. In the logarithmic curve, of which the equa-
tion is y =a-^, we have dy^a'^l. (a) dx='\j 1. (a) r/.r,
therefore,

dx 1

d^y^

!•(«)

= subtangent.

In this case, the subtangent is a constant quantity.

69. When a curve is expressed by a polar equation, we
may first find the equation of the rectangular co-ordinates,
as is explained in Curve Lines, art. 21. and then apply
the formulas ; but it will be more convenient to have for-
mulae suited to that particular mode of expressing the na-
ture of the curve. Let the centre of the polar co-ordinates
be at A, the origin of the rectangular co-ordinates, (Fig.
13.) and suppose ihe curve to be defined by an equation
between the revolving radius AP=r, and the variable an-
gle PAB=x', which it makes with the axis AB. We may
now regard the angle v as the independent variable quan-
tity, and AQ=a-, QP=)/, and AP=ras functions of that
quantity. Put i for the angle PTQ ; then because the angle

rr.r« * .1 r -r-r. a tau. z' — tan. i

TPA=T^ — ;, therefore tan. TPA=-

(Arithmetic of Sines, art. 26.)

1 + tan. V tan. t
PQ

But tan. v=

— and we have found (art. 67.) that tan. t = -^ \
fore,

AQ
thefe-

tan. TPA=-^-— ^ =

1 +

dy
dx

yd'v'

xdx

y d X — X d y ^
X d x-{-y,dy'

Now, by trigonometry,

x^r cos. -v, y=r sin. v ;
therefore, taking the fluxions, (art. 29. and art. 26. Rule D.)
d a;=cos. v d r — r sin. v d-u,
d i/= sin. V d r-f-r cos. v dv ^
and hence again,

y dx=r COS. v sin. v dr — r"sin.^T> (/v,
x d y^r COS. V sin. v d r-{-r^ co^.^v d v,
X dx=r cos.^u d r — r^cos. v sin. v d v,
y d y=r sln.^f rfr+r^cos. v sin v dv.
Therefore, y d x — x d y= — r^d v,

X dx-\-y d y= r dr ;
and hence,

FLUXIONS.

lan. TPA = •

r civ

r d r

(6)

Through A, draw AT' perpendicular to the polar radius
AP meeting the tangent in T' ; and from the point of con-
tact V, draw PN perpendicular to the tangent, nieeing T'A
in N : We may now consider AT' as the sublangcnt and
AN as the subnormal. And because, in the similar light

angled triangles T'AP, PAN, rad. : tan. T'PA^ =— ^ j ::

PA (=r): AT':: NA: PA,
dv

(7)

subnormal AN= —•

tlicrcforc, subtangent AT'

Ex. Let the curve be the spiral of Archimedes, the
nature of which is defined by the equauon 2 irrrra r,
where v denotes two right angles, and a is a given line,
viz. the value of r when v=2 a-. In this case, 2 3- c/ r=a d v,
and

dv 2 2aT^

70. In some curves, the distance between the origin of
the co-ordinates and the point in which tlie tangent meets
the axis increases continually, so that when the abscissa jc
is infinite, that distance becomes infinite. In others, even
when X is infinite, the tangent cuts the axis at a finite dis-
tance from the origin : It is then an asymptote to the curve.

If, from the subtangent QT= — i/, (Fig. 8.) the abscissa

AQ=.T be subtracted, the remaindfer — r— y — xisthegene-

ral expression for TA, the distance of the intersection of
the tangent and axis from the origin of the co-ordinates. If
when X is infinite this expression is finite, we may conclude
that the curve has asymptotes, but if it be infinite, then the
curve has no asymptote.

Ex. 1. The equation of the hyperbola (Conic Sestions,
Sect. VIII.) isa^i/^=A-x^ — a'b', the origin of the co-
ordinates being at the centre J in this case, a'^ydy^b^xdx,
and

and

Tyy=

a^y'-

x^—a'

b'x

Of the Fluxions of the Area and the Arc oj a Curve.

71. In any curve, we may consider r, one of the co-or-
dinates, as an independent variable quantity, and then the
other, also the area, the arc, and every quantity connected
with the curve, may be regarded as functions of that quan-
tity.

Let CPD be a curve referred to an axis AB (Fig. 14.),
and let AQ^Z-c and QF~y be rectangular co-ordinates, ot
which A is the origin, and let CEQP be the curvilineal
space comprehended between two nrdinatcs CE, PQ, one
of which CE may be supposed to have a given position.
Draw another ordinate P'Q', such, that any number of ordi-
nates between PQ and P'Q' shall form a series continual-
ly increasing or continually decreasing, which is evident-
ly always possible. Complete the rectangles QF, GQ';
and assuming QQ' as the increment of x, let it be denoted
as usual by h. Putting s to denote the area CEQP, am!
regarding it as a function of x, let s^/(x); then the
area CEQ'P' will be/(.r+/j) ; and their difference PQQ'P
— f(x-\-iA — f{x) will be the increment of «, correspond-
ing to h the increment of x. Let FF, the increment of y,
be denoted by k.

The curvilineal space PQQ'P' is less than the rectan-
gle GQ'iz(y-f /t-)'^) hut greater than the rectangle PQ'~
y h ; therefore, it will be equal to (y + Xr'Vj, k! being a quan-
tity between 0 and k. Hence, f {x+h)—f(x)zz{y+k'yi,
and

f±±^p^(f)=y + k'.

Suppose now /; to decrease continually, then k and k'
will decrease continually, and the limit of the ratio

be y ; therefore, the iluxional ratia

or — ^y, art. 23. and hence
dx

When X is supposed infinite, the expression becomes

=0 ; hence we infer that the curve has asymptotes, which
pass through the centre.

Ex. 2. The equation of the parabola Is y-= a x, hence

dx . . ^ . .

—y — x^x ; when x is infinite, this quantity becomes infi-
nite ; therefore the curve has no asymptote.

The method of tangents is an important branch of the
theory of curve lines. It serves to determine their great-
est and least ordinates, (which may also be found by the
theory of maxima and minima), and many circumstances re-
lating to their figure ; but our limits will not allow us to
touch on these. The reader will find them amply detailed
in Thcorie des Fonctions Analytiyiics, Lagrange ; Traite du
Calcul Differentiel, vol. i. Lacroix ; A Treatise of Fluxions,
Maclaurin ; Analyse des Infinimtnt /letitSfUYiopAA; diT\A
in most works which treat expressly of the fluxiona! or
differential calculus.

fjx+hy-fjx) ^^ .,,

d \f(.x)\

d X

d s'^.y dx ( 1 .)

From which it appears, that the fluxion of a curvilineal
area is equal to the ordinate multifilied by the fluxion of the
abscissa.

72. When the nature of the curve is expressed by a
polar equation in Fig. 15, let AC be a line given by posi-
tion, which meets the curve in C, and A a given point in
that line, round which the variable radius AP revolves.
Draw another radius AP', so that all intermediate radii
may form with them an increasing or a decreasing series
of quantities, and on A as a centre describe the circular
arcs PG, P'F. Put PArzr, the angle PACzzx-, and the
curvilineal space ACP~s; and let r and s be considered
as functions of the angle v. Put h for the angle PAP', the
increment of v. Then employing the usual notation sZ^
CPAzzf{v), and area C?'A^:f(v+h), therefore area
PAV'=.f{v+h)—f{v). Put A':=P'G, the increment of r,
then the arc PG^r/i, the arc P'FzZ (r — k)h, the sector
APGni r^h, the sector AP'F=^ {r—kfh. Now the cur-
vilineal space PAP', is less than the sector APG, but
greater than the sector AP'F ; therefore it will be equal
to l{r — k')'''h, suppossing k' some quantity gi-ealer than 0,
and less than k ; hence f(v+h)—f{v)^i{r — k'^h, and

f±±!^tim=i^r-k'r..

as h decreases, k and k" decrease, so that the limit of the
expression for the ratio is ir^; therefore

^'\n-)l ds

or — ~i r^,
dv dv

ds:z:ir^dv

(Art. 23,) and
(2.)'

FLUXIONS.

149

Hence it appears, that the fluxion of Ihv curvUineal sec-
tor (' AP — s, is half (lie firoduct of the square of the re-
volving radius r, attd the fluxion of ^he angle it makes
with the fixed axis AC.

73. Archimedes, and all geometers since his time, have
admitted as an axiom, that if two lines of any kind have
the same c.\tremities, and their concavities turned botli the
same way, the shorter of the two is that which is in the
space bounded by the other line, and the straight line
which joins their common extremities. Hence it follows,
that an arc of a curve, which has its concavity turned all
one way, is greater than its chord, but less than the sum
of two tangents drawn at the extreniilies of tlie arc. Pro-
ceeding from this principle, we may determine the limits
of the ratios of the arc, the chord, and the sum of the two
tangents to one another, supposing the arc to be diminish-
ed indefinitely, as follows:

In Fig. 16. let ADB be any arc of a curve, AB~c the

chord ; AC~6, and BC— a, the tangents at its extremities.

^ . a sin. A , b sin. B

By trigonometry, -■=.-. — - ., and - — ■

' ° ' c sin. (A-f-B) c

. a-\-b sin. A+sin. B „ . •
therefore — — ~ — -. — -^ , „^ . But sin.

■ sin. (A + B)'
A+sin. Biz2

c sin. (A+B)

sin. J (A + B) cos. i(A — B), (Arithmetic of Sines, art.
12.) and sin. (A + B) zi 2 sin. i(A+B)x cos. i(A + B),
(art. 13, form. G), therefore

Q+6_cos. i(A— B)
c ""cos. J (A+B)'

Conceive now the arc ADB to decrease continually, by
the point B approaching to A ; the angles A and B will
manifestly both decrease, and they may become less than
any assignable angles whatever; therefore A — B, and
A + B, both approacli continually to 0; and cos. ;(A — B),
and cos. i(A + B), approach to 1, which is their common
limit. Hence the li.nit of the ratio of « + 4 to c is the ra-
tio of 1 to 1, that is, a ratio of equality ; and as the arc ADB
is always of an intermediate magnitude between a + 6 and
c, much more is the limit of the ratio of the arc to the
chord, also the limit of its ratio to the sum of the tangents
a ratio of equality.

74. In the curve CPD, (Fig. 17.) let PQ, P'Q' be two
ordinates perpendicular to the axis AB ; and suppose that
the intermediate ordinates go on continually increasing, or
else decreasing. Draw the tangents PH, P'H', meeting
the ordinates in H and H'. The arc PP' is less than one
of the two tangents PH, P'H', but greater than the other;
for draw the chord PP', and let the tangents PH, P'H' meet
in I, then because, from the nature of the figure, P'H', one
of the tangents, must make a greater acute angle with the
ordinates than the chord makes with them, it will be less
than the chord, and therefore it will be less than the arc.
And again, because the acute angle, which the other tan-
gent PH makes with the ordinates, is less than the acute
angle made by P'H', the line HI must be greater than P'l,
and HP greater than P'l+IP, and therefore HP must be
greater than the arc P'P.

Hence also it is easy to infer, that the limit of the ratio
of an arc to its chord is a ratio of equality. For the lines
I'H, P'H', are manifestly to one another as the co-secants
of their inclinations to the ordinate PQ, (Tkigoxometuy);
but as the point P' approaches to P, the inclination of the
line P'H' approaches to that of PH, and at last the two
lines coincide ; therefore, the limit of the ratio of PH to
P'H' is a ratio of equality, and as the chord and arc are of
an intermediate magnitude between PH and P'H', the limit
of their ratio must also be that of equality.

73. Supposing A to be the origin of the rectangular co-
ordinates, (Fig. 17.) and C a given point in the curve, let

AQ^x, PQ~i/, CV~:, and let z be considered as a func-
tion of jt. Draw PK (jarallel to the axis; then, because
the arc PP', and the line PK, arc corresponding incre-
ments of = and X, the expression for the (luxional ratio

d z . arc PP'

-— ^ will be equal to the limit to which the fraction — irp —

d X in.

approaches, when QQ'~PK, the increment of x-, is dimi-
nished indefinitely, (art. 23.) Now we have seen, that the
arc PP' is of an intermediate magnitude between the lines
PH, P'H', which touch the curve at P and P' ; therefore

., ,. . arc PP' . , , . ,.

the traction — ^^r. — is always ot an intermediate magni- .

PK
tude between these two,

and

P'H'
PK'

But we have

seen, (art. 74.) that when P' approaches to P, the ratio of

P'H' to PH approaches to a ratio of equality ; therefore the

P'H' PH

limit of will be ■ ,;,^ , and consequently the

limit of

_ PH

— PK'

PK
arc PP'

will also be

PK PK

And since, by trigonometry

Hence we
PH

have - —
ax

~ secant of

the angle HPKrrv/(l + tan.^ HPK), and by art. 67, for-
mula (1), tan. HPK =:^ ; therefore ^ZZ -/ f 1 + ^

dx-

and hence again,

dz-ZZ-^idx^-^-dif) (1.)

From which expression it appears, that the square of the
fluxion of the arc, is the sum of the squares of the fluxions
of the rectangular co ordinates.

76. In the case of curves expressed by a polar equation,
(Fig. 15,) let A be the given point, about which the ra-
dius AP~r revolves ; put v for the variable angle which
r makes with AB, a line given by position passing through
A ; and suppose the curve to be also referred to this line
as an axis by rectangular co-ordinates, having their origin
at A, so that AQ— .v and QPzzy, then
jc~r cos. -V, yZZ-r sin. ->,
dx~ — r sin. v d p+cos. v dr,

::; — V dv-\ d r,

dy'ZZr cos. v rfv + sin. v dr,

ZZ.xd-v+-^dr,

d x^ZZy" d v'' + — dr''

2 xij

dv dr.

d j/2— r^ dv
Therefore,

'+7.rf'-^ +

■y

dv dr;

dx^+dy^-{x'+y^)[dv^-^^y

but x'+y'^-^.r'^, and d x- -\-d y'^-^zd z'^, (art. 75.)
Therefore,

(/- — N/(r2rf(;2+</r=) (2.)

This forinula expresses the fluxion of the arc of a curve,
by the fluxion of the revolving radius r, and the fluxion of
the angle which it makes with the axis AB.

77. We shall now explain another method of defining a
curve by a polar equation, which leads to a simple expres-
sion for the fluxions of the arc.

Let CPD (Fig. 18.) be the curve, and A a given point
in AB, a straight line given by position. Draw a tangent
PE at any point P, and AE a perpendicular on the tangent
from A ; then, if we know the relation between the angle
BAE and the perpendicular AE, we can Und the value of

150

3XUXX0NS.

tlie perpendicular, corresponding lo any given value of the
angle ; and, as the iluxional calculus gives a general ex-
pression for llic tangcnl I'E, in terms ol the perpendicular
and the angle, (as we shall presently shew), we can lind
also the length of the tangent : hence the point P may
be found, and as many more points in the curve as we
please.

Take another point P' in the curve, and draw .a tangenfc
P'E', meeting the former in G ; also draw AE' perpendi-
cular to P'E'. Let the angle 15AE be denoted by u, the
arc CP by z, the perpendicular AE by /;, and EP, tlie part
of the tangent between the perpciulicular and point of con-
tact, by ; ; then, supposing the angle u to be the indepen-
dent variable quantity, /i, f, and z, may be regai'ded as
functions of?/. Put /; for the angle EAH, the increment
of 7(, and /i' for AE' ; also t' for P'E', the new values of fi
and t, corresponding to u-\-h, the new value of u. From
the disposition of the lines in the figure, we have
E'P'— EP=E'G -f G P'— ( EH -f HG— G P)
r:PG+GP'— EH— (HG— GE') ;
and dividing by the arc /;,

E'P'— EP_ PG+GP' EH _ HG— GE'
'k h ~ h h '

Now, by trigonometry, EH— /i tan. h ; and, because the
triangles AEH, GE'H are similar, E'G=:GHxcos. /< ;
therefore, by substituting, we get

-HG.

t'—t_ PG-J-GP' tan. A ^ 1— cos. /;,
~A~~" 'h n h

Suppose now, h to be diminished indefinitely, by which

.i'—t

d t
d u

P' will approach to P ; we have then, limit of

PC -4-GP' d "

fart. 23), and limit of — ~ — -r^ (art. 23. and 73.); and

»■ -" h du

tan. h , . - tan. h

because /w:i; — -, — ZTl (art. 73.); therefore, fi/mV }i

And since
1 — cos. h

cos. A~l— — + rr — &C

and limit

h
. (art. 53.) ;

it will be — - — — f, so I'.iat, including both cases in one

' = =i='^ (A)

tangent and curve proceed in the satne direction from the
pohit of contact ; when they proceed in opposite directions,

■ dfi^

d u
formula, we have

■'it
du

This formula gives the tangent in terms of /; and u,

when the relation of y; to u is known. Hence, also, it

d^li
follows, that (/ .' ^ =i= -r— • so that, in addition to the for-
du

mulx investigated in an. 75. and art. 76. for the fluxion

of an arc ; from what has been found in this article, wc

have these two,

d{z =5= 0—/' f'"'

du'

We do not recollect to have seen these in any work on
fluxions : they deserve attention on account of some ele-
gant applications of which they are susceptible.

The application of the formulae investigated in this
Section, will be found in the Second Part of this article,
when we come to the Quadrature and Rectification of
Curves.

therefore

Hence, upon the whole,
d_t_ d z
du'~du
and d z — d t or d (r — t)z^p du.

In the figure from which this formula has been investi-
gated, the arc and tangent proceed in the same direction
from the point of contact : If they had proceeded in con-
trary directions, the formula would have been
d{z-^t)zz.tidu
To express t by means of/; and u, we have
AE'— AE=AH-t-HE'— AE
=HE'-fAH— AE;
Now, HE'— E'G X tan. h, and AE — AH x cos. h ; there-
fore, after substituting and dividing by h,

fi' — p tan. h

— '.IllJlE'G-f

1 C0S./2

AH.

h h ' A .

Suppose now h to decrease .continually, then we have

k — t' >lf' ,. . tan. A , ,. . „,^ ,. .

limit ^— — -; Umit — - — — 1, limit EG =Z; limit

h du h

1 — cos. h

ZZ 0 ; therefore
dfi

d u

d z = /idu-\--

(3)
(4)

Of the Fluxions of Solids and Surfaces of Revolution.

78. j1 solid of revolution is that which is generated by
the rotation of a curve of any kind about its axis, just as a
sphere is generated by the rotation of a semicircle about its

—- (Yu diameter, or a right cone, by the rotation of a right angled
triangle about one of the sides containing the right angle.
The curve surface of a solid, generated in this manner, is
a surface of revolution. Figures of this kind are also call-
ed Conoids. They all agree in this property, that any
section of the solid by a plane perpendicular to the axis of
revolution, is a circle.

79. Let PA/i be a solid of revolution, (Fig. 19.), AB its
axis, PE/! and V'E'/t' two sections perpendicular to the
axis, such, that these, and any intermediate sections, shall
form a series that goes on increasing or decreasing : Let
Pp and P'/j' be the diameters of the sections, and QQ' the
segment of the axis between them. Construct the cylin-
ders P E/;-H G A, and P'E'/i'-KF A-, having the common
altitude Q'Q. Put AQ = ^, PQ = y, the solid APE/i= s,
the number 3.14159 (the ratio of the circumference to the
diameter of a circle) ^z t ; also put A for QQ', the incre-
ment of X ; k for P'H, the increment of y ; and i for the
conoidal solid P'E'/i'-PE/i, the increment of s. Then, by
the elements of geometry,

Circle PE/; =3- j/^ ; circle P'E'//:= ^(^y-f X-)2 ;

Cylinder PE/;-HG h-Zl-!ry^ h,

Cylinder KF A-P'E'// = x (!/-f-Ay h.
As the conoidal solid P'E'Ji'-PE/i = i is greater than one
of these cylinders, and less than the otlier, we have s = a-
(i/-f-A-')- A,an expression in which A-' is some quantity less
than k, and greater than 0 ; and therefore,

-=^{y+k'y

Substituting now the fluxional ratio- — for the limit of
° d j:

the ratio — , and observing that the limit of (y — k')" rela-

tivelv to the decrease? of A is j/^, we find
d s

This formula corresponds to the case in which the

d X
and d s'^^y'

rfa\

FLUXIONS.

151

Hence itappears, that the fluxion of a solid of rcvohi-
tion is equal to the /troduct of the general exfircssion for the
section of the solid, by a plane perjicndicular to the axis, and
the fluxion of the axis.

SO. To find the fluxion of the surface generated by the
rotation of the curve APP' (Fig. ~0.), join tlie extremities
of the ordinatcs PQ, P'Q' by the chord PP', and draw tlie
tangents PE, P'E, meeting in E, and draw EF perpendi-
cular to the axis Ali, meeting it in F. By the revolution
of the curve, the chord PP', and the tangents PE, P'E,
generate surfaces of truncated cones : and, by an axiom in
the geometry of solids, the surface generated by the arc
PP', which may be regarded as the increment of the sur-
face, generated by the curve AP, is greater than the coni-
cal surface generated by the chord PP', but less than the
two surfaces generated by the tangents PE, P'E. Now,
by mensuration, the surface generated by the chord PF is

<PQ + P'Q')PP'; --(1)

and the two surfaces generated by the tangents PE, P'E
are taken together,

CT ) (PQ + EF)PE + (P'Q' + EF) P'E ;

(2)

Therefore, between these two quantities, the surface gene-
rated by the arc PP' is always contained. But as P' ap-
proaches to P, the lines PQ, EF, P'Q' approach to equa-
lity ; so that, ultimately, PQ + P'Q', PQ -f EF, P'Q' -f EF
are to be considered as equal ; therefore, the limit of the
ratio of the expressions (1), (2) is evidently the same as
the limit of the ratio of the chord PP' to PE -f P'E, the
sum of the tangents ; and as this last is a ratio of equality,
(73.) it follows that the limit of the ratio of the curve sur-
face generated by the arc PP', to the conical surface gene-
rated by the chord PP', is a ratio of equality.

Put jrZZ AQ ; y — PQ, z =: arc AP, h ZZ QQ', the incre-
ment of x; /czZ.P'li, the increment of y ; and /ZiPP' the
increment of z. Also put v for the curve surface gene-
rated by the arc CP, and i for its increment ; then we have

surf. gen. by chord PP'iz "■ (2 j/ -f A) x chord PP', and,
surf. aren. bv chord PP' ,^ . ^ chord PF'

— ^— r =<^y + ^)—^ — .

Hence, passing to the limits, and substituting the surface
generated by the arc, for that generated by the chord and
the arc for the chord, also observing that the limit of
2y -\- /c is 2 J/, we get

.■ ■ i ^ ■■ . i

limit — ~ 2 3- !/ X limit — ;
h a

and again, substituting the fluxional ratios instead of the
limiting ratios of the increments, and regarding v and r as
functions of x,

dv „ dz
-p- = 25ry--— ,
d X d X

Hence, dvzz'i.vydz.
Thus it appears, that the fluxion of a surface of revolu-
tion is equal to the fluxion of the arc of the generatinff
curve, multifilied by the general expression for a section of
the surface, by a plane perpendicular to its axis.

On the Contact of Curves, and Circle of Curvature.

81. Let two curves, CD, cd have the same axis AB,
(Fig. 21.) and the same point A for the origin of their co-
ordinates ; let 7/:^ P'Q', and ti:^P"Q' be their respective
ordinates, corresponding to the common abscissa x — AQ',
and let their equations bei/=/(x), and7;=F(x). Let
lis also suppose, that when x becomes x -\- h,y becomes
y', and V beooiaes u' ; then, by Taylor's theorem, (art, 52.)

,lv , , d.^vh"" ■ „
v'=Zv+-—h-i--—-^ — + &c.
dx ax i

Suppose now the curves to have a common point P, at

,-, ■ -f 'ly ^"^ , f . ■

which yZZv ; then if- — ^- — ; the nature of their con-
d X d X

tact at that point is such, that no third curve having the

same common point, can pass between them, unless it has

a like property ; that is, supposing u to be the ordinate of

the third curve, corresponding to the common abscissa Xy

and u' its value, corresponding \.o x -\- h, so that

du d-u h^

u' — u + ■— h + —- — -{■ Ecc.
dx d x^ 2

this curve, leaving P, cannot pass between the other two>

dudydv

— — ZZ-j — ~-r— . For let us suppose it possible j

then because in general, P' P" ~ y' — - t;' ex
Idy dv\ ^ Id'^y d^vXh"" , „

and by hypothesis, 2/— -y, also— -^— -^ — , therefore,

ax a X

unless

..'- / ^-^"y

d^y

/ d'y _d^v \h, ( d :
\dx* dx^)2'^\dx

-ra-jy+Scc.

dx-'

This is the general expression for the excess of P'Q', the
ordinate of the first curve above P"Q', the ordinate of the
second. In like manner, the difference of the ordinates of
the first and third curve, or

, , f du du\

or, because yZZi*.
, , Idy du\, , /d^y d''u\h^

Now, because this third curve is supposed to pass be-
tween the other two, (that is, between P' and P",) we must
have, to a certain extent on each side of Y,y' — v''^y'—u\
that is,

/ d2y__£vyr_ I d^y _£z\h'
\dx' dx^)2'^\7rP' dx'Je'^ '^'
I dy du\ I d^y d'u \h"

and hence, dividing by A,

(d^y d'^v \ h I d\ dh, \h^ , ^

\dx= f/;cV2 + VJI^—rf.z-j'e"
._,( dy du \ ^ (d^y d'^u\h

^\dx "rfTJ + idT^—rfP"/ ¥+'"'•

This ought to be true for every value of h that is less
than QQ'. But /; being supposed to decrease, the first of
these two expressions may become less than any thing
assignable, because /; enters into all its terms, while the

second approaches to the limit — ^ .

" dx dx

Now this

conclusion is incompatible with the first expression, be-

, ., , . dy du , .

ing greater than the second, unless — i^O, that is»,

dx dx

d u du . , . . ,

T^:^-: — , lor then it is only necessary that

d X dx

/d^y d-v\ ^fd'y d^~u\, , ,

[7i-^-d^r+''''-^\7i^~-dP^y'+^''-

v/hich is evidently possible. Hence between the courses
of the two curves, which have a common ordinate yZIZVf

and which have also -j— ;■ — -j-^j no other curve can j^ass^:

152

FLUXIONS.

unless the fluxion of its ordinate u b? equal to llie fluxion

of y or of V ; so that -— — -— .

82. Again; if in the two carves, whose equations are
y — y(jr),Tu ~ F (jr), and which have a common ordi-

nate yzix), we have also

= -; — ) and -— ^ =:

rf%

d:r — dx' """ d x'- ~ dx'

then, no third curve, of which the equation is«^^(jr),

and which has a common ordinate witli the otiier two,

dy d u
can pass between them, unicss at the same time- — ^— ,

and — — — 5". For if it were possible, we would, as

dx^ dx'

in last article, have tj' — v'-^y' — !i', or, (rejecting the quan-
tities that canceal each other)

d^v \h* , ,

d'u \/i^ , .

f d^y __ d'v \/i^ I d^y
\dx^ dx') 6"^ [dx*

idx^
dy

I dy du \ / d^y d^u \/i

[dlT dl^) '^[dx^ dx^jl

d y d It

Now this cannot hold true, unless ; — ZZO,

d X d X

and

also-

rf^u

, _:0 ; for, were this not the case, h might
dx^ dx^

be taken of such a magnitude, that the whole amount of
the first of these two expressions should be less than
cither the first or second term of the other expression, in
any ratio of inequality whatever, instead of being greater
than the whole expression ; because of its terms involving

,. , f , Tf 1 '^y ^^ j'^^y '''"

higher powers of h. It, however, — ^— -— , and - — -i^ - — -. ,
° ' dx dx dx-i d X-

then, that the third curve may pass between the other two,

it is only requisite that

\dx' dx')

kc. •

(d'y __d'u\
\dx' dx'j"

+ &c.

t^dx' dx-
which is certainly possible.

83. In general, if there be any curve whatever, and
another given curve have a common point with it, which
lequires that their ordinates corresponding to the same
abscissa should be equal ; then, if the first fluxions of these
ordinates for the same abscissa are also equal, it will be
impossible that any other curve drawn through that point
can pass between them, unless the first fluxion of its ordi-
nate corresponding to the same abscissa is equal to the
first fluxions of their ordinates : And if, besides the first
fluxions of these ordinates, their second fluxions, for the
same abscissa, are also equal, it will be impossible that
any other curve which passes through the common point
can go between them, unless the first and second fluxions
of its ordinate are respectively equal to the first and second
fluxions of the ordinate common to the two curves, and so
on of the higher orders of fluxions.

In fact, the two curves only coincide in the points in
which their ordinates are equal ; and the equality of the
different orders of fluxions merely shews, that no other
curve, in which tlie same equality has not place, can pass
between them. This is the view that ought to be taken of
the contact of curves ; and it agrees with the doctrine of
the ancient geometers, as far as they entered into this the-
ory ; for they considered a straight line as a tangent to a
curve, when no other straight line could be drawn between
them from the point in wiiich they met each other. {Jile-
■snents of Euclid-, Book III. Prop. 16.) The application of
Algebra to Geometry has led to other views, particularly
that in which a secant is considered as becoming a tangent,
when two of its intersections coincide. As this manner of
considering the subject is simple, and sufficiently strict,

we have employed it in treating of the theory of tangents.
(Art. 67.)

81-. As an illustration of this theory, let us consider the
nature of the contact of any curve CPU, (Fig. 8.) and a
striiight line TP, supposing A to be the origin of the com-
mon abscissa. Let Ki^z^x ; and PQ (taken as any ordi-
nate of the curve CD)=!/, also PQ (taken as any ordinate
of the straight line TP)=i; ; Put TA rr a, and tangent of
angle T=< ; Ir.en the equation to the straight line PT is
evidently v^t {a-\-x^=.t a-^t x ; hence as a and t are con-
stant, we have, for every point in the straight line TP,

dv
d -u =z td x, and — =^ As besides the straight line and
dx

curve having a common point at P, which is expressed by

the equation t>=i/, we farther suppose the nature of the

contact to be such, that--=-^; it follows that --i s t.
dx dx ax

This result agrees with what we found in art. 67, formula
(I), and thence the subtangent TQ may be determined, as
was there explained.

The line PT being thus determined, it is impossible that
any straiglit line can be drawn from P, that shall pass be-
tween PT and the curve : For, if possible, let the line PS
pass between them, and meet the axis in S. Put AS=a';
tangent of angle S=«'; PQ (considered as an ordinate of
PS) = « ; then the equation of the line PS is u=l' (a'-J-jr),

and

, du ,

hence -T- = r
dx

Now, in order that the line PS may

pass between the curve and the straight line PT, it ought

. - , ,. . du dy , . .

to satisfy the condition -— = -^ (art. 81.) : hence we must
dx dx ^ '

have i'=t, that is the tangent of the angles PTA, and PSA

must be equal, which can only happen when the lines PT,

PS coincide ; Thus the line PT is a tangent accordin.^ to

the strictest acception of the term.

85. Let us now consider the contact of a circle and anv

curve ; let the circle EPF meet the curve CPD in the point

P, (Fig. 22.) Suppose that AB is their common axis, and

A the origin of the common abscissa AQ=x; then put

;/=PQ, considered as an ordinate of the curve CPD; and

-i)= PQ, considered as an ordinate of the circle EPF. Let

H be the centre of the circle ; draw the radius HP, and

draw HI, HK perpendicular to PQ and AB. Put r=PH,

/i=AK, (7=HK, so that /i and q are the co-ordinates of the

centre of the circle, then HI=/i — x, and PI=t; — q , and

since, from the nature of the circle, PH- = PP-|- HP ;

therefore

First let us suppose that the kind of contact is such as is
indicated by the equality of the first fluxions of the ordi-

nates ; so that

dy dv

— . The preceding equation, in which

/!, q and r are to be considered as constant quantities, ind
•u as a function of x, gives us — 2(/2 — x)d x-\-'i[y—q)dv'='i,
and hence

d-v
dx

J.—x

„ fi-x HI
Aow =:---—=

and

V—rj Pi

■V—

PQ '

and

(2.)

therefore, -- — = -^^ —
d X -v

since, by hypothesis, u ^y and

:QN. But this expression for

QN is identical with that given in art. 6", for the subnor-
mal of a curve ; therefore QN is the subnormal, and con-
sequently the centres of all circles, which have the kind of

d V d y , . dy
— = —^ ; therefore ~ry-
d X d X dx

FLUXIONS.

15.3

contact we are considering, as in z normal to the curve at
the common point P.

Wlicn a ciicle has this kind of contact with a curve, no
other circle of an equal radius, but whose centre is out of
the normal, can pass between it and tlie curve. For, sup-
posing it possible, let /i' and g' be the co-ordinates of the
centre of this oiher circle, and u its ordinate to the abscissa
x; then, in like manner, as in the former circle, we have
found

d-v /I — X fi — X

dx V q i -i rj \2 1 '

in the other circle, we must similarly have
d u fi' — .r

d X

V \r''—Ui'—ocf}^

And as upon the hypothesis that this last circle passes be-
tween the other circle and the curve, we ought to have

— = — — — (art. 81.) therefore
dx dx dx

fi — X _ /i' — X

^ \ r^—i/'—x) ^ J v/ ^ r-—{/i'—x) ' ^

This equation gives/i'=/i, from which it follows, that g'=rj,
so that the two circles have their centres at the same point,
and therefore are identical.

The kind of contact which we have been considering,
which is analogous to the contact of a straight line and
curve, may be called a co7ttacl of the first order.

86. Let us next suppose the curve and circle to have

a closer degree of contact, so that not only is y=v, and

du dv , , d^ y d^ V
-2-=-—; but also -; — 5-=-; — T-
dx dx dx^ d x^

From the second equation of last article we find

rf2 -x) (y — q')d x-\-{fi — .r)f/ V

d X

{y-yf

instead of d v substitute its value d x, as given by the

v—c/

same equation, and moreover, put r^ instead of (/; — x^ -i-
(y — q)', as given by the first equation, and then, after di-
viding by d X, we get

(fjv r^__

d x''~ l-v—qY'

This equation, as well as equations (1) and (2) in tlie

last article, are derived from the properties of the cir-

,1 ^ d X' d y . , ,

cle, but as we suppose v^y and — - — = — =— , and lastly,

u X d X

the same three equations relatively to the

d x^ d X

curve CPD will stand thus :

(,/'—^y+{y—qT-=r'

dy /I — X

d^y_

djc~- {y~qy '
From the first and second of these equations we find

'''' ■ w

y—i

(2)
(3)

/; — X = •

(dx'+dy^)

ij—q =■

r d X

(dx^+dy^y-
and again, from this last, and equation (3),

(5)

(d x'' +dy^

d X d'y
Vol. IX. Part I.

(A)

This value of r being substituted in equations (4) and (5'^
we deduce from them these results

dx'^-\-dy''

■■y +

dx'' -f rf!/2

(C)

the other circle, it is necessary that u ■=y — ^-=

The three constant quantities/;, q, r, which enter into the
general equation of a circle, being thus determined, it may
be concluded that no other circle can pass between the
curve and that which is determined by these values of ft,
q, r. For if it be jjossible, let u be the ordinate in that
other circle corresponding to the abscissa a.-, j-* its radius,
and /;', q' the co-ordinates of its centre ; then its equation
would be

Now, that this circle may pass between the curve and

du d y

d^ u d' y „
■ ,i = 2 — ~- ""^ these bemg the very same conditions

which are satisfied by the other circle, they will give the
same values for/;', /, /, as we have found for/;, q, r; and
so the two circles must coincide.

This circle has relatively to other circles the same pro-
perty which a tangent has in respect of straight lines. It
is that which geometers have called the osculating circle ;
also the circle ofi curvature, because it serves to measure
the curvature of the curve. The quantity r, the radius of
the circle, is called the radius ofi curvature.

87. The centre of the circle of curvature being different
for different points of a curve, there is a certain line LM,
belonging to the curve, whicii is the locus of all the centres.
The quantities /;, q are manifestly co-ordinates to any point
H ot this locus, and its nature is expressed by the two
equations (B), (C). In any given curve, the values of y,
dy and d" y may be all expressed by r and d x, and these
being substituted in the expressions for /; and jf, they will
involve only the indeterminate quantity x, which may be
eliminated by means of the two equations, and the result
Avill be an equation involving only/;, q and known quanti-
ties, which will be an equation of the locus of the centre of
the circle of curvature.

88. Formula (A) of last article serves to find the radius
of curvature, when the nature of the curve is indicated by
the relation of the rectangular co-ordinates : But let us
now suppose, that its nature is defined by an equation ex-
pressing the relation between A E =/;, a perpendicular
from any given point in the axis BA upon a tangent at P
and the angle BAE=«, which that perpendicular makes
with the axis (Fig. 18.) Draw the normal PN, and let x
and y be the rectangular co-ordinates of the point P. The
angle at N=:m is manifestly the compliment of tlie angle

which the tangent makes with the axis ; hence — = cot. u

(formula (1), art. 67.) and taking the fluxions considering

u and y as functions of .r, •

-d u

sin.2 u

= — d u cosec.^M

(art. 34.) but cosec* ;/ = 1 -f cotan^ u = ljEl+j(iL.

therefore d x d^ y = — du (dx^ + dy^) = — d u d z-
(putting z for the curve and observing that d r ^ =
d x^ -\- d y^, art. 75.) and since by formula (A), last art.

_ {d x^+dy-iy dz^

d X d^y

_dz
du

d X d^y

(A')
U

, therefore,

154

FLUXIONS.

Here we have a very simple expression for the radius of
curvature, from which it appeal's to be equal to the Jluxion
of the arc divided by the Jiuxion of the anifie which the nor-
mal makes with the axis.

And as we have found (art. 77.) that rfr=:/i d u-^-

therefore

d u

r=fi +

d^ ft

(A")

This is the expression for r which we proposed to inves-
tigate.

89. We shall now shew the application of the formulae
ve have found for the radius of curvature.

Ex. 1. Let the curve be a parabola (Fij^. 23.) and let A,
the vertex of the axis AI3, be tlie oiigin of the co-ordinates
AQ=J^, and QP=i/. Let a be the parameter of the axis,

1 1

then, by the nature of the curve, y'' =a x, hence y—ax-',

and d y =

d X

and rf° y=-

a'd x'

Therefore, dx*

+ d ij''=dx" +
(.\), art. 86,

ad.

Ax-
d .x" (4 x 4- <i)

■; and by formula

{d x"" 4- d xfY

then r^ J a

(a + -1..r)^
d X d^ y 'It/ a

this is tlif radius of curvature at the

lfx=0,
vertex.

As an example of the application of the third formula
for tiie radius of curvature, let us again take tlic parabola,
and let F be the focus, and FE a perpendicular to the tan-
gent PE. Draw a straight line fiom E to A. the vertex of
the axis; then AE is a tangent at the vertex, (Conic Sec-
tions, Sect. IV. Prop. 14. cor. l,)and therefore FAE is a
right angled triangle. Hence, putting FE=/i, and the
angle AFE=u, and observing that AF = i- parameter=ia,
•we have for the equation of the curve
a
4COS.M
And taking the fluxions, by art. 30. and art. 26. observing
that /J is a function of ii,

(•//; a sin. u d'^fi (cos. ^77 + 2 sin.^!;)^

dii 4cos."^M d u' 4 COS."* K

Therefore, by formula (A"), art. 88.

d'^ft 2(c'-'S.^ e^-f-sin.* ji)a a

a u-

4 COb.
3.'/i3

' 2 C0S.3 u

Hence, from formula (A), we get

54 7^^ + (m-J-2nx)^?

and hence we have also r^

Ex. 2. Let the curve be any one of the conic sections.
If the origin of the co-ordinates be taken at one extremity
of the principal axis, their nature may be expressed by the
equation

y^^m x-\-nx^ .
ilciice we find,

(w + 2 nx\dx
dyZZ- -; — ,

ax-^di/

54i/2-f(?n + 2?!.z-)2^ dx^

54(m.r-f w.r=)-f-(7H -f 2 « .r)' X d:

.„ 2 ni/ d .r' — 'in-\-2 n x)dxdy
a 'y_—. ^-3 ,

iny^ — (m-j-27jxyl d x^

8«i/^ — 2{7n-\-2nxj-
and substituting for y^ its value,

^ 4(m x-|-«x^)-)-(;n -\-2nxY t

'"" "2m2 ~ ■

By giving to m and n the values that belong to the differ-
ent curves, (Conic Sections, Sect. VIII.) this formula will
give the radius of curvature in each case.

90. It appears from what has been shewn in this section,
that the contacts of curve lines may be arranged according
to different orders. The degree of contact, in which the
oidinates, and also their first fluxions, are ecjual, (art. 81.)
may be called a contact of ihcjirst order ; and wlien in ad-
dition to these, the second fluxions are equal, (art. 82,) it
is a contact of the second order ; and so on.

There are curves which, with a given curve, admit only
of contacts of a certain order. A straight line, for instance,
is only capable of a contact of the first order. A circle
may have a contact of the first, and also of the second or-
der, but none higher; and a curve, whose equation is !/=:
a-\-b x-\-c x'^-\-d .v^, is also capable of a contact of the third
order; and so on. The degree of contact of which a curve
is capable, depends upon the number of constant quantities
to be determined. 'I'hese may be called the elements of
contact. A contact of the first order requires two constant
quantities ; a contact of the second requires three ; and so
of the higher orders.

In an analytical point of view, the contact of a straight
line, or of a circle with a curve, is not more interesting than
the contact of any other curve, unless on account of these
curves being more elementary. The circle of curvature
is, however, interesting, because of the simple geometrical
expression it gives for the measure of a deflecting force.
[Princi/iia, lib. i. prop. vi. See also Physical Astkonomy,
ch:tp. i.)

91. The first formuH which we have given for the ra-
dius of curvature, (art. 86,) has been investigated upon the
hypothesis, that tlie curve is concave towards the axis. In

d^y
this case, \ is a negative quantity; and hence the sign

of the expression for r is negative. If the curve had been

convex towards the axis, then the sign of '^, and of the

expression for r, would have been positive. Upon the first
hypothesis, r comes out a positive quantity in the applica-
tions of the formula, as in the examples we have given ; but
when ihe curve is convex towards the axis, it has a nega-
tive value.

Of the Evohites of Curi<es,

92. Let LHM be a curve of any kind, (Fig. 24.) and let
us suppose that a thread, fastened to the curve at some
point beyond M, is drawn tight, and applied ujjon it, so as
to have the position CLOM; that this may be done, the
curve may be conceived to be the common section of a
plane, and some solid rising a liitle above it, round which
the tliread is wound. Suppose now, that while the thread
is kept tight, it is gradually unlajiped from the curve.
While the portion between L and H is unwinding, its ex-
tremity P will describe upon the plane some line CP, and
the process of unwinding being continued, a curve CPD
will be generated, the nature of which will depend on the
mode of its generation, and the properties of the other
curve LHM.

FLUXIONS.

15 ft

The curve along; which tlie tlircad is wrapped, is called
the Kvolute of the curve, generated Ijy tlic extremity of the
thread ; and, on the other hand, the latter curve is called
the Involute of the former. Our present object is to shew,
how the evolute of any proposed curve Cl'L) may be found.

93. From the manner in which a curve is generated
from its evolute, we may immediately draw these three
conclusions :

1. The portion of the thread PH, which is disengaged
from the evolute, is a tangent to it at H.

2. The straight line PH, is equal to the arc CII of the
evolute.

3. Any tangent to the evolute, is a normal to the curve.
In fact, any point H of the evolute may be considered as a
momentary centre ; and the line HP us the radius of a cir-
cle which the point P is describing, wlie n the point of con-
tact of the tangent and curve is at H. It is from this last
property, that we propose to deduce a solution of our pro-
blem.

Let AB be a comiTion axis to the t'l o curves, and let the
nortnal PH produced meet the axis in M. Let P'lI'N' be
another position of the normal, mcuing the tormer 'v.\ O.
Draw PG, P'G, tangents to the curv:. meeting in G, (these
lines will be perpendicular to PO, F'O,) and join GO. Put
2 for the arc CP, m for the angle which the normal makes
with the axis at N, and r for PH, the portion of the thread
evolved from the arc CH. By trigononittiy, PG^OGx
sin. POG,and P'G^OGxsin. P'OG ; therefore,
PG + P'G
sin. POti-fsin. P'OG~

Conceive now the point P' to approach P, then O will ap-
proach to H, and the line OG will approach in magnitude
to HP=r, which will be its limit ; also ihe fraction to which

arc PP'

OG is equal, will approach to rr7TT^(sft.73 ) Hence,

' '^ angle POP ^

remarking that the arc PP', and the angle POP', are the

corresponding increments of z and u, and passing to the

limits, we have Cart. 23.)— izr. But this value of r, is the
^ 'du

very expression which we have found for the radius of cur-
vature, (formula (A'), art. 88.) Therefore, r is the radius
of curvature at P ; and because PH is a normal to the
curve, H is the centre of the circle of curvature ; ant! the
evolute LOM is the /ocws of the centre of that ciicle. Hence,
if AQ=jr, and PQr=i/, be the co-ordinates of P, any point
in the cui've CPD, and AK=/i, and KH = (7, the co-ordi-
nates of H, the corresponding point in the evolute, by art.
86. formula; (B), (C), its equation will be,

du dx^+dy^ dx^+dy"

^=^- di —iFy—^ '=y+ — d^r~'

For example, if the curve CPD be a parabola, then put-
ting a for the parameter, in this case j/^=ajr; and hence,

a d X , a^d x^

dyZ=.-——,d yZZ.-

4 2/3

}iZZ^x-\-\a,

and

9=-

4?/'

As q comes out negative, the parabolic arc and its evo-
lute lie on opposite sides of the axis. Moieover, since

— — =a X, and I — —I -^ =!/''=a,r, we easily find,

27o(7=«=16(/i— ^fz)3.
This equation belongs to the semicubical parabola.

94. The theory of evolutes, one of the most elegant spe-
culations in geometry, is due to Huygens, who handled it
at considerable length in his Horologiuin Os cilia toriuni. We
have seen, that it is closely connected with the theory of
contacts; and indeed, it is usual to define the circleof cur-

vature, from the property of its radius being eqinl to tli<-
evoiving radius. We have, however, after Lagrange, fol-
lowed a method more strictly analytical. We might have
deduced the properties of evolutes, from the formulae in
art. 86, for the centre and radius of curvature ; but as a
more elementary mode, we have chosen to prove the iden-
tity of the fx;ci/(Uc, and the .'of;/.» of the centre of the circle
of curvature, by employing the principle which oiiginallv
led to the theory.

As the radius of curvature is always equal to the arc of
the evolute, from which it has been unwrapped ; and as in
geometrical curves, that radius is in every case an algc
braic expression, of a finite number of terms, and the evo-
lute also a geometrical curve ; it follows, that to every geo-
metrical curve whatcve'r, there is a corresponding geome-
trical curve which may be rectified : that is, to which a
straight line can be found equal. This was proved by Huy-
gens ; and it shewed, that Descartes was wrong in suppo-
sing, that it was impossible to find a straight line equal to a
curve.

For the evolutes of the cycloid and epicycloid, see our
article Epicycloid.

Of changing the Indefiendent Variable Quantity.

95. We have all along supposed x to vary in any manner
whatever, and estimated the change that takes place in y,
any function oi x, by referring it to the change in the mag-
nitude of X, which, on that account, was the independent
variable quantity. It is sometimes convenient, however, to
vary the hypothesis, and pass from the supposition of i/ be-
ing a function of .r, to that of a: being a function oiy.

The form of a fluxional expression depends very much
upon the quantity that is regarded as the independent vari-
able. Thus in art. 67, we have found, that if s denote the
sub-tangent of a curve, and x and y the co-ordinates, then

dx
s zz —- y ; and this is true, whether y be considered as a

function of x, or a: as a function of y. From this expres-
sion, by regarding s and y as functions of x^ (so that d x\s
constant,) we have

d x{dy- — y d~ ij) ydxd"y

" d y^ dy' '

If, however, we reckon s and x as functions of y, then as dy

y d^x
must be now constant, we have dszzdx-\- , an ex-

pression quite different from the former. We are now to
investigate general rules, by which, in such cases, the one
expression may be deduced from the other.

96. Let y=/(_x), and let us suppose, that when x be-
comes j;-)-/r, then y becomes i/-|-/t. By Taylor's theorem.

dx d:

d'y h'
dx^ 2 3

-f-&:c.

(1)

But let us now suppose, tliat from the equation i/^/"(.r),
we deduce x=F(y), so that jc is a function of y , then si-
milarly,

, dx, , d^x i-^ , d'x k^ ^

/'=-/■+ -:7T^ - + ^TTX o- + S^c. (2.)

dy" ' dy' 2 ' d y^ 2.-2

Let the value of /c~ as expressed by the first equation, be

substituted in the second ; and, with a view to abridge, let

us put

, r dy d"v , r dx

y lor ~- , y lor— — - &c. also x' for — -,

dx d x2 dy

d^x
■^" for—: — j-i &c. and we have

dy'

156

FLUXIONS.

A = x'(t/'A+y"y+/''il+&c.)

dx d^x

x" ir

2.;

,+ &C.)2

x"' h^ h^

+ ^(y'f'+y" Y + v"'h3+ 5^<=0'+s^c.

Hence, by actually involving the scries to tlic 2cl, the 3d
powers, kc. and biinging together like powers of /i, we
find

0=(;r' y'—l)h + {x' ij"+x" t/Oy

+(y 2/"'+3 x" y' ^"+:t"'y')^+&c.

Now, as h is altogether independent of x\ x", Sec. y',
y", &c. the co-enicients of its powers must be each — 0,
hence

x' y'—\ZZO,x' y" + x" y'"' -ZIO,

x' y'" 4- 3 x" y' y" + x'" if = 0, &c.

from which equations, we get

y=^.r

3 x"i

i5x"3 10:r"x"

r'7

r'6

; &c.

and, on the other hand
x' = ^,x" = -^-

,11

li ' ■

3, Its
,_ y

r-lV £

-, &c.

._ {-^r_

97. In finding the first formula for the radius of cur-

(dx^ +dy^)i , , .

vature, VIZ. ?■ — — ^^ -p^ — '—, we have regarded x

as the independent variable ciuantity. Now, to shew the
use of the formulae investigated in last article, let it be re-
quired to transform it into another, in which y shall be the
independent variable quantity. In the first place, employ-
ing the notation of last article,

'— 1^ — y" '

dx^

Now, by the preceding article, to pass from the hypo-
thesis of y, a function of x, to that of x, a function of y, we

1 x"
must make y' ZZ —ft and y" ZZ j^- This substitution be-
ing made, we find

x" d y d'^x

The second of these expressions is got from the other,

d X d^ X
by substituting - — for x', and 5- for x".

d y dy

98. Sometimes it is necessary to consider both x and y
(a function of x") as functions of some third quantity t ; and
in this view of the matter, neither the fluxions of x nor y
can be consideied as constant. For example, in mechanics,
we may consider r and iy, the co-ordin^^tes of the path of a
pojectile, as functions of t, the time of the motion.

Let us suppose, that when t becomes t -f 2, then x be-
comes x -f /;, and y becomes y ■\- k \ and to abridge, let us
denote

dt dt

dy d^y

dy d'^y

J-, &c. by jr',a/', &c.

-:jT'-a?''^'^-^yv'^y"y^<^-

I-, Sec. by (/),(;/'), 8cc.

d X dx
Then, by Taylor's theorem,

y —f{x) gives k — (/) h -f {y") Y + Sec- CO

y =Z F (/) gives k — y' i + y" ~ + &c. (2.)

X ZZ.'P (0 gives /( — x' i -f x" — + Sec. (3.)

As the increments k, A, :', arc all generated together,
in conse(|uence of a change in the value of /, these three
equations nmst all hold true at once. Therefore, by sub-
stituting the value of /;, as given by the third equation in
the first, and then putting the two values of k equal to
each other, we get

^r'i-f-^'i-.f See. ?

-f Sec.

■y'i+y"-^ + i^<^-

Hence, by finding the second power, £>cc. of the se-
ries, and puithig the co-efficients of the powers of i^O,
we find

x' iy') = y', x" {y') + x'^- (y") zzy", Sec.

therefore, (y') =^, (i/')=:

-, Sec.

X- - • x'^

99. Let us again take the formula for the radius of
curvature, as an example, which, when expressed in con-
formity to the notation of last article, will be r — —
3

By substituting for (/) and (y") their

l^ + iy'r]

(/)

values, the formula becomes -

x'y"—y'x"

and revert-

1 . • /■ . d X - , d y .

ine 10 the usual notation, (puttina;— ; — tor x,—^ tor v,
& ' "■'^ *= off ' dt ^ '

for x", and ^ ^ for y", we find

rfj2

di^

_ {dx- + dy^)^
dxd^y — dyd^x

Here the fluxions are supposed to be taken relatively to
a quantity t, which does hot indeed appear in the formula,
but nevertheless it must be kept in view.

Of the Fluxions of Functions, which contain two Inde-
ftendenl Variable Quantities.

100. We have hitherto considered only functions of a
single variable quantity ; and this is the most common
case ; but a function may involve two or more variable
quantities, which are quite independent of each other. In
geometry, if we suppose any point on the surface of a
sphere, to be referred to tliree planes perpendicular to
each other, which pass through its centre, and put x, y, z,
for the co-ordinates of that point, and a for the radius; the
equation of the surface is x^ -{- y" -i- z^ ZIZ a^ . (Curve
Lines.) Here each of the quantities x, y-, z, may be con-
sidered as a function of the other two, which may vary in=
dependently of one another.

FLUXIONS.

157

Let u be any function whatever of two independent vari-
able quantities x, y ; or, following the notation of art. 45,
let uZ^J {x,i/) ; and let x and y change their values, so
that X becomes x-\-h, and y becomes y-{-k,/i and k, liow-
ever, being supposed quite independent of one another.
By the change in the value of x, z becomesy(jr+/i, ;/) ;
and again, in consequence of y also changing its value,
it becomes y (x-f/;, y-\-k. Now, if wc first develope
/{x-\-h, y), supposing x variable, and y constant, and then
substitute in that partial developemcnt y-\-k for y, wc shall
evidently have the complete developement of(.r-}-A,y+^).
Or we may reverse the process, first developingy(;r, zz+zt),
considering x as constant, and then substituting x^^^/l in
the result instead of x ; and by either method, we shall
evidently arrive at the same final result, as if we were to
substitute at once x-\-/i for x, and J/+A- for y, in the func-
tion u.

Proceeding according to the first of these methods,
and supposing that x alone changes its value, we have

d^u

d-'u

d J.2 d y d X

7* +

d*u k*

1 r ''"W „

and so on tor , &.c.

dy'^dx' 2.3

+ &c.

These values of w, — , —-^, &c. being substituted in

the developcment ofy'(x+^, y), we get
f{x + h,y + k)zz
, du , , d'^u k^ d^u k^

n + -— k 4- j — -f &c.

^ dy ^ df 2 ^ dy- 2.3 ^

, du , , d'u dhi k^/i

dydx " ' dy^dx 2

d^u li^ d^u klfi . ,

+ .77^-2- + ^<=-

dx-

d^u h^

-f &c.

dx dx'^ 2 dx^ 2.3

In this developemcnt, y enters into the functions u,

du d'^u , ....

— — , -; — ri &c. exactly as it it were a constant quantity :
dx dx'

But let us now suppose y to become y + k, by which

/(jr-f A, I/) becomesy"(x+/;, y-f^), then, relatively to this

change in the value of y, u becomes

<i« d^uk^ d'u k'

« +-7-:r^ + TTT— + -T-T— + ^c.

and

d u
d X

d y
becomes

dy^

dy^ 2.

d u
Tx

\dx j k \dx)

r+-

f/y2

+ Sec.

\dx) ^^

But it is easy to see, that the expression — ■- indi-
cates, that the fluxion of u is to be taken twice, first re-
latively to X alone, and then relatively to y ; it may there-
fore be more simply written thus-: : — . In like man-

+ 8cc.

This is the complete developemcnt of the new value of the
function it.

101. According to the other method, supposing a: to
remain the same, and y to become y -{- k, the correspond-
ing value of M will beJ'{^x,y-\^k)'ZZ

. du , d^'u k' d^u k^ , ,

"+rf;^ + 7F?-T+^Fsr3 + ^<=-

Here x enters into the functions m, -;— , Sec. as a constant

quantity ; but suppose now, that x changes its value, and
becomes x-^-/i, then u will become
du d^u h^

^ dx ^ dx2 2 ^
Also, (employing the same mode of notation as in the other

developement,) — will become
dy

du d'-u d^u h^

/i A (■ kc.

dy^dxdy ^ dx^dy 2 ^

, d~u .„ ,
and . . will change to

rfz/2

d^u

d y d X

rfSji

;^ +

d* u /*2

d x^dy

.^ + &c.

manner,

dy'

, which means that the fluxion of u is to

be taken once relatively to x, and twice relatively to y,

d^u
may be written thus

di/2 ' dxdy^

and so on for — — — , &c. These new values of m, -—, Sec.

d y^ dy

being substituted in the developement oif{x,y -\- X-), wc

have/ (a.- -j- A, t/ +/.-) —

In genera),

d y'

d X

« + £" +

rf2« hi

d y" d X
of the 7Uh order of the function

means the fluxional co-efficient

d"' u .

dx''
d'u

diu

+ &c.

^ — k 4.

^ dy ^dxdy

dx^ 2.3
d^u Ifik , ,

dx"

in which y alone is

considered as the variable quantity, and again ~r-^ means

the fluxional co-efficient of tlie mth order, taken upon the
hypothesis that x only is variable. This being understood,

■when y becomes y-f it, tlien —, — becomes

dx'^dy 2
, d-u k^ d^u hk^

J. __ _| L grc

^ f/y3 2 ^ dxdy^ 2 ^

d-'u

dy^

2.3

+ &c.
+ &C.

d u

- +

d^u

^■ +

d X

d^u

d X dydx d y d x 2

-f Ecc.

This also is the complete developement of the function k.

102.. If we compare, in these two developements, the

term^ which contain the same powers of It and k, we

d'^u d'^u

shall find this series of equations.

d^u

and - — 5- becomes
dx-'

dhc

d^u

dydx^~ dx^dy

, and in general

dydx d X d y'

d y" d x"' d X'" d y"

• To exemplify this notation, let « = x;>', then ^ = 3 x'-y ; j-^ = 6x'y; ^^^/^ ^

■.6x-: Also, ;^ = dxy-f-j—- — - = 12«',

158

FLUXIONS.

The first of these equations shews, that the Jluxional co-
efficient of the second order of a function, containing two
■variable r/uantitien, taki-n frut relatively to the one, and
then rclutixiclij to the other, in the very same, in whatever
order noe proceed in finding the Jluxiona. Tliis is an im-
ponant theoi-em in tlie calculus. To cxemplity tliis pro-
perty, let jizzx'^y" , then, taking the fluxion in respect of

X, we find — ZTOTX""' v" ; and again, taking tlie fluxion

in respect of y, — Z=. m n x'"-' i/"-^ By proceeding

d II d X

d u

in the contrary order, we find — - zrn x""!/"

and

dxdy
ZZ.mn x""-' !/""', the same result as before.

The otiier equations given above are merely conse-
quences of the first.

103. As, by the transition of a single variable quantity
from one state of magnitude to another, there originates
from any function of that quantity a series of other func-
tions, which are denominated its fluxional co-efficients,
(Art. 23. and 41.); a function of two independent variable
quantities must have an analogous property. If wc com-
pate the developement of a function of a single varial)le
quantity (Art. 52.) with that of a function of two indepen-
dent variable quantities (Art. lUO. and iOl.), we see im-
mediately wherein that analogy consists. In the former
case, when x becomes x-fA, u any function of x, becomes

d u d^u h''' ^ , ■ , , i_ • r

uA hA f-&c. ; and m the latter, u bemg a tunc-

^ dx ^dx2 2 ^ ' ' f>

tion of the independent quantities x and y, when x becomes

du
x-\-h, and y becomes y-\-k ; then u becomes k -f — h -\-

"-+'-7;^+--

As in the for-

When u is a function of x only, instead of — d x, it is

usual to write simply d u, because, when there is only one
variable quantity, the symbol du can have but one mean-
ing ; but when there are two variable quantities, it is ne-
cessary to indicate what part of the wlioie fluxion results
from each ; which is conveniently done by writing the

fluxional co-efiicients thus, ( ), ( ), as was done

'\dx )'\d y I'

as is now the

du d'^u/i'^ d^u
dy Hx^ 2 dxdy
mer case, the co-efficient of the simple power of the incre-
ment h is the Jfuxional co-efficient of the ftmction ; in the
latter, the co-efficients of ttie simple powers of the two in-
crements h and Xr, may be regarded as the fluxional co-
efficients of the function : So that, while in a function of a
snigle variable quantity, there is only one fluxional co effi-
cient of the first order; in a function of two independent

. , , ... d u , . , . ,

variable quantities there are two, one — , which is rela-

d X

tive to X, and another — , relative to y.
dy

Moreover, as when m is a function of a single variable

quantity, the fluxion of u is indicated by multiplying its

fluxional co-efficient byrfx, (the symbol for the fluxion

of X,) so that the fluxion of the function may be expressed

thus — d X ; in the case of u, a function of two indepen-
dx

dent variable quantities, there will be two fluxions con-
nected with the function, one derived from the variable

quantity x, which will be expressed by — d x, and the

other derived from y, which must in like manner be ex-
pressed by — dy. These are called the fiartial fluxions

of the function ; and, in the language of the differential
calculus, the /lartial differentials, also, by some, the /lar-
(ial differences. The sum of the partial fluxions, viz.

d u d u

■J- d X -\- —- dy \% the whole fluxion of u considered as a

ex dy

function of x and ;/.

, _ , • I 1 d u d u

by l:,uler, or more simply thus, , ■

d X d y

common practice.

lot. As examples of functions of two independent va-
riable quantities, 1. Let u^zzx-^y, then du^dx-\-d y.

r. T . d II , d 11 , ,

2. L.el u^.xy i tiien — - — "u.and — — ax~i/ax,also

dx ^ dx '

~x and

d u

dy^Zx dy, therefore duzZy d x-}-x dy.

I ■■^1 d u

Let J/— — , then — - —

y dx

du
~dj

d X d u X dy , d x

d y -^ ^ ; hence, duZZ.

dtzz

y dy

y d X — r d y

y* " ' y y^

In these examples, we have evidently got

the same results as if x and y had been functions of some
third quantity t, (Art. 29. and 30.) Iijdeed this ought to
be the case, seeing that the fluxion oF u cannot be affected
by the circumstance of y being a function of x, unless the
paiticular form of the function be assigned.

lOS. From the first fluxion of u, a function of the inde-
pendent variable quantities x and y, we find its second

fluxion thus; h\:zzM%e d uZZ—;-^ d x -\- — — dy, therefore

rf'"~cfl--j — rfxl-frf/-— — dy\; but, employing still

, . .1 d u \ d'u . d^ u

the same notation, d(— — dx \zz. . , rfx'-f- dxdy,

\ dx I dx dydx

and d I —, — dy l^ — dy dx-i —dy^, here dx and

\ d y '/ [I ^ J.. ^ • J-.i y

y ' / dxdy

dy are considered as constant

d^ u d^ u

^-7 — — (Art. 102.) we have
dy dx ^ '

d^u d- u

d'^ zi— -;— ^dx--f 2 _,_, dxdy-i-

dy^
Therefore, observing that

dx dy~

d^u

dy'-.

dx^ ' ' dxdy~ ~^ ' dy

Thus we see, that the second fluxion of the function u is
composed of three partial fluxions of the second order.
Tlie third, and higher fluxions of u, may be found in the
same manner.

106. From functions which contain two independent va-
riable quantities, we might proceed to such as contain
three. Supposing k to be a function of the three indepen-
dent variable quantities x, y, z, it will huve three partial
fluxional co-efficients, one relative to x, which may be ex-

pressed by the symbol

du
d X

; another relative to y, which

will be

d u

and a third relative to r, which will be •

Thus there are three partial fluxions, whose sum

dz '
d ti
d X

rfx+

d u

dy-j- --—-dr, is the complete fluxion of z/. Our
limits, however, will not permit us to enter farther into

FLUXIONS.

J 59

this branch of the subject: besides, it is easy to extend
what has been already shewn, to functions of any number
of quantities.

jlfifilication of Irifinitesimals to Fluxions.

107. The celebrated Leibnitz founded his theory of the
diSVrcntial calculus upon the doctrine of infinitely little
quantities. To this method it has been objected, that tlie
notion of infinitely small quantity is too vai^ue to form the
foundation of a mathematical theory, and on this account
it has been laid aside by late writers, in establishing the
principles of the calculus. It must be coiifcssed, how-
ever, that this view of the subject gives readily all the
rules for the calculus, and affords a great facility in its ap-
plications to geometry and mechanics, particularly in ques-
tions of an intricate nature. Oii this account it is valuable,
and, besides, we can always verily the results by more ri-
gorous methods.

108. Leibnitz supposed that variable quantities were
augmented by infinitely small increments, which might be
neglected in respect of finite quantities, but which admit-
ted of being compared among tliomselves. He therefore
assumed, that two magnitudes which only differed by an
indefinitely small quantity, might be taken the one for the
other. The infinitely small increment of x was denoted
by the symbol dx, that of i/ by dy, and so on. And it fol-
lowed immediately from his principle, that in the deveiope-
nients of the increments of a function, all the powers of
dx and dy that were higher than the first might be ne-
glected. Thus, to find ilie differential or fluxion of .r v ;
having developed the product {x-\-dx) {ij-'rdy^Z^x y-{-
x dy-\-y dx-\-dx dy, and subtracted the primilive iunctiun
X y, he rejected the term dxdy, as infinitely little in re-
spect of the two others, and tlius got d{xy')':^x dy-\-y dx.
In elTect, since 1 : dx : : dy : dx dy, if we regard dx as
infinitely less than any finite quantity represented by 1, then
dx dy must be infinitely less than dy or dx. If x:zi!/, then
d{x^)'ZZi X dx. By substituting now x'^ insteafi of i/, and
2xdx instead of f/i/, in the ior a\\x\a. d{xy)'ZZ.xdy-\-y d x,
we get rf(x^)~3i-2 dx, and in this way, tne fluxion of a-"
may be found.

With regard to fluxions of the higher orders, his theory
required that fluxions, or differentials of the second order,
should be considered as infinitely little in respect to those
of the first order ; and therefore as homogeneous with the
squares of these last. Hence, to find tlie second and high-
er differentials; it was only necessary to consider the diffe-
rentials as new variable quantities, which had themselves
difl'ercnlials of the next higher order, and to reject from
the result all the terms wiiich were of an order superior to
tiiat one.

109. Let X and y be the co-ordinates of a curve, and z
an arc between the top of the ordinate and some deter-
minate point in the curve. Suppose now x to be aug-
mented by the infinitely little line d x ; then, correspond-
ing to this, y will be'augmentcd by dy, and z by d z. As
this last quantity is indefinitely little, it may be taken as a
straight li\)e, which, when produced, will be a tangent to
the curve. The three indefinitely little lines, or differen-
tials, dx, dy, dz, form the sides of a right-angled triangle,
from which it is easy to deduce the tangent, and every

thing relating to the curve. Thus, -^ will manifestly be

the trigonometrical tangent of the angle which a tangent

f/r
to the curve makes with the axis, and consenuentlv -r- y

^ ' dy

will be the subtangent. Also, y d x will be the infinitely
little increment, or differential of the area ; and, from the
nature of a right-angled triani^'lc, we have ^{d x^ -\-dy^)
^: dz, which is the formula lor the differential of the arc.

1 10. Although Leibnitz's view of the subject led to cor-
rect results, he did not seize the true spirit of his method.
He ought to have given a better reason for rejecting cer-
tain quantities, than that of their being indefinitely small,
when compared witli others which he retained. The truth
was, they ought to have been rejected, in order to make
the results correct. On this subject, a small tract by Car-
not, entitled, Jifjicxionn sitr la Meta/iliyiique du Catcul /.i-

Jiniieii/iial, may be consulted.

SECTION III.
Of the Inverse Method of Fluxions.

111. The Inverse Method of Fluxions, called also the
Integral Calculus, treats in general of the manner of find-
ing the fluent of any proposed fluxion ; or it teaches how
to find fluents, whose fluxions shall have to each other any
assigned relation. The general problem to be resolved,
is far more difficult than iii the direct method. In this
last, it is always possible to find the relation of the fluxions,
when that of the variable quantities themselves is known ;
but to determine on the contrary, the relation of the varia-
ble quantities from that of their fluxions, is, in many cases,
a problem that requires the utmost resources of analysis
to give even an approximation to the solution. This arises
fiom the nature of the problem not admitting of general
rules. All that can be done, is to compare any proposed
fluxion with such fluxions as are derived from known
fluents, by the direct method ; and if they have the same
form, we may conclude that the fluents, or at least their
variable parts, are functions of the same form.

As in the direct method, all (|uantilies are reduced, by
proper transformations, to a certain number of elementary
functions ; so in the inverse method, we must endeavour
to transform complex fluxional expressions into others
more simple, so as to reduce them, if possible, to some
fluxion, whose fluent is known.

1 12. W^e have employed the letter rf as a symbol to in-
dicate the fluxion of any fluent. To denote the fluent of
any fluxion, we shall now employ the character J', the
initial letter of the word sjim, which has been adopted
generally by foreign, and ])artially by British mathema-
ticians. Accordingly, hy J'ax" dx, the fluent of the ex-
])ression a x" d x is meant. What we have called a fluent,
is sometimes denominated by British mathematicians, and
always by foreigners, tlie Integral ; and to inttgrate a

Jluxion, or differential, has the same meaning as to find its
fiitcnt. The process by which the integral is found, is

Fundamerital Rules.

113. We have found (.\rt. 27. and 28.) that in a func-
tion consisting of several terms, such as are constant always
disappear in taking its fluxion ; so that ti being supposed
variable, and c constant, the fluxions of u and a -f- c, are
the same expression d u. Therefore, on the contrary, the
general expression fur the fluent o/" d u tvill be w ■\- c, in
luhich c denotes an arbitrary constant c/uantity, which can
only be determined by the fiarticular nature of the inijuiry

160

FLUXIONS.

ill which the faixion occurs. This constant quantity is com-
monly called ljy writers on Fluxions, the Correction of the
fluent.

114. By reversing the principal rules of the direct me-
thod, v'c tind as many lor tlic inverse nietliod.

I. The Jluait of a Jluxion consisting of several terms, is
the sum of the Jluents of its terms, each retai?ii/iff its sig?:,
unci co-efficient (art. 27.) Thus, if dyZZadv — b d u, then
yZZa V — b u + c, putting c for the constant quantity, or cor-
rection of the fluent.

II. As the lluxion of x" + c Is n x"-^ d x ; (Rule (A)
Art. 26.) on the contrary, the fluent of 7i x'''~^ d x, will be
x" -\- c i that is, we must increase the exfioncnt by unity, and
reject the factor d x; and divide by the exfioncnt thus increas-
ed. Hence also,

(*. „ _, Ax" + \
'Ax"dxzz-

n + I

As particular examples,

'adx _2

~/a jr-5 rf x— — ia X-'

+ c.

+ c=-

r+^--

Also,

This rule applies to all fluxions which can be reduced to
the form z'rfz. For example, let the fluxion be a x"~^
dx(b + ex")'" : as the fluxion of A + e x" is nex'^~^dx,
we may bring the first factor ax''-^dx to this form, since
it only differs in the constant factor n e. Accordingly, put-
ting 2— d-f-e x" , we have

— Xne x«-i d X (b+e x" )"■ = —z^'dz ;
ne V ■ / jjg

Therefore the fluent is

rmtl

or •

(b+ex'')'"*^+c.

n e(in-\- 1 ' "' Jif (?H-f I
The transformation which has introduced z is not absolute-
ly necessary, and, in such a case, may with advantage be
avoided. In like manner,

/6v^(4x2-f3)xrfx=i(4.r2-f3)2+c.

III. The foregoing rule fails when n~ — 1, because then

z—'^-dzzz.- — t-Cj an expression of which the first term is

infinite; but this happens because the fluxion belongs to

another kind of function. It appears from Art. 26, Rule

p dz
(B), that/ =1. (z)-J-c, and more generally that

-=l(a + r)+c.

Therefore, if a fluxion be a fraction of which the man era-
tor is the fuxion of the de?iominator, the fluent will be the
.N'ajiierean logarithm of the denominator. In this case, it is
convenient to put the constant quantity added to the fluent
under the form 1. (r).
5x^d X

The fluxion:: — ^"^^' '^ innmediately reduced to this rule

Tliis mariner of expressing a fluent Is of great importance:
writers on the diflcrential calculus call it the method of in-
tegrating by fiarts. As an example, let the fluxion be
\. i^x) d .V ; then, putting dt=:dx, and u=:\. (^x), so that

d u:^ — , we have

f\. {x) d x=.x 1. (r)— x+ r.
The rule indicated by the formula has the advantage of
making the fluent depend upon another, which, by analyti-
cal address, may frc(|uently be more easily obtained.

V. From rule (D), art. 26, if the ladius of a circle be
unity, we have

dz , • V

; arc. (sin. ~z)-fc,

3x*-f-7
fay a proper adaptation of its constant factor

/'S \2x^dx'
X2

thus.

S-r*

_5_

"12

p.(3x*-f7)-fl.(c)l
1. \c{ox* + 7)\

iV. We have found, (Art. 29.) that u and t being any
i'tmctions of a variable quantity, d(^u t)~ u d t-{-t d u, there-
fore,

M fZzCu d t-\~^l' t du

and f'ud tZZii t—ft d u.

V(l-z^)
■—dz

d arc. (cos. ~r) + c.

2"= arc (tan.=:z)-|-c.

^(1-2^)

By these expressions are meant the arc, of which the sine
and cosine are z. Again, from art. 35,
d z

We may also suppose the radius ~r, and we shall have

^(r^—z") = arc (sin. = z)-fc.
To find the fluent of — . , '„ , we put it under this form,

also I

tn
a

a + bz^
dz

bz^

7)1 la d t

arc (tan. =t) is

by makmg =i*. Iherefore, — -. — -r

' ^ a \/(.ab)

the fluent sought, supposing the radius unity, and hence

In like manner we find,
m d z

s/ia^—b

—-ZZ —77 • arc (sin. — — >/ A)-f c.
z^ x/o a

The direct method furnishes other rules, which will be no-
ticed in the sequel.

Decornfiosition of Rational Fractions.

115. Let it be proposed to resolve the fraction

j; x-\-l

into two others, of which it shall be the

(x — a)(x — b)

sum. With a little attention it will appear, that the frac-

A B

tions souarht may have the form and 7, A and B

° ' X — a X — b

being indeterminate co-eflicients, which are independent

of X. By reducing them to a common denominator, and

. (A4-B)x— (AA-faB)
addina;, their sum is -^^ — -r—- — —, -rr — -, which, com-

(x — a) (x — b)

pared with the proposed fraction, gives A + B~/(:, 6A +
a B~ — /, from these equations we get

^— _if±l B=-*+'

b—a

Hence the practicability of the resolution, and the manner

of performing it, are shewn.

r ■ k x'^ ■\-l X -\- m
Next, let the fraction — _■,,.,_ rr "^ proposed.

(x — a)2(x-

Ax-fB , C
We may suppose itZZ-;-;;;; ^-\-

■b)

- , , , , • By reducing to

(x — ay X — b °

a common deiioininaloi, we find yC- x-+ /x-|-7n :::; (A+C)
x2 + (B— A 6— 2aC)x+(n2 C— lU).

FLUXIONS.

161

llciicc, by llic llicory ol" iiiJetcrmiiiatc co-cflicients, A- =
A + C, /=B— A b—2a C, m=ra-' C— B b.

By these equations, which are all ol' tlic first dcj^i-ce, A,
B, and C may he determined. Exactly in the same niun^
iier U will he I'ound, that the fiaction
k x^-'flx^ + mx+n

{x—af{x-b)
may be decomposed, so as to be equivalent to

Ax^+ B;c+C

x—b

(r— «)5

In general, let-^ be an irreducible fraction, such, that

the highest power ofx in the numerator is one less than its

highest power in the denominator, and let V = PxQ, P and

Q being polynomials which have no common factor, and in

which the exponents of the highest powers of jc are fi and

U A .rA-» + B xP-^ . . . + L
q. We may assume -—— \-

M X?-' + . . . + L'

When these fractions are reduced to

a common denominator, the new numerators will be poly-
nomials of a degree of which the exponent is/; + 'y — 'i t'le
same as that of U, the numerator of the proposed frac-
tion : therefore, by assuming that the sum of these polyno-
mials is equal to U, and putting the co-efficients of like pow-
ers of X equal to one another, there will result /;-f 7 equa-
tions, by which such values will be found for the indetermi-
nate quantities A, B, . . . L and A', . • • L' (which are /i-|-
(] in number) as will make the two expressions identical.

If P and Q are themselves the product of two factors
prime to each other, the new fractions may be decomposed
in all respects like the original fraction, and so on : and
proceeding in this way, the Jiro{iosed fraction vxay be decom-
posed into as many otliers as there are unequal /actors in its
denominator, the Jiartial 7iumerators being comfilete fiolijno-
mials of a degree less by one than that of their denomina-
tors.

1 16. Whatever be the degree of the numerator of the ra-
tional fraction ■^, by division it may be brought to a lower

degree than its denominator. The decomposition of the
fraction thus prepared presents four cases.

Case I. If the denominator V has real and unequal fac-
tors, or if V=(x — a) {x — b) . . x S, we may suppose

U A . B . P

Example 1. Let the fraction be

2 A:X

. Bythethe-
X' — X — 2 '

ory of equations, (Algebra,) if a, 6 be the roots of the

equation x' — x — 2—0, then x- — x — 2rr(x — a) (.r — b).

The equation gives j?— -f- 2 and x^ — 1 ; therefore a--—

X — 2;^(j; — 2) (x-fl) so that we must assume

2—4 X A B

x^ — X — 2

X — 2

Hence we find A= — 2=B, and the proposed franction =

2 2_

2 — x x-i-1 ■

Ex. 2. In like manner for the fraction -

a^—xi •

a-\-x

— , by reducing to a common denominator, and put-
ting the numerators equal to one another, we find 1 ~
ff Vol. IX. Part. I.

(B — A) r-f a (B + -'\) ; herewc must make B — AzT 0, and
a (I5-f A)— 1, which gives B— A — — , and

■2a'

+ T

Ex. 3. Assuming

x^ 2 a [ci -|- .r) 2 a {a — a;)
I A . B

.= ^ +

' x{a'—x')~ X ^ a-^x^ a—x '
have l=Aa=+ax^-|-C) + x'' (C— A — B,) which gives

l=.\a = , B+C=0, C—A-_B=0; hence A=— , B = —

' /- 1 ,

— -ST, C~ — rrithUS- ,- -.,-^ -^j 5— r— i-

2a-' 2a-' x{a^ — x') a'x 2 a^ {a -\- x)

2 a '-(a — x) '

Case II. When the denominator V has unequal and
imaginary factors of the first degree, which, when multi-
plied two and two, produce real factors of the second, so
that

y=l{x'+lix+q){x-+p'x-Sf.q') . . . X S,

we may suppose

U_ Aj--t-B CjT-t-D

\r "~~ -2 1 y, „ L„-r „i! r <,' ». r „» • • • T ;

'x -^fl x-^q x~ -{-/i' x-\-q'

„ ^ „ .r2_jj-fl A , BjT-j-C

i,x. 4. buppose ■ r-, rrZZ -w.

(l-f.r)(l+x-') 1 +.r ^ \-i-x-

this example. A— 4> B^Czi — J.

0.-3 — 1

X— 1

Ex. 5. In like manner, assuming that

R r-i-C
+ " ^^ , we find A=Cn— B=4.
x^-\-x-{-l, '

Case III. If V has real and equal factors, so that V's

(x — a)" S, we may assume

U A x"-i -h B x"-2 . P

V^ {x — a)"

but it is better to put
U A

"S'

- +

\u-l + • • • '

V {x — a)" ' (x— a)"-' ' x—a ' S '

By reducing to a common denominator, the two assump-

tions are evidently the same.

Ex. 6. Thus for the fraction

,1-3 + ;c^ -f 2

-,al-

x(x_l)-(.r-fl)^

A B jc* -I- C

though it may be decomposed into — -f- —. r-^- +

^^y„ Which gives A=Z2, B = — J, C =— E=i,D =
— ^, it will be better to make the fraction =

-I-

(x-fl)^ ' x-f l^ (x—lf ' X— 1

This expression, by substituting the values of A, B, C, Sec,
becomes

2
x~*(x-J-l) =

;7+T"^(x— 1)^~~*

X 1'

Ex. 7. In like manner

7(rfxTiJ+^^) '' ''1^^'*"

lent to

, also to

I 2x+3 X

X (T+Tp""^ l+x-fx2

2 1_ 2 X

X {x-{-\f x-f l"^ l+x-\-x^

162

FLUX10^S.

Case IV. Supposing ilie laciors oi Uie uhiomiul
x^ -\- ft X -\- g to be iiiias^inaiy, il' V has lor a faclov
{x^+fi x^-i-l)" > we may make

U _ Ax''"-'-fBx2"-'+ ■ . ■ +T P
V "" (x' + /I x+c/Y '■ b'

or rather,
U

A^+B

C.r+D

V (x^+fi x + f/)" ^ C^-' +/i x+y)"-'

1
Ex. 8. Thus, we make

l+x

^.+ ^+

(l+x)x^x'+^)ix' + l)'
Djt+E Fx+G Hx+I

x''+2"^ (x^+\f' x^ + l

K=:A+B(^_a) + C(j:— a)-'+ . . .
Now, make x:^a, and put u and s to denote as before^

and we have AzzKlz: — ; and shice
a

K— A— BCx_a)-fC(.r_a)*-f . . .

the first member K — A must be divisible by x — a ; it will

therefore have the form K, (x — a) ; hence,

K— B + C(x — 0.)+ . . .

Suppose now x'^za, and that then K^ becomes k,, thus

we have B::zX-^, and so on.

Or wc may employ the fiuxional calculus; for since

KizA+B(x— a3 + C(.r— a)2+ . . .

and find by taking the fluxions.

• F: G = }, H=.

A=JL, B= — C = J, D =

1 17. The manner of determining the quantities A, B, C,
&c. as expressed in last article, is that suggested Ijy the
theory of indeterminate co-efficients, (Algebra, art. 313.)
but it is very tedious. We shall now shew how the labour
may be greatly abridged.
U

^ ■' V X — a

A P

|- - be an identical equation, and V

^S {x — a), supposing also that x — a is not a factor of S,
we propose to find A independently of P.

Reducing to a common denominator, we get
U==AS-fP(x— q).
As this must hold true for every value of x, let x=a, and
let us suppose, that upon this hypothesis U and S become
iL and s respectively, then

«=A», and A^-.
Thus, iu the case of the fraction -j-

d X d X

,f/V

^insr xi' for the value of when a is substituted in it in-

° d X

otcadof .r, we have v'^Zs ; therefore also A~— ,
I

rfV

In the fraction -t;-^ — ■,, U:r:l, ^'Ira■- — x"^ ; therefore ■

a — X d X

d\
— — 2x; when x^a, U becomes if^zi, and — be-
comes u'zZ — 2 a, therefore, one of the partial fractions is

; -— — :. The other is found by raakina:

2 a(^x—a) 2 a{a — x) ^

X'ZZ-^CL-

(2.) Next, let us consider the case in which — —
A B

T P

+ "§"■

d x2'

=:B4.2C(x— a)-|-3 IVx— a)^-f .
— 2C-f 6D {x—a)+ . . .

d K f/^K
Put /-, /-', k", £cc. for the values of K., — — , -; — s. Sic. re-

dx dx

spectively, in the particular case of x— a ; then, making

that hypothesis, we find

A=J:, B=.k', CzrU", Dzzlk'", &c.

Resuming example 6, of art. 116, we assume

xS—2x^+x (a-t-l)-"*" x+l"^ S'
Hence, ^1±^1#=A+B(;r+ 1)4-|-C^+ 1)S

x{x—\Y — ' ^ ' ' ' S
; x^+2 X — A(3 x^—i x+ 1 )

B+hc.

X{X 1)2

Making now x^z — 1, we find A~ — t, B^z — ^■
(3.) Let the equation be

U_ Ax-fB P

a — X a — X a-\- x
we have \=\(a+x)+B{a — x). When x=a, this equa-
tion becomes 1=2 Aa; and when x = — a, it becomes

1 =2 B a ; hence A=B= -— .
2 a

Taking the fluxions of the identical equulion \' = S

Qr a), considering that V and S are functions of x, we

find — = — (x — a)4-S ; supposing now x— a, then, put- |jg

V x^+/ix + ij ■ S'
then U=(Ax+B)S4-P(x2-f/ix+7).

If we substitute for x, one of the imaginary roots of the
equation x*-f/i x +173:0, P will disappear, and the result
will contain two kinds of terms, one real, and the other
imaginary. We must now put the real quantities on each
side of the equation equal to one another, and also the
imaginary quantities : thus two equations will be obtained,
by whicii A and B may be determined.* Let the fraction

X _ Ax-fB P

(x— 1) [x^+x+l)" x^ + x-f 1"^ S'

hcncex=(Ax-fB) (x— 1) -f P(x2-f x-f 1).

Now x2-fx+l=0 gives x= — i=i=iv'' — 3) therefore,

by substituting in this last equation, it becomes

' ' =^aV— 3=i=3Bv/— 3— 4B.'
Hence, putting the real and tlie imaginary parts separate-
ly equal, and dividing the latter by
11^=*/ — S, we find

_^=_|B, J=— A-f|B;
therefore — .^ = 8=^.

(4.) Let us consider the fraction, when -^ =

Ax+B A'x-fB'

-I-

Let both sides of the equation be multiplied by

(x — a)" [x — a)"—'

Let both members of the equation be multiplied by (^^i^fix + c/)" , and observing that V=(x2-f/jx+y)'»S.
(a; — a)" > then observing that V— (x — c)" S, and putting K.

for -^, we have
3

let K = -^, and we have

K=Ax+B+(A'x-fB') (x2+/ix+9)+ac,

• For the management of impossible or imaginary quantities, see Algebra, Art. 190 — 194,

FLUXIONS.

163

This case is compounded of tlie two preceding, and
inust be treated in tlie same manner. In tlic fust jdace,
we substitute for x one of the roots of the equation
x^-\-p X -\- q = 0, by which the cf|uation is reduced to
K = Aa:4-B. The real and imaginary quantities are now
to be made separately equal, as in last case ; and hence
two equations are got, by which A and B are determined.

I5y taking the fluxions of both sides of the equation^ we
find

^=A + (A'.r+B')(2^-+/0;

here we omit all the terms in which x^ -\- fi ^r -{■ <j is a
factor. By substituting, in tiiis expression, the imagi-
nary value of X in the equation x"-\-fix-\-(j=Oi and put-
ling the real and imaginary terms on each side equal,
two equations are found, by which A' and B' are deter-
mined.

For example, let the fraction be

assume it

Ax+B

(ar2_2x-|-2)2
A'x+B'

(:c2 — 2j:+2J2 ' x^ — 2x + 2
By reducing to a common denominator, we find
x3 — -ix^+x — 3 =
Ax:+B + {A'x + 'a') {x^—2x+2).
One of the roots of the equation x^ — 2 .r + 2 = 0 is
x=\-\-y/ — 1. This being substituted for x, the equation
becomes

— 4—^—1 =A+B-fA^—l.
Hence the two equations are A + B= — 4, and A = — I,
therefore B^ — 3. Substituting the values of A and B in
the equation, and transposing, we have

x'— 2x^-j-2x==(A'x-j-B') (.r2 — 2jr + 2);
and taking the fluxions, and dividing by d x;

3a;^— 4ar-|-2 = (A'x-f B') {2 x—%) + hc.

By again substituting 1 -f- v/ — 1 for a;, this equation
becomes — 2 -f 2^— 1 = — 2 A'-f-2(A'-l-B').^/— 1 : hence
A'^I, B'=0 ; therefore the proposed fraction is equivalent
to

x-f-3 X

(jT-— 2x+2)2 ' o,-^ — 2x+2

X — a
Ax+1&

{x — q)"
Aar-fB

118. The decomposition of the rational fraction — into

partial fractions, requires that the denominator V= A a"
+ B jr"~'+C jr"~2 , _ , _j.L be resolved into its real factors
of the first or of the second degree, which can only be ef-
fected by the resolution of an equation of the nth order.
This problem, however, cannot be completely resolved,
except in the lower degrees, and particular cases of the
higher, in the present state of analysis. When the func-
tion V has the form x"" +2 ax" +1, (a being less than
unity,) or when it can be reduced to that form, it may be
elegantly resolved into its factors by the trigonometrical ta-
bles, as explained in Arithmetic of Sines, art. 23, 25.
This case comprehends also x" =±il. On the general re-
solution of equations, consult Lagrange De la Resolution
des Equations Mumeriques. On the decomposition of ra-
tional fractions, see Euler Inst. Cal. Differ entialis Pars.
Post. cap. xi.

Fluents of Rational Fractions.

119. We have seen, that every rational fraction may be
tl'educedto partial fiactions, which have these forms,

x'^ + px + q' (x^+fix+q)"'

A, B, fi, q, n, being constant quantities, and the factors of
x'^+fi .r-\-q imaginary quantities. If we make x=z — ^fi,
and put (3^=ry — 1/'^> the two last fractions arc transform-
ed to

Ar + B' A;-fB'

?q:;3- ' {z+ii-^)"'

Hence the fluents of rational fractions may be compre-
hended in lour cases.

A d X
Case I. The fluent of is A x !• {x — a) + 1. (c),

(.Art. 114, Rule III.) But 1. (r) being a quantity altoge-
ther arbitrary, we may put instead of it Axl. (c'), and then

the fluent is also Axl. \c'{x — a.)\ ■

. , . dx [ C d X d X ^ , „

And smce— ■ = — - < 1 J., (art. 1 16. Ex-

a2 — jc2 2a\a-\-x^ a—x S

ample 2.) therefore the fluent of •

d X

^|l.(«4-,r)_l.(«_x) + l.(c)j,

p dx 1 , c(a-\-x^

tJ a^ — x^ 2a a — x

In like manner.

(2— 4jr) d X

■,dx 2dx

has for

x'^ — X — 2 2 — X x-\- \

its fluent — 2 1. (a- -— 2) — 2 1. (x + 1) + 1. (c), or I.

{x'^—x — 2)2'

A d X
Case II. The fraction rr has for its fluent

—A

(a—a)"
^3, (art. 114. Rule II.)

(„_1) ^x-a)

We have found (art. 1 1 6. Ex. 6.) that

d X

-1

J d X

■^(i+i7^-

x-^-Srx--lr2
xi — 2x^-\-x
d X

d X

x+\

Therefore, the fluent of the fraction is

x—\
— ^1. (.r+l)-fc.

Case III. The fraction

2(j:+1)

Ar-f B

■^d z may be resol-

Azdz , Brfz -n, n r , n

ved into —5 7— and —5 5. 1 he fluent ot the first

of these is i A 1. (r" -f /3-) + <r, (art. 114. Rule III.)

and the fluent of the second is — arc ( tan. = -^ 1 -f c

(114. Rule V.) therefore, uniting the corrections of the two
parts into one.

+c.

(- + 5V£.,.,,=.+fl+|„.e(,„_|.)

We have found (art. 116. Ex. 5.) that

X dx ^ d X (.r — 1 )rf z

x3—\ ~'^x— l~"^ar-+Jtr-f r
The fluent of the first term of the second member is
1 1. {x—\) (art. 114. Rule III.) Makea: = r — i, by
which d X =x d z, then the second term is transformed to

^ z^+S + » z^ + f

164

FLUXIONS.

Now tlie nuenl ol the first of these is — A 1. z^ + J ; /» dz

(art. 114. Rule III.) and the fluent of the other is "'" J (:2+^2-)n-i ' '" ^^""^'^ " '^ '"""

^■•3 arc (tan. = '~J~\- therefore, restoring ir in these ex-
pressions, we find

I 2x+l

+ 4 ^ 3 arc ^ tan. = — ^

iminisheU by an unit.

This last, again, is reducible to another, in wliich the ex-
ponent is 11 — 2, and so on, until we come to the fluent of

—\ which is known by Rule V. art. 114.

The fraction ^ ■ -r-r^ — n ■ — ■ will serve to

exemplify this formula ; when decomposed it becomes

By bringing the logarithmic functions into one term, and ( — 2 x + 1) rf x (2j+l)rfjr
supposing the arbitrary correction to be i 1. (c'), the fluent (,^-2.^1)3 "T ^^2^1)2 "^x^-fl"

may also be expressed thus. The first terms of each of the two first fractions give

, C c'(x—\\ \\ , v^3 /. 2.r+l ? P—2xilx 1 P 2 x d .r —I

^{x'+x+l)

/ _ 2-r+l I /»— 2.rr/.r_ 1_ P 2 .r d x

V^"-- ^3 3 ^"(^+173- ac.r'-' + i)^ V(F+Tf

As a second example, let the fluxion be

_ x' + l

(.r^ — x-{-i)d X With respect to the other terms, by our formula

(x-fix^^iy

y' d X _

3 f ^^

V C^r' + if

of our

This (art. 116, Ex. 4.) may be decomposed into ^(^x^^xy 4(x= + i)'

dx (x-i-Wl X /* d r

3 i > '„-i : the latter of these agam may be this last term, joined to the term /t-tt — rir

expressed thus — 2 V^'^i 1 "2^1 • '^"'^"^ fluents of second fraction, gives | f 'r^~B\Y"' '"'"^ ''^^^ '" '''^'^

^.r^ + 1 ''x^ + l
these partial fractions being found as before, tlie fluent of manner
the proposed fluxion is

, £vll±i)',_ A a,c (lan. = x)
Case IV. Let us now consider the fraction

7 a;

(A2-f B)rfz

First we divide it into two,

and

Bdz

\z'+^^Y

The fluent of the first of these is

(--+/3')"

~r , ,~'^ ,, — r; (art. 114. Rule II.) Butifn=l,

then it is i A 1. (z^-f/J^).

120 To find the fluent oF , ~

(z2+,3^)

cqnstant, but indeterminate co-cfhcicnts, and let us as-
sume

p d z K r p Lc/r

J(z==+757'~(z-+,a2)..-i+,/(;2^^2^n-l-

Let the fluxions be now taken, wliich, in respect to quan-
tities affected by the sign A is done by merely rejecting the

sign, and we have

dz Kdz 2K(n— l)z^rfz

7 rjLi_

8(x^-f 1)"^V -r' + l'
Lastly, joining this term to the third fraction, we find

The dift'erent parts united give

— + p, a , ,^ -f V arc (tan. = .r)-f- c

(z^+^^jn

(z-=-f/3^)"-'

L d z

(z^-f/3^)"-'
By reducing these fiaclions to a common denominator,
and rejecting such quantities as are found in all the terms,
we get l = k(z"-f/3==)— 2K(77— l)z'-fL(z^-f/3-),or

\ (2?!— 3) K— L I r^-f 1— ;32^K-f L)=:0 ;

Hence, by the theory of indeterminate co-efficients,
(2 w— 3) K— L=0, l_/32(K-f L)=0.

4(x2+i)- ' &{x^ + \)
for the complete fluent.

121. It appears that the fluent of every rational fraction
is either an algebraic quantity, or else expressible in finite
terms, by circular arcs and logarithms, so that granting
■^— ■ let K and L be the possibility of resolving a rational function into its fac-
tors, this branch of the calculus is perfect.

Leibnitz shewed first how to find the fluents of rational
fractions in the Jcta Eruditorum, 1702 and 1703. But he
did not fully comprehend the theory ; for he made it a
question whether it was possible to express the fluent of

d X
by the circle and lotraridims. John Bernoulli fol-

lowed in the same path as Leibnitz, but their methods
were very laborious : The theoiy was, however, completed,
by the discovery of Cotes, whicii wc have already noticed,
(art. 118.) '

On this branch of the subject, see John Bernoulli, Opera ;
Cotes, Hermonia Mensurarum ; De Moivrc, Miscellanea
jinalytica ; Simpson, Essays on several subjects, and Flux-
ions, Vol.11.; Landen, Mathematical Lucubrations, Part
VII. Euler, /««;. Cal.Diff.et Integralis.

(z^-f.a^)"

From these equations we find K =

L =

2 m-

2(,-!— 1}/32 ^

we find

2(« — 1)/52 ■

Therefore, substituting for K and L,

d z

(z24./32)« 2(n— l)/32(z2-f/3S)n'

2?z— 3 /»

+ 2(n— 1)/3VT^
see the use of thi

/t-t — '^. — is made to depend upon ano- ,. , "" "^ '. ,.™. ,,
t/ (s^-f/S^)" "^ '^ which presents no difliculty.

_:2.-f/32yi-i

It is easy to see the use of this formula ; by means of 6(z''''+-^ '+2<)f/z
/* d z . -^ I 1

it the Huent ^'^ m^rlA fr» r1pr»pn/-l iinnn anA- *- '

Of the Fluents of Irrational Functions.

122. We have shewn how the fluent of every rational
algebraic function may be found ; the same method will
apply to all such irrational functions as can be rendered
rational by transformation. Let us consider, in the first
place, fluxions, in which the terms are singly radicals,
such as

x+^x
it is easy to see that by making x = z*. irrationality disap-
pears, and as (/ X = 6 z^ rf z, the fluxion is transformed to
6 zf/z

6 z*' rfz + 6zrf2 — ^

+T'

FLUXIONS. 165

Let the fluxion be ^^—- d x ; put x =: z' , then d x z=. cos, i/= ,

2 zdz, and the fluxion is transformed to fV-' — e-y*'-'

2-Jdz _ , Idz ^'"•^=

-r=2rfs+

2^-1

- ' . ^ Lainange considered these formulx as one of the moit

of which the fluent is 2 : + log. (2_l)_log. (:+ 1), or beautiful analyti<;al discoveries of the past age. They were

2 /J 11.'^ ^ ^ first given Ijy Euler. For a difi'erent mode of investigating

s/-^-\- ' them see Arithmetic of Sines (29).

123. We are now to consider any function whatever 124. Case II. Let the radical be ^{a+bx—x"); the

affected by the radical ,^ ( A + B.r =±= C .r^) ; which preceding method cannot now be applied without introduc-

mav be also expressed thus /C / (—+~^ r^A '"S imaginary quantities : But in this case the trinomial

' ' ' ^ ^ yC C / a-\-bx — x^ is the product of these two real factors.*

There will be two cases, according as x^ is positive or •^+2v^(6^+4^«)— i*> 5v/(*'+4«) + 2'^ — x.

negative. Let them be denoted by .r — «. and /3 — a.-, and let us

Case I. When the radical has the form y'((2+6.r+.r^); assume

let us assume r ^

j^{a + bx^x'')=x^=l=.z,or =z=b-x, ^{a+b x — x^) = V j^{x — «) {^~xj \^=^{x—«)z.

licnce we find a+6.r=^Jn2a;;+2^, . .

^2 (J 1 hen, squaring and suppressmg the common factor, M'e

X ~ ~5~"< have /3 — x ~ ( JT — a)z^; hence

^"= {b^^2zC—^''-- "-T+T^'"^- (x + z^r ■

Thus the radical, or -r— I— r^ will be rendered rational, as (^^ a)z

well as the proposed function. ^ (a + 6 ^ — .^r') ^ (_x^ a.) z ZZ j r "TI"'

d X

For example, let the fluxion be . ^j. 1 j.a\ • ^y These functions, as expressed by z, are all rational.

putting the radical = z — _i% it becomes -'■ +'^ -+'^, Let the fluxion —r-—-^ j^ be proposed ; then, mak-"

2 z+o .^(."-t"".^ — X )

,. ,n-. r , 2rfz, ing the above substitution, it is immediately transformed

and the proposed fluxion is transformed to ; the °

2- + 6 ' — 2rfz

fluent of which is 1. (2 z+b)+ const, therefore *°T+P"' ^^^ '^"'^"' °^ '''^^^'^^ '^ ~ ^ ^'''^ ''^^"' — ^^' *'^^'"^"

t/ v''("+'^-^+-^') ~" ' l'^ ■'"v'^, T" +^ ;J^ fore, because z := ^ , we have

n^r...,/-^^=^.{clx+^ix^=l=a)^ } ^ , _J.J.arc 5tan. = y^--f I

Suppose rfy = rfxv' («'' +x2); we put v/(n= -fx^) «/'*'(«+* ^ — ^ ) < ""^x — «5

=z — X, hence f/ z/ r=z f/ a.- — xdx, and ys: — ix^-\-fzdx. If we suppose a— 1,6:=0, then, because 1 — x' z:z

^ _ (l+:c) (1 — x), we have a^: — I, /3 ZZ 1 ; in this case, the

Instead of rfr, put its value ^ (a^ + z^), and then, taking formula becomes

the fluent, and substituting, we find /* '^^ -^ -— j. 2 arc 5 tan. :^ / ' ^ ?

(^^^'Jlhe fluent of this fluxion is otherwise expressed by arc

,j. , —dx . ,. ^ (sin. :=ar) + c', (Art. 1 14. Rule V.)

It we put c/y= -^-p-^ under this form d y ^—\ U d y = d x ^ (a^— x^), by applying the transforma-

il X tion, observing thata:^ — a,/3^a, we find

T/T^-ZTY' ^^'^'"g the fluent, we have — S a= z^ rf r

y^—l=].jx+>/(x~—l)l+c. ~ ^'t"^^

I J The fluent may now be foune

dyzz ■

The fluent may now be found by the rules for rational

If 2/ be an arc of a circle, x is its cosine (Rule (D), art. fractions.

26.) and x/(x^ — 1) = ^ — l.sin. y ; the equation of the Tiie same mode of transformation will apply to the

fluents is therefore first case, when the roots of the equation x^ -\- b x + aizO

._ C f are real.

_L_!/^— 1=1. ^ cos. y^rprv/— 1 . sin. y ^ 125. The radicals ^ (a+6.r+x=), and ^ (a+4.r—x^)

The constant correction c in this case must be =0, be- ™^y ^'5° ^^ transformed by making x=:z — ib in the

cause when x—i, y ought to vanish. Moreover we prefix '^''*' '^^^^' ^"^' xz=.z + \b in the second ; they then take

the sign =ln, because'the sign of ^—\ may be either + "^^ ^o^^^ «/ (- =^«'')> a"d ^ (a-=i=z-). In the latter

or — Hence, e being the radical number in Napier's Sys- "r* t'^e, irrationality may be removed by making y,

tem of Logarithms (a\t. 12.) by the theory of logarithms, (a-=±= z") _ a — " z, for then

cos.y + .y — 1. sin. i/siei'''-', 2 a ii ^ !/" =t= 1

cos. y—^— l.sin. j/ = e-»''-i, " — 5P^ET' " """ " "(^^=5= 1)^'

• To prove that the factors are always real, it is to be observed, that as « + Ax — .v- is supposed a posilive quantity, 4« + 4o*r — 4of5
=i'-|-4 a— (4— 2 x)- will also be positive, but (6—2 xy will always bs positive, therefore i= + 4 n must :^lso be positive, and >'T4'-f4n) a
real quantity. » ' >. 1 /

1G6

It is thus tliat

f/.i-

, ,„ , —a- becomes ■ , ,., ,,

FLUXIONS.

-JT) ^y whole number. Hence it appears that when is not

puttiiiy:i ~ A — z ; the fluent may now be loiincl by Rule a ■whole nunil)er, if /; be added, and tlie result be a whole

V. art. 114. Again, niakiii'j ^ [p- — : )nA — itz, the

2 f/M

fluxion is chanecd Ijoui its second form to — j— — - , a
o w + '

fluxion of which the fluent bus been lepealedly assigned.

Of Binomial Fluxions.

126. We propose now to find the fluent of
K .1 " d .r{a + b .t" )f .
m, n,fi, being any luiniburs whalcvc:, whole or fractional,
positive or negative. »

In the first place, we put

zzza -\- b x" i

number, tlic llucnt may still be found.

127. When /i is a fraction, (whicii i^ the most important
case,) and q its denominator, it is most convenient lo as-
sume a -f A jt" iz :' . For example, let it be retiuired lo
find the fluent of

In this case,

x-^dx(^a + x^)~'^,

I^ — J^, to this, if we add /j ^ — ^,

we find — 2 ; therefore we must multiply and divide by

{x^) 3' or X""', and then the fluxion becomes

x-^dx(l +ax-^) i i
We now make l+ax-^z:zz^, from which x ZZ

Hence, .m (^^^) ■ Raising now both members of l~ j ; by raising both sides to the — 6th power,

this equation to the power m -{■ 1, and taking the fluxions, and taking the fluxions, we get

we get

x" rf -r ~

(z-a)-

m+l

x-T dx:=. ^^, =:<

w+1
nb n
By substitution, the proposed fluxion becomes

Hence, by substituting, the fluxion is transformed to

—^{^-^-')d^>

{z-a)

.zPd:

of which the fluent is

3x^ -f- 2a

Now if "' - ~ 1 i this fluxion has the formK'z/'dz,
and its fluent may be found by Rule H. art. 1 14.

jf "' "^ 1— some positive whole number r, the fluxion

2a'x^^{x^+ay

In like manner, the fluxion x^ d x (a^ + x^)'^ be-
comes |rfz (r* — a' z^),by makinga^ + jt^ :=z' ; hence
the fluent is

his the form K' (z — a)rzPdz. This expression may »28. When the mdices do not satisfy one of the two

be developed, by the binomial theorem, into a series of conditions specified m art. 126, the fluxion cannot be ren-
a finite number of terms, each having the form A z^ d z ; dc-'cd rational by any known method ; we may, however,
their fluems may therefore be found as in the former case, reduce it to the most simple form of which it will admit,
and thence the fluent of the proposed fluxion will be by means of the formula/ « rf z= 2. ^—/r rf « (art. 1 14.

Rule IV.)

Let us put MizzP and d f^.x'" d x, then du'^.ftz

known.

If'""* 1 be a negative whole numbers: — r, the

YJzPdz ..

; this expression may be

fluxion will have the form r—--_ .

transformed into a rational fraction, by assuming r :r:M?, <?
being some whole number, such, that /. 7 is also a whole
number, as has been shewn (art. 122).

Therefore, if the exponent of x out of the binomial, in-
creased by tiniiij, be divisible bij the exponent of x in the
binomial, the fiient may always be found by the rules al-
ready explained.

This, however, is not the only case in which we can find
the fluent. If the part of the fluxion in the binomial be di-
vided by X" , and the part without the binomial be multi-

x">*^
m-\-\

; hence,

I X '"+1 d z.

P-Ulz; and t —

/x'" d X .zP =
in-\-\ m-f-1

But z = a -\- b x^ , and d z ■=n b x"-^ d x, therefore,

/^m+l -p ji b
X"' d

/-'-

.ZP=s.'

tJ'

^m+n ^ J. _ -ft-l

m-fl ni-\-

Again, because zP = zP-^ z = zP-^ (a -f 4 x" ), therefore
fx'"dx.zP =:afx'"dx.zP-^ + bfzP-^x'"'-''dx (2)

These values (1) and (2) being put equal, we find
bim+\+n P)fzP-^ X"'*" dx— I

..„ . . x'^'''^zP aUn-\-\)fzP-'^x'" d x\^ ^ '

plied by x^P, which will not change the value, the fluxioa chan-e now /i — 1 into p, and m + n into m, and we
will be expressed thus , ^

K.r"'*"/' (6 + a -r -")/'(/ x, is^s

and pulling z = 6 + «->:-". "ii'l proceeding, as in the lor- ^m-nn ^^^l_a(m — n + \) fx'^-"zP d x

mer case, tl.e fluxion is translormed to I ^m dx.zPzZ r-r — rr-, 7k

m±nfi+}__. J b{m+\+np)

K (z — b) ~" zPdz. and putting for the last term of equation (2) its value as

I_„Qfi±l/'+i " given by (3), we get

From ihis expression we learn that the fluent may be v I

found when —I—' -I—, or rather when f- /' "s a f^

— n 'i 9/

" d:

-p j.mH j^ an pfx'^ d x . zP-^
m+ 1 + " A

FLUXIONS.

167

129. We sliall now shew the use of these foi'iiiulfe, in
which it must be i-ecollccted that
zzna + b x".

1. Formula (A) makes the fluent of a." zl' du:, depend
on tliat oi x'"-"zt> dx, and again this last on the lluent of
j^m-2n..p d jc^ and so on; it therefore selves to diminish llie
exfionent of x out of the binomial, so as at last to hring tiie
fluent to depend on that oi x'^-^" zf rfx,i being any whole
positive number.

2. Formula (B) serves to diminish the exponent /i by
1,2, 3, Sec. units, and thus to make the fluent of a™ zf d x
depend on that of x'" zl'-' d x.

3. By resolving the equations (A), (B), so as to bring
the fluent in the second member to one side of the equa-
tion, then substituting m — n instead of m, in the first for-
mula, and fi — 1 instead of /i in the second, we find

/* X d X /• X d .<. .,■ .

/' dx /• dx .. .

— -, — 2 — i — n °i' 1 7~r, — '. irr> " " '^ even.

The two first fluents come immediately nuder Rule
11. art. 114, by putting r'- — i— 1, or l— ' — -r^ ;^ r, from
which xdxz:Zor — xdr-^zdz; the third has been as-
signed in art. 124; the fourth is the arc, of which the sine
is X.

For example, we have

/x d X

/» x^ dx Ix^ 1.2 \

7-;7(l=^=- (t + tt) ^/(^— )+-

^^^=— ^^V(l— x^) + ^ arc. (sin. =x)-fc.

(C)

J a[7n-\-\) 1.3

(D) + -5-^ arc (sin. —x')-\-c.

' dx .z''-=.-

— :r»n+'

/>+!

-f (77i-f «^+n+ \)fx'"dx.z

/"+!

J^ -- — — - an{ti+\)

These formulas serve, on the contrary, to increase the ex-
ponents of .r, out of the binomial, and in it, and are useful,
when the one or the other is negative.

4. These formulse shew the law according to which the
terms of a fluent are formed : thus, it is easy to see that
the fluent of

-—, sr will have the form

V(l— ^*}

(A,r-^-f B.r- -f C) v'(l— ^-).

By taking the fluxion of this expression, we may find the
coefficients A, B, C, by the method of indeterminate co-
efficients, with less trouble than by applying the general
formula.

130. We shall now indicate a mode of finding fluents,
remarkable on account of its simplicity, and the nume-
rous instances in which it may be applied. Taking the

fluxion of ;r''-V( I — «") we have rf \ x"-^ ,/ {\ — x-)l

-(„_1)^«-2^(1 _^3) rfx_ _^-lf^;

By multiplying and dividing the first term of this fluxion
by .^ (1 — x^) we find, after taking the fluents, and trans-
posing,

(E)

./•;

X" d X

-i^(l__x^) n—l

/*x"-^d:

i» x" d X

J^{x-z=i=l)—-

V(^'=i=l).

n — 1 /*x"-^ dx

2.4
131. However, if n were negative, formulas (E) and

(F) would no longer apply ; but, by making ^z:—, we

find,

d X — ji-' d z

X'' y/{\—x^)— ^{z^'—X) '
dx z^-^dz

Besides, we may find formulae which shall apply directly
by proceeding as in last article ; for, taking the fluxion of
,r"+'v/(I— x^), we get

/* ii. x/C-^^)

J .x" v'C 1 — -^ ^ ) (n—l )x"->-

n — 2 /»

n — \Jx"-'^

dx \

^l\—x^V

(G)

When n is an odd number, this formula makes the flu

y* d X
; ^, which, by Ex. 2. art
Xf/{\—x')

33, IS

c_l j-V('+.^0-fVCl-r)7
lv'(l+-^)— v^(l— ^)J

=-{

l-f^/(l— x^)

In like manner, we find

X'" d X x"-'

}

^{2ax—x'y

^(2ax~x^)i

(2 m — 1) a

v/(l— -r-) _n « »,' x/(l— .r")'

By treating the expression a;"~' y/ (x^ =±= 1) in the same
manner, we get

I /» x™-! dx I
-J^i2ax—x'))

(H).

0/ £x/ionential Functions.
132. It appears, from art. 26, rule (C), that

By these formulae, we may find the fluent of every function
affected by the radical .y (A + Bx -f C x^), since every
fluxion involving this quantity may be reduced at last to the

- zidz z'-dz , ^

form — 7— — ; jror — 7-2"— I — T\ (125)

By dividing the numerator and denominator by a, the
radicals in these expressions may be changed into
^/(i— '—-■-') .nd y/{x^~^~\), and then formulae (E) and
(F) make the fluent at last depend on

a^ d X ZZ-

l.(a)

Let V be any algebraic function of a*, then, because dx:

ZZ — T — -V) " we put a^~M, we have \ dxzz. r-«

a*l. (a)' ^ ' u 1. (a)'

an expression which, with regard to i:, has an algebraic
form. For example, let V^

then

w'd X d u

VC 1 +o"*)~ 1. (o) yi-f »» ■

168

FLLXIONS.

The fluent of ihis lasi expression may be fouud by the lor-
iTiula already iincstitjutcd.

Let :: be any lunclion of jr, llieii, c being the number ol
which Nap- lug- is unity, we h^^ye d (z" )=e' d r. + c"^' z dx ;
therefore,

/^•''■K-'+i^)=-"'-+"

For example, let s— -r- — 1 ; tlien-^— 3 .i''^, and

133. In other cases, we may have recourse to the me-
thod of integralin^^ Ay /;ur/s, (art. 114. Rule IV.) Thus,
let the fluxion be a;" </ .i- n-^ ; then, by the formula^ li d «—
u t Ctd !<, making uzzx" , d tz^a'^ d .r, we iind

1. (a) \.{a)J
By treating a" x^~^ d x in the same manner, and repeat-
ing this as often as is necessary, we findya-^ j;" dxzz
n x"-^ n (n — 1)3:"-^

^ 1.2.3 . . . ni

'a-'^ d X

a-^ — 1 + A.r +

2
dx

■+&C.

find /Tflff =

«/ X

A 2 2

l.(x) + Ax+iL^+

,3, .3

2.2

3.2.3

,+c.

Napicrean log. of x, and supposing t to be any algebraic
function of x.

Let 7i be a positive integer, then recurring to the fornui-
'ay'u d fzi It t — J't d II, and making it ~ 1." (a-), and (/ 1:^
zd X, so that tz^fzdx, and duzz

n l.n-i^x) — — , we have
dx

il-r

fzdxl.'>{x)=\.''fx)fzdx~nf].''-i(x) —fzdx,as

fzdx is supposed known by the principles already esta-
blished, the proposed fluent is by this formula made to de-
pend on another of the same kind, in which the exponent
of tlie logarithm is an unit less.

Thus, if z=x", we have

x"'d.t. 1." fx)zz — — ; 1." (x) — / l."-'(x) .x"'dx.

By applying the formula to this last fluent, and again to
that which results, and so on, we get

fx'"\."{x)dxZZ

f 1 " C^) nl."-(x) , 7,(n-l)l."-^(x) I

l^;r+T-(m-M)^+ (^1+1)3 -^c-|+f

rm+l .

In this series, 1.° (a), 1.' («), &c. mean the square, the cube,
&c. ofl. (a).

134. If the exponent ?! is negative, by following the same
method, we may increase the 'exponent of A-. According,
ly, from the formulayu d f^u t — Jt d «, making M~a* ,

doc
and rf f ~ — , we find

X" — {n — l).x"-' "^ 71 — 1 J x"-'
By repeating this transformation, we bring the fluent

to depend on / . This last fluent has

x" ' tl j:

long exercised the ingenuity of analysts in endeavouring to
reduce it to circular arcs or logarithms, but without suc-
cess. It appears to be a transcendental of a peculiar kind.
For want of a rigorous method, we may employ a series ;
thus, putting A for 1. (a), we have, by art. 53,

m+\ {m+^Y {m-\-\y

137. But if n is a whole negative number, we must ap-
ply the formulayw dtzZut —Jt du, so as to increase the
exponent of the logarithm. This will happen, if, in the
expression

z dx z X , . , N, „, X '^ ^

d X
we make r x — w, and 1.-" (x)- ZZd t, by which

l.-»+»_(x)_
— n + 1

ZI t, for we then have

Therefore, multiplying by — , and taking the fluents, we

y*zdx zx ^^, , .

l.-Cx) — — n-t-l'~ ^^'>

+ :^^f^-'^'i^)d{zx).

Let us suppose zzz^ ; then this formula becomes

/x^dx — x™+i 7n-f-l px'^dx

VF{xJ~ (n— l)l."-'(iy ■*" n—\J \."-^(x) '

By transforming this last fluent in the same manner, and
again the fluent that thence results, and so on, we at last

/x"'rfx
. , r-- Now, put

_1. (r) . _. 1^' dz

^.m+j— - then 1. {x)zz —~ii and x^rfar— — =--, there
fore,

x"" rf X d z

e" du

135. If n be a fraction, either of the preceding methods
will serve to reduce the exponent of x to some fraction
between 0 and -f 1 or — 1 ; and then, recourse may be had
to the method of infinite series, which we are afterwards
to explain.

Whatever has been done in regard to the fluxion of
x" d x.a' , will apply equally Xaz d x.a^' , supposing r to be
any function of x whatever.

0/ Logarithmic Functions.

136. Let it now be required to find the fluent of
zdx 1." (x), putting 1." (x) to denote the «th power of the

l.(x)— ].(z)— u

where u is put for I. (-). The fluent of this last function
can only be expressed by a series, as we have already ob-
served in art. 134.

138. When ?! is a positive or negative fraction, the flu-
ent may be made to depend upon a similar fluent, in which
7^ is between 0 and + 1 , or — 1. This last can only be ex-
pressed by an infinite series.

Of Circular Functions.

139. There are several methods of finding the fluents of
such expressions as contain trigonometrical functions.

FLUXIONS.

169

I. Method. We may make sin. or, or cos. x=^z, and then
any fluxion containing tlie sine and cosine of an arc, and its
fluxion may be transformed into an algebraic function, l-'or
example, let sin. .r— z, then

cos, x—y/{ 1—2"), da:— ^^^'_,i<^ '

n-l

sin."'.r. cos. "^ rfx~2"'rf z(l — 2") i

1. If n is an odd number, the radical in the transformed
expression disappears.

2. \i in is an odd number, then the exponent of z out of
the binomial, when increased by unity, will be a multiple of
2, its exponent in the binomial. Thus, one of the condi-
tions (the first) of art. 126, will be satisfied; and therefore
the fluxion may be made rational.

3. If m and n are even numbers, then the second condi-
tion of art, 126. will be satisfied. As an example of this
method,^ sin.^ xdx.

'.^ dz

-— — 1 cos. x(3 — COS.^:r)-|-f.

^(1-22)-

!40. II. Method. It follows, from art. 26. rule D, that

rfxcos. k ^— -r- sin. k x+c,
dx sin. k x'^i.^—- cos. X: x -f-c.

Now, we have shewn (Arithmetic of Sines) how to de-

velope the powers of sin. x and cos. x into series, the terms

of which are multiples of x ; therefore, every fluxion of the

form cos.'"x .da, or sin.^x djr, may be transformed into a

series of fluxions, of the forms c(_c cos. k x,dx sin. k x ; and

hence the fluents may be found from the preceding for-

1 5

mulse. Thus, because cos.' jr~— cos. 5 x+y-^ cos. 3 x

-f — cos. X,

(Arithmetic 0/ Sines, Formulse (S), therefore,

/• 1 . 5 . 5 .
COS.' X d x'^ — - sin. 5 x-l sin. 3 x-\ sin. x -i- c.
80 ^48 ^8

This method is often used, because it is easier to find the
sines and cosines of the multiples of an arc than the powers
of its sine and cosine. As the expression cos.^jt sin." .v,
may also be resolved into a series, ef which the terms are
the sines and cosines of the multiples of x, the fluent of
cos.'"x i'ln," X d X, may be found as in the preceding ex-
ample.

141. III. Method. The sine and cosine of an arc may be
expressed as exponential quantities, by the formula; of art.
123, and then llie fluents of any fluxions into which they
enter may be found by art. 132 — 134.

142. IV. Method. This proceeds by the formula J^Ji rf ;
~M t — • / t d u, which we have already so often employed.
Let the fluxion be dx sin.'"x cos." x, which may be consi-
dered as tlie product of d x sin. x cos. " x, and sin."»-' x ;
then, putting liZZsin.™-' x, and d t:^d x sin. x cos." x, from

which it follows, that « — —
d X cos. X sin """- x, we have

d X sill." cos." x^ —

n+\

and d u — (/« — 1)

;«+!

m—\ P
fC

n+\
cos."'''^ X sin.'"~^ xdx.

From tills expression, by putting for cos."'''- x, its value
cos." jc(l — sin. ^.r), and transposing, we find
Vol.. IX. Part I.

sin. '"~i X cos."*' X

jd X sin." X cos." xZZ —

m — I C . .

-f — ; — J dx sm."'-^ X COS." X.

m-\-n

By resolving the proposed fluxion into the two factors
dx cos. X sin."" x, and cos."-' x, and proceeding in the
same manner, we find

(K)
/*, . „ „ sin.™'*'' jr cos."-' or

I d X sin." X COS." X ~

-t — - — I d X SI

m-\-n
sin." X cos."-2 X.

One of these formulae serves to depress the exponent
of the sine, and the other that of the cosine ; and, by
their joint application, the fluent may be found when m
and n are any two positive integer numbers. For ex-
ample.

Jd X sin.^ X COS.* xzz — \ sin.^ x cos.' x

-|- I J d X sin. X cos.^ X

jdxs'm. X cos.^xZT-jsin.^ x cos. x-f -^ J'dxsin.x.
Observing, now, that J dx sin. xzz — cos. x, we find, af-
ter collecting all the terms, J" dx sin.^x cos.2.r —

•(-

■ sm. * X cos.

-TJ

Sin.

■-t\)+^-

143. But if m and n are negative, these formula require
some modification. The first gives

d X sin." X

cos.

m — n cos."'"' X
m — 1 /*d X sin.""— 2 x

■^f'

This brings the fluent to depend on that of '—■,

COS. " X

or of , accordins: as m is an odd or an even number.

cos. X °

By putting cos. ar~2, the first of these two fluxions be-

dz
comes : the fluent of tliis is obvious ; the fluent of the

other fluxion will be shewn presently.

The second of the two general formulae, by making n
negative, and bringing the fluent in the second member to
stand alone on one side of the equation, and lastly, chang-
ing n into 2 — n, gives

(M)

/dxi\x\.'"x sin,™"*^' .r ni — ?z + 2 /»</ ar sin. ^ jr

cos. " X (m — l)cos."~'j: n — 1 J cos "-^ .r

By this, the fluent sought is reduced to that of cfx sin." x,

d X sin."' or
or to '- — '-, according as n is even or odd. The second

COS. X

is found by formula (I) ; the first is presently to be no-
ticed.

144. If we make;;! or ral^O, we have
■» — cos. j: sin. "-'a- vi — . _

sin."' X d xz:z i f d X sin"-* x

m m

'S'

sin. X cos."— 'jT n — 1 /*

■ 1 / d

n n J

X cos."

/ COS. " X d x^

I* d X — cos X in — 2 a* d x

J si .." X (m — 1) sin."'-i~ ;;; — 1 J bin."'-^ x

/* d X sii..x n — 2 /• dx

cos." X (n — 1) cos."-' X n — 1 »/ cos."-*x'

170

FLUXIONS.

145. When the exponents of the sine and cosine are both
negative, wc multiply the numerator by cos.* x + sin.^
.r :^ 1, and we have

d X __ d X d X

sin.'" X cos." X sin.'"-^ .r cos." x sin.'" x cos."-^ .f '
l}y repeating this operation, we come to fractions having
only sin. x, or cos. x, in the denominator.

When7«~w, as sin. .r cos. j;-~isin. 2 .r, the denomi-
nator sin."* X cos."" X becoms^ sin." (2 x\.

146. We shall conclude this branch of the subject, by
finding the fluents of four of the more elementary circular
functions.

The first is —. ^ — - ; put cos. x— -, and it be-

%\w.x 1 — COS.^Jir

comes ■

The fluent of this expression has been

«/ cc

1— z»
given in Art. 1 19. Case I ; thence

fljL—^ fc\A.x\ fl— cos-^l yy{\—cos.x)

^ im.x -^ 1^^ ■ I. 1 -f cos.a-J ■ ^ y' (i+cos. jtJ'

And as cos. jtIT I — 2 sin.^ i ^ I^ 2 cos.^ i jr — 1 (A-

RiTHMETic of Sines, formulx (T) ; therefore, 1 — cos. x

Z:Z 2 sin.^ i X, and 1 -{- cos. xzZ2 cos.^ i x, so that

1 — cos. jc sin.'^ i a: „

■; — ; — ~ 5-T — n: tan. A X ; hence also

1 -f- cos.x cos." ix

J* dx

Jsi^x='-^''''-i^^ + '-

2. By a like process, putting cos. .rz: ::, we find

'dx r f^(l-f sin. x)

cos. a; ' i^(^\ — sin. x)'

tr ■ .1 r I 1 eOS X

If in the formula ^ tan.2 f-. x, we put i t — x

I + cos. X .71.

instead ofjr,(x being 180°), we get

1 — sin. i" „ , ^ 1

, , ■: 3: tan. - (Iw — J x)ZZ 7—, ,

1+ sin. JIT "^^ ' tan.^ (i?r + i.r)'

/* d X c •)

therefore, / 1= 1- ^ tan. (in- + Aor) C + c'.

»/ COS.JT ^ ^ ' - J ^ ^

dx, cos X

5. Let the fluxion be r — '—. In this case, the nu-

sin. X

merator is the fluxion of the denominator, therefore (Art.

1 14. Rule III.)

pd X cos. X pd X /*

7 : ^^1: ^^ / "^ cot. .r — 1. (c sin. .r).

*/ sin. X ^tan.x- ^ ^ ■'

4. In like manner,

/d X sin. -r /* , ^ Pdx ") c •>
1= / rf a: tan. .r = / = 1 . f — — i .
cos. 07 ^ t/cot.x 5 cos. X 5

0/ The Constant Correction of a Fluent.

147. Let P be the variable part of the fluent of zdx,
'z being a function of .r), and c the constant quantity which
ought to be added, in order that the fluent may be the most
general possible, we havej'r d x = P + c. While we
regard the fluent merely as a function, of which the fluxion
is to be identical with a proposed fluxion, c may be any
constant quantity whatever; but when the fluent results
from the solution of a particular problem, it generally hap-
pens, that the constant quantity c has to satisfy some con-
dition, which restricts it to a determinate value. If, for
example, it be proposed to find the area CEQP= s, (Fig.
14.) comprehended between the ordinates CE, PQ, of
which the abscissas are AE — Cj and AQzz b ; because

ds^Zyd X (art. 71.) in general,* rrTi/ f/x— P-f c. But
let us suppose, that when x becomes a, P becomes A, then,
corresponding to the particular case oi xzzza, azz. A + c.
Now in the present case, when x-zzc, tiien »:::(;; there-
fore, c is restricted to llic magnitude that makes A + rzzO,
that is, c'ZZ — A, hence * ~ P — A ; and if in this expres-
sion we put b instead of x, we have the area, or the value
of s, between the limits of x :z a, and r ^: 6.

Again, let us suppose that u and x are two variable
quantities, so related, that d u ^x" d x, then, in general,

jj-nH-l

" = — —r + c. But let us farther suppose it known, that
n+ 1 11)

(jn+l

when X := a, then 7i = k. In this case, k := 1- c,

' «+l ^ '

(jn+l

and hence c = k , and, in the question under con-

n -f- 1

sideration, it can have no other value ; therefore u =

jenn — „n+l

— — ■ h k. In this manner, we may determine the

value of the constant correction c.

Supposing a to be the value of x, when the fluent = 0,
then a is called the origin of the fluent ; and it is said to
begin when x has that value ; and to end when x has com-
pleted the change in its magnitude, so as to have passed
from X =:a to X = b. These values of x are the limits of
the fluent. When neither the origin nor the limits of a
fluent are assigned, it is said to be indefinite ; and, in order
to be com/ilete, it must contain a constant arbitrary quan-
tity. When the limits of the fluent are assigned, it is de-
finite. Thus, supposing A to be the value of the fluent
when X =a, and B its value when x = b, then B — A is
the definite fluent. As c has the same value in A and B,
it disappears from the definite fluent, which may therefore
be found by putting x'^.a, undxzzb in the indefinite
fluent, and subtracting the first result fiom the second.
All this will be illustrated by examples as we proceed.

Fluents found by Infinite Series.

148. When a fluent cannot be assigned in finite terms
by algebraic quantities, nor by circular arcs nor loga-
rithms, then recourse must be had to methods of approxi-
mation. L.eifzdx be the fluent. If we develope the
function z into a series, proceeding according to the as-
cending or descending powers of .r, and multiply the terms
by d X, and then take the fluents, their .sum will evidently
be the fluent sought. We shall now give examples.

d X

Ex. 1. Let the fluent of be required, which, we

-r-fa

know, comprehends in it 1. (a + .r), (Rule (B),

By algebraic division,

1 1

art. 26),

a-\-x'

X .r2 .r3

Therefore, multiplying by d x, and taking the fluent of
each term, we find

--f &c. + c.

Pdx .r x'^ x^ x'*

J a+x a 'ia'^ oa'-' 4a'"

In the most general expression for the fluent, c may
be any constant quantity whatever ; but regarding it as
expressing the value of 1. {x -f- o), c is restricted to a par-
ticular value. To determine this, wc know that when
xi^O, then 1. (r + a) becomes 1. (a); but when xZTO,
all the terms of the series except c vanish, therefore cz^l.
(a), and

FLUXIONS.

171

i.(^ + «)=i.(.)+f-^

3a^

as we have already found, (Art. 53.)

Ex. 2. To find the fluent of ,—;-—) we expand it by di-
vision into the series dx — x^ d a: -\- x* d x^ x'^ d x ■\-
&c. then taking the fluents of the terms, we find

/' dx
— ) — -

+ •

+ &C.+C.

As this fluxion is that of an arc, of which the tangent is
X, and radius unity, (Art. 35), by givhig a suitable value
to c, the fluent must express that arc. To determine c,
we must consider, that when the tangent ^zO, then the
arc^O ; therefore the fluent ought to vanish when .r nO ;
hence c must bei^O, and

, ^ x'^ , x^
arc (tan. ~^)~x —-\

.— +&C.

which is the series originally found by James Gregory, and
perhaps afterwards by Leibnitz. Hence the ratio of the
diameter to the circumference may be found, (see Arith-
metic of Sines, Art. 32); and the number 3.14159265 . . .
which expresses the measure of two right angles, and is
commonly indicated by the character a-.

Ex.

Let the fluent of -

ov d X (1 — x^)

—h

-J x''' X.jx"
^; I -f- -— -| — '- 1- &c. hence we have

V(l— r^)

be required. In this case, we must expand the radical
into a series by the binomial theorem, (Art. 53. or 54. See
also Algebra, Art. 323.) which will give

(1—
I* dx x^ 3.t' 3.5 ,r'

J7(r-?T3=-'; + 0+ ■2X-5+ ?xiy+ ^''- + '■

This fluxion is the same as that of an arc, of which the
sine is x, (Rule (D) Art. 26.) ; now the arc vanishes when
-tz^O, therefore, by making c :;: 0, the series will express
the arc. If we suppose the arc to be ^'^- of the circum-
ference, or 30°, then xziZ-h Therefore, observing that the
we have

arc of 30° is |

k^=i +

i +

1.3

1.3.5 , .

2.3.2-^ ' 2.4.5.25
149. John Bernoulli invented a general expression for
any fluent, which is analogous to Taylor's formula for any
function of a binomial. Let r be any function of .r, then
any fluent whatever, containing only one variable quantity,
may be represented by Cz dx : employing now the formula
^udtzzut — J t du, we have fzd xz:zz x — ("x d z

d X

«/ dx J dx^

y» ,d''z_ Pd'z
^ d^—Jdx'

Instead off x d z, la

dx=^:

d x^i i X'

'■'111
dx

'£1
dx^

.'111
dx^

dx"

&c.

and put c for the constant quantity, which serves to com-
plete the fluent, and we have

c -f z :r

dz X

d'^zx^

•+rfr^2i-^'^-

/z d X . — . ,
dx 2

This is Bernoulli's Theorem. It may be otherwise readily

deduced from Taylor's theorem. If in the developcment

we make x=0, all the terms, with the exception of the

constant quantity, vanish, therefore c is 'the value of the

fluent when x=0.

/*dx
— 1. (a + x) hv

this method: When 0:^:0, then \.(a-\-x') becomes 1.

(n), therefore c :^ 1 . (n) : And because z zz — : — , there-

d~z

' a-^x"*

dz . -. _ -

fore— ■:=.- — j — r^, -r^=: -, — 1 — 75) &c.and 1. (a+a^) — 1.
dx [a-^-xy dx~ {a-\-x) ^ ' -'

(«) +

r3 +

+ &c.

a-\-x ' 2{a-\-xY 3(a-fx)^
This series differs from that found in last arlicle, but tiic
one may be transformed into the other.

Quadrature of Curves.

ISO. Let .r=AQ, (Fig. 14.) be the abscissa of a curve,
y=PQ the ordinate, and s= the area CEQP, comprehend-
ed between the indefinite ordinate PQ, and CE an ordinate
having a given position. We have found, (art. 71.) that
d g ■=y d X, so that s = J" y dx. We are now to apply this
formula to particular examples.

Example 1. Let the curve be a parabola, (Fig. 10.) In
this case, a being put for the parameter, y"^ = a x, and

y = (z-.r ' , and d s = y d x =a x' d x, therefore, taking
the fluent, (art. 114.),

i 3.

Let us suppose the fluent to begin at the vertex A ; then,
when x=:0 we ought to have s=0. The general equation
of the fluents in this case becomes 0 := 0 -f- c, therefore
c=0; and so «=§ y x, which agrees with what was found
in Conic Sections, (Sect. VII. Prop. 1.) If* were sup-
posed to begin when x had some given value 6, we would

0 =^

'6 2+c;then(:=— fa'i '

and s = I a '

have
(x^_ 6^ )

Ex. 2. Let the curve be a circle, (Fig 9.) and suppose
the origin of the co-ordinates x = OQ and y = PQ to be
at O the centre ; put a for the radius. By the nature
of the circle 1/ = ^ (a^ — x^), therefore, y d x =z d x .^
(c^ — x^) : Apply to this fluxion the formula t" ud l = u e
- r c d u, (making y' (a^ — ^2^ _— ^^ and x = t) and we

shall have

/ d X ^(a*—x

As:ain

0=w(«^--) + /-;,-^^

x^ d X

/* d*z

8cc. substitute their values.

V (a--.-) - V {^—n -dxy(a-- x^),
as appears by bringing the quantities to a common de-
nominator ; therefore, substituting, and putting x y for
x^{a'—x-),

//» a dx
ydx-ixy^laj-^j^~^.

Now, (Art. 114, Rule V.) the fluent of— -^^ —

V (fi'2 — .r-)

is the circular arc of which the radius is a and the sine ,r,

and this arc, supposing AD a quadrant, is PD ; let it be

denoted by r, and we have

This is the complete fluent, which holds true, whatever
be its origin. Let us now suppose that the fluent begins
when x=0 ; in this case 2=0, and as then s=0, it follows
that c=0 ; hence

«(=area ODPQ)=A .r i/-f 4 a :.
Now if we join OP, the triangle POQ=i x y, therefoi-e the
sector POD=iaz.

I'2x. 3. Let the curve be an ellipse, (Fig U.) of which

172

FLUXIONS.

tlie scmitransvcrsc and scmiconjugate axis area and 6 ;
suppose the origin of the co-ordinates to be at A, one ex-
tremity of the transverse. Tlie equation of the curve is

t/2=— 5(2 a X — X*); hence

s= j y d .1 --= — / ilxy/{2 a x — x^).

If a circle be described on the transverse axis as a diame-
ter, and y' be put for /; Q, the ordinate of the circle, cor-
respondintr to the common abscissa x, and «' for the circu-
lar area AQ//, we have j/'^= V(2 a x — j:^), and

J= f y' dx= f d X ^{2 ax — x'^).

Hence, the variable parts of these two fluents have to each

other the constant ration of — to 1 , or of 6 to a, and as they

begin together, the fluents themselves must have the same
ratio, that 1% s : s' : : b : a, as was shewn in Conic Sec-
tions, (Sect. VII.)

Ex. 4. Let the curve be an equilateral hyperbola, (Fig.
25) and AX, AY its asymptotes; and let it be required
to find the area included by the hyperbolic arc CP, the
straight lines CE. PQ, which are parallel to one asymp-
tote, and EQ, the segment of the other asymptote, inter-
cepted between them. Let CE, one of the parallels, have
a given position. Put AE ^ a, EC ~ b, AQ :3 x,
QP ^: y. By the nature of the curve x yZZab, hence y ~

— , and

f^. / y dx:^a b I — ~a

b 1. (x) -f c.

By the nature of the problem, when
therefore in this case, O'ZZa b 1. (a) -)-
1. (a), and

X — a, then «^0,
c, hence c~ — a b

s ~ a b i 1 . (x) — 1 • (a) ]

If we suppose a ZZ b zz 1, then

hence

the area s is expressed by the Napiercan logarithm of the
abscissa AQ, and these areas serve as a geometrical repre-
sentation of Napier's logarithms. On this account they were
called by the early writers hyficrbolic logarithms, but im-
properly, as any logarithms whatever may be represented
by hyperbolic areas. See Logarithms.

Ex. 5. Let the hyperbolic area PAQ be required, sup-
posing PQ to be an ordinate to CA, the transverse axis
(Fig. 25.) Let C, the centre, be the origin of the co-
ordinates; put CQ = x, PQ = !/, the semitransverse axis
= a, the scmiconjugate = b. The equation of the curve

y——^{x'^~ax%

(Conic Sections, Sect. VIII.) is
hence

sZzSydx = tfdx^[x^-a^).

We may proceed with this fluent as with that in exam-
ple 2d, or else by formula (B), art 12S. which gives at
once

/rfxv/(x'_a^)=:ix-/(x^_a-^)_ia^ f--^

tJ n/ \x — c2 j
Now, by art. 123,

Therefore,

*=2-a^^"'-")'

a4
■ 2

^ X -f ^(x-_a2jC _c

Now, from the nature of the figure, when x-^a, then
« ~ Oj therefore, in this case, the general equation be-
comes 0 ~ — 1 . (a) — c ;

hence c z: 1 • (a), and

bx , 2

, ab c X y

ovs-hxy--\. J- + y

;x + v/(x'-a'');

Sector ACP:

If we join CP, it is evident that J x 1/ expresses the area
of the triangle CPQ, therefore

2 X a b I

Ex. 6. Let APD be the common cycloid, (Fig. 1 2.) of
which AB is the axis, AHB the generating circle, having
its centre on the axis AK, a perpendicular to the axis at
the vertex, and PR a perpendicular to AK from P any
point in the curve ; and let it be required to find the ex-
ternal area APR.

Let O be the centre of the generating circle ; draw PQ
perpendicular to AB, meeting the circle in H, and join
OH. Put AR=xRP = y,AO=ra, the angle AOHiTv.
Then AQ~a(l — cos.-y), QH^ a sin. T;,arc AH ^av;
and since, from the nature of the curve (see Epicycloid),
PQ = AR = arc AH + HQ, therefore

x~a (-u 4- sin. v),y^:a(l — cos. v),
dx:^adv {I -f cos. v),J'y d x^Za'^fd v (I — cos.^ v).

Now this last fluent, or J'rfx> sin.^ f, is found, by art.
144, to be ^ i COS. v sin. v. -}- iv, therefore

« ~ -— (-u — sin. V. COS. v) + c.

When x< ^ 0, then s ought to vanish, therefore c ~ 0,

SO that putting for v, sin. v and cos. v their values, we

find

« = ^ AO X arc AH — jOQxQH = circ. seg. AQH.

This agrees with what was shewn in the article Epi-
cycloid.

Ex. 7. As an example of a polar curve, let us take the
spiral of Archimedes, (Fig. 27.) Let A be the pole, AC
the position from which the revolving radius AP begins
its motion. Put AP :3 r, the angle PAC I^ v ; and let a
be a given line, and 5r:z: 3.141 59, &c. The nature of the
curve is expressed by the equation 2 7rr^.av. Now if «
denote the area AP'P, we have found (art. 72.) that in
curves expressed by a polar equation, ds^ir" dv. In

2a-
the present caserfi;" — dr, therefore
a

sZZi I'r'' dv = - fr'' drzz^ri-i-c.

If we suppose the fluent to begin when r~0, then
f — 0; therefore, when r has made a complete revolu-
tion, so that v:z:2'f, and r^a, the area generated will be

— 4 of a circle, of which a is the radius. To find

the space which r passes over in the next revolution, the
fluent must be taken between r ::: 2 3-, andzi^4a-, that
is, between r ~ a, and 7-13 2 a. Corresponding to the first

7r a^
value of r, \/c haves——:—, and to the second s zr

FLUXIONS.

173

-;;-a" ; the difference of these, which is the area reqiiir-

"1, IS — 2 — .

151. As the area ECPQ (Fig. 14.) of any plane curve
is expressed by the llnent 7' i/ rf x, in which ij (PQ) is
some function of the abscissa x (AQ), on the other hand,
every ilxient Tydx may be represented geometrically by
the area of a curve, of which .r is the abscissa, and ij the
ordinate. The geometrical representation of a fluent
shews distinctly wherein it differs from a common analytic
function, such as a + b x" , or a'*', or sin. x, &c. These
last have determinate values, corresponding to any assign-
ed value of X, and the value of each function is altogetlier
independent of its preceding or subsequent values. But
the magnitude of the quantity expressed by the fluent
fyci X is the increment that a certain function receives
while X passes from one degree of magnitude to another.

152. The analogy between a curvilincal area and a
fluent points out a general method of approximating to
the value of any fluent whatever, and to any degree of
nearness. Let the fluent Cydx be required between the
limits oi x-zza and x-^b. Let CPD (Fig. 28.) be a
curve, such, that AQ and QP, the co-ordinates which be-
gin at a given point A, may represent .r and y. In the
axis AB, take AQ — a, the least value of j:, and AQf"zz.b,
its greatest value, and draw the ordinates PQ, P"'Q"' ;
then the area PQQ"'P"' will Ije the geometrical expression
for the fluent j'ydx, between the limits of xzza, and
x'ZZb : and by whatever means that area can be found,
the same will apply to the determination of the fluent.

Let QQ'" be divided into any number of equal parts
QQS Q'Q". &c- and let the ordinates P'Q', P"Q", kc. be
drawn ; these will divide the figure into the curvilineal
trapeziums PP'Q'Q, P'P"Q"Q', &c. Let a series of rect-
angles PQ', P'Q", 8cc. be constructed, each having the
shortest of two adjoining ordinates for its height ; these
will fall entirely within the figure, supposing the curve to
be entirely concave or convex towards the axis. Let
another series P'Q, P"Q', &c. be constructed, each having
the longest of two adjoining ordinates for its height ; and
all these will extend beyond the figure. Because AQ — a,
and QQ'"— 6 — a, and the number of parts into which
QQ' is divided is known, the abscissx AQ', AQ", &c. will
be known, and from the nature of the curve, the corres-
ponding ordinates P'Q', &c. will be known. Hence we
can find the inscribed rectangles PQ', P'Q", &c. the sum
of which will be less than the curvilineal space PP"'Q"'Q ;
also the circumscribed rectangles P'Q, P"Q', &c. the sum
of which will exceed that space. Thus two limits may
be found, between which the curvilineal space or the fluent
is always contained. Besides, these limits may differ by
as small a quantity as we please, for their difference is
manifestly the rectangle PM'SR, which is contained by
PM'=:QQ', andPR = P"'Q"'_PQ, the difference of the
extreme ordinates ; and QQ' may be as small as we please.

If chords PP', P'P", &:c. be drawn, the sum of rectili-
neal trapeziums PQQ'P', Sec. will be a nearer approxima-
tion to the area or fluent, than either the circumscribing
or inscribed parallelograms. As an example of the ap-
plication of this method, let it be proposed to approxi-

P dx
mate to the fluent # , ' ,, between the limits of r. — 0 and

Let QQ'" be di\idcd into ten equal parts, then, putting
■'ZZO, .c — .1, .r:^.2, kc. to j; 3:1, we obtain eleven
equidistant ordinates ; the numeral values will be as fol-
lows ;

x=:l.

In this
1

case,

1-f j:^'
the equation of the curve CD is ;/ —

The 1st,

1.00000.

The 7lh,

.73529,

The 2d,

.99010.

The 8th,

.67114.

The 3d,

.96154.

The 9th,

.60975.

The 4th,

.91743.

The 10th,

.55249,

The 5th,

.86207.

The 11th,

.50000,

The 6th,

.80000.

l-fx2

By the elements of geometry, the area of the rectilineal
figure, formed by the trapeziums, is found by adding toge-
ther all the ordinates except the fiist and last, and half the
sum of the first and last, and multiplying the result by the
common breadth of the trapeziums, which is .1. This rule

between

\-\-x^

the proposed limits. This fluent is the arc to the tangent
X, (art. 35). We have expressed it by a series, (art. 148).
If in that series we put xn:!, the fluent, between the pre-
scribed limits, will be 1 — } -f i — ^-f &c. ; but this con-
verges too slow to be of any use. The fluent ought to be
.7854 nearly.

153. If the ordinates PQ, P'Q', Sec. go on continually in-
creasing, the inscribed rectangles will be constructed on
the 1st, 2d, 3d, Sec. ordinates, and the circumscribed pa-
rallelograms on the 2d, 3d, 4th, Sec. Observing, now, that
the ordinates are the values of the function y, correspond-
ing to AQ, AQ', Sec. values of x which differ from each
other by the common interval QQ', we have manifestly the
following rule for approximating to a fluent /*;/ rfx, be-
tween the limits of jr— a and x'^z.b.

Let the interval between a and b be divided into n equal
parts, each equal to h.

Let Y, Y', Y", . . . YW, be the values of y correspond-
ing to jr:^a, xzZa-\-h, :r— 0+2 A, Sec. to x'^Z.a-'s-n It respec-
tively, and let us suppose that Y, Y', Sec. go on continually
increasing ; then

fydx-:P'h{Y+\'-{-Y" . . . -fY("-')).
fydx.^1, (Y'-f Y"-J-Y'" . . . +Y('') ).

The difference of these is h (Yf"' — Y), which, by taking
h sufficiently small, may be as srnall as we please. We
may reason in a similar manner in the case in which
Y, Y', Y", Sec. go on continually decreasing. If Y, Y', Sec.
first increase, but afterwards decrease, the interval between
.r^a and x'^.b may be divided into two or more portions;
so that y may increase or decrease continually, from one
extremity of each to the other.

Whatever be the values of y, provided they be always
finite from o-i^a to x^zi, if Y, Y', Sec. be determined as
before, we have evidently,

fydx—\'h + \'h + \"h . . . -f-YC'-") k, nearly;
and the smaller the increment h is, the more correct will
be the approximation to the fluent; so that tiie number n
being supposed to increase continually, and consequently
/; to decrease, the expression will approach continually to
the fluent, which will be its limit.

Leibnitz, and such as have taken his view of the sub-
ject, considered the fluent fydx as the isum of the infi-
nitely little elements Y A, Y'/j, Sec. Hence the origin of
terms i7itegral, to integrate, integration. Sec. (art. 112.)
And as each was the diflerence between two infinitely near
values of the integral, regarding h as the differential of x,
it follov.'ed that y dx (the general expression for each elc-

174

FLUXIONS.

■ment) was tlic differential of the integral. This manner of
consideriiit; a fluent is extremely convenient, and on tliat
account is ii;cncraily employed in the application ol the in-
tegral or fluxional calculus to physics, and the liiijher
geometry.

154. We shall now make some general remarks relat-
ing to quadratures.

1. If an area s is contained between two curves CU,
c d, or two branches of the same curve, (Fig. 29.), let
PQ— !/, and fi QrZ!/' he their ordinatcs, corresponding to
the common abscissa AQ~j.-, then /'i/ (/azrarea CEQP,
and fy' d jrZZarca cEQ,/i i theiefore j'(tj — i/') t^ xZZ area

Cc/iP.

2. Or employing the calculus of infinitesimals, we may
regard the area CP/( cZZs as made up of an infinite num-
ber of trapezoids VP' /i' /t ; each having dx for its breadth,
and these again as made of an infinite number of rectan-
gles tn, of which the sides are d .v and dy, so that d xdy
will be an element of the second order of the area s : Then,
to obtain s, the fluxion or differential dxdy must be inte-
grated from 7/^:PQ to .;/~/' Qi and again the result be-
tween the limits x— AQ and .rzzAE, so that we arrive at
the same final result as before.

3. The entire area of a curve that returns into itself, is
found by taking the fluent of (;/ — y') dx from the least to
the greatest value of a-.

4. The ordinate y of the curve ought never to become
infinite between the limits of the area.

5. The fiuxion ydx changes its sign with y or x,
hence the area becomes negative if .t and y have contrary
signs.

6. If a curve cuts the axis of the abscissje between the
limits of the area, the paits on each side of the axis must
be found separately, because the one is positive and the
other is negative, and the fluent requires to be taken with-
out any regard to the latter sign.

For example, let KOACD be a curve of which the
equation is y~-r — x'; (Fig. 30.) the origin of the co-ordi-
nates being at A, the curve passes through A, and meets
the axis in II and K, so that AHzzAK— 1. The general
expression for the area .9 is ^x' — ix*-\-c. If we suppose
it to begin at the point E where x^AEzz^'l' then, at the
origin of the fluent, OZT^- — 3V+<^J hence rn: — ^'j, and
s'Zl\x^ — ^x* — Jg. If the area is to end at F where
a;izAFzr.yf , we shall find sZZ.0, which indicates that the
areas ECH, HDF are equal, but with opposite signs. In
fact, putting arzrl, we find that the area ECH:3^, and
taking the fluent l:r^ — k^*-\-e between the liiniis r —
AH^:1 and ,r^AF^:^|, we get the area HDFrz — ^■
In like manner, the area taken from K to H comes out
~0, because the space KOA below the axis is equal to the
space ACH above it.

155. Although it is not possible to square every curve,
yet it is possible to assign any number of curves whatever
that are perfectly quadrable, that is, which may have their
areas expressed by algebraic functions of the co-ordinates.
Let 2i denote any function whatever of the abscissa -r, then

if we assume the ordinate yzi t—, we have ydxzudu,
und PydxzZu+c. For example, let ii^ax"'^^, then
— ^(?!-f l)a J." . Hence every curve of which the co-
ordinates X and y are so related, that y — (?;-)-l)>7 t" is
quadrable in algebraic terms, and has its area — a r"*! ^c.
The case of nzz — 1, is however not included in the for-
mula.

156. As the quadrature of any curve, and the determi-
nation of a fluent y dx {y being a function of a: of a given

form) are problems convertible into one another, they are
sometimes considered as belonging to one and the same
theory. On this suliject, see Legendre, Extrcicca de Cat-
cut Integral, Part III.

Of the Rectification of Curves.

157. We have found, (art. 75.) that x and y being the
co-ordinates, and z any arc of a curve d z'^.^{d x'^-'f-d y^) ;
we shall now apply this formula to some exaniples.

Example 1. Let the curve be a parabola, (Fig. 10.)
AQiZljr, PQ— !/, the parameter —2 a. The equation of

the curve 2(2 rfa- — ?/^, gives adx^ydy, and d zz^ —

y/iy'^+a-); the fluent (art. 128, formula (B), and art. 123.;
is

z=c+fy{a^+y^) + ia\.^y + ^(a^+y')y

If the fluent begin at A, then, when «/— 0, 2^0, in this
case the general formula becomes Ozic-}- j a '■ (0)1 and

y^(y'+a')

2 a

+ i'

'}■

hence ciz — 4a 1. (a); therefore z — -

Ex. 2. Let the curve be what is called the second cubi-
cal parabola, of which the equation isi/^^a-r^. In this
case the general formula gives d :—

u' y v/ ( ' + T^ ) ; Jiencc, by art. 1 26,

-W('+H)V-

This curve is perfectly rectifiable, and is remarkable on
account of its having been the first curve that was rec-
tified. This discovery was made by Neil, and afterwards
by Van Heuraet. (Wallis' jllgebra, chap. 7". and Schoo-
ten's edit, of Des Cartcn' Geometry, end of Part I.)

Ex. 3. Let the curve be a circle (Fig. 9.) of which the
radius OA— a, then, reckoning the co-ordinates OQ^^
and QP::zy from the centre, x2-)-jr-;za* yziy/ {a- — x^'),

j^ (I TQ (I JJ7

d yZZ. — , „■ ' , and d zZZ i—n r,- We have alrea-

dy given the fluent of this expression by an infinite series,
(art. 148. Ex. 3.) in the case of the rad

rad. is a we have only to substitute

:1. When the

for z and -^ for x,
a

we thus find
a-'

;+:

--f&c.-^c.

oa- ■ 2.4.50" * 2.4.6.7
If the arc AD be a quadrant, and the fluent begin at D,
then when x'^iO, zz^O ; therefore in this case f::;:0.

We have given a different series in art. 143. Ex. 2.
for an arc, in terms of the tangent; and others maybe
found which shall express it by tiie cosine, cotangent, &c.
from the formulae of art. 35. But in no case whatever
can an arc be expressed by trigonometrical lines in finite
terms.

Ex. 4. Let the curve be an ellipse, (Fig. 3!) of which
the semi-transverse axis CA^l, the semi-conjugate CB
^c, the eccentricity, which is.^(l^c"), "zze • Let C,
the centre, be the origin of the co-ordinates CQ^r.r and
PQ— I/, and put the arc BP (reckoned from the extre-
mity of the conjugate axis) — -. By the nature of the
curve

c y—^ [\—x^), hence dyzz. ^r^-^y and

FLUXIONS.

175

2)rf.-r

y/{i-^n

The fluent of this expression cannot bo found in finite
terms, even with the help of circular arcs or logarithms;
therefore it can only be expressed by an infinite scries. By
the binomial theorem, we get v^(l — c- x^)"

! — i f2 x^ '■ — e* X* ' e* jc* — &c.

2 2.4 2.4.6

We must now multiply each term of this series by

and take the fluents, which will all be of the

vi^-^'y

form A

x^"dx

, and may be found by art. 1 30. Thus,

putting ip fur the arc whose sine is x, we get z ~ elliptic
arc BPzr

l.I „ 1.1.3 , 1.1.3.3.5

+ •

2.2 2.2.4.4

2.2.4.4.6.6

"—Sec.)

. 1.1.3

{(*''+5-!^)^('-'"'}

, , 1.3 ,

^4.6

+ ^6-^)v'('-^)}

' 2.4.6

4-&C.

This expression vanishes when .r~0, as it ought, there-
fore it wants no correction. If wc make :r~l, all the
terms containing v^(l — x^) vanish, and, as in this case <p
— ii-, we get the elliptic quadrant

=ix(l-

1.1

1.1.

1.1.3.3.5

■S— £<c.^

.2 2.2.4.4 2.2.4.4.6.6

This expression converges pretty fast when e is small ; but
when e is nearly :zz\, it is hardly of any use. To have a
complete solution, we ought to investigate another series,
suited to the case of e nearly :z.\. Our limits, however,
oblige us to refer the reader to the following works, for
farther information on this subject. Eulcr, Anhnadver-
siones in Rectijicationem Ellijiseos (in his O/iuscula), also
JVox'i Comm. Petrop. torn, xviii. p. 71. Lcgcndre, AIcin.de
I' Acad. 1786, p. 620, and Exercises de C'alc. Integ. Ivory,
Ediii. Trans. Vol. IV. Wallace, Edin. Tra?is. Vol. V.
Wood house, P/h7. Trans. 1804.

The length of a hyperbolic arc may be found exactly in
the same manner, from its equation c ijZlV(x- — 1.)

158. There is a very elegant property of elliptic arcs,
discovered by Fagnani in 1718, {Fag: Ofi. T. II. p. 317.)
which has led to considerable improvement in the fluxional
calculus. It may be easily deduced from the formula given
in art. 77, foi the rectification of a curve.

Let DE be a tangent at any point D in the ellipse (Fig.
31.) Draw CE from the centre perjiendicular to the tan-
gent, and parallel to it draw tlie semidiamclcr CH, which
will be the conjugate to that drawn from C through D : al-
so, draw II K perpendicular to the axis. As in Example
4, let CAnzl. CBiZr, the eccentricity zZic, and further, put
CE=y(, DE = ;, the angle ACE=CIIK = <J>, and the ellip-
tic arc AD=2'.

Because HK2r:c^(l—CK2) and IIKzrCIIx cos. <a, also
CKzrCIIx sin. <p, therefore CH^ X cos. '<p — r- (1 — CII"
X sin.2(a), and hence

£.2

CH^rr -vr~. , and putting 1 — sin.'^ for cos. 2^,

cos.2ip-l-c''sni2^ 1 & f r:

and e' for 1 — c^ in the denominator,

And since by a property of the curve, (Conic Sections,
Sect. II. Prop. 20.) CII x CE— AC xC B —f, therefore,
€£=•/; =^(l—e^ sin.-^).
And since in every curve expressed by an equation of
this kind, (art. 77.) d(z'+t) =zfidip, therefore

d{z'+t)~d<p^{\—e''%\n.'(p). (1.)

Let PQ be any oi-dinate to the axis, then, putting CQ—
X, and the arc BP~:, we have found (Ex. 4. last art.) that
x ^(1— fV-)

' ^{\~e~i.\n."<p)'

J. . Let us now suppose .r=sin. ^,
vC — ^ )

then it follows that d x = d ip zo%.(p = d ^ -^/I^X — x'^) ; wc
have also 1 — e'X^ = \ — f^ siu.'i? ; therefore,

(/ -= d ips/i} — e^ sin.2<j). (2.)

From formulse (1.) and (2.) it immediately follows that

d{z'-\-t) = dz, and r'+<=z-fc.
When ip=0, and consequently sin. ^= :i7=0, then 2', f, and
z all vanish, therefore c must be =0, and we have

r'-f t = z, (3)

that is, arc AD-f Ian. DE= arc BP.

This is in substance Fagnani's theorem. It may be ex-
pressed in words at length, thus: Let ADB 6e an ellifitic
(juadrant, draiu DE a tangent to the curi'c at any fioint D,
and CE a fitrjiendiculur from the centre C to the tangent :
As radius to the sine of the angle ACE, so make AC to CQ,
and draii) the ordinate PQ ; the arc AD (reckoned from the
extremity of the transverse.) together ivilh the tangent DE,
is equal to the arc BP {reckoned from the extremity of the
conjugate axis.) Hence it appears, that any arc of an el-
lipse being given, another arc may be assigned geometri-
cally, such, that their difl'erence shall be equal to a certain
assignable straight line ; a circumstance which has been
considered as remarkable.

There is a corresponding theorem in the hyfierbola, but
it would extend our treatise too much to discuss this sub-
ject at greater length. On this subject, consult Fagnani,
Prodiizi07ii Matliematiche ; Euler, Mov. Comm. Pet. T. vi.
vii. xii. ; Act. Acad. Pet. 177S, Pars. ii. ; Inst. Cal. Integ.
T. i. and iii.; Lagrange, Miscell. Tour. T. iv. ; and Theorie
des Fonct. Anal. 2d edit. Legendre, Exer. de Cal. Integ.
and Mem. de I'Acad. 1786. Landen, Mathematical Memoirs,
vol. i. ; Lacroix, Traitc du Cal. Diff. et Integ. vol. ii. Also,
Wallace, Edin. Trans, vol. v. ; Brinkley, Irish Trans. ;
Woodhouse, Z-o?zc?. Trans.; Ivory, m Leybourn's Mathe-
matical Re jiository. Part ii. p. 9.

Ex. 5. If we employ the same construction and tlie same
notation in the hyperbola, (Fig. 32.) as in the ellipse ; that
is, ifDE be a tangent at D, and CE a perpendicular from
the centre on the tangent, and if we put CA=1, the eccen-
tricity =e, the hyperbolic arc AD = r, the angle ACE=0>,
the perpendicular CE=/;,the tangent DE=«, we shall find
exactly as in the elliiisc, that p-=^(\ — c'sin.'^S), and
(art. 77)

f/(r— ?— </4'n/(1— f^ sin.-^a) (3)

In the ellipse e is less than unity, but here e is greater
than 1 ; and this circumstance makes an essential difference
in tlie two i^uxions : the one form is, however, reducible
to the other, as v.'as first shewn by Landen in Lond. Phil.
Trans. 1775. In either case, the fluent may be found by
developing \/l 1 — e- i'm.^ip) into a scries, then multiplying
each term by d<p, and taking the fluents.

Ex. 6. Again, in the parabola (Fig. 23.) let F he the fo-
cus, A the vertex, PE a tangent at P, and FE a perpendi-
cular to the tangent ; put the parameter ^za, tlie angle AFE
—<p, the perpendicular FE=r/;, the tan. PE = /,tlie arc P.\
=:; we have found (art. 89. Ex. 1.) that in the parabola

176

FLUXIONS.

/'=•

-, hence d{z — f)~-

adcp

, and, by art. 146.

' 4 cos <p' ^ '4 cos.^

^_,= ^/ll^==^,.jtan.(U-H^)|
4t/ COS. ^ 4 (. J

This lluent wants no constiiiU (|iiaiitity,hccause when ^~0,

both sides vanish, as they oujjht.

F'l-om this expression we might assign parabolic arcs,
which should be to each other in the given ratio of one
number to another, which was first done by John Bernoulli
in 1698, (Job. Ber. Oji. T. ii. p. 243.) See also L'Hopital,
Sect. Coniijues, page 382. This property of the parabola
has some relation to I'agnani's theorems, for the ellipse and
hyperbola.

Ex. 7. Let the curve be a cycloid of any kind, (Fig. 33,)
of which DC is the axis, DHC a circle described on the
axis, of which the radius —1, PG an ordinate to the axis,
whicli meets the circle in H. Put DG— j:, GP~!/, circ.
arc. DH~-y, cycloidal DP — z. By the nature of the
curve (Epicycloid) .r Z2 1 — cos. v, yZZ.n-v -^ sin. v,
where 7i is a given number, which in tiic common cycloid
is unity. Hence d x:^d v sin. v, d ij^d v {n -{- cos. v)
and

dzZZt/ (rfx^ + dj/^)=rf-vy'(l+n-+2n cos. v).
Instead of cos x), put 1 — 2 sni.^iv, and put e for

0T^)~' ''"'' '""^ ''^' •"

ZZZ (I +n)/rfT^/(l — e^sin." Jx-).

This fluent may evidently be expressed by an arc of an
ellipse, also by the diflerence of an elliptic arc, and its
tangent, (formulae (1.) (2.) art. 158.)

Ex. 8. Let the curve be the spiral of Archimedes,
(Fig. 27.) In which AP zz r, the angle CAP ZZ -u, the arc
APZZ-; the equation of the curve is ''^■xrzz.aii^ where
a denotes a given line. In this case we apply the gene-
ral formuladzn ^J ij' dv'^ -f rfr'), (art. 76.) and as dv"^,

— d r, we find

-¥/'"^(^+4

If this expression be compared with that for a parabolic

arc, (Ex. 1. art. 157.) it will appear that these curves

are equal, when r is the ordinate of the parabola, and

a
— the parameter.

159. The early writers on fluxions endeavoured, as
much as possible, to find simple geometrical representa-
tions of such fluents as could not be expressed by finite
algebraic functions. They succeeded in representing such
as involved the radical V (a -f A x -f c x^), which can
always be made rational, by circular and hyperbolic areas ;
when the fluxion contained a radical of the form v^ (o-h^ ^
-f c.r^ -f f/ jr*), in some cases they could express the
fluent by elliptic and hyperbolic arcs, and in others by the
surface of an oblique cone. Maclaurin was the first that
treated at any length of this mode of expressing fluents, in
his Flusiions, Book ii. chap. 3. and the subject was ex-
tended by U'Alenibcrt, j17cm. de Berlin, 1746 and 1748.
Landen, in his Memoirs and Lticubrations, has arranged,
in Tables, the various fluents that may be found in this
manner. Lagrange and Lcgendre have since treated the
subject in a manner purely analytical, and this last mathe-
matician, in his Mlemoire sur les Transccndantes clUlHi-
ijues, and more recently in Ejcer. de Cat. In. has reduced
all fluxions, in which the only radical is .y (a -}- 6 or -f c x^
•^ d x'^) to three species; and he has shewn how the
fluents may be expressed, by series which shall always
converge rapidly.

160. As any number of curves may be found that are
quadruble, so also curves may be found that arc reclijiablc.
We shall now resolve this.

Problem. To find algebraic curves which may be recti-
fied, or which may have their lengths expressed by alge-
braic functions of the co-ordinates.

Solution. Let CPD (Fig. 34.) be a curve such as is to
be found, and let AQ, QP be the coordinates at P, any
point in the curve. Draw the tangent PE, and from A
draw AE perpendicular to the tangent. Put AQz^ x,
QP^y, the arc CP:3 2, the perpendicular AE^/i, the
tangent PE :^ t, the angle E AB ^: u. By formula (4), art.
77, we have in every curve whatt-ver,

d zZZfi d u +

and z^ ffidu+ - — .
•' d u

As i is to be an algebraic quantity, we must havej"/! d u

an algebraic quantity ; let us suppose it^U, some func-

dU
tion of u ; then/: rfuZT^i U, and/i^-j — : Thus the rela-
tion of /J to the angle u is determined.

From E and P draw E m, P ?j, perpendiculars to the co-
ordinates ; then observing that PE n iz E AB ^ u, we
have E m— EA x sin. u zzfi sin. u, AmzzE-A x cos. u ~
p COS. «, E n — EP X cos u^Z t COS. u, P n ~ EP x sin. u
Z^ t sin. u ; therefore, xZIZfi cos. u -i- t sin. u, y ^/i sin. u
— t cos. M. But we found (formula (A), art. 77) that

d/' , r d^U ,

f IZ — -7-, therefore / = — , ^ > ^"^

du'

rfU

du
d^U
du^

d u

d\J . ^

•' du du^

d u

sm. u.

COS. u,

(2)
(3)

These equations give a complete solution of the pro-
blem ; for by the first and second we may eliminate u, and
obtain an equation involving x and y only. We can also

determine U and - — j- in terms of x and y, and thence the
du^ ^'

values of z. For example, let us assume U:r4 a sin.

dU d^U

iu -\- c, then -; — ^2 o cos. i u, - — 5-— — asin. ju; hence

X ^ 2 a cos. I u COS. u -\- a sin. J u sin, u,
5/ ~ 2 a cos. A 7i sin. u — a sin. ^ u cos. u,
z IZ 3 a sin. i u -\- c.
By adding the squares of the values of jr and y, and put-
ting 1 for cos." u -+- sin.2 w, we find
x^ -f y^ZZ a'' (4 cos.' i u -f sin.2 i !/) ZZ o* (1 +3 cos.^ ^u),

and

+ y'—a'

: COS. i u.

And by substituting 2 sin. i u cos. J u for sin. Mj and cos.-

i M — sin." ^ u for cos. u, in the value of x, we get

X 3 ,

— ZZcos.^ Aw.

2a '■

From these two last equations we readily find

27a*.r^=4(jr= + ^,2 _q2)3

for the equation of the curve, which appears to be a line
of the 6th order: And as z = 3 a sin. A u -}- c, therefore,
by comparing its value with that of j^, it may be express-
ed by X. The truth of these conclusions may easily be
verified by putting i?i=: ^ ?«, and observing that x :^ | a
cos. ^ -f I (z cos. 3 <^, V = I a sin. <p -\-\a sin. 3 ^, z ~ 3 c
sin. <f> -\- <:■

FLUXIONS.

17;

Huygens resolved this problem by his theory of evolutc
curves (Horologium Oscitlatorium, Pars III.) and Newton
gave a solution upon principles deduced from the same
theory, {Method of Fluxions, Prob. 10.) It also engaged
the attention of F-uler, {J^Tov. Comm. Acad. Petrofi. T. v.) ;
and Lagrange has given a solution, upon principles purely
analytical, in his Calcul. des Foriclions Legon, 19. The
solution given here agrees with his in the result, but it has
been obtained in a different manner.

Of the Content of Solids,

161. Let A — PE/i (Fig. 19.) be any solid formed by
the revolution of a plane curve about its axis AB, then if
AQ::z -r, and PQ — y, be the co-ordinates of P, any point
in the curve, and s the content of the solid, it follows, from
art. 79. that

s'^.'nr Py- d x.
We shall now apply this formula to some examples.

Example 1. Let the generating curve be a parabola,
which revolves about its axis. By the nature of the curve,
7/^ ~ a X, therefore in this case

s— '^fa xdxz::~l 'X- ax^ + c Z: -| ir j/^ j; + c.
If we suppose the fluent to begin when xzzO, then c ~ 0 ;
and as try" expresses the area of the base, it appears that
the content of a paraboloid is Ivalf a cylinder of the same
base and altitude.

Ex. 2. Suppose the solid to be a parabolic spindle
(Fig. 35.), which is generated by the revolution of a para-
bolic arc ADB about AC, an ordinate to the axis. From
P, any point in the revolving curve, draw PQ perpendi-
cular to the ordinate AC, and PR perpendicular to the
axis of the parabola; put DC— /i,ACziy, CQzzPIl
::^x, PQzzCR — !/. By the nature of the curve, PR" :
AC- : : DR : DC (Conic Sections, Sect. IV. Prop. 13.),
that is, x^ : q^ : : fl — y '■ /i, hence p x-'Zlit q'' — l" yi
£ind

In the same manner we may fuid the coiitent of a hypcr-
boloid.

iri2. If the solid APE (Fig. 19.) is not formed by tlic
revolution of a curve about a hxed axis ; yet, if it can be
referred to an axis AB, so that PE/;, any section of the
solid by a plane perpendicular to that axis, is some known
function of AQ ~ a-, the segment of t!ie axis between tlic
plane and a given point A, its content may be found fiom
the very same formula. For it may be proved exactly, as;
in art. 79, that a ratio of equality is tlie limit of the ratio
of the increment of the solid to a cylinder, whose base is,
a section of the solid, and altitude the increment of the
axis ; so that if s denote the solid, and X denote the area

X- +X''),

and.='-^/(y*rfx-2y=

x"- dx +.r*i/a.-),
and taking the fluents of the several terms,

S-^'—{q^X-lr

x"- +

') + c.

of the section PE/z, we have limit —

If the fluent commence when a-~0, thenclirO: And
making x z: y, we get-j^^/j- q ti- for half the content of the
solid generated by the curve ADB.

Ex. 3. Let the solid be a spheroid APB, (Fig. 36.) pro-
duced by the revolution of an ellipse about AB, either of
the axes. Put the fixed axis ABi^a, the revolving axis
DE zi b, also AQ zz x, QP 3: y. From the nature of the

ellipse, I/' ~ — (a X — x^^, hence

b" n „ rr b" ,

s=: T— j (ax—.r-)rfx=— ^(ia.T2_J

^) + -

-=X,and4^'=X.
incr. X dx

and s^J''ii. d X.

Ex. 1. Let P'E' Ji' (Fig. 37.) be any plane figure what-
ever, and A a given point out of its plane : It is requirerl
to find the content of the conical solid formed by a straight
line, which, passing through A, is carried round in the cir-
cumference of the figure P'E'/i'-

Let AQB, a perpendicular to the base of the solid,
meet PE/;, a section parallel to the base in Q. Put the
area of the basez^i, the perpendicular A B— /(, and
let X and X denote as above. The section of any cone
whatever, by a plane parallel to its base, being always
similar to the base, we have /i- : x" : : b : X, hence X ~
b

If the fluent begin when x~0, then c^zO. By making
x^a, we get ^- n- 6* a for the content of the whole sphe-
roid ; and supposing a^ b, we have ^ va'^ for the content
of a sphere, whoso diameter is a ; and as i »• 6- is the area
of a section of the sphere or spheroid through the centre,
it appears that the whole solid is § of the circumscribing
cylinder ; which is the well-known theorem of Archi-
medes.

Vol. IX, Part. I.

and

bx^

!~ /*X d xziz —T fx- d XZZ.^—
•J li-'' 3/1

Here no correction is wanted, because when x — 0, then

b x^
s ZIO ; and putting X instead of-— , we have s ~^X a:,

butXx is llie content of a cylinder whose base is X, and
altitude x ; therefore every solitl of this kind is one-third
of a cylinder of the same base and altitude. This rule
applies to cones and pyramids, whose bases are any figures
whatever.

Ex. 2. Let the solid be what is called a Groin (Fig. 38.),
which is generated by a variable square c e fg moving
parallel to itbclf, the section DAH, through the middle of
the opposite sides, being a semicircle. Draw AB per-
pendicular to the plane of the base, put AB ZZfh AQ — .:«',
PQ — ;/; then y'ZH-lix — x" by the nature 01 the cir-
cle, butl!/- is the area of the section c c/g- — X, hence

4 x^
s —fx. dx =/(S /ixdx — ix^ dx) =: 4/z x^ -~.

Here no correction is wanted, because if xzzo, then
slIZO. When xz=.li, then sz:|/i-', the content of the
whole solid.

Of the Surfaces of Solids.

163. In Fig. 20, let AB be the axis of a solid of re-
volution, and' AP the generating curve; put AQrzx,
PQ Z= jy, the arc AP ZT r, and the surface generated by
the curve APrzi-f. Tiie general formula is in this case
(iirt. 80.)

V = 2 ^/y a/ (rf x^- -f d y-) = 2 x/i/ d z.

We shall now apply this to some examples.

Ex.\Mri.E 1. Let the solid be a sphere, of which the
axis is AB (Fig. 36.), and let it be required to find the
surface of the segment, cut off by a plane PE/i per-
pendicular to the axis. Put the radius of the sphere
=Za, AQtiic height of the segment — .v; the radius of

178

FLUXIONS.

its base PQrry; by the nature of the figure, v*~2ax — x^,
hence ydyzz.{a — x)d x, and d y ~ ^

-x) d X

and d x"^

•Ydyi-ZZ-

+ {a-xr

dx^ZZ.

a^ dx^

^ ) ~ 2 !T a rf X,

hence, rf f :=: 2 vy^ {dx^ + dy-
and X' — '^ T a -i^.
Here no correction is wanted, because we have supposed
that when xzzo, then sZZO. Since 2 it a is the circum-
ference of a great circle ot the sphere, it appears, that the
curve surface of any segment of a sphere is equal to a
jnectangle contained by the height of the segment, and a
.straight line equal to the circumference of a great circle
®f the sphere. From which it appears, that the whole
surface of the sphere is four times the area of one of its
great circles. Both of these conclusions were found by
Archimedes.

Ex. 2. Suppose the curve AP to be a parabola (Fig. 19.),
then putlmg AQrrx, PQzry, the parameter of the axis
— 2 a, we have found (art. 157. Ex. 2.) that V {dx^+dy^)

=^ — dy^{y^

+ o"), hence

2 T

dsZZ^Tfy y/^dx"" +dy^)=.^—ydy,/(y'^ + a-)
and taking the fluent (art. 122.),

If we suppose the fluent to begin when
cause y is also ZZ 0, we have 0 ;z | "■ a^
— ^ !ra^,and the adjusted fluent is

X — 0, then, be-
+ c i hence c n:

1—2 7r 5

(y2 + a2)3_a3

164. We have observed (art. 107 — 110), that the inde-
finitely small increments of quantities may often, on the
grounds of convenience, be taken as their fluxions ; and,
indeed, this is in effect the same thing as to seek the
limit of the ratio of the finite increments, and then to con-
sider it as the ratio of the fluxions. We shall now give
two examples of this application of the infinitesimals.

Example 1. Let it be required to find the surface of an
oblique cone, (Fig. 39.)

Let C be tlie centre of the base, V the vertex, VA the
perpendicular from the vertex, meeting the base in A ;
join CA, meeting the circumference of the base in H ;
take B any point in the circumference of the base ; draw
the tangent BD, meeting CA produced in E; draw VD
perpendicular to BE, and join CB, BA, DA, VE. The
triangles VDE, VAE, are right-angled at D and A ;
therefore VE^ — EA^' = VD^ — DA= ; hence AE= —
AD^ ^VE^ — VD^^^DE^; therefore AD is perpendi-
cular to EB, and consequently parallel to CB.

Let us suppose the radius of the base to be 1 ; put a
for CA the distance of the perpendicular from the cen-
tre ; fi for VA the altitude; and <p for the variable arc HB.
The triangles ECB, EAD, are similar; hence EC : CB : :
EA : AD ; that is, sec. <p : \ : : sect. 0 — a : AD iz

sec. ^ — a

^1 — a COS. ^, therefore,

sect. If)

DV::=^ ]fi^ + (1— acos

f)']

Take a point b indefinitely near to B in the circum-
ference of the base of the cone, and join C 6, V b ; the
smali arc B 6 may be considered as coinciding with its
tangent. We are now to consider the indefinitely little

arc B 6 as the fluxion of BH ~ ^, and the triangle VB 6
as the fluxion of the conical surface which the line VB has
passed over, while it moved from the position H along the
arc II B. We liave tlierefore B A ~ d ^ ; and, as the area
of the triangle VB A is i B 6 x VD, if we puts for the sur-
face of the cone, we have

da = ^d<p^S/i^+(l~-a cos. «>)* I .

This is the expression for the fluxion of any conical
surface whatever, having a circle for its base. The de-
termination of the fluent has long exercised the ingenuity
of mathematicians ; and we observe, that Legendre has at
last succeeded in expressing the whole surface of the cone
(that is, thefluent between the limits of ^zr 0, and ^ — 2 *)
by elliptic arcs, (Exercises de Cal. InCeg. p. 173). But the
indefinite fluent, or the expression for the surface corres-
ponding to p any arc whatever, has not been assigned by
the areas or arcs of the conic sections, except for particular
values of fi and Ji.

If we make cos. ^ — x, then d^^: y- 5^,

■ d X

yj/'^+(l-ax)^^

andd«— ^ ,, ..

2^/(l■~x^)

The fluent may now be found by A series, as in Ex. 4.
of art. 157. Or a sufficiently near approximation to the
fluent may be found by art. 152. If we suppose o^O, we
have the case of a right cone : in this case, rf « — i rf ^ ^
(I +/i^)) and sZZb<PV{^ + fi^)^ t'lat is> the surface is
half the product of the arc <p, and the slant side of the cone.

Ex. 2. Suppose a circle to be described upon any radius
of the base of a hemisphere, and upon this circle an up-
right cylinder to be raised, and prolonged to pierce the
hemisphere ; it is required to find the surface of the oval
hole made in the spherical vault.

In Fig. 40. let BFA be the base of the hemisphere,
(which we may suppose to be horizontal), and CA its
radius, which is also the diameter of CEA, the base of the
cylinder ; let DQA be a great circle of the sphere, the
plane of which passes through the axis of the cylinder.
This ciicle will divide the oval curve, which is the common
section of the surfaces of the sphere and cylinder, and also
that part of the surface of the sphere which is bounded by
it into two equal and like parts, one of which is DPAQD.

Take P any point in the curve DPA, and conceive a
plane to pass along DC the axis of the sphere, and through
P, meeting the surface of the sphere in the quadrant DPF,
its base in CF, and the curved surface of the cylinder in
the straight line PE. Let CF meet the circumference of
the base of the cylinder in E, join AE, and CP.

The right angled triangles CEP, CEA have the sides-
CP, CA, opposite to the right angle in each, equal, and
the side CE common to both ; therefore the triangles are
equal, and the angle ECP is equal to the angle EGA,
hence the arc FP is equal to the arc FA.

About D as a pole describe the small circle PQ to pass
through P, and suppose another small circle /i g to be
described indefinitely near to the former. We may con-
sider the surface contained between APD and AQD as
made up of an infinite number of spaces, such as P/^9' Q,
the common breadth of which is tlie small arc Q g. Put
(I for the radius of the sphere, anti <? for the angle ACF or
FCP ; then the arcs AF, FP, and AQ will each be equal
to a ^, and Q g will represent a d ^, the fluxion of the arc
AQ ; and because the radius of the small circle PQ is a
COS. <p, we have a : a cos. f> : -.atp (— arc AF) : PQ, hence
PQ = « ?> cos. ^, and the area PQ g p, (— arc PQ X arc

FLUXIONS.

179

Q 9)~a^^ COS. ^rf^ ; therefore the sum of all the areas,
thai IS, fa^ ^eos (fidip will be the spherical surface APQ,
(art. 153.) This fluent is a^ ((5 sin. (p + cos. ^) + c ; but
when <PZZ.0, then the area APQZTO, hence c ^: — a^,
and the trilateral area APQ is equal to a^ {(p sin. <p + cos.
^ — 1). This expression, when ^~ a quadrant (~ i x),
givesi a^ ?r — a^ for the whole area contained between
APD and AQD, that is, for half the area of the oval hole
in the spherical vault.

165. In the year 1692, Viviani, one of Galileo's disciples,
proposed a geometrical enigma, which depended on the
solution of the preceding problem: There is, said he,
among the ancient monuments of Greece, a temple con-
secrated to Geometry ; its form is circular, and it is cover-
ed by a spherical dome, having four equal windows, which
are constructed with such art, that the remainder of the
dome is absolutely quadrable : addressing himself to the
analysts of that period, he requested them to say, how this
might be done, adding, that he doubted not but that their
secret art (the new calculus) would soon put them in pos-
session of his enigma. It was not long before the mean-
ing of this enigma was discovered ; Leibnitz and Bernoulli
resolved the problem the day they received it. {Act. Lift.
V. iii. p. 92.) In France, L'Hopital gave a solution, and so
also did our countrymen Wallis and David Gregory ; but
it did not reach England until the year following that in
which it was proposed.

Viviani's own solution was to this effect. On a ver-
tical plane ACB passing through the centre of the sphere
(Fig. 41.) describe two semicircles AHC, CKB, so that
their diameters may be radii of the sphere, and may be in
the same straight line ; then, semicylinders which stand on
these as bases will, when produced both ways, pierce the
dome, and form four openings, which may serve as the
windows of tiie temple. For, if the radius of the dome be
a, it appears by the preceding problem, that the spherical
surface of each window will be i a* !»■ — a^ ; and their sum
2a^ «• — 4 a^ ; now, the whole spherical surface of the
dome is 2 a^ :r ; therefore the remainder is 4 a^, a space
perfectly quadrable, for it is the square in the diameter of
the base.

Viviani published his solution, but without a demon-
stration, along with other matters relating to geometry, in
1692. There are various other curious geometrical theo-
rems connected with the Florentine Problem, as it is called.
Set Bossut, Traites de Cat. Diff vol. ii. Ivory, in Ley-
bourne's Math. Repository, vol. i. Part 2d. Euler, Cal. Integ.
vol. iv. Supp. 6.

Rect}Jicati07i of Curves of Double Curvature.

166. The nature of a line of double curvature has been
explained in Curve Lines, (Art. 51). Let CPD be a
curve of this kind, (Fig. 42.) referred to three co-ordinate
planes YAX, ZAX.ZAY. From every point in the curve
let perpendiculars PP', kc. be drawn to the plane YAX ;
these will all be in the surface of a cylinder, that intersects
the plane in a curve C'P'D', which will be the projection of
the proposed curve.

Again, from P' draw P'Q', P'R' perpendicular to AX,
AY. Put AQ', oi P'R', •=.x; AR', or P'Q',= y ; PP' = 2 ;
the arc CP~-u ; its projection C'P'^i-u'. Then dv'zz^
{dx'^ -j- d y^) (Art. 75). Now, if we suppose the cylindnc
surface CC D'D to be extended upon a plane, the curve
CPD will be changed into a common plane curve, and its
projection C'P'D into a straight line, each of the same
length as before. We may then consider v' and z as co-
■ordinates of the curve v, and so we shall have dv^^

((/•w'2 -f- rfz'^); therefore, by substituting fordt;'* its value
d x"^ ■{■ dy'^, we find

d-v=.^{dx'^ ^dy'^ 4-rf2*).
This is a general formula for the rectification of any line
of double curvature. By means of the two equations
which express the nature of the line, we can express dy
and rf : by means of a: and dx, and then the fluxion of the
curve will contain only a single variable quantity, and the
fluent may be found by the common rules.

Of Fluxional Mquations of the first Order containing two
Variable Quantities.

167. In the direct method of fluxions, (Art. 47 — 50.) wc
have shewn how to pass from any proposed firimitive
equation to its fluxional equation of any order. We are
now come to the first case of the reverse problem, which
is, to find the primitive equation belonging to a fluxional
equation of the first order, containing two indeterminate
quantities.

168. It has been shewn, (Art. 49), that, in deducing
from a primitive equation its fluxional equation of the first
order, we can always exterminate any one of the constant
quantities contained in the primitive equation ; therefore,
that this last may have the most general form possible, it
ought always to contain a constant but arbitrary quantity,
that does not appear in the fluxional equation.

169. Every fluxional equation, which involves only the
simple powers of d x and d y, has this form, M.d x -\- N d i/
ZZ.^, M and N being supposed functions of any two vari-
able quantities x and y ; and it expresses a certain relation
between the variable quantity x, its function y, and the

The method which analysts

first thought of employing, to discover the primitive equa-
tion, was to separate the variable quantities, so as to give
it, if possible, the form Xd.r-j- Ydi/~0, X being a func-
tion of X alone, and Y a function of y alone. The primitive
equation was then /"Xdi- +J'\dy:^c, and here c is
some constant quantity.

For example, let the fluxional equation be
my d X •^- n X dy^.0;
divide the terms by x y, and it become

fluxional co-efficient -^.
dx

m d :

+ ^^ = 0.

X y

Hence, taking the fluents of the terms, we find

m I. {x)+n\. (</) = !. (c),or l.(-r'») -f I. (!/")=!. (c) ;
and passing from logarithms to numbers,

xfiy" ^: c ;
and this is the primitive equation.

170. The variable quantities may always be separa-
ted, when the fluxional equation is homogeneous. In
this case, the equation M d or -j- N d i/ — 0 has the form
(A t/* ;<:'■ + B I/*-" x*-'" -f &c.) dx + {Di/*Px '-f

-f- &c.) dy::zO,
the sum of the exponents in each term being h -f k. Put
mZZh +k, then, dividing all the terms by x'", any term

as A V* x'' becomes A f— 1 , thus M and N become func-
tions of — ; so that if we divide the equation M d :r -{.

N
N d !/ :z 0 by M, and the fraction ^tj- by :r", and put j/izx 2,

this fraction will be a function of r alone. Let Z be that
function, then the equation becomes dy ■{- Z, d x z:^0 ; but

yZZ.x z gives d y = x d z + Z d x,
(s -f Z) d :£• — 0, and hence

Z 2

therefore, x d z +

180 FLUXIONS.

^- , 't- —0 „„j lop „ , /!jl£__ c '" ^''''''^'' ^ ^"'^ Q ^""^ functions of a- atone. TJiis equu

.c"*'z+^ ~ ' ^' V. + Z ~ ■ lion has been called linear, but with more propriety, a

livide bv a ^+ A ^, and x>l( z r instead of i, and^he °'^° ;. ..^^^ "^"'^^ '■'-'-' ' ''5' 'h.s substitution the equa-

Divide by a ^ + b y, and put z x instead of y, and the ^-^^^ becomes

equation becomes , . , . , „ . ^

' /+S-Z zdt+tdz-\.Vztdx—q,dx;

'' ^ + J+TF ''^ =^ ° > as we may make any assumption we jjlease respecting one

.,,rj . ,,j j.i ..of t'lc indeterminate quantities z, ?, we may suppose that

instead o^ dy put now zdx-^rxdz, and tlic equation is the co-eflicient of z is = 0 ; by this we tret

transformed to ' *"

, ,, ,, dt + Vtdx — 0,tdz — Qldx.

dx {a + bz)dz _ ^ ^^

-■ 6 z2 + (a + i')z +/ ■ The first equation gives y = — P rf x, and hence 1 . {t)

— h 2 , r, — r—r— 0. This is easily transformed to -"+« -u a _„

-*+-' = +l :r:ff,:iAe; here e is the number of which

_^ ° ~ ^^ — 0 Nap. log.:i: 1, and A is put for the constant quantity e' .

X 1 + z (I + z)* ' We now substitute this value of t in the equation tdzzz

and hence, taking the fluents, Q a :c, and we have A r/ z = Q / </ a, and hence
l.(car)+ 1.(1 4--) + __ = 0. Az — fQie'^dx + c.

r J 1 Now Q and u are known functions of x, and the fluent

ovl. 5 c (x + j.-z)C =_——, and putting V for a- z, „_".,. . , ^ r » % , Ay

C J ' + " TQe rf.r beinp found, we put for A z its value — -.

TQe rf.r being found, we put for A z its value — ^,or

^ X

•i^ + y)y+ ;j-p^ = 0. y /j and at last we find

Ex.2. Let«2/"rft/+(^"+Ay™),/x=0; hence we ,_/<."= T Q e"rf.r + c, where :.= TP rfx.

1 + 6 z" rfr a-"' I- From this expression we may inter that it was not neces-

d y -^ -^ d x-zzzo, and-^H ~ ~0. sary to add the constant quantity n to the fluent f'Pdx^iu,

' as it has disappeared again in the subsequent part ol the

Here the variable quantities being separated, the fluents calculus,

may be found as usual. ^ , , . ,

Ex.3.Let..,-,..=..^(.^+,;);.edivideby J:^^^^^^:'^^yi^ ' ^ = '' "^ '^^^

..,and have.,-^..=..V (l +|,) : And making j-^^',,^ n ^ ^. ,^a x=a e\x^ -Z . ^ + 6 . - 6),

yZZx z, so that d i/zzz d x-{-x dz, we have -.v

' ,_ therefore ?/~ c e J^- a {x'—2 x^ -\- 6 x — 6).

— — --^—^ 172. The early analysts classed fluxional equations by

X ^(l.j,z ) the number of their terms. In such as consisted of two

licnce (art. 123.) a-zzcz4- c v'tl + ="1,or X- — c ;/ + ,,-., r .j,r .,«*,

/• /rr-^-L „'-^ .Chi^h K„ fVo.,Z ■ 1 . r^ I terms, and which therefore had the lorm /Sa z dzzz.

' \/ y^ -r y )t winch, by transposing c y, and taking the ^ J

squares, becomes x'ZZ 2 c ;/ + c^. au z du, the variable quantities could be immediately sepa-

170. In some cases an equation may be rendered ho- rated; it was not so however of equations consisting of

inogencous by transformation. Thus, in the equation three terms comprehended in the formula

{ax+by-{-e)dy^{mx-\-ny+fi)dx-:=.0, ik gh tf

we make (a x-\-b y-\-e) =:z, m x -f 72 y + /;— c, V" zf/z+/3« z du^ctu z du.

hence a dx-^bdyzzzd z, in d x-}-n d y^zd !, This may be put under a more simple form by dividing

andrfyz: — ^-r— — — ,f/:r — ^ ' " all the terms by yu z , it then becomes

?nb — 72a ~ mb — na ' _.

The proposed equation now becomes zdy + tdxzzO, z dz+—u ' z dzf=.—ti~' d u.

uv {mz — tt t)dz+{bt—.a z) d t ziO, which is homoge- ''' '^

Mcous. k-f , dy , g-i , _ dx

If »z 6- 7, a =0, this transformation fails; but then, ;;,= Suppose now = dz=.^—~du du^^—y—,

• .-, and the proposed equation is , *-/+i *-'+' .

0 ^ then, z ZZy,i<- ^Z.x, and

bedy]-biidx + (^axA-by){bdyJfndx) — 0, r, ...wJtL

the variable quantities may now be separated bv making d y -^^ -' '^ '( y""^ dx

a X + i y ==, by which d y - IfZlf^. The ' equation , J^"' ^^ ?'" j=^

., , b (A- — /+ !)« ff-i+i .

tlienbscomes :^7 — — -^.r* dx;

"(i'— ' + !>
In order to abridge, make

dx- ^i±Mi

ae — bli 4- (a — n)z

171. Let us now consider the equation (^'— /+ Q^ _ . C^'— ./"+ 'V- _

f/y + P ydx — q, dx, (§■ — ! + l>/~" ' (g- — I + \)y ~~ '

FLUXIONS.

18.1

f'-f _^.

e—ff

and then the ccjuaiion will become

dy + by" d x=.a x'" d x .
When 7!=1, the equation belongs to the class we have
considered in last article. When 7! =2, the equation be-
comes

dy-\-by~ dx=ax^"dx.
James Bernoulli was the first that considered this equa-
tion ; he gave an approximate solution of it, which, how-
ever, did not appear until the yeai' 1744, almost forty years
after his death. In 1720, the Count Riccati having suc-
ceeded in separating the variable quantities in an extensive
class of particular cases, he proposed it to the considera-
tion of geometers. (Su/i/i. to Leifi. Acts., t. viii. p. 73,)
and soon after Nicolas Eernoulli, the son of James ; Daniel
Bernoulli, and his brother Nicolas, Euler and Goldbatch,
found several solutions analogous to that of Riccati. When
m — 0, in which case the equation is d y-\-b y- d xZZLa d x,
the variable quantities may be separated, for we have then

dxZZ 7-;.

a — by^

Proceeding from this case, geometers have succeeded in

separating the variable quantities when m is any number

—4 i
of the form — — ^ , z being supposed any integer num-
ber. The general ])roblem, however, remains unresolved,
and indeed its solution is as much a desideratum among
analysts as the quadrature of the circle was among the geo-
meters of ancient times. On Riccati's equation, see Euler
Inst. Cat. Integ. vol. i. sect. 2. cap. 1. Lacroix, Traite du
Cal. Dif. vol. ii. p. .256, &c.

If the separation of the variable quantities generally be
a problem of insurmountable difficulty, in so simple a case
of an equation of three terms, its solution is much less to
be expected, generally, in an equation of four or more
terms. In some cases, by employing happy substitutions,
the thing may be done, but these cannot be reduced to ge-
neral rules.

173. When the expression which constitutes a fluxional
equation is such as would result immediately by taking the
fluxion of some function of x and i/,lhen that funclion put
equal to a constant quantity will be the primitive equation.
The fluxional equation v dy-\-y d x'^0 is of this nature;
its first member is the fluxion of the product :r y, therefore
xy^.c is the primitive equation.

A fluxional equation, however, may not be the result im-
mediately found by taking the fluxion of the primitive. It
may be formed by the elimination of some constant quan-
tity contained in the primitive and its fluxional equation, or
else it may be tlie result left after the fluxion of the primi-
tive has been divided by some factor common to all its
terms. Thus, if tlie primitive be yz^c x, or y — c :r~0, then
the fluxional equation 'ndy — c d .v^O ; here the terms of
the equation, as in the other case, form an exact fluxion
whose fluent is y — ex; if, however, by means of t!ie two
equations y — c x ;^ 0, and d y — c d x'^zO, we eliminate c,
we get-rrfi/ — ydx^iQ. The same result will be obtain-
ed, if we put the primitive equation under this form

f—O, for then ^ — /■ 1^0, and, rejecting the

X X

common factor — -, .r d y — y d x'ZiO. This expression x d y

X-

—yd X is not an exact fluxion, but it may be rendered so
by restoring the factor

the fluxion of ~.

' r ..1 .. , xdy — ydx

-J-, tor then it becomes — tt^ ,

a X'

174. In general, let u be any function of two variable
quantities x and y, then, whether these be regarded as in-
dependent of each other, or the one as a function of the

other, we have duzz. -r'^ ^+-r- dy (art. 103.) in this cs-
' dx ' dy ^ ■'

pression. — means the fluxional co-efficient of the function

f/.C

u, taken as if r were the only variable quantity contained
in the function, y being of course considered as constant;

and — is to be understood in a similar sense in regard to

X (art. 100) Put —:zzM, — — N, then, d it -ZZ M dx +
dx dy

d^ u
'N d y ; now, it has been proved (art. 102.) that

dyd.

d X d y

therefore

dN
d X

Hence we may conclude, that JAM and K are such/unc-
tions of two variable cjuantities x and y that M d x-j-N d y is
a comjiletejiuxion, the condition exjtresscd by the equation
(1) will always be satis.Jied.

On the contrary, j^M and N are such functions ofx and

y, that —. — ZT— ; — , theji M d x-f Nd y shall be an exact
d y d X

fluxion, which may in every case be found.

To prove the second part of the proposition, let us sup-
pose the fluent of M d x \.o be taken upon the hypothesis,
that in the function M, x is variable, and y constant ; and
let the fluent be P+Y, where Y is any function whatever
of 1/, which serves as the constant correction of the fluent,
and P is a known function of x and y, which results from

d P
I'M d X relatively to x only, so that M:z . The com-

dP dP

plete fluxion of P+Y is -—^rf or -j — - — - d y-\-d Y(103.) or

</ X

Mdx-\ — - — dy + dY ; by comparing this with M d x-{-

Nc'i/,we see that the two expressions will be identical, if

d P
we can give such a value to Y, that N dyzz— — dv-\-dY ,

"■=(

N-

(2.)

and then the fluent of M dx+Udy will be P-f Y.

dP
Now, by taking the fluxion of M~ — r— in respect oiy,

dU d'^P , , , ., • ^'M _ rfN

we have -- — ZZ.-. -. — , but by hypothesis — — — — ; — ,

dy dydx •' ' dy dx '

, f/= P d- P . . . . . d N _ rf^ P

and

rfN

d y d x'

: (102.), therefore -— — rz-; — , and

dxdy ^ ' dx dxdy

d^ P I dP\

=:0 ; that is (/ ( N — V- ^0> ihe fluxion

dxdy ' \ dy I

d X
being taken, supposing x alone variable ; therefore N —

d P
is constant in respect of .r, so that it is a function oiy

''^ /» .
only ; hence the possibility of finding Y =r / { N — j

d II is proved, and we have tlie fluent of M d x-\-'ii d u ex-
pressed by P-f /(N — ~j dy, and here, P=fMdx,

the fluent being taken upon the supposition that y is con-
slant.

It is evident that we mav begin with taking the fluent

182

FLUXIONS.

of N d y, supposing that x is constant, and proceed in all
respects as we have explained above. In general, we ought
to begin with that term which brings out the fluent wuh
the least calculation.

Example 1 . Let 2 6 j; d x + —■,,-^, „^ +ad i/=0

this case M— 2 b x, Nir

I clM „

— ; jt+a, and -J — :=0

v/C' + y') '^y

rf N
dx

zrOj as the condition expressed by the equation (I.) is sa-
tisfied, the expression 2 6 xrf jc + -^^r——j--+a rfy is an
exact fluxion. To deterniine the fluent, we have P :=
fMdx=bx^,-^=0,

Hence the primitive equation is

6ar*+ay+l.| cy+cs/{l+y^) \=.0.

Ex. 2. Let the fluxional equation be
a{x d x-\-y d y)

when the expression Md x+'S dy is multiplied, it may
become a complete fluxion. Let the fluxional equation be

put under this form -^ + KssO, K being equivalent to -rr.
' ilx IN

This equation results from the elimination of a constant
quantity c between a primitive equation, which may be ex-
pressed thus,/(jc,!/,c)=0, and its immediate fluxion. Or
else c may be eliminated directly, by bringing the primitive
equation to the form F {x,y)=c, which will lead to the
same result, (sec Example in article 49.) Put u for
F {x,y), also P d X for the fluxion of u taken relatively to
x, and Qdy for its fluxion relatively to y ; so that d u~

du ^ „du , du P

P d x+Qdy and — =:P+Q-p=ZO ; hence -f- + _ — 0.
^ ' dx dx dx 14

Because this equation does not contain c, it ought to be

identical with the equation -f- -f K=0 ; therefore

dy y_dy P_Prfx+Qdy,
dx"^ —dx'^ Q~ Qdx

s/{x^-¥yn
case M ~-

y d x — X dy .^

^ -^ + 3iy dy~0;

x^+y'
y

in this

^{x^+y^)

x'^+y-^-
a y

V(x^+y') x^+y

;+3 6y^

These expressions for M and N satisfy the condition

ZZ , (we omit the calculation for the sake of bre-

dy dx '^

vity,) therefore the expression which is put ZZO, is an ex-
act fluxion ; to determine it, we have

_ i* axdx py d

-Jy/{x^+y'y'Jx^ +
=av/(x^-fy^)-f arc. ^an. — )

the fluents being taken upon the hypothesis that y is con-
stant,

dP ay X ^, d¥

d y

'+y

.,N-

N ^d y=/3 A y2 d y=6 y^ -{-c

=3 6yS

J\" dy

The fluent is therefore

O^^^'f)-

a v'C-^^+y^) + arc (tan. — \+ by^+c—0

Ex. 3. Let the fluxional equation be

y dy

^ix^ + y^)

-1-dx 3 I

Here N z:

d M X y

,M=14

]^:

d N — X y

. dv . „ du
thatis,-r^+K=Tr-^
dx Q d X

; and hence

dy (^^-fy^)^" dx~{x^^y'-)^'
Hence it ppiars tnat li.e first member of the equation is
an exact fluxion, and, proceeding as in last example, we
find

x+V{x'+y^)=c.
175. If, in the equation M d x+N d yZZO, the condition
d M d N , , . .

— ; — =:— ; — , (which is called the condition of inteerabi-
d y d X °

lit) .) is not satisfied, we may next inquire whether it be
possible to find some factor, a function of x and y, by which,

Q(dy+Kdx)=rdK.
Now, the secend member is a complete fluxion, therefore
the first member is also a complete fluxion ; hence it ap-
pears, that there always exists a factor Q, by •which-, if the
Jluxional eyuafiora d y-}-K d xl^O be multiplied, the result
mill be a comfilete fluxion.

Let both sides of this last equation be multiplied by U,
any function whatever of u, then we have
UQ(dy-l-Kdx)=UdM.
Now, Ud M is still a complete fluxion ; therefore the other
member of the equation will also be a complete fluxion ;
and as the factor UQ may have an infinite variety of forms,
it appears that there is an infinite number of factors, suchf
that if a fluxional equation be multifilied by any one ofthentf
it luill be reiidered a comfilete fluxion.

176. It appears now, that the whole difficulty of resolv-
ing a fluxional equation is reduced to the determination of
a factor which may render it integrable. This, however,
in general, is a problem of insuperable difficulty. It can
be resolved when the equation is homogeneous, and also
when it has the form d y + P y dx^Qdx, P and Q being
any functions of x ; but we have seen, that in these cases
a solution may be obtained by other means. When the
primitive equation is known, the factor can be found by
which the primitive might have been deduced from its
fluxional erj^uation ; but then it is of no use. Euler, after
having shewn that, in certain cases, the factor may be found,
inverts the problem, and inquires what fluxional equations
may be rendered integrable by factors of a given form. On
this subject we must refer to his Instit. Cal. Int. vol. i.
sect. 2., or Lacroix, Trail e du Cal. Dif Sec. 2d part, chap. 4.
177. Let M be any function of two quantities x, y, and
let w^ PMd X, the fluent being supposed taken upon the
hypothesis that x is variable and y constant ; it is some-
times necessary to find the fluxional co-efficient of u rela-
tively to y, or, in other words, to find the fluxion of /*M d x
relatively to y, without previously finding the fluent of the
expression in respect of x. Because u^fyi d x, there-

, du ,, d'-u dU , d^M d'u

fore-— ZZ M, - — — :z-— — , but-- — -— =: -; — -7—)
dx dydx dy d y d x d x dy

d^'n dM

fore - — —-ZZ —7 —

dx dy dy

there-

j d^« ^ dM ^ ...

, and -7 — 7— dx~— - — dx, and tak-
dx dy dy

FLUXIONS.

las

ing the fluent relatively to x, considering now y as constant,
dy J ('

dy ^ d y

Ex. Let M=: / — /a ^ ,,, here M;

« A «

dM —X

y(.^

and — T — :^

:2^3 and

da /» — .

dy~JW

' — X d X

^{y^-X^y

dy {y^—x")^ dy J {tj

The theorem expressed by the formula

• rfP

-- 2T5-

«, A, B, C, Sec. being indeterminate quantities which are
to be investigated. From this assumption, d m —

*~^+(« + I)B'*+(*+2)Cf*+l+Scc.|rff.

The terms of the equation being now brought ail to one
side and put ~0, and these expressions for « and d u be-
ing substituted in it, we have

dit

-f^ '^"^ « Ai«->+ (<.+ 1)B J*+ («+2) C ««+'+ See.

will apply to the calculation of

dy'

dy tJ dy
in art. 174, without

previously taking the fluent V ZZ fMdx. It was invent-
ed by Leibnitz, and was considered as an important dis-
covery in the calculus. (See Bossut Traite du Cal Diff.
8cc. vol. ii. p. 58.) The whole fluxion of u relatively to
both X and y will be

M rf x -f- -j /— - — dx \dy.

Observing that the fluent in the parenthesis is to be taken,
supposing X alone to be variable.

178. When a fluxional equation involves the second or
higher powers (A dx and dy, as in this example dy'^ —

cfi d x^ ZZO, we may find the value of --^, by resolving an

algebraic equation.

In the present case, -^ iz =±; a,
dx

that d y -\- ad xznO, and also dy — adxzZO; hence
y -{■ a X ■{■ c ^0, and y — ax + (/ zz.O, are two primitive
equations, from either of which the fluxional equation may
be derived, and also from their product

{y + a X -{- c) (y — a x + c') ^ 0.

179. When the equation contains only one of the va-
riable quantities, x for example, we may deduce from it

■p ~ X, a function of x ; and hence y zzj'^ d x. But if

it be more easy to resolve the equation in respect of x,

then, putting —- :^/j, we may find x ZI P, some function

of ^, and hence rf jt ^ rf P ; and since d y ~fi d x, there-
fore, d y z=.fi d P, and y =://' dP-=.fi P— / P d /i. Tlie
relation between r and y is now to be found by eliminating
/;, by means of the two equations

x:=P,y=fiP—J'Pd/i.
Let the equation be x d x -{- a d y '^. b ^ (d x' -\- d y") ;

Making /i^-^, we have
dx

xzzbyix +fi') — ap=:P,

y=.l>/>^(l+fi^)—ia/i^—bfdfi^{l +/; = ).
The fluent oi d/i ^ (1 -^/^^) may be found by art. 123.

180. When tlie primitive equation cannot be deduced
from a fluxional equation by any of the known artifices of
analysis, tlicn, as a last resource, recourse must be had to
approximation by infinite series.

Ex. Let the fluxional equation be rf !/ + y cf orl^m x" dx,
and let us suppose it to be known that when x — a, then
yZZb. Assume xrra+f, and yzib-i^u; then when
f ^0 we have j<rrO ; we have also d x-^Ld t a.nddyzzdu ;
by these, the proposed equation is transformed to

du + (b + u)dizzm(a -^ t)" d t.
We next assume

« = Ai*+B;«+l+C;* + 2+Scc.

:A< -H*-1t1)B f -f («-|-2)Cr ' --l-Ecc.J

-f 6 -f Af"-f B«*+'+&c.f =0.

— m a"— m- a"-* / — m— a"-^ t^ — . &c. J

If we suppose cczz I, the terms placed vertically be-
comes similar, and then putting the co-efficients of like
powers of f^O, agreeably to the theory of indeterminate
co-efiicients, there results

A-f6 — mo"zrO, 2B-)- A — mna"-! — 0,
3 C -f B — »i"^"~'^a''-^=:0, &c.

1 .2

Hence A~3

■ b,

_ mn a"~' — ma" -(-6
2 '

^ mn(n — 1 ) a"~^ — mn a"~' -j- ma^ — li

2 . 3

&c.

These values being substituted in the series, we have u
expressed by t and known quantities ; we may then put
X — a for e, and y — b for m, and the result will give the
relation between x and y.

We might have proceeded with the original equation
d y -\- y d xzzm x" dx exactly as we have done with the

transformed equation, assuming yZZA x*-\- B x *"*" -f
&c. But as the result would not have contained a con-
stant correction, it would only have given tiie relation of
y and x upon the hypothesis that y ZZO, when x ~ 0. The
transformation serves to introduce the constant correc-
tion.

181. In the assumed series MZT A ? -f B <; ^ + &c.
the exponents of ; form an arithmetical progression, of
which the common difference is 1. In many cases, how-
ever, the common diff'erence will be a fraction, as in this
example {d x ■\- d y') y "Zlid x \ here we may assume

y := A Xa -f B a;^ -f- C Xc -I- &c.

By proceeding as before, we find

20—1 0+4— I o+c- 1

h?ax -fABax -f-ACax -f Sec.

0+4—1 2 4—1

-fABdx -fB^6x -f Sec.

o+c— 1

+ ACcx -I- Sec.

>>=:o.

— 1 -fAoT -i-Bar -t- Stc.J

Hence 2o — l^:0,a-|-6 — l3:a, c-f-c — 1 ~6,-&c.
Therefore a = i,bzz. 1, c^ |, Sec.
Again, A^ a rz 1, --^B {a + b) + A— 0, Sec,
Hence A z= v/ -' I^=— f •^= tV%/ 2, Sec.

andi/ = .r* ^2 — |.i-^-f-TV-^"^ \/ 2 — Sec.

This is the primitive equation, upon the hypothesis that
j/^;0 whenx^O.

On the resolution of fluxional equations by approxima-
tion, consult Euler Instil. Cal. Integ. vol. i. sect. 2. Lacroix
Traite du Cal. Dif. Part ii. Chap. 6,

184

FLUXIONS.

Of Fluxional Equations of the Second and Higher
Orders.

182. Let/ (i-,fy, c,c') denote any function, or expres-
sion composed of tlic variable quantities x,ij, and two con-
stant quantities c, c', besides any otlici- constant quantities.
Then

f{x,y,c,d) — 0, (0

may represent any primitive equation. By taking tlic

fluxion, (as explained Art. 45—50,) we obtain its fluxional

d y
equation of the first order, which will contain -— in addi-

d.c

tion to the other quantities, and may be expressed thus,

(2)

f'{.v,y,'^^,c,c') = 0.

By taking the fluxions a second time, an equation will
result, involving the fluxional co-efficient of the second

order-— ^, which may be expressed thus,

As these three equations will all hold true at once, we
may exterminate the two constant quantities c, c', and the
lesult will be a single equation

i"'-£B)^^-

in which the quantities c, c' are not found. This will be
the fluxional equation of the second order corresponding
to the primitive (1), and which is independent of the con-
stant quantities c, c'.

We may arrive at the very same equation (4) in two
other ways.

1. We may give the primitive (1) these two forms,
<? {x, y, c) zr c', il^ {x, y, c') ^c
Here <p and t^ are symbols, which serve the same purpose
asf,f',f", &c. Taking the fluxions of these equations,
c' is not found in the result of the first, nor c in the result
of the second. These results may therefore be put under
the form

By taking now the fluxions of these equations, we shall
derive the very same equation from each, which will be
identical with equation (4.)

For example, let the primitive equation be

x^ — 2ax -\-2dyZZ.O;

here a and b may represent the constant quantities c, c* in
equation (1) ; by taking the fluxions, regarding d x as con-
stant, we find,

dx dx^

After eliminating a and b by these three equations, we
get

2y_2x-/. -t-x^ -r4=0.

x-'+2by x^

— — = 2 0, —

X '

■2ax

Taking the fluxions, and arranging the results, so that UiC
constant quantities may stand alone, wc have

^dy

y — ^-r..

2 X y — x'-^
dx

dij ' dii

X -f y — X

.= 25,

Z=.2a.

d X dx

By taking the fluxion of either of these equations, the con
stant quantity in the second member disappears, and we

find 2 » — 2 a- -f- -\- x~ -— ^ 0, the same as before.
dx d x^

183. As two of the constant quantities contained in a
primitive equation may not be found in the fluxional equa-
tion of the second order, which is derived from it, so, on
the other hand, in returning from a fluxional equation of
the second order, to its absolute primitive, the latter can-
not be comjilctc, unless it contain two arbitrary constant
quanttlic.i, which are not in the former. Moreover, as the
same fluxional equation of the second order may be deriv-
ed from two distinct fluxional equations of the first order,
every fluxional ttjualion of the second order has two /iri-
mitive equations of the frst order, each containing its own
arbitrary constant quantity, and these again have one and
the same absolute /irimitive equation, which is also the com-
jdete firimitive, belonging to the fluxional equation of the
second order. Tlie properties ot fluxional equations of the
third and higher orders are perfectly analogous to these.
See Lagrange Lemons sur Ic Calcul. des Fonctioris, Legon
xii.

184. The most simple fluxional equation of the second

, . d~y „ r ■ r cl'^y -v ,

order is — ^ = A, some iunction ot x, or - — ZZ Ji- d x
d x' d X

Let us suppose that P is the variable part of the fluent of

X rf ar, then taking the fluent of both members of the

equation, and considering that, in the first member, d x in

the denominator is constant, we have

^=1 /x (/ JT = P -f c, and d !/ = P f/ .r -f c rf x.
dx ,J

Taking now the fluents a second time,

yZzfPdx-\- ex + c'.

As fP d xzzP x—f X d r =: xfX d X —fx X d X i
therefore, y ^xfX dx — Cx Xdx-\-cx + cf
Here c and c' are the two constant corrections that com-
plete the primitive equation. For example, if
d y' — a X d X' ^0, here X ^ a x, in this case,

y:Z.iax^ — ^ax^ + c x -\- c ZZ^a x^ -\- c x .\- c'.
In the very same way, the primitive of tne fluxional
equation d^ y — X rfx^ — 0, may be found ; we first put it

d'y

under the

form -— — X rf X,
d x^

then we have

dx'

PXd x-ziP •\- c, where P denotes the fluent /"X t/ .r.
The equation is now of the second order ; therefore the
rest of the operation is the same as has been explained.
The primitive will contain three constant corrections ; a
like fluxional equation of the fourt'i order would contain
four, and so on.

185. When a fluxional equation of the second order

a fluxional equation of the second order, of which the
complete primitive equation is x'^ — 2 a x -{■ 2 b yzzO.
We may otherwise put the primitive equation under these
forms

contains only

dy d-y
dx* dx'

, and constant quantities, if we put

-^ zs.iii then, d x being regarded constant,^ _, ~ -j-^ ; the

'dx2

■dx'

equation will now involve /;, d /i, d x, and constant quan-
tities, and it will be of the first order in respect of/z and .v;

rujxiONs.

185

we may theucc faid d x =:]? d/i, P being put for some
function of/i ; and since d ly ^z/i d x^zi Pp dp, we liavc

X zr/ P d fi , xj zz/ P /i rf /J

These lluents being taken, and a constant quantity added
to each, by eliminating/;, we shall get an equation express-
ing the relation between x and y.

Ex. Let a 4— =7-+ ( I + "r-^) ^ = 0 > '^^^i^" /' '** P"t

rf X

d X'

this equation becomes -^^ — h

d X

. dy , dfi . d'y
for -^ and -— for -— 4-
dx dx dx

(I +/J^)2IZ0, hence

— adh , — afld/i
dxzz 5-) d y— ^ ;

and taking the fluents

hence (c — xy -\- [y — c'^ZIZa'^.

By putting the proposed fluxional equation under this

form

_ (rfx^-frfy')t

dxd^y

we see immediately (art. 86.) that the second member is
the general expression for the radius of curvature, and
that the equation is the analytical expression of this pro-
blem : To find a curve whose radius of curvature may be
a constant quantity. The primitive equation just now
found shews it to be a circle, which indeed is sufficiently
evident.

186. Let us next consider equations of the form —

d x'~

dij

Y, some function of y. Putting as before -^zr/!,we!iave

d'y dfi fi dft .

- — j-:^:— z:z— — ; hence the proposed equation becomes,

d X

d y

after substitution, ," ^ Y, and fid p ZHYdy, and /i^::z. 2

dii

f\y + c, therefore pZZ ~ ^^^/ (c + "ijY d y), and

~J y/{c

d y

+ c',

[c + 2/\dy)

■where c and c' denote any two constant quantities.
Ex. Let the equation be d^y — y d x" := a d x^

d II /*

— ^zra-fy. Here Yzia + y, a.nd2 I Y d y = 2 a y -\- y"-,

hence

:• + <'

V{c + 2ay + y'y

: « + V + s/ (c + 2 a y -f i/ = )^ + c'.

(123)

187. When the equation contains ^ , -p,and^,it may

be transformed to a fluxional equation of the first order,
by substituting /; d x for dy, and d/i dx for d^y : then, if
we can find the primitive of that fluxional equation, and
thence the value of/; in terms of x, we may have the value
of y from the formula y = j'fi d x, or else, if we have the
value of X in terms of /;, then because r/idx=:/ix —
J'x d/i, we shall have y ^ fi x — fx d fi,
Ex. Suppose the equation to be
Vot. IX. Part \.

d X d'u

= X, or —

(1 -f/;-)i?rf.r
dfi

:X,

Where X denotes some function of ^, then

"X '

— dfi

and/-

dx
X '

~fi

-/(!+/'')■

and

/dr V
Tr-) then /; = . ^— -

As the first member of the proposed fluxional equa-
tion expresses the radius of curvature of any curve, its
primitive equation expresses the nature of a curve whose
radius of curvature is a given function of the abscissa.

1 38. If the fluxional equation contain ^ , — —, and

y, we may, as before, put /* = -^ , from which we set — -

dx dx^

the equation will now involve dfi,dy,/t.

dx dy

and y only. When the primitive equation can be found,
and thence the value of/; in terms of ;/, we may find x by

the formula x = I — ~ ; but when y is expressed hy fi, we
may then employ the formula x = — -{- jL-Jl,

189. In fluxional equations of the first order, it is the
same thing whether y be considered as a function of x, or
X as a function of;/. Either hypothesis leads to the same
primitive equation. In fluxional equations of the second
order, however, it must always be understood which of the
two is the independent variable quantity, because it is the
fluxion of this quantity that is considered as constant, or
that serves as an unit to measure the fluxion of the other
quantity. We have supposed y to be a function of x, so
lliat rf.ris considered as constant, but to pass from the
hypothesis of y a function of x, to that of x a function of
y ; and, consequently, from the hypothesis of d x constant,
and d y variable, to that of d y constant, and d x variable,
it is only necessary to have recourse to the formulae of

art. 96, and put —

d It d X

for

A similar remark

d x" d x^

may be made respecting the fluxions of any order what-
ever.

Or, instead of regarding x and y as functions the one
of the other, tiiey may both be referred to some other
variable quantity t, by means of the formulae above quoted.

Example. Let the equation be, [a -f x')

b dx'!-

= 0, in which d x is constant;

rf.r2 dx ^
by making the

above substitution, it becomes [a -\- x")

x dx

dy^
= 0, in w hich (/ y is regarded as constant.

b dy

d x'
dy''

190. Fluxional equations of the second order, which
have this form,

P, Q, and R, beiug any functions of x, are called lineai;
because y is only of one dimension j they are aUo said to
be of the first degree.

A a

186

FLUXIONS.

It may be easily supposed, that the chfiiciilty of fiiidhig
the primitive equation will be grcaicr than in the like
equation of the first order, and indeed, except in p:irlicular
cases, tliere are no known methods of reducing the pro-
blem to the finding of tlie finxion of a single variable
quantity, that is, to the quadrature of curves.

If R = 0, in which case the equation is

dx- ax

it may be reduced to a fluxional equation of the first
order by a very simple transformation. Putting e for the

fuila:

number of which the Nap. log.n: 1, assume y=.e-' 5
then, taking the fluxions, by art. 26. rule (C), considering
dx as constant,

d^v'

therefore the ctiuation is identical, and so the value of y is
truly determined.

The property which we have shewn to belong to a linear
ct|uation of the second order applies to linear equations
of all orders whatever. See Lagrange Theorle des Fond.
Jnat. 63—70.

192. As an example of the manner of resolving a
fiuxional equation of the second order by approximation,
let the equation be

d'y -{■ ax" y d x'^zzO.

Let us suppose that

y=x\A + lix +Cx +Dx -f kc),

„/'

UC^J

,d- y=. e-^'"'' {dudx + u'^ d x'i).

d y ^ u d X e"

The values of d y and d' y being substituted in the equa-
tion, and the common factors rejected, it becomes
du + <^u^ + 'Pu-ir Q)rfx— 0.

If P and Q were constant quantities, u might have been
supposed a constant quantity, we then have duzzO, and to
determine u we have

Let a and b be the roots of this quadratic equation ; then
ii::z.a and u^:b, and hence these two values of y,

ax+c bx + c'

!/— e )!/ = f ;

c C

or putting C for e , and C for e ,

ax fix

y ZZC e ,y:^C'e .

These, however, are only fiarticular values of the function
y, because each contains only a single arbitrary constant
qMantily, but by adding them we get

m ax bx

1/ = C e -f C e ,
for the complete primitive equation. To prove this, by
taking the fluxions we get

dy ^ o.r , , „, bx d'y - _ ax .j/-., bx

dx dx^

From these, and the primitive equation, after eliminating
C and C, we have

+ (a -f fi) —

thence we deduce

/ —

dx"" —

A-fn

A(A— 1) Aj? -|-(A+n-t-2)(Pi + n-f l)Bx "^" + &c

a x" yZZ a A X ^ + kc.

Hence, after substituting in the proposed equation, we
get

/ (/ — 1 ) A 1= 0,

(>, -f n -f 2) (a -F « -f 1) B -f A a = 0, Sec.

The first equation ought to leave A indeterminate, a?
one of the two constant corrections that enter into the value
of y ; that this may be the case, we must have A— 0, or
a;:: I. First, suppose a~ 0, then,

B=. "^^

(„+i);„+2)'

C =

Sic.

1.2.(«+I)(2M + 3)(n-f 2)^'

—a'.\

1 . 2 . 3 (n -f 1 ) (2 71 -f 3) (3 « -f- 5) (?i + 2)3'
Hence we have a primitive equation expressed by a series,
but it is incomplete, because it contains only one arbitrary
constant quantity: Let us next consider the case of A= 1,
and putting A', B', C, he. for the corresponding values of
the co-cfTicients A, B,C, Etc. of which the first remains al-
ways arbitrary, we have
—a A'

a^A'

dx'

■ abvZZO.

This will agree with the proposed equation, if we give a
and b such values, that a + 6 ZI P, and a bzz. — Q. If a
and b come out impossible quantities, then the exponents
of c, in the value of y, will have the form a. -\- ^ ^ — 1,

but then the exponential e ^ , may be expressed by
circular functions. Art. 123, and Arithmetic of Sines.

191. When P and Q are variable quantities, functions
of X, then if v and -v' are two values of y, which each

satisfy the equation —X- + 'P-t- + Q ;/ =0, we may take

t/=Cx/-f C'V,
ior the complete primitive equation. For then d y zz
Cdxi -f C'rf-y, d^y — (Zd^v-\- C'd^ v', and the fluxional
equation becomes

Now by hypothesis

1.2. (n+3) (2 n + 5) (n + 2)-

— q3A^

1 . 2.3(;;+3) {in + i) (3 n + 7) (?j-J-2)-=

D' =

&c.

This gives a second incomplete primitive equation : by
adding the two values of y, we get

ri+2 2n+4 3n+6

i/=A + Bx +Cx JfHx -f Sec.

ji« 2n+5 3nt7

-fA'x+B'x -fC'-r +D'x -f Sec.
for the complete primitive equation (art. 191.), where A
and A' are the two arbitrary corrections. If m is positive
and greater than unity, the series will converge so much
the faster, as x is smaller. In certain cases, however, it
will fail, because all the terms will become infinite. This
happens in particular when ?i = — 2. But then we may as-
sume y::^ci:r , and the equation will become A (a — I)
4-a:^0, which gives two values of A. Let them be A and A'.

A a'

The two incomplete fluents are y ■^. ctx and i/~<»'x- , and

A a' • .

their sumy^etx ■{■ a' x 'vs, the complete primitive

FLUXIONS.

187

equation. Sec Euler ImtU. Ca/c. //j/f.g-. vol. ii. chap. 7 ;
Lacroix 7'raite da Calc. Dlff. &c. Pait ii. chap. 6. This
last work, as it is the latest antl most copious, may be con-
sidered as exhibiting the most complete view of the theory
of flu.\ions of any extant.

Miscellaneous Problems.

193. Having now given as full a view of the principles
of the fluxional calculus as we conceive to be compatible
with the nature of our work, we shall conclude with a few
more examples of its application to the rcsokiiion of par-
ticular problems.

Prob. 1. To find the length of the enlarged meridian
In Mfrra/or'*, or rather Wright's projection of the sphere.

In this projection, themeiidians and parallels of latitude
are straight lines, which intersect each other at right an-
gles ; and the projection of any small arc of a meridian, (as
one minute,) reckoned from any parallel, is to the projec-
tion of a like arc of longitude in that parallel, as radius to
the cosine of the latitude of the parallel, that is, in the same
ratio as the arcs themselves on the sphere. Supposing the
radius of the sphere to be unity, let v be any arc of lati-
tude reckoned from the equator, z its projection on the
chat t, or the enlarged meridia?!. Let v' and z' be any small
increments of v and -, then, by the principles of the pro-
jection, —r =. , therefore, putting the ratio of the

■■ V cos. V

fluxions for the limit of the ratio of the increments, -— ^ZT

a V

•,a

nd d zzz

Therefore, taking the fluent (art.

no correction is

cos x^' c<>s.'y

146), 2=!. Van. (45''-f Jx<) ^ . Here

wanted, because when vZZO, then z = l. (tan. 45'') =1. (1)
:=0, as it should be.

If we compare the fluxion of : with that of the difference
of a parabolic arc and its tangent, (art. 138.) it will appear
that they are identical. Hence we have this elegant the-
orem. If, from the focus of a parabola, a perpendicular be
drawn to any tangent to the curve, and a circle be describ-
ed on the focus as a centre to pass through the vertex ; the
meridional parts corresponding to the arc of the circle be-
tween the vertex, and the perpendicular to the tangent, is
equal to the excess of the parabolic arc between the vertex
and point of contact, above that portion of the tangent
•which is intercepted between the same point and perpen-
dicular.

Henry Bond, in the year 1550, discovered, by chance,
that the enlarged meridian might be expressed by the lo-
garithmic tangents of half the complements of the lati-
tudes, a rule easily found from the preceding solution ; but
the difficulty of proving this was then considered so great,
that Mercator offered to wager a sum of money against any
person that should undertake to prove it either true or false,
James Gregory, however, proved it in his Excrcitationes,
GfOOTc/n'ftf, published in 1668, and afterwards Barrow, in
his Geometrical Lectures; their demonstrations, however,
were intricate. Afterwards Dr Wallis and Dr Halley
gave demonstrations, which were sufficiently simple and
elegant.

Prob. 2. A body T proceeds uniformly along a straight
line BC, (Fig. 43), and a body S, in pursuit of T, moves al-
ways directly towards it, with a velocity which is to that of
T in the given ratio of I to w j what is the nature of the
curve described by S ?

Let the tangent AB, which makes right angles with BC,

be put =a, the abscissa BR=x, the ordinate SR=y, the arc

dx
AS=r, then the subtangcnt R T = — y — (ait. 67,) and

BT = X — y -— : Now BT and AS being described in the

same time, they are to €ach other as the velocities n and

1, therefore BT=/2XAS, that is x — y

dy-

and hence,

taking the fluxions, making d y constant, — y

but d z=: ^[d x"^ -{-d y"), therefore
n d y d^ X

-=nd z;

y Vidx'+dy^y

Put d x=/i d y, then d^x= d ji d y ; hence, by substitu-
tion in the second member,
n dy d fi

and taking the fluents,

c-n\.{y)=\. \/i + ^[\+ti^) \

dv
Now, because /; = — = tan. RST (art. 67) when !/=:a,

then /!=0, in this case the general equation of the fluents
becomes c — n\. (a) =: 0 ; therefore c =: re 1. {a), hence

n\.{a)—n\.{y) =1. |/,+ v'(l+/! = ) } , and 1. ^ = 1.

1. ^

I /' + >/('+/'

■'}^

and

= jiJ^y/ (1-f/j^. By resolv-

ing this equation in respect of/;, and putting for fi its value

-^, we find
dy

2 dxzz °"''^ ■- ^"'^^

and taking the fluents a second time,

2 ^ =_ —2 ] ^+ c;

1 — n n-f-l

n n

but when y = a, x is = 0 j therefore 0 =
2 n a

+ c.

and c := —

1— ?i

V--" a

1 — n ' n+l
, and the equationof the curve is

n a

This

1 — n ' n+\ ■ 1 — ra^
line is the curve uf pursuit remarked by Bouguer

and Maupertuis, {^Mem. de VAcad. des Sciences, 1732).

PnoB. 3. If any number of straight lines are drawn ac-
cording to some determinate law, it is required to find the
nature of a curve to wliich these are tangents.

For example, let .^E be a straight line given by posi-
tion, (Fig. 43), and K a given poiijt without it; let any
number of lints KD, Kb', &c. be drawn, to meet AE in
D, D', £^c. ; and let perpendiculars DC, D'C, Scc.be drawn
to these lines ; it is required to find the nature of the curve
ACC, to which these perpendiculars are tangents.

Without attending to the particular case, we shall re-
solve the general problem, and suppose AE to be the axis
of the cuive (Fig. 44), A being the origin of the co-ordi-
nates, and CU any position of the tangent, which meets the
axis in D. From the point of contact C, draw the perpen-
dicular CB ; and considering C as a point in the curve, put
AB=.r, BC = i/; but again considering C as any point what-
ever in the tangent, put AB=j?', BC=j/'. Then, what-
ever be the conditions that determine the position of the
tangent, the relation of x' and y' the co-ordinates of any
point in it, may be expressed by the equation y'=P jZ-j-Q,

Aaa

188

FLUXIONS.

where P and Q ai« put to denote generally certain func-
tions of constant quantities, and some quantity /;, whicli
has the s;iiiic value for any given position of the tangent,
but which changes its value if the tangent chanf';es its po-
sition. For example, /j may express tlie angle which the
tangent makes with the axis, or it may icprestnt the
suhlangcnt Bl),kc.

Let us now suppose, that the variahlc quantity /i changes
its value and becomes /;+/;, and that C W is the new po-
sition of tiie tangent corresponding to fi + /i ; then, con-
sidering P and Q as functions of Ji, by Taylor's theorem
(art. 52. J

f/P (/" P/r
P becomes P-f- -3-^5-/i+ -7-rTiT+ ^'^■

Q becomes Q-|--^;—A+ ' ^

which this, and all rays reflected in the same m;;nDer, aie
tangents.

Draw AD the radius of the sphere, and AE parallel to
the incident ray P.D ; let C be the point in which the rc-
ilected ray touches the curve ; let DC meet AE in H, and
draw CI3 perpendicular to AE. Put AD=a, Ali=x,
liC=y, and let/; be the variable angle DAE.

By the principles of optics, AD bisects the angle RDH,
which is equal to DUE, thai is to the sum of the angles
DAH, ADH ; therefore the angles ADH, DAII are equal,
and angle DHE=2/;. Now, by trigonometry,

. ,, b-in. ADH ,_ sin. /(
AH— ^ TTTTT X ADn-r — ir-. a,

-f kc.

d/i " ' djr 2
The relation o{ x' toy' in the new position of the tangent
vill now be expressed by the equation

,'=p x'-f Q + (4^y+ ^y+^'^-+ ^-

Where KA'^-f- kc. is put for all the remaining terms of the
series.

Now, as this equation holds true of every point in the tan-
gent C D', and the equation z/'=r P x' -f- Q holds true of
every point in the tangent CD, it follows, that at c, the in-
tersection of the two tangents, both equations must be true
at the same time : therefore at c we have

/i-t-KA'-f &c.=0;

and dividing by /;,

4i.,+4fi+K„+.c.-o.

Conceive now the two tangents to approach to coincidence ;
when C con>es to C, then c will also fall at C ; and A, and
all the terms into which it enters, vanish ; also x' and y' be-
come ar and t/: and to determine the nature of the curve,
ve have these two equations :

t/=Pa-fQ (1)

dji ^ dli ^'

By eliminating }i from these, the resulting equation will ex-
press the nature of tlie curve.

Example 1. Let us now recur to the particular case
of AE, a straight line given by position (Fig. 45.), K a
given point, and KDC a right angle : Draw KA perpen-
dicular to AE ; put AB=.r, BC=y, KA=a, and let AD be
the variable quantity/;. The triangles KAD, DBC are
manifestly- similar ; therefore KA : AD : : DB : BC, that

, n /''
and y=—x — — .
a a

:/; : : x — fi : y ; hence a y=fi ^ — ■/''

Compare this with equation (1.), and it will appear that

dV _ J_ (/Q 2/i

dti~ G ' dfi'^ TT '

hence the nature of the curve is expressed by the two

equations,

= -^x— •^■0=— — ^
a a a a '

The second of these equations gives /i=J x ; and hence

P=i^Q = — — ; therefore
a a

; therefore 4 a yzzx- is the

the first becomes i/= ' — -

2a 4a

equation of the curve, which is evidently a parabola, of
winch AK is the axis, K the focus, and A the vertex.

Ex. 2. Suppose a ray of light RD (Fig. 46.) coming
from the «un to fall upon FEG, the concave surface of a
sphere at D ; and to be thence reflected in the direction
DH ; it is proposed to find the nature of the curve to

"sin. All D

sin. 2/i

T>rr_cos.CHB ^„_cos.2/i

BH — -^ — ttttt: X CB zz-r y;

sni. CHB s:n. 2/i ^ '

Hence a;=(AH -f BH)zz '""-^

sm.2//

cos. 2 fi
sin. 2 ft

!/>

, sm. 2/j sin.^

and y zz ^ x -— <

cos. 2/j cos.2/i

By comparing this with the general formula (I), it ap,-
pears that

sin./j

p_sin^ ^a

COS. 2/; C0S.2/J

rfP.
dfi-

'i^-

'cos. ' 2/i' dfi
Hence, by formula (2),

2 X r cos. fi

COS. fi
cos. 2/i

hence,
2 sin. 2 fi sin. fi

cos.^ 2fi

2 sin. 2fi sin./?

}"•

(/^■)

COS.- 2/i (.C0S.2/J ' cos.^ 2/!

From equations («) and (/3) we readily find,

xZZ{h cos. 2/2 cos.fi -f sin. 2 fi sin./;) a
y'ZZ{i sin. 2 /; cos./i — cos. 2fi sin. fi) a;

and hence, by observing that sin. 2fi^2 sin.fi cos.fi, and
that cos. 2 /; — 2 cos.^ /; — 1^1 — 2 sin." /;, (Arithmetic
of Sines,) we have also

xzz. i cos.fi (1 -f- 2 sin. ^ fi) a ; yZZ. sin.^ fi a.

From these equations it is easy to eliminate the tri-
gonometrical quantities cos.fi andsin./i, and the result
will be the equation of the curve, which is an epicycloid,
as we have demonstrated synthetically in the article Epicy-
cloid. The curve in question is the catacaustic curve to
a circle.

It is easy to see, that the general problem, of which
we have now given two exairiples, is very comprehensive.
We may evidently find by the formulse (I) and (2), cata-
caustic and diacaustic curves in all cases whatever. If the
tangents DC, D'C, kc. (Fig. 44.) be normals to another
curve, then the curve whose nature is sought will be the
evolute of that curve ; so that the problem applies also to
the theory of evolutes. These, and an infinite number of
other geometrical problems, are contained in the following
more general problem.

Prob. 4. Determine the nature of a curve which touches
an infinite number of lines of a given kind, described upon
a plane according to some determinate law : For example,
suppose the lines to be parabolas, described by a projec-
tile thrown from an engine with a given velocity, at every
possible elevation, in a vertical plane. Let HCD (in Fig.
47.) be any one of the lines of a given kind, (.i parabola for
example,) and suppose it referred to an axis AB, by the
rectangular co-ordinates AB~x' and BC ~ /. Let fi
denote some quantity belonging to the line, or curve HCD,

FLUXIONS.

189

which has always the same value in the same curve, but
which has dillcicnt values in dift'ercnt cui'ves. Thus, if
the curve be a circle, /i may be its radius; or if the curve
be a parabola, ji may be its parameter. Etc. This quantity
/i may also by analogy be called the fiarameter of the curve
HCD. Let us suppose the nature of this curve to be ex-
pressed by the equation

f[x',y',p)—Q, (1)

that is, let some function of y, ij', and /i, be supposed rz 0.
If fi now be supposed to change its value, and become
p. + li, then the curve HCD will change its figure, and
have some other position H'C'D'. Let Kh'zzx", and
P'C'~ v", be any co-ordinates of this other curve, and as,
by hypothesis, the two curves are expressed by equations
oif the same form, we must have

f{x",y",p+h)—0;

and this expression, by Taylor's theorem, is equivalent to

(2.)

n^",y",fi)

dji

/i + K/j2+&C.

Example. Let ACD, AC'D',&c. be parabolas described
by a projectile thrown from a given point A, with a given
velocity in a given vertical plane. It is proposed to find
the curve PCQ, which touclies them all. Let EF be the
axis of any one of the curves, AD an ordinate to the Mcis,
APz^a, the height due to the velocity of projection (see
Puo.iECTiLEs), AB~x, BC ::::!/, the co-ordinates of C,
any point in the curve. Put the parameter of the axiszz/i,
and considering AD as a function of/;, which is to be
regarded as variable, put AD z:z q-

By the theory of projectiles, liF ~ a — .| /i, and by the
nature of the parabola, Al'-rnr/i X LF, and AB x BD ~
fi X BC ; hence we have these two equations,

<ix-^x'- — iiy,{\) ?'=:4o/i— /i%(2)

From the first of these,

and taking the fluxions, considering x and y as constant;
and jf as a function of the variable quantity/;.

J/(^)!/,/0|

dp.

— ^ dp"" — ^'

The fluxion being taken upon the hypothesis that p alone therefore ^z=.^; but from equation (2),

is variable, and K/j^ + Sec. being put for all terms of the
series following the second, each of which is multiplied by
a power of A.

Let the two curves intersect each other in c, and let
Abzz.x, and c 6 — ;/, be the common co-ordinates ; then,
as equation (1) holds true of every point in the curve
HCD, and equation (2) holds true of every point in H'C'D',
both must hold true at once, if we substitute in them x and
y, the co-ordinates belonging to their common point c ;
that is, we must have

/(^)!/)/')=:0,

■dp

taking the
2 a — p

q — x _

f(x,y,fi) +

d)/{-^,y,P)\

fluxions, q d qzz~ a dp, — p dp, and hence -p —
and by the first equation -^ZZ.- ■> therefore

X p [t

2 a —p , , . 1 , • .
, and hence 92 — q x:^2afi — p', and substituting

for q^ its value given by equation (2), we getyx~2o^;
hence, and by equation (1),
x''

2 c X

A -f K /P-J- &c. := 0,

and hence we must also have

I/C-^jV'/O^

-j- K/i -f &c. — 0.

Lei C and C be now supposed the points in which the
curves He D, H' c D' touch the curve PCC'Q, whose
nature is required ; then, if we suppose h to decrease con-
tinually, and at last to vanish, the points C and c will ap-
proach to C, and at last will coincide with it, so that x and
y, which are co-ordinates of c, the intersection of the two
curves H c D, H' c D', will then become the co-ordinates
of the curve PCQ. As all the terms which contain h will
then vanish, we have evidently this rule.

Let the equation of the given curves be

f{x,y,p)z=.0,

X and y being the co-ordinates, and /; a
meter. From this equation, by taking the fluxion, sup-
posing p to be variable, and all the other quantities con-
stant, deduce this other equation,

variable para-

d\f{

x-,y,P)\
dp

= 0.

(^)

By these eliminate /j, and the result will be an equation,
which expresses the nature of the curve, that touches all
the given curves.

This formula includes in it that of Prob. 3.

2a — y

These values of p and q being substituted in the second
equation, and the common denominator rejected, it be-
comes

4 a^ jf-^I (8 a" — ^ay — x")x^.
Hence, 4 (3 y — 4 a^ — x", and this is the ecjuation of the
curve PCQ, which is evidently a parabola, having its focus
at A, the common intersection of all the parabolas, its axis
perpendicular to the horizon, and its parameter ~ 4 a.

The geometrical theory comprehended in the third and
fourth problems, has a corresponding analytical theory
relating to the fluents of certain fluxional equations. This
is the theory of singular primitive equations, which are not
included in the complete primitive equation. Thus, the
fluxional equation

d y ^{x'^-\- y^ — b) — y d X — xd x^O,
has for its complete primitive equation
a-^ — 2ay — a- — 4 = 0,
where a is the arbitrary constant quantity ; but, besides
this, it has a singular primitive equation

or^-f 7/^— 6 = 0,
which does not admit of an arbitrary constant correction,
although it equally satisfies the fluxional equation, as is
easily proved by taking the fluxions. The bounds within
which it was proper to confine this treatise, have not allow-
ed us to enter into this branch of the subject, which,
although interesting, is yet not elementary- On this sub-
ject, see Euler, Itistit. Cul. Integ. vol. i. sect. 3. cap. 4. ;
Lagrange, Mem. de FAcad. Ber. 1774 ; also, Lemons sur Is
Cal. des Fon. Le9. 15, 16, and 17; Laplace, Mem. de
I'Jcad. Far. 1772 ; Legendre, Mem. Acad. 1790; Poisson,
Journal de 1'JE.cole Polytechnique 13 Cahier.

190

FLUXIONS.

Proii. 5. Supposinfj tlie two poles of a magnet to be
given by posiuoi], unci lliat the Ibiceof each is rccipiocally
as the ntli power of the dibtancc from it ; it is required to
line) a curve in any point of which a needle (indefinitely
shcrt) being placed, its direclion, «hen at icst, shall be a
tangent to the curve.

To resolve this problem, it must be known that the north
pole of the needle is repelled by the north pole of the
magnet, and attracted by its south pole ; and that the south
pole of the needle is repelled by the south pole of the
magnet, and attracted by its nortn pole. Let N (Fig. 4S)
be the north, and S llie south pole of the magnet ; and let
NCS be the curve ; and AU a straight line in the direcliou
of the needle, which being, by hypothesis, indelinitely short,
its poles may be considered as coinciding with its centre
C : Join CN, CS. By the laws of magnetism, the attrac-
tive and repulsive forces of N and S are equal at equal
distances. Therefore, if we take C e and C/ proportional
to the attractive force of N on the south pole of the needle,
or its repulsive force on the north pole ; also cs and c h
proportional to tlie attractive force of S on the north pole,
or its repulsive force on the south polo of the needle, and
complete the parallelograms e C A s,/C g n, which will be
equal in all respects, and have their diagonals C s, C n in
the same straight line, by the principles of statics, the
needle can only be at rest when its direction AB coincides
with the diagonals .s C n ; because then the forces C s, C n,
which act upon its poles, pais through its centre.

Put NC :=.{!, SC n ? ; by hypothesis /j" : 9 " : : C 5- or
C It : C/or C f, but f^-: Cf or gn::i\n.Cn g : ^jC^", that
is as sin. ACN : sin. BCS, therefore

/)» :fy" ::sin. ACN: sin. BCS.

From this geometrical property of a tangent to the curve,

we are now to find an equation by which any number of

points in it may be determined.

Let the angles CNS = ^, and CSN ^■<|',and put _ for

the arc of the curve NC. It appears by art. 69, (for-

jnula 6,) that the tangent of the angle ACN is equal to

— fid<p „ . .. , .,, , ^Ui''d<p' +d/i^)

— : , therelore its secant will be -i^— ^ ; ,

dp. d ti

but the numerator of this fraction expresses the fluxion of

dz
r, (art. 76, formula 2,) therefore, sec. ACNzz -7-) and as

,_.. tan. ACN , . ■ « ^x, — /i rf (Z>

sin. ACN ^ TiTTT) therefore, sin. ACN ~ ; :

sec. ACN d z

Similarly, we have sin. BCS zI^-t—^ (here the sign is posi-

tive, because the arc and angle increase together :) we have

therefore p"" : q" : .

fi d <? g d 4'

and /i"

dz dz
d ^ : d ip i but in the triangle NCS, by trigonometry,
fi: q :: sin. if- : sin. <p, therefore sin."~' -^ : sin ""'^ : : —
df>:d •4', hence we get sin."~' i^ rf ■4' :z: — sin."-' ^ rf ^, and

J*sin.«-i (pdp -f y sin."-' ■^d-^zz.c^

an equation which expresses the nature of the curve.

If the force be supposed inversely as the distance, then
wz: 1, and the equation is ^ -f 4' =: c, a constant angle ;
hence it appears that, in this case, the curve is an arc of a
circle passing through N and S.

If the force be inversely as the square of the distance,
then 72 ^ 2, and the equation of the curve is

/sin. ^ rf ^ + y sin. •v// d i/' — c,

or taking the fluents,

cos. ^ -f cos. 1^ ~ f .

If a semicircle be described on NS as a diameter, cut-

ting CN, CS in II and K, it is easy to sec that Nil, SK
are to each other as the cosines of the angles S, N ; there-
fore, by the nature of the curve, NH -f- SK. will be equal
to a constant line. By this property, if, besides the points
N, S, any other point C be given, we can find as many more
points in the curve as we please. From experinients, it
appears, that the supposition of ?; — 2 agrees pj-ctty well
with the common phenomena of magnetism.

If 71 be supposed to have any other integer'value, the
fluents may be found by article 144.

Prob. 0. Suppose that a material point, placed at A, is
impelled by two forces, one which urges it from A towards
B,(Fig. 49.) witli a motion uniformly accelerated, and the
other on the contrary urges it from A towards D, with an
intensity which is in the inverse ratio of the distance of the
material point from B : It is proposed to determine the
principal circumstances of the motion.

Let AB— a, AN=s, the space described by the poit.t

in a variable time t, and v = the velocity which it acquires

in the same time ; let / denote the accelerating force,

which impels it from N towards D, and m the value of the

force at some given distance, (an unit), from the point B :

„ . , . NB a-\-ii m

By the nature of the question — - or — -

=:—r, therefore

/■

a-f-s

Again, let g denote the constant accelerating

force which acts upon the moveable point from N towards
B ; the force F, which actually impels it at the end of the
time ;, is the difference of these two forces, therefore F =/
^g- From this expression, and the principles of Dyna-
mics, (which set), we have these three equations,

F = gfFda'ZZvdVfdsZZ.vdl:

a-f-s

and by these we may eliminate any two of the four

ties F, s, V, •'.

From the first and second we get rrfi'" ( — ; —

and hence taking the fluents

— v'^ ^: m log. (a -f *) — g s -\- c :

To determine r, it is to be observed that at A, we have
V ^0, and s ^0, hence cZH — m log. a, and the adjusted
equation of the fluents is

V ~ z±::^ s 2 m X lot

quanti-

]ds

2S-;

This equation gives the velocity which the moveable
point has acquired after it has described the space s. To
determine the time f, we must substitute for v its value

in the equation d ;— — , and then take the fluent, which

however must be found by approximation or infinite series.

If we supposeDB to be a cylindrical tube, open only at
the upper end D, and A to be a piston , which fits the tube
exactly, and descends vertically by the force of gravity,
compressing the air in AB the lower part, then, as the
force of the compressed air to urge the piston upwards, is
known to be inversely as the space it occupies, mat is in-
versely as AB, and as at the same time the piston is urged
downwards by the force of gravity ; if we abstract from
friction, the piston will be urged by two forces exactly 3s
we have supposed the material point in the enunciation of
the general problem.

We have another example of this kind of motion in a
bullet fired from a musket or cannon : By the inflamma-
tion of the gunpowder, the space it filled is suddenly oc-
cupied by a great quantity of elastic vapour, which in ex-
panding, forces the bullet along the tube : If we suppose
s~ AD, the distance from the mouth of the cannon at the

FLY

beginning of tlic motion of llie ball, a -{- 4 is the whole
length of the cannon, then v will be the velocity with which
the ball leaves it : We may abstract from the resistance of
the air and the weight of the bnllet, which alter this velo-
city very little ; besides, when tlie cannon is horizontal, the
vcightis nothing: Therefore, making .g'ZiO, we have

FLY

191

.= ^^2mlog.("-±i)^

a formula which is ap[ilicable to Gunnery.

For other examples of the application of fluxions to the
theory of forces, see Dynamics, Sect. 5. (|)

FLY-Wheels. See Mechanics.

FLYING, Ariifici.al. Mankind liavc always viewed
the flight of the feathered tribes as an enviable faculty :
they have ascribed it to beings more favoured than them-
selves, whose power was courted or dreaded by them ;
and, after indulging in innumerable fictions and legends
concerning its operation, in regard to terrestrial objects,
they have entertained expectations that it is one of the pre-
rogatives of a celestial stale. Some more hardy and intel-
ligent, however, have even, from the remotest ages, con-
ceived the practicability of conveying themselves through
the air by mechanical expedients. But so incompatible
has it appeared with the physical structure and abilities of
the human frame, that " to fly in the air" has universally
been regarded as one of those chimerical projects which
no ingenuity could realize. Hence the learned Bishoj)
Wilkins has truly observed, " amongst other impediinents
of any strange invention or attempts, it is none of the mean-
est discouragements, that they are so generally derided by
common opinion, being esteemed only as the dreams of a
melancholy distempered fancy." Yet, on considering the
nature of the atnioiphere in common with other fluids, the
disposal of matter of known specific gravity, and the ap-
plication and efTecl of the mechanical powers, it does not
seem altogether logical, to declare it impossible for man-
kind to elevate themselves in the air by means of wings.

Though more peculiarly the attribute of birds and in-
sects, flight is not denied to quadrupeds. A species of
squirrel is provided with two broad membranes, connect-
ing the fore and liind limbs, by means of which it accom-
plishes leaps resembling short flights. The numerous
bats which inhabit every region, enjoy the privilege in the
highest extent. We know also that there is a fish which
can leave the sea, and support itself fov a short time in the
air, by the size and action of its fins, forming a substitute
for wings. It is chiefly, however, in birds and insects that
we find the full exercise of this admirable faculty, which
is attained by organs very different in appe^irance and
structure. Indeed, on attending to those of insects, nothing
can be more diversified, or, in certain species, more re-
mote from the wings of birds. The bodies of some
scarcely bear any proportion to their enormous wings, as
in several genera of butterflies ; while the wings of grass-
hoppers, bees, and many species of dipterous or two-wing-
ed insects, and beetles, seem incapable of supporting the
body. The wings of birds arc invariably formed of fejthers,
long and light, and in general tapering to a point : those of
insects consist, in some, of a thin membranaceous sub-
stance, covered with scales, which fall off in a powder, or
of a reticulated frame, or of thick horny plates conjoined
with the thinnest membranes. But all these varieties per-
form analagous functions, in enabling the animals to ac-
complish their aeiial navigatioiis. Neveithelcss, their
mode of action is not alike, and great specific gravity is
overcome by the rapidity of percussion on the air. Thus,
the broad wings of the butterfly, slightly exerted, sustain
it as if floating above, while the wings of the humble bee
are in the quickest motion during its flight. There is also
a considerable variety in the structuie of birds, and in
their powers of flying. Some, as the kite, the eagle, and the
swallow, rise to an incrediye height, while the penguin,

the ostrich, and the emu, are incapable of elevating them-
selves from the earth. The penguin is provided only with
short feathered stumps; the ostrich has wings, which ate
never employed but to assist it in running ; and the tex-
ture of the whole plumage of the emu plainly evinces,
that it is not formed for flight. It is not a covering of
feathers, therefore, that imparts the faculty of aerial trans-
portation ; nor is it essential that wings should be com-
posed of light substances.

Mankind have considered it possible to attain this fa-
culty by the aid of artificial wings ; and have always re-
sorted to them, in history and fiction, as the primary
mode of rising aloft in the air. It is an idea that has been
C(|ually indulged by the ancients and the moderns. Dseda-
lus thought to cfl^ect his escape from Crete, by the close
imitation of nature, as pictured by Ovid.

Katuraimque iiovat j nam ponit in ordine pennas

A minima cxptas, Inngam brevinri sequent! :

At clivo crevisse putes. Sic rustica quondam

Fistula ihsparibus paulatim surgit avenis

Turn lino medias, et cevis alligat imas

Atque ita compositas paivo curvamine flectlt,

tl reras imitentiir arcs. Metamouph. lib. 8.

But the ancients went farther than the mere conception
of such efforts; for we are told that they constructed ma-
chines in the figure of animals, which could actually fly.
At the same time, it must be acknowledged, that this is
rather reported from tradition, than described by specta-
tors, as the wooden pigeon of Archytas, which is alluded
toby Aulus Gellius, in these words, " Sec! id quod Archy-
tani Pythagordim covxmentum esse atcjuc fecissc tradilur :
vecjue winus adniirabile neijne tainen variuni (Sgue videri
debet, nam el /ilcric/ue iwbilium Xiracorum et l''avorinus
fthilosofilius rne?noriarti!n veterum exseqtientissimus ajfir-
tiiatis /line scri/iserunt, simulaerum cotumbe e ligno ab
Archyta, ratiojie (jitadam diseiJUinaijite mcclianiea /actum
volasse ; ita erat scilicet libramentis sus/iensum et aura
s/tirilus inclusa atque occulta concitum." Thus the ac-
count is less specific than could be desired of so singular
a contrivance ; and, although it has been imitated by the
moderns, there is the same defective explanation. After
Charles V. resigned the crown, various expedients were
invented to amuse his leisure hours; among these was the
mechanical flight of artificial sparrows, which being al-
lowed to escape from his apartment, performed various
evolutions in the air. Before his demission, indeed,
it is said that an ingenious mechanic constructed an eagle,
which flew from Nuremberg to meet him, on his approach
to that city : and the same mechanic is reported to have
constructed an iron fly, which having left his hand, flew
about, and at length, as if weary, returned to its master.
Later mechanics have been content with representing the
motions of bir.ls on the earth, but not in flight ; though
this is perhaps less dilTicult than may be supposed.

Bishop Wilkins considers, that " there are four several
ways whereby this flying in the air hath been or may be
attempted, two of them by the strength of other things,
and two of them by our own strength. 1. By spirits or
angels; 2. By the help of fowls ; 3. By wings fastened im-
mediately to the body ; 4. By a flying chariot." The first

192

FLYING.

he rejects, as not being founded on natural and artificial
grounds, and the last we have seen realized in the modern
invention of balloons; the second has hardly ever been
tried, thoutrh the extreme docility of animals might appa-
rently be an encouragement : but the third has excited re-
peated notice, and the ingenious have endeavoured to re-
duce it to practice.

The chii^f ami principal obstacle has been found in
that lav,- of nature, whereby bodies of greater specific
gravity thantlie fluids wherein they are immersed sink in
them; but t!\fs pioposilion is liable to modification, partly
resulting from the figure of the body and the motion of
the fluid. Rural observers cannot fail to have remarked,
that towards autumn the dandelion, a common plant, is
covered with a downy substance, continually wafted away
by the wind. In a calm it falls to th.e ground, but in a gen-
tle breeze, it rises high, and advances with steady progres-
sion in the air, until it escapes from our sight. On more
minute inspection, this substance is discovered to repre-
sent a parachute in miniature : the head is feathery, and at
the end of the stalk is a seed attached, of far greater spe-
cific gravity than the atmosphere. The real down also,
■which we see floating around us, is of considerable speci-
fic gravity ; and it is singular, that it is not those birds
most amply provided with it, nor those of the least speci-
fic gravity, that fly the greatest distances. If the feathery
substance could be put in motion while the air is at rest,
or if an analogous machine, very light, could strike the sur-
rounding atmosphere by any means that could be devised,
its rise and progressive motion would be certain.

We read of attempts at artificial flying in various coun-
tries, and at different intervals, but we are left without in-
formation respecting the means employed: it has been
conjectured, however, that most of these performances
resembled the descent of mountebanks on ropes, from lofty
places, secured by a ring or traveller, while the agitation
of wings attached to their shoulders, broke the force of the
fall. Such was the exploit of an Arragoncse who, at the
coronation of Edward VI. descended a rope compared to a
ship's cable stretched from the battlements of St. Paul's
steeple to the ground, " running on his breast as if it had
been an arrow out of a bow." Of the like description
were the exhibitions of a juggler on a rope stretched from
the top of St. Giles's steeple in Edinburgh, and fastened
below the cross, in 1598. But these feets of address had
frequently a fatal termination ; as that of another perform-
er from the battlements of St. Paul's in the reign of Mary ;
and as happened at Shrewsbury in the year 1739, where
one, who was no mountebank, having successfully per-
formed several tricks on a rope extended from the top of
St. Mary's steeple, attempted to descend it across the liver,
when it broke, and he was dashed to pieces by the fall. In
the strange pageantry of old, exhibited in these kingdoms,
and elsewhere, there are repeated allusions to angels, or
divinities provided with wings, flying to meet sovereign
princes on their triuinphal entry into cities ; but the mode
in which this was accomplished is not described.

During the darker ages, when the possibility of aerial
transportation was ascribed to necromancers, Roger Ba-
con, a man of the most comprehensive genius, speaks of
attaining it by wings attached to a machine. In his singu-
lar work, Z)e Mirabili fiotestate ylrcis et .^Tature, he uses
the following expressions. Possunt fieri instrumenta vo-
landi, ut homo scdens in medio instruvienti revoh'ens alijwid
ingenium, fier tjuod ale artificialiter comjiosils aerem X'erbe-
rent admodum avis vo/antis. That is, it is possible to make
a flying machine, so that a man sitting in the middle, can,
by some expedient, produce a rotatory motioji, which shall
occasion the percussion of artificial wings on the air like
the flight of a bird ; and in another passage, he observes.

" that a flying machine has undoubtedly been made in our
own time, not that I saw it, nor did I know any one who
had done so, but I am acc|uainted with an intelligent per-
son wiio has conceived such a contrivance." Though the
passage is not void of obscurity, by combining it with the
former, the author's meaning may be gained. Bacon lived
in the thirteenth century. Not far from the same period, and
in the succeeding centuries, we are told of a certain monk,
Elmerus, who flew above a furlong from the top of a tower
in Spain. Another flight was attempted from St Mark's
steeple in Venice, and also at Nuremberg ; and by means
of a pair of wings, a person named Dante of Perouse, was
enabled to fly ; but while amusing the city witli his flight,
he fell on the top of St Mary's church and broke his thigh.
The subject of aerial navigation received still greater at-
tention in the seventeenth century, as the works of Lana,
Hook, and Wilkins testify ; and contemporary with them,
one Besnier, a locksmith of Sable in France, obtained con-
siderable effect from the aid of four wings. In the only
imperfect description of them preserved, they seem to have
been four rectangular surfaces, one at the end of each of
two rods passing over the shoulders of him who used them,
and the posterior two connected by a cord to his ancles.
The inventor did not pretend that he could rise from the
earth or sustain himself long in the air, from inability to
give his apparatus the requisite power and rapidity ; but he
progressively availed himself of its aid to leap from a win-
dow one story high, next from the second story, and then
from a roof, whereby he passed over the neighbouring
houses. By leaving an elevated position, he could cross a
river of considerable breadth, or any similar obstacle. His
first pair of wings were purchased by M. Baladiu of Gui-
bre, who used them with success. This was recently pre-
ceding the year 1678; and in the beginning of the next
century, Bartholomew Laurence de Guzman, a Portu-
guese, contrived some strange machine, partly formed
with wings like a bird, of which scarcely any intelligible
account has been transmitted to us. But while one set of
mechanics and philosophers encouraged each other with
the hopes of aerial navigation, Borelli, a Neapolitan ma-
thematician, declared that it was impossible for men to fly
by their own strength, _/fcri non /loiesl lU homines firopriia
viribus artificiose votare /losiint ; and perhaps this has been
one cause of more attentive investigation into the proper-
ties enabling birds to fly, or the methods which might be
adopted by men.

As it is neither those which are of the smallest specific
gravity, or clothed with the lightest down, that are most
capable of flight, it follows, that flying is accomplished
merely by a mechanical operation ; more particularly on
considering how much it is diversified among the feather-
ed tribes ; one bird is continually soaring aloft at the great-
est altitudes, another skims the earth without intermission,
while a third only displays its wings occasionally, and is as
if propelled by another agent when they open or close.
Bishop "Wilkins, that ingenious philosopher, whose works
are too little studied at the present day, judiciously ob-
serves : " We see a great difference betwixt the several
quantities of such bodies as are commonly upheld by the
air : not only little gnats and flies, but also the eagle and
fowls of vaster magnitude." Many insects, even some in
this country, exceed the diminutive size of the humming
bird, which is but an eighth of an ounce in weight. It is
almost constantly on the wing, apparently sipping with its
tender bill from the nectarium of the flowers. An enor-
mous bird, the condor of South America, is calculated to
be 8162 times heavier : " What an amazing disproportion
of weight 1" exclaims a modern author ; " yet, by the same
mechanical use of its wings, the condor can overcome the
specific gravity of its body with as much ease as the little

FLYING.

193

luimmintj bird. But Uils is not all ; wc arc inrormed that
this immense bird possesses a power in i'.s win^s so far ex-
ceeding what is necessary for its own conveyance throuijli
the air, that it can take up and ily away with a whole sheep
in ils talons, wiUi as mucii ease as an eagle would carry ofV,
in the same manner, a hare or a rabbit. This we may rea-
dily give credit to, from the known fact of our little kcs-
tril, and the sparrow hawk, Hying olV with a partridge,
■<Nhich is nearly three times the weight of cither of these
rapacious little birds." A calculation is next made of the
combined weight of the condor and its prey, whicli amounts
to 20,405 times the weight of the humming bird, to be
borne through the air. Probably the author would have
found similar illustrations among the more rapacious wing-
ed insects, whose wings are less adapted for it. But he
proceeds with another comparison, to prove that the length
of the wings of birds is not augmented in proportion to the
increased weight of their bodies, whence he infers the pos-
sibility of constructing a machine with which a man should
be enabled to ily. " The condor carries ten stone with
wings of 12 feet expansion from tip to tip. The humming
bird carries one drachm with three inches expansion; the
common wren is three times as heavy as the humming bird,
and has but one inch more of wing; a pigeon weighs 16
ounces, which is 255 limes as heavy as it is, and has only
ten times more expansion of wing; the goat-sucker is 40
times as heavy, and has seven times the length of wing.
Therefore, as a man weighing ten stone, and a machine to
bear him two, will only exceed the weight of the condor
and its prey by one fifth part, and as the wings of the con-
dor are about 12 feet ; suppose we make a pair of wings of
silk, one fifth longer than they are, which will be about
fourteen and a half, I am tlioroughly persuaded they will
be found amply sufficient, as they will far exceed the pro-
gressive increase of birds wings."

Authors have even speculated on the fashion and sub-
stance of the wings, and in general have concluded that
they should be analogous to those of birds. Bishop Wil-
kins, after observing that if there be any such artificial
contrivances that can fly in the air, then it will clearly fol-
low, that it is possible also for a man to fly himself; and he
recommends the wings to be formed of feathers, like those
employed by Dsedalus, or else of one uninterrupted sub-
stance like those of bats " But now because the arms ex-
tended arc but v.'eak and easily wearied, therefore the mo-
tions by them are like to be but short and slow, answera-
ble, it may be, to the flight of such domestic fowl as are
most conversant on the ground ; and therefore mucli more
would the arm of a man, as being not naturally designed
to such a motion. It were, tlierefore, worth the enquiry,
to consider whether this might not be more probably ef-
fected by the labour of the feet, which are natiu'ally more
strong and indefatigable. In which contrivance the wings
should come down frotn the shoulders on each side, as in
the other; but the motion of them should be from the legs
being thrust out and drawn in again, one after another, so
as each leg should move both wirigs, by which means a
man should as it were walk or climb up into the air." In
all later proposals, however, the idea of flying by exerting
the animal powers alone on wings has been abandoned ;
though the utmost confidence of its success continues still
to be entertained, and, as we shall immediately see, it has
actually been put in practice. The close imitation of na-
ture, also, under the modification required by the ditterence
of materials, is invariably to be preserved.

Among the most recent authors on this subject, may be
named Sir George Cayley, who endeavours to shew that
there is nothing adverse to the soundest reasoning in ex-
pecting to overcome the difficvilties which men experience

Vol. IX. Pakt. I.

in elevating themselves in tiic air. He shews that flight
is purely mechanical, for by a simple experiment in dispo-
sing four quill-feathers at right angles to each end of a rod,
and presenting an oblique surface to the air, this apparatus
will of itself rise, when a rotatory motion is produced by
the relaxation of a spring untwinint^ a coid connected witli
it, and encircling the lod. " The fliglit of a strong man by
great muscular strengtii," he observes, "though a ciu'ious
and interesting circumstance, in as much as it will proba-
bly be tlic first means of ascertaining tliis power, and sup-
plying the basis whereon to improve it, would be of little
use. I feel perfectly confident, however, that this noble
art will soon be bruuglil home to man's general conveni-
ence ; and tliat we shall be able to transport ourselves and
families, and their goods and chattels, more securely by
air than by water, and with a velocity of from 20 to 100
miles per hour." Bishop Wilkins, indeed, was long ago
so confident of success, that he anticipated the period when
a person should as readily call for his wings to make a
journey, as he then did for his boots and his horse. Sir
George Cayley continues : " To produce this effect, it is
only necessary to have a first mover, which will generate
more power in a given time, in proportion to its weight,
than the animal system of muscles." He seems to infer,
that he has made experiments on a considerable scale; but
we are not acquainted with their nature or result ; and we
arc precluded from discussing his theories, by the neces-
sity of referring to what seems more decidedly practical.

Just about the same time, Mr Walker of Hull, whose
sentiments we have already quoted, directly proposes a
machine whereby flying shall be accomplished ; and he
maintains that he is the first person who has discovered the
real theory of the flight of birds. On considering the
structure of birds, he maintains, that by means of a ))air of
wings and a tail duly expanded in a perfectly passive state,
ajid aloft in the air, without any muscular motion, a bird
procures a suspending power, which counteracts the spe-
cific gravity of its body, and prevents its being precipitated
to the ground. But this is perhaps assuming too much;
for it is probable, tliat although we are not sensible of the
action of the wings in birds apjiarently suspended motion-
less in the air, tiiey would fall to the earth without it. With
respect to the quill-feathers, which are here the prime
agents, he observes, that, as they were intended to swim in
a fluid so light and subtile as the air, it was necessary they
should consist of the lightest materials imaginable; that
being intended to strike upon the air with great power and
efl'ect, it was requisite that the shafts should possess much
strength with elasticity. " It was expedient, too, that the
quill-featliers should shut and open, to let the upper air
pass through the Vv-ings, to facilitate their ascent when they
are struck upwards. It was also necessary that they should
all shut close together, forming each wing into a complete
surface or web, when they are by the muscular power of
the bird forced down, in order to give a more secure hold
upon the air below, and by their means keep the bird up.
Now, if we do but examine the quill-foathers, we shall find
in the shafts astonishing strength with elasticity, and very
little specific gravity indeed. The webs arc broader on
one side of the shafts than the other, which causes them to
open as the wings move up, and to shut as they come down,
exactly answering the purposes I have already mentioned."
With regard to the operation and effect of the wings and
tail in an active slate, it appears that flight is attained from
ihe resistance of the air or percussion. " When a bird, by
the ]j'jwer of its pectoral and deltoid muscles, puts ils
wings into action, and strikes them downwards in a per-
fectly vertical direction upon the air below, that air, being
compressed by the stroke, makes a resistance bv ils elastic

B b

194

FLYING.

power against the under side of the Avliigs, in proportion to resisting force against the back edges of the wings, to glide
• ' ' ■' "■ '-IS of the wings, forward in a right line." We shall abstain from following

the rapidity of the stroke and the dimensions ot tlie wing
and forces the bird upwards: at the same time, the back
edges of the wings being more weak and elastic than the
fore edges, they give way to the resisting power of the
compressed air which rushes upwards against the same
back edges, acting against them with its elastic power, and
thereby causes a Vrojccllle force which impels the bird
forward. • And thus we see that by one act of the wings,
the bird produces both buoyancy and progression. When
the tail is forced upwards, and the wings are in action, the
bird ascends ; and forced downwards, it consequently de-
scends. But the most important use of the tail is to sup-
port the posterior weight of the bird, and to prevent the
vacillation of the whole."

Fortified by these principles, Mr Walker proposes an
apparatus, whereby, from the action of wings, flying shall
be attained ; and tliis is to consist of a case formed of light
)natcrials, provided with wings of the requisite dimensions,
to be put in action by a man pitting, and as if rowing a boat.
The wings are recommended to be each about eight feet
long when horizontally expanded ; and fastened upon the
top edge of the car, with two joints each, so as to admit a
vertical motion to the wings, which motion may be effected
by a man sitting and working an upright lever in the middle
of the car. A tail of seven or eight feet long, and the same
breadth at its extremity, must be fixed to the iiinder part of
the car, and spread out flat to the horizon, in the same
manner as we see the tail of birds." Considerable atten-
tion must be paid to the structure of the wings and tail, a
point that has never escaped speculators on this subject ;
and Mr Walker proposes that the shafts of each are to
consist of six slips of thin whale-bone, dressed, and taper-
ing to a point ; then wrapped together from end to end in a
tound form with small twine, and filled with cork along
the inside. They are next to be covered with silk, very
compactly woven, and as impervious to the air as possible.
This is to be laid on in separate broad slips, and should
open to admit the passage of the air as the wings move up,
and close together again as they come down, operating in
the same manner as the quill-feathers in the wings of birds.
]3ut such a peculiarity may be found unnecessary on expe-
riment, because, as the author observes, " we see flying
squirrels, bats, butterflies, flying fish, Si:c. with wings form-
ed of compact membranes, all flying exceedingly well."
Tt is essential that the car be externally covered with silk
or very thin leather, which must be united to the base of
the wings along each side of the car, to prevent, as much
as possible, the air from escaping any where but from the
back edges of the wings. Should that be neglected, when
the air is compressed by the wings being struck down-
wards, it will rush upwards through the car, and thereby
fail of giving that resistance against the under side of the
wings, whicli is necessary to give buoyancy and progres-
sion. The whole is to be considered " as a large artificial
bird, and the man placed in the inside as the vital or mov-
ing pov/er." Such is the flying machine by which Mr
Walker expects to accomplish a journey to the ethereal re-
gions. In studying i's operation, he particularly directs
our attention to the propulsion occasioned by the reaction
of the air against the under side and back edges of the
wings. " When the air is struck by the wings, the efl"ect
of its reaction against their under side and back edges is si-
milar to that which is caused by the wind blowing with suf-
ficient force against a mill sail when it rushes off on one
side, and impels the sail to move, with this difference only,
that the sail, being fastened at one end of an axis, is made
to revolve ; whilst the bird, being at full liberty in the air,
is caused, by the expansive power of the air acting with a

the author in his details respecting the manner in which
the aerial navigator is to commence his flight ; how he is
to clear the tops of houses, trees, and hills, with safety ;
and how he is to guide himself through the subtile fluids
floating high above the earth : but he is no less confident
than Sir George Cayley, of the speed of his journey; and
in answer to any objections against the utility of flying, he
says, " I hope it will be granted, that flying will be of great
use, if by such means we can have our letters, newspapers,
U.C. conveyed to any part of the kingdom, at the rate of 40
or 50 miles in an hour: or if that numerous class of mer-
cantile agents, riders, henceforth be enabled to glide
through the air with great expedition in flying machines:
or if a man by such means can take a rope to any mariners
in distress along the sea-coast, and thereby be the happy
instrument of saving their lives: and if the circumnaviga-
tor be able to quit his ship, fly, and explore the interior
parts of a new-discovered island, free from the annoyance
and hostilities of its rude inhabitants."

The expectations of these authors would certainly not
be disappointed, could the flight of man, if it be attainable,
approach the speed of the feathered tribes. Birds dart
tiirough the air ; the eye can scarcely follow them ; and
the largest can almost instantaneously seek those points
and altitudes, where they are lost to human vision. Some
conjectures have been formed of t!ie rate of this extraor-
dinary velocity. Sir George Cayley computes the flight
of the common crow at 34i feet in a second, or above 25
miles an hour. Mr. Cartwright calculated the flight of wild
ducks on tiie coast of I^abrador, &t 90 miles an hour. Spall-
anzani, by actual experiment, found that a swallow flew 20
miles in 13 minutes, or at the rate of 92 miles an hour ; but
he conceives, that the swift or martin can traverse no less
than 60 miles in 15 minutes.

It appears, that in the year 1808 or 1809, Mr Degen, a
watchmaker of Vienna, actually realised the views of the
numerous projectors who preceded him, regarding the
flight of men in the air. We regret that we cannot present
a description of his machine in detail ; but it seems con-
structed on philosophical principles, and to operate in a
manner analogous to the wings of birds, while the effect
partly resembles the closing of a parachute stationary on
its descent. A frame is made, principally consisting of rods
of some strong but light materials, on which the adventurer
stands in an erect posture. A heart-shaped wing, nine
feet long, eight broad at the swell, and terminating in a
point, proceeds from that part of the frame close to each
shoulder ; and a fan-shaped tail, apparently connected with
both wings, proceeds frojTi behind as far as their swell.
Each wing is concave like a parachute, and, by a series
of cords from tlie extremity of the different ribs composing
it, can be suddenly contracted, so as to give percussion
against the air, and consequently by its resistance produce
elevation. It is not sufficiently explained how the working
of the machine is efl'ected ; but it is to be inferred, that this
is done by elevating, depressing, or revolving a crank, con-
nected at each extremity with the series of cords, which
display or contract the wings. M. Degen is said to have
mounted high in the air by the aid of his machine, and to
have exhibited a flight resembling that of a bird, not con-
sisting merely in ascent or descent, but in real aerial navi-
gation.

We are hence entitled to conclude, that the elevation of
man in the atmosphere by artificial wings, is not beyond the
bounds of possibility. Without indulging in fanciful the-
ories, could it be reduced to practice, it assuredly would
not be void of utility. The reason why the invention of

FOL

ION

195

balloons has not liitherto been cniincnily beneficial, arises
from llicir unwicldly size, which is an olislucie almost in-
superable to guiding tiicni, and whicli leaves llieni at llic
mercy of the winds. It might be olhcywise on the emphjy-
nient of wings, for a narrower proportion could be preserv-
ed between an oar or a rudder, of whatever kind or de-
scription, and ihe total volume of the machine, tlian belwecn
the same implements and an inilatcd balloon. IJirds, how-
ever, present some physical peculiarities, wliich man can
never hope to imitate : their ■v;;>nscular powers, their cor-
poreal structure, and above all^^ieir mode of respiration,
are of a difi'erent nature from what is witnessed among ter-
restrial animals. Hence it is not unlilcely that the highest
perfection of artificial flight would only be a distant ap-
proach to the admirable prerogative which has been con-
ferred on the feathered tribes. See Aulus Gcliius, lib. x.
cap. 12. Journal des Savans, 1678, p. 235. Wilkin's Ma-
thematical Magic. Arclieologia, \'o\ \\i. Holinshed's Chro-
nicle, vol. iii. p. 1121. Walker's Treatise on Artificial Fly-
ing. Sir George Cayley on Aerial Kavigation, in Js'ichol-
son's Journal, vol. xxiv. Annales des Artset Manufactures,
torn. xxxi. \\\xhe.r, Sur le Vol des oiseaux dc jtroic. (o)

FO. See China.

FO-PEE. See China.

FOCHABERS, is the name of a small town in the coun-
ty of Moray, situated on the right bank of the river Spcy,
a few miles above its mouth. The town stands on a rising-
ground above the river, and consists of a square witii
streets entering it at right angles. The houses are neat and
■well built, and the church, situated on the south side of the
square, is a handsome building. A very large and elegant
bridge, built of free-stone, and consisting of four circular
arches, was lately thrown over the Spey at this town. The
two middle arches have a span of 95 feet, and the other two
a span of 75 feet. It was completed in 1804, at the expenco
of 1 4;8S0/. Gordon Castle, the beautiful and splendid man-
sion of the Duke of Gordon, is contiguous to the town.
The body of the castle is four stories high, and at each end
is a pavilion of two stories, connected with tiie body by a
gallery of two lower stories. The whole length of the front
is 568 feet. In the middle of the southern side of the build-
ing is preserved an old tower 90 feet high, built in tiie loth
or 11th century. The population of Fochabers is about
1000, and the town is in a very thriving state. See An Ac-
count of the Antiquities, isfc. of the Province of Moray. (_/)

FOCUS. See Astronomy, Conic Sections, and
Optics.

FOG. See Meteokology.

FOGGIA, a town of Naples, in the province of Capi-
tanata. In consequence of the destruction of the old town
by an earthquake in 1732, the present town was built with
great regularity and neatness. The houses are well built
with white stone, and the streets are good. The granaries,
in which the corn is preserved, arc built beneath tiie streets
and squares ; the sides within being faced with stone, and
the orifices closed with earth and stones. On account of
the insalubrity of the climate, the town is in a great mea-i
sure deserted in summer, but in winter it is supposed to
contain about 20,000 inhabitants, {j)

FOLKSTONE, the Lapis Pojiuli of the Romans, and the
Folcestane of the Saxons, is a seaport town of England in
the county of Kent. It is situated on unequal ground near
the sea, and consists of three irregular streets, built chiefly
on the acclivity of a hill. The houses, many of which are
good, are principally built of brick. The church, which
stands directly on the cliff above the town, is dedicated to
St Mary and St Eauswith. It is built in the form of a
cross, with a tower rising from the intersections, support-
ed on very large piers, from which spring pointed arches,

witli plain mouldings. The inarket-house has been re-
cently built at the expencc of the ILarl of Radnor. A free
school was founded here in 1 674, for 20 poor children. The
Baptists, Quakers, and Methodists, have each a meeting-
house in the town. There is also a custom-house at Folk-
stone, and a battery mounting six heavy guns.

Folkstone enjoys a good coasting trade, and ship-build-
ing is carried on here to a considerable extent. The inliabi-
tants are, however, principally employed in fishing. The
fish is of a superior kind, and consists of mackerel, her-
rings, soles, whitings, conger eels, plaice, skate. Sec. The
harbour was small, and preserved principally by jetties;
but it has recently been much iinproved. Before the town
there is good anchorage, with eight or ten fathoms of water.
Folkstone is a member of the cinque ports, and is governed
by a mayor, 12 jurats, and 24 common councilmen, &,c. This
town was formerly very large, containing 5 parish churches;
but the greater part of it has been carried oIT by the sea.
About a mile and a half to the north of Folkstone, on the
top of a high hill, is an ancient camp, comjjrche.iding near-
ly two acres. The small bathing village of Sandgate is
about a mile and a iialf west of Folkstone. A large mar-
tello tower has been erected in the centre of the castle of
Sandgate; and at Shorn Cliff, on the hill above Sandgate,
an extensive range of barracks has been recently built. In
the year 1811, there were in the town of Folkstone,
Inhabited houses ..... 765

Families . 841

Do. employed in agriculture ... 23
Do. in trade . . : . . . 157

Males 1673

Females 2024

Total population . . . . . 369 7

See the Beauties of England and ]Valcs, vol. viii. p. 1 106,
and Hasted's History of Kent, (w)
FOXDI. See Fundi.

FONTAINEBLEAU is a town of France, in the depart-
ment of the Seine and Marne. It is beautifully situated in
the forest of the same name, and consists of a principal
street, with several smaller ones. Fontainebleau is chiefly
celebrated for its royal palace, which is built at the south
end of the town. In its external appearance it is very ugly
and irregular, having been erected at different times. It
consists indeed of four distinct chatcaus, each of which has
a garden, and contains no fewer than about 900 apartments,
most of which arc filled up in the most splendid style.
The apartments in whic ii the Pope was detained by Bona-
parte ; the small room, in whicli Bonaparte himself abdi-
cated the throne of France ; and the betl-room in which he
slept before he set off for Elba, are now shewn with great
interest to travellers. The gallery of Francis I. contains
26 busts of eminent men upon marble pillars. Among
these, the writer of this article observed Alexander the
Great, Demosthenes, Cicero, Gustavus Adolphus, Duke of
Marlborough, Washington, Colbert, L'Hopital, and a great
number of Bonaparte's aides de camps. A large bust of
General Dessaix presided at one end of the room. The
chapel is extremely beautiful, the floor being variegated
with the finest marble ; but it had not received any repairs
since the revolution. The theatre is remarkably elegant,
being adorned with blue and gold. In the middle of a
large piece of water stands the pavilion of Louis XIV. Se-
veral pieces of water are seen from the palace, and some
fine wooded hills, but there is nothing very remarkable
about the grounds. The front of the palace, which is op-
posite to the town, is inclosed with a lofty iron railing, each
rail being in the form of ,a spear with a gilt top, a form
which is adopted at all the palaces of Bonaparte.

The forest of Fontainebleau is almost roundj and con-
Bb2

196

ION

tains about 25,000 acres. It covers several small liills ami
plains, and tlie siut'ace of these hills is covered with large
insviU.lcd stones, which have the appearance of" being
thrown there by accident. Many fine trees in the forest
are in a state of complete decay. Population of the town
9000. {j)

FONTAINE, JoH.N' de la, a celebrated French poet,
and one of the most original writers of that nation, was born
at Chateau-Thierry, in the year 1 62 1 . He received a liberal
education, but discovered no peculiar talent for poetry until
liis twenty-second year; at wliich period his latent powers
are said to have been kindled by the perusal of some of the
odes of Malesherbcs. His first essays he Vfas in the habit
of submitting to the judgment of a i elation of his own, who
encouraged him to proceed, and frequently used to read
■with him Quintilian, Horace, and the best Roman authors.
La Fontaine also endeavoured to improve his genius, by an
acquaintance with the French and Italian writers; and,
from the works of the most eminent Greek authors, he
drew many of those fine moral and political maxims, which
he has interspersed among his fables.

A desire of enjoying the conversation of men of letters
induced him to remove to Paris, where the intendant, Fou-
quet, soon procured him a pension. He was afterwards ap-
pointed gentleman to the Queen Henrietta of England ;
but the early death of that unfortunate princess put an end
to all his hopes of court preferment. Some time after
that event, the generous and witty INIadame de la Sablierc
invited him to reside in her house, offering to provide him
■with an apartment and all necessaries. The invitation was
accepted ; and he soon became so domesticated in his new
residence, that the lady, having once in a pet turned away
all her servants, observed, that she had kept only her three
animals, — her dog, her cat, and La Fontaine.

La Fontaine does not appear to have possessed any share
of that lively sensibility, which has generally been con-
sidered as characteristic of the poetic tribe ; on the con-
trary, he seems to have been gifted with a very extraor-
dinary degree of apathy and indifference. In his conduct
and behaviour, he was plain, artless, easy, open, and credu-
lous; he displayed no envy or ambition; he never took
umbrage at any thing that was said or done ; and he lived
long in habits of the most cordial intimacy with the most
celebrated wits cf Paris. He made no figure in com])any,
but frequently exposed himself to ridicule, in consequence
of his awkwardness and absence of mind.

Upon the deatii of Madame de la Sabliere, with whom
he had lived upwards of twenty years, he is said to have
received veiy flattering invitations from several of the
English nobility ; but he was induced to decline them, in
consequence of the liberality of the Duke of Burgundy,
and the emulation excited among his own countrymen by
the generous invitation of the English lords.

.\itliou2;h far from being eitlier an infidel or a libertine,
La Fontaine had lived in extreme carelessness with regard
to religious concerns. However, when in 1692 he was
seized with a dangerous illness, tlie priest who attended
him is said to have prevailed upon him to suppress a
dramatic piece, which was just going to be offered for
representation, and to make a solemn apology, or palinode,
in presence of a deputation of the members of the academy,
for the publication of liis tales. The singularity of his ap-
pearance and habits was such as to pass for slupitlity
among the vulgar, or with those who were not intimately
acciuainted with his character. The nurse, who attended
him during his illness, observing the fervour of the priest
in his exhortations to the sick man, exclaimed: " Ah I my
good Sir, don't plague him so ; he is rather stupid than
wicked." He died at Paris in the year 169j.

La Fontaine is generally accounted one of the most
original writers of France. His fables are f^slccmcd as
masterpieces in that species of composition, and stand
unrivalled by any writer of his own, or of any other
country. Ingenious thoughts arc ihcic unfolded with ad-
mirable clearness and simpliiity, clotiied in language at
once easy and graceful, and adorned with all the charms
of a brilliant versification, wiiile the most piofound moral
maxims and rellections are delivered in a style divested of
dogmatism, and seem to arise naturally, and without effort,
out of the narrative.

His tales, which arc borrov/ed for the most part from
the Italian novelists and romance writei's, are i elated with
great humour and vivacity ; but it is to be regretted, that
the subjects in general are such as admit of no moral ap-
plication ; and which no art can divest of a colouring offen-
sive to delicacy, (r)

FONTARABIAjOr Fucnta Rabia in Spanish, and /''07ia
ra/iiclus in Lutiu, is a town of Sp.iin in the district of
Guipiscoa. It was formerly called Ocaso. It is situated
in a small peninsula on the sea coast, on the left bank of
the Bidassoa, and the tov/n is built in the form of an
amphitheatre, on a hill, which looks to the sea, on the
south angle of the Gulf of Gascony. It is well fortified
both by nature and art, being {lelended by a strong for-
tress towards the sea, and on the land side by the high
mountains of Jasquevel. The harbour would be good
■were it not left di y by the tide. Its position, according to
trigonometrical observations, is. West Long. i° 47' 15",
North Lat. 43° 21' 36". See Laborde's View of Sfiain, vol.
ii. p. 349. (j)

FONTENELLE, Bernard le Bouvier de, a French
author of considerable celebrity, was born at Rouen, in the
month of February 165". His mother was a sister of the
famous Corneille ; from whom he may be supposed to
have inherited some portion of that literary genius for
which he was distinguished.

Fontenelle acquired the rudiments of learning at the
school of the Jesuits at Rouen ; and at the age of thirteen,
he produced a successful Latin prize-poem on the sub-
ject of the immaculite conception. At fifteen, he had
completed his course of studies. His father intended that
he si:ould embrace the profession of the law, which he
himself had piosecuted with success ; and Fontenelle
actually pleaded a cause before the parliament of Rouen.
But the discipline and habits of the legal profession were
not congenial with his easy and indolent disposition ; he
resolved, therefore, to abandon these pursuits, and to de-
vote himself entirely to literature. With this view, he
accompanied his uncle, Thomas Corneilie, to Paris ; and
commenced his literary career by the production of a
tragedy, which, however, was unsuccessful upon the stage.
But he bore the disappointment without murmuring; and
undismayed at the result of his first attempt, he turned
his attention towards other subjects, in which he was bet-
ter qualified to excel.

The first production which contributed to bring him
into notice as an author, was his Dialogues of the Dead ;
which, although written in an affected style, and objec-
tionable in many respects, acquired considerable popu-
larity. His Letters of the Chevalier d' Her"** are much
inferior to those ot Voiiure, and inigin have been suppress-
ed without any injury to his reputation; indeed, he never
expressly avowed nimself the author of these letters. In
his Eclogues he departed from the peculiar style and
character of that species of writing, and introduced in-
genious thoughts and fine allusions, remote from the sim-
plicity of pastoral life
The two works of Fontenelle which contributed most to

FOR

197

establish the reputation of his literary character were, his
Plurality of Worlds, and his treatise on Oracles. The
ground- work ot bolli of these treatises was borrowed; but
Ills luminous and methodical genius gave clearness to sub-
jects that were previously involved in obscurity ; wiiilo
llie graces ol liis style, sometimes perliaps a liule too
brilliant and flowery, rendered the principles of the ab-
stract sciences acceplal)h' to general readers, by bringing
them down to the level of ordinary understandings.

Fontenelle appears to have had a great desire to dis-
tinguish himself as a writer for tiie stage ; and after having
failed to obtain the success he expected from his tiagcdy,
he attempted the composition of operas ; but of all his
dramatic productions, tlic opera of Peleus and Thetis,
which was first represented in 1689, is the only one which
had merit sufficient to preserve it from oblivion.

While yet a young man, he took an active part in the
controversy which then agitated the literary world, respect-
ing the comparative met it of the ancients and the moderns.
Fontenelle declared himself an advocate for the latter; and
his conduct in this dispute is thought to have proved an
obstacle, for some time, to his admission into the Acade-
my,— an honour which he at length obtained in the year
1691. During a period of nearly 65 years, he contributed
to support the celebrity of that illustrious body, by the
propriety of his moral conduct, and the splendour of his
literary character. He was also admitted a member of
the Academy of Sciences in 1697 ; and two years after-
wards, when the constitution of that learned society under-
went some change, he was clothed with the title of per-
petual secretary, and became one of its most active asso-
ciates. His history of the Academy of Sciences, and the
eloges which he pronounced upon several of the most
eminent academicians, afford ample proofs of his talents
and acquirements, and of his zeal for the interests of learn-
ing. He emliraced the principles of Descartes , and con-
tinued faithful to the theory oi vortices, after the introduc-
tion of the Newtonian system had deprived it of almost all
its adherents.

Fontenelle died at Paris in the year 1757, having lived
nearly one hundred years. For this uncommon longewly,
he appears to have been indebted to a very extraordinary
constitution of body and of mind. At his birth, he was
thought so extremely delicate, that doubts were entertain-
ed whether he slunild live. In his youth, he avoided every
kind of bodily and mental fatigue ; abstained from every
sort of diversion that demanded an eflort of strength, and
spent the whole course of his life in a series of studies and
pleasures equally tranquil. His mental constitution was
lio less singular. He seemed totally divested of passion;
■was never irritated by censure, nor elevated by praise ;
never transported by joy, nor depressed by grief; and he
is said to have never laughed nor wept. If this constitu-
tion deprived him of some pleasures, it also preserved
him from many evils ; and it enabled him to attain an ex-
treme old age, without suffering much from the infirmi-
ties incident to tliat periorl of human life, (r)

FONTENOY. See Britain.

FOOD. See Aliments.

FOOT. See Measures.

FORCES. See Dynamics and Mechanics.

FORESTAFF, the name of a clumsy instrument, long
ago exploded, for taking the altitudes ol the heavenly
I)odies at sea.

FORFAR-Shire, one of tlie maritime coutiiies of Scot-
land.

1. A'atural History. — -The county of Forfar, known also
by the name ol jingus, is situated on the cast coast of
Scotland, immediately to the north of the estuary of the

Tay, between S6° 27' and 56' 59''of North Latitude, and
between O" 14' west, and 0'^ 46' east of the meridian of
Edinburgh. It is bounded on the south-west and west by
the county of Perth ; on the north-west by Aberdecnshirci
on the north-east by Kincardineshire ; on the south-cast
by the German Ocean, and on the south by the Frith of
Tay. The line by wliich it is divided from Perthshire is
very uneven, and extends from Kingudie, to the westward
of Dundee, in a northerly direction to the source of the
Isla. The division between this county and Aberdeen-
shire is chiefly marked by the Watershed i tlie ground
containing rivulets running northward to the Dec belong-
ing to the latter, and the ground with rivulets running
southward into the Esk or the Isla to the former. The
Noith Esk divides the lower part of the shire from Kin-
cardine. It contains 977.97 English square miles, or
496,230 Scottish acres.

Tins county, possessing both maritime, inland, and
alpine districts, has every variety of aspect and climate. In
the high grounds, among the Grampian mountains, where
the snow is seldom long absent even in the summer
months, the air is cold and piercing. In the inland dis-
tricts, the climate is mild and genial ; and the same might
be said of the places along the coast, were they not occa-
sionally visited with easterly breezes, previously chilled
by the cold of Scandinavia. Several registers of the
weather have been kept in different places in this county,
in which the quantity of rain, and the state of the barome-
ter and thermometer have been recorded with accui'acy.
One of these registers kept at Belmont, in Strathmore,
twelve miles north-west from Dundee, and two miles dis-
tant from any eminence, indicated the following quantities
of rain, in inches and decimals, during six years.

In the year 1790 31.4

1791 37.1

1792 38.4

1793 39.5

1794 39.

1795 35.6

During the three first years of the preceding period,
the following appears to have been the state of the baro-
meter and thermometer :

Inches,
Mean height of the barom. in the year 1790 29 69

1791 29.61

1792 29.59
Mean height of Fahrenheit's thermom. 1790 41°

1791 42

1792 42
Another register kept at the Crescent, half a mile west

from Dundee, on the banks of the Tay, and 40 feet above
its surface, indicated by the rain-gauge and thermometer
as follows.

Inches.

1790 Rain 22,27 Thermometer 51°.

1791 24 8 48.5

1792 34 12 48.

1793 28.13 49.

1794 30 44 52.

1795 29. 46.
Although there are many springs in this county, none

of them can be considered as remarkable, either for the
quantity of water which they discharge, or the mineral sub-
stances which they hold in solution. A few springs of
the chalybeate kind are resorted to by persons labouring
under diseases arising from debility of the organs of diges-
tion. The principal springs ar<', one in the neighbourhood
of Montrose ; another at 'VVoriuy hills, to the south-west of

198

FORFAE SHIRE.

Abcrbvothick ; and a third at Dumbarrow, in the parish of
Duiiichen.

Formerly there were few parishes in which lakes did
not exist ; now the number of these is greatly reduced. A
few have been drained, in order to increase the extent of
tlie arable ground ; but by far the greatest number, con-
taining fine shell-marl at the bottom, have been drained, in
order to oljtain that valuable manure. The lake called
Lentrathen loch, situated amidst the Grampians, and in
the neighbourhood of most magnificent scenery, is nearly
of a circular form, about a mile in diameter, and yields to
the botanist several rare plants. Loch Lee, another of the
Grampian lakes, is about a mile in length, and a quarter
of a mile in brcadtli. In the more level parts of the county,
M'e meet with tiie lakes of Forfar and Roscobie ; and among
the Sidlaw bills, those of Luodie, Balshardy, and Pitten-
dreich. These are well stored with trout, pike, perch,
and eel.

The principal rivers in this county, or waters as they
are provincially termed, are, 1. The M^rlh Esk. This
river takes its rise from Lochlee, whose waters are sup-
plied by many small streams, which flow from the neigh-
bouring mountains. It descends from the high grounds
with considerable rapidity, and, after having been joined
by several small streams, as the Mark, the Tarf, the
West Water, and the water of Cruick, it empties itself
into the German Ocean, a1)out three miles north-east of
Montrose. 2. The South Esk likewise has its rise from a
small lake arising among the Grampians, fed by the moun-
tain-streams of Clova. Descending from the (irampians,
it receives several subordinate streams, and, after passing
by Brecliin, empties itself into the basin at Montrose. 3.
The Isla is another of the streams which rise in the Gram-
pian mountains. Its channel is deep, and in the course of
its descent exliibits many fine cascades. In the low grounds
its motion becomes less rapid, until it falls into the river
Tay in Perthshire. The streams called the Dean, the
Lunan, the Dichty, and the Brotheck, are too inconsider-
able to be ranked as rivers.

The surface of this district is greatly diversified in its
appearance. On its northern and western limits, the
Grampian mountains rise in lofty grandeur, and exhibit all
the varied scenery of an alpine country. They are here
termed the Braes of Angus, and in some places possess an
elevation of nearly 3000 feet. To the south of the base of
the Grampians, and at the distance of four or five miles,
another range of hills appears, with a character less bold
and majestic, known by the name of the Sidlaw hills.
These are to be considered as a continuation of the Ochils,
as they are composed of the same materials, observe the
same direction, and exhibit, with these, an almost uninter-
rupted continuity. This range does not greatly exceed
1000 feet in height above the Tay. It traverses the whole
extent of the county from Montrose to Lundie. Amidst
the Grampian mountains, and even among the Sidlaw hills,
there are numerous vallics, which add beauty to the sce-
nery, and give fertility to the district. But these rallies
appear as nothing, when compared with that extensive
plain situated between the Grampians, on the one hand, and
the Sidlaw hills on tlie other, called Strathmore, and some-
times termed by the natives the Hovj of Angus. This great
valley runs parallel with the Grampians from their com-
mencement in Dunbartonshire, to their termination on the
borders of Aberdeenshire. Tiiis great valley, in which the
y^--hand of the manufacturer will ere long dig a canal, and
-'' spread the sail of commerce, is scarcely elevated 200 feet
above the level of liie sea. It would appear from the stra-
tified hills of gravel which hero and there appear, and from
all the other phenomena of the valley, that it was the ba-

sin of an extensive lake, fed probably by many of those
streams which at present flow through other districts, ow-
ing to the changes which the Grampians have undergone
by the hand of time.

The county of Angus presents to the mineralogist a
fine field f(n' the display of his powers of investigating na-
ture. No less than four classes of rocks make their ap-
pearance : The primitive, the transition, the floctz, and tlie
alluvial.

The rocks of the primitive class are granite in small
portions, gneiss, mica slate, and clay slate. The granite
presents several varieties, with respect to the size of the
grain, and the colour of the felspar. In some instances it
is fine-grained, and bears a close resemblance to the gra-
nite of Aberdeen. The variety termed Pierre grajihique,
and a still more uncommon variety, in which the felspar
assumed a rose colour, were observed by Colonel Imrie.
This granite occupies the centre of the Grampians, and
appears to be the fundamental rock. It contains rock
crystal, called Cairngorum, and topaz. Gneiss is a very
prevalent rock in this district. It rests upon the granite,
and is fine-grained, compact in its texture, and usually of
a grey colour. It contains in several places beds of horn-
blende rock. Mica slate is by far the most abundant rock.
The mica which it contains . termed sheefi's siller. It
seldom contains garnets. 'Granular limestone is by no
means of rare occurrence ; : .d were the Highlanders dis-
posed to burn it, they would soon improve their pastures.
Peat is at hand, and answers well as fuel for the purpose.
Clay slate occurs in the less elevated districts ; but in these
strata no good beds of roof slate have as yet been discover-
ed, owing probably to want of skill and industry. These
primitive rocks are traversed by veins of porphyry, con-
sisting of a basis of compact felspar, with crystals of fel-
spar, and grains of quartz. These veins are from 8 to 10
feet in breadth, and although occurring at considerable dis-
tance from one another, yet they all observe the same di-
rection. They stretch nearly from south to north. Lead
glance has also been found in veins among these rocks. It
was formerly wrought to a considerable extent near the
old castle of Innermark, and yielded a sixty-fourth part of
silver.

In descending from the Grampians towards the valley of
Strathmore, the transition rocks make their appearance.
They consist of grey wacke slate, in which the shistose
character is more or less distinct, and the imbedded g'ains
of quartz more or less numerous. In this slate numerous
elliptical masses of jasper occur, in some cases extending
to 30 feet in length, and 10 in breadth. The slate like-
wise contains nests of slate spar. Compact felspar occurs
in beds of considerable magnitude, of a reddish brown co-
lour, and a conchoidal fracture. Several varieties of trap
rocks also present themselves, under the forms of green-
stone and basalt. Limestone also occurs of a darker co-
lour, of a less-crystalline structure than the primitive lime-
stones, and is much traversed by veins of quartz and lime-
spar. The older members of this formation alternate with
the newer portions of the primitive class, and constitute the
fundamental rock of the flostz class, which we are now to
consider.

The floetz rocks of this district, although they present
great variety of composition, may all be referred to the old
red sandstone formation of Werner, as red sandstone is
the prevailing rock. The red sandstone is, in some cases,
fine grained, and answers for architectural purposes; and,
in other instances, it passes into gravclstonc, or a rock
composed of water-worn pieces of the more ancient strata,
imbedded in a basis of sandstone, or ferruginous clay. The
sandstoiie is frequently in the form of slates, or flags, and

lORlARSHlllE.

199

is much used for the roofing of houses and pavement.
Limestone is likewise common in this district, and in seve-
ral places is quarried, and burnt for economical purposes.
It is commonly in the form of limestone conglomerate, a
condition which appears peculiar to tlie limestones of the
old red sandstone formation. Besides these rocks, there
are extensive beds of traji, provincially termed scurdie,
under the form of greenstone, basalt, amygdaloid, wacke,
clinkstone, felspar, and porphyry. These rocks are tra-
versed by veins of limespar and lieavy spar, and frequent-
ly contain traces of cofijier ores. These floetz rocks rest
upon those of the transition class ; and, at their southern
extremity in Fife, support the strata of the coal formation.

The alluvial strata, as may be expected from the varie-
ty of surface, are very diflerent in appearance and compo-
sition. On the summit of the Grampians, there is either
a light giavelly soil, formed from the decay of the primi-
tive rocks, or tlic moisture of the air in those elevated re-
gions has so far aided the growth of the tribe of plants
termed Alusci, that extensive strata oi /leat muss have been
formed even on the summit of the highest hills. This
substance is likewise common in the inferior districts, in
those places where lakes have formerly existed. As an
article of fuel, in a country where there is no coal, it is of
first-rate importance. Marl, principally of the kind term-
ed shell marl, is very common in Angus. It is found in
beds imder peat moss in old lakes, and is extensively em-
ployed as a manure. When laid on grass ground, it pro-
motes the growth of clover, rye grass, and other nourish-
ing plants ; but when employed as a manure for raising
grain, it is found to thicken the husk, of oats in particu-
lar, in a remarkable degree. The shells in the marl, are
those which are still to be found in plenty in the neigh-
bouring pools and ditches ; Lymnea putris, Planorbis alba,
and Cyclas cornea. The prevailing soils are light, gravel-
ly, and of a red colour. Strong clay soils rarely occur.
The soils derived from the trap rocks are usually fertile,
of a dark colour, and by some would be termed loam.

There is perhaps no county in Britain, where plants have
been investigated with such laborious industry, and such
happy success, as the county of Forfar. It was the birth-
place, and latterly the permanent residence, of the late Mr
George Don, whose knowledge of the localities and habits
of the plants of Scotland, and of Forfarshire in particular,
■was never equalled, and who added more new species to
the British Flora than any of his botanical predecessors or
survivors. I'rom liis list of the native plants of Forfar-
shire, published along with the agricultural survey, where
a scientific botanist will find a storehouse of facts, we ex-
tract the following observations. On the mountains of
Clova, the botanist will find a rich harvest of the rarest
kinds of alpine plants; the Saxifraga ftedatifida, Ranuncu-
lus al/iestris, Eriojihorum gracile, Salix ruftestiis, Hieraci-
■um divaricatum, and Potentilla opaca. Among the crypto-
gamous plants, he will find the Grimmia Domiiana, (named
after Mr Don, who first observed it,) Dicraiium pygmaum,
Lecidea/umosa, Urceolaria diamarla. In the lower grounds,
he will find the Juncus Pursteri, Allium carinatum, Hyp-
num crista-castrcnsis, Riccia fruticulosa, and Jungermannia
.scalaris. On the sea shore, he will meet with the Elymus
nrciiarius, Curex divisa, Allium umpelojirasum, Equisetum
variegalum.

The zoology of Forfarshire presents fewer varieties than
its botany. Mr Don has given along with his list of plants,
a list of the animals of Forfarshire, which is respectable in
point of magnitude, but in point of accuracy cannot be de-
pended upon, as his knowledge of animals was vague and
inaccurate. Among the quadrupeds, we may mention the
hedgehog, to prove, that it extends farther north in Scot-

land tiian Mr Pennant was aware of, for he restricted its
northern limits to the river Tay.

Among the birds, we may number the dottrel, (C/iara-
drius jnorinellus,) which visits the foreground of the Gram-
pians about the beginning of April, and continues about
three weeks, before going to the high muirs to Ijreed. It
returns about the beginning of August, and after resting
again for three weeks, it retires to the south, and is not
seen again until the following spring.

Among the mollusca, we may notice the Unio margari-
tifcra, or pearl-bearing mussel, as being found in the al-
pine rivers ; and in the rocks on the shore, the Mya sitbov'
bicularis. The sands of Barrie furnish the Echinus pusil-
hts; and the sea tathe, adhering to the lobster cages, will
yield the student of nature the Sertularia lichenastrum and
dumosa. ~

2. Civil History. — In ancient times, this county was
united with the Mearns, and seems to have received the
name of Horestia from Tacitus, in consequence of the
mountainous aspect of its northern boundaries. It was,
however, disjoined from the Mearns by Kenneth II. about
the year 838, and bestowed upon his brother ^Eneas ; and
from this circumstance, it was termed Angus. But as
Forfar is the county town, it is now more generally known
by the name of Forfarshire. It is at present divided into
fifty-six parishes, distributed into five presbyteries, which
meet at Forfar, Dundee, Brechin, Meigle, and Aber-
brothick. These five presbyteries, together with the
presbytery of Fordun, constitute the synod of Angus and
Mearns.

The greatest part of the estates are here held by char-
ter from the crown, and arc termed freehold. In some
cases, the property holds of some proprietor or corpora-
tion, and in this case the granter of the charter is termed
the superior, and the holder of the lands the vassal or
feuar. But in this county, the superior claims no right
to the personal services of his vassal, who merely improves
his waste grounds, and in return obtains a grant of a per-
petual lease. Leases of twenty or tliirty years duration
are frequently granted, convertible at the option of the oc-
cupant into a feu, upon payment of double rent at any time
during the currency of the lease. Many estates in the
county are held under deeds of entail. The object of these
deeds is no doubt to keep up a name, but they reduce the
proprietors to the condition of mere liferenters, chill all
ardour for improvement, and hurt in no inconsiderable de-
gree the interests of the country. The valued rent, by
which the right of freehold and other public matters are
regulated, amounts in sterling money to 14,303/. From
the best information which Mr Headrick could obtain, it
appears that in 1808, the gross rent of lands, woods, quar-
ries, fishings, &c. in the county, and including farms in
the natural occupancy of the proprietors at a reasonable
valuation, amounted to

i. 208,924 15 3
Estimated value of house rents . . . 95,872 0 6

Total rent from fixed property . . . Z. 304,796 15 9
The number of freeholders at present on the roll,
amounts to about 113. There are five royal boroughs,
Forfar, Dundee, Abeubrothick, MovruosE, and Bre-
chin. (See these articles.) Before the Union, each burgh
sent one or more commissioners, according to its wealth
and population. Since tiiat time, Forfar and Dundee have
been united with Perth, Cupar in Fife, and St Andrew's,
in choosing a representative ; while Aberbrothick, Mon-
trose, and Brechin, have been joined to Inverbervie and
ATjcideen. The mode of proceeding is as follows : Each
town council having fixed upon the person it wishes to

200

FORFAIJSIIIltE.

represent llicm, sends a delegate to the returning borough
instrucUcI to vote fur liim. Each town is the returning
borongli by rotation, which it is of the greatest importance
to gain, because in case of a division, where only four are
joined, it lias two votes.

The population of Forfarshire, in 1808, amounted to
24,087 families, containing 45,461 males, and 53,666 fe-
males, making a total number of 99,127 souls. In the year
1811, the population had increased 8451 ; and at that pe-
liod amounted to 107,578. The cause of the excess of
i'emalcs in die preceding enumeration, must be sought
lor in the numbers of young men who enter the army and
navy, and seldom again return. This population is em-
ployed principally in the three great springs of our na-
tional resources.

The number of hands employed in the puisuits of agri-
culture, may fairly be estimated at 20,000, without taking
into account tlie great numbers who are occasionally em-
ployed in seed-time and harvest, and in weeding and hay-
making during summer. About two-thirds of the county
are considered arable, a 26th part under woods and planta-
tions, and the remainder either consisting of mountainous
pastures or sandy wastes. The farms vary much in point
of size, some scarcely exceeding 20 acres, while others ex-
lend to 800 acres. The rent is by no means in proportion
lo the quantity of ground occupied ; and therefore we se-
lect Ihq following statement from Mr Headrick, to point
out the relative value of the different farms, arranged ac-
cording to the rents paid.

Number of farms whose yearly rent is under 20/, 1574

Do. from so/, to 50/ 565

Do. from 50/. to 100/ 682

Do. from 100/. to 500/ 315

Above 300/ 86

Total number of farms, 3222

The farm-houses of this county were formerly mean and
V retched ; now they are neat and comfortable. The butt
and the ben have been exchanged for more fashionable,
and, in this instance we must admit, more convenient apart-
ments. Some of the houses are still built of clay, which,
when properly wrought, is no mean substitute for stone
and lime. In general, however, they are built of red sand-
stone or whinstone, and sometimes roofed with thatch, or
blue slate, or sandstone flag. On a farm of from 100 to
200 acres, there is a dwelling-house built with stone and
lime, of two stories, often lathed and plastered on the in-
side. The offices commonly form three sides of a square,
built of the same materials, and of size corresponding to
the extent of the farm. The ordinary duration of a lease
is 19 years, and in some cases two years longer. The rents,
in general, are paid in money : where grain is paid in rent,
it is usually converted into money at the fair prices. In
many parts, the farms are under the most judicious ma-
nagement, while, in some of the higher districts, ancient
prejudices and habits still prevail. It would be difficult to
enumerate the different kinds of grain raised in the county,
any farther than by barely specifying the kinds. Wheat has
been long cultivated here, and formed a considerable por-
tion of the rent paid to the ancient monastery of Aberbro-
Thick. It has been known to weigh 17 stone 3^ pounds
l-",nglisli, per lioll. White wheat is the variety generally
preferred; red wheat, although it yields a heavier crop, is
more liable to disease. Spring wheat has been tried, but
vit.i'iut success. Bear, here called Chester, still occupies
the higher districts, and has been displaced by another spe-
cies, probably its inferior in several essential qualities.

Barley is universally cultivated in the best improved iWa-
iricls. It sometimes weighs 22 A stones Dutch, per boll.
It is in common use as barley-meal and as pot-barley. Oalu
are here raised in considerable quantities. Several kinds
arc cultivated, such as the common or Angus oat, Blains-
lie oat, barley oat, polatoe oat, Dutch oat, and the grey oat,
which last at least is a distinct species. The potatoe oat
has been known to weigh 17 stone Dutch, per boll. Rye
is cultivated only on thin sandy soils, which are unfit for
raising the more l.ulky and profitabjc crops ; such occur
at Montrose, Panbiidc, l}airy,and Monifieth. I'lux is still
raised in the county in considerable (piantity, although not
to the extent which might be Qonsidercd expedient. Ilemp
is never even attempted. The manures principally em-
ployed arc, farm-yard dung, lime, marl, and sea-weed.

The ancient breed oi horses was the small sheltie or gar-
row, and this breed still remains nearly pure and unmixed
among the Grampian mountains, where nunibeis of horses
arc required to convey home from the mountains winter
fuel, and to perform other operations, where theie are
either no roads, or those very steep and rugged. In the
lower districts, bordering on the Grampians, these have
been greatly increased in size, in consequence of being
provided with belter food and warmer shelter. In the more
fertile districts, the Lanarkshire breed prevails. It is cal-
culated that there are 9000 horses in the county, and these
are estimated at 220,270/. The blac/c cattle are principally
the old Highland kind; and, where attention is paid to the
dairy, the more improved breeds have been introduced.
Among the Grampians, from four to six Scots pints of milk
each day is the usual quantity ; and, in the more fertile dis-
tricts, from eight to ten pints is the general average. Hhecfi
abound in many districts of the county. The mountain
sheep, in an unmixed state, may be found among the Gram-
pians. The black-faced or Linton are more numerous.
Besides these, small flocks of the Bakewell, the Culley, or
the Cheviot breeds, are to be seen in the parks of the gen-
try. At least two breeds of swine are found here, which
may be regarded as natives. Rabbits are by no means at-
tended to as their importance demands. The roe and the
stag still exist in the county ; and the fallow deer has pro-
lection in one park.

The manufactures of this county are numerous and im-
portant. Among these, the manufiiclure of linen stands in
the first rank. On an average there are about 1 1 millions
of yards stamped annually, the greatest part of which is ex-
ported from the county. Dependent on the manufacture
of linen, are several extensive bicachficlds and spinning
mills. The county likewise possesses several excellent
harbours, as Dundee, Aberbrothick, and Montrose. There
are two custom-houses, the one at Dundee, having the ju-
risdiction of the ports in the Tay up to Newbury ; and ihe
one at Montrose has the supeiintcndance of the port of
Aberbrothick. To the port of Dundee belong 147 ves-
sels; to Aberbrothick 56, and to Montrose 67. The whole
tonnage of the county amounts to 21,859 tons.

The coast of Angus abounds with every useful variety
of esculent fish. The cod, the haddock, the flounder, and
turbot, arc in abundance ; and yet the quantity taken is by
no means great. In the Tay, salmon are caught in consi-
derable numbers, and sent to the London market packed in
ice. Lobsters are obtained on different parts of the locky
coasts.

There are many excellent roads in Forfarshire; and
there are abundance of materi ils fur keeping them in re-
])air. The only bridge deserving of notice is tiie one over
the North E'sk, which connects the paiisli of Montrose
with the county of Mearns. It was built by subscription,
to which govcrnmeni granted very liberal aid.

FORFAR.

201

P'or farther particulars, the reader is referred to the
liev. Robert Edward's Deecrijition of Jngus, first pub-
lished in 1678, and republished at Dundee in 1793. Colo-
yel Iniric's "Section of the Grampians," Trans. Royal
Soc. of Eclin. vol. vi. The Rev. James Headrick's ylgri-
cultural Sui-i'ey of Jngiis, 1813. Dr Fleming "On the
Rocks near Dundee," Mem. ll'er. Soc. vol. ii. (j. fg.)

FORFAR, a royal borough, the capital of the county of
Angus or Forfar, stands in the great valley of Strathmore,
of which it commands a very rich and extensive view to
the west ; and the prospect is terijiinated by the Sidlaw
and Grampian mountains, some of which may not be less
than 50 miles distant. In all writings respecting the pa-
tronage, tithes, kc. the parish is designed i^or/ar Restenet.
The latter is the name of a priory, two miles distant from
the town, and formerly surrounded by a lake, which is now
drained; the name of which is supposed to be expressive
of the purpose for which it was built, viz. as a safe reposi-
tory for the charters of the monastery of Jedburgh.

In ancient times, Forfar was honoured with the residence
of majesty. The ruins of a palace, or castle, are still to
be seen on the top of a movuit, which rises about 50 feet
above the level of the plain. Here Malcolm Canmore held
his first parliament, in the year 1057, immediately after the
recovery of his kingdom from the usurpation of Macbeth.
A figure of the castle, cut in stone, forms the device of the
sea! of the borough, though nothing but rubbish now re-
mains on the spot where it once stood. The lake of F'or-
far, formerly stretciiing two miles in length from east to
■west, and half a mile in breadth, and covering the palace
on the north, afforded a plentiful supply of water, and add-
ed to the strength of the place. About 50 years ago, this
lake was drained of 16 feet perpendicular depth of water, by
which a very great quantity of moss and marl has been
gained yearly. About a mile in length, and a quarter of a
mile in breadth, of various depth, from 2 to 22 feet, still
remains, and adds much to the beauty of the town. This
lake proved fatal to the murderers of Malcolm II. in the
year 1036. Having perpetrated the bloody deed in the
castle of Glammis, about five miles distant, tiicy attempted
to cross the lake upon the ice, which gave way under
them, and they all perished. Their bodies were after-
wards found ; and it being ascertained that they were the
murderers of the king, they were hung on gibbets by the
highway.

During the usurpation of Cromwell, a detachment of his
forces pillaged the town, and burnt all its public records.
By that wanton deed, every written memorial of its antiqui-
ties perished. The only charter which the town now pos-
sesses, is one granted by Charles II. after his restoration,
confirming all its former rights and privileges. One me-
lancholy evidence, however, of the ignorance and supersti-
tion of the times, still remains. From the record of trials,
it appears, that nine women were condemned and burnt
here for witchcraft betwixt the year 1650 arid 1662. The
•witch -bridle, as it is called, by which they were led to exe-
cution, is still preserved. It is made of iron, in the shape
of a dog's collar, with two pikes on the inside. The pikes
were put into the mouth, and the collar tightly buckled round
the head. To the collar is affixed an iron chain, by which
the unhappy sufferers were conducted to a field adjoining
to the town, which is still pointed out as the place of their
execution. Another remarkable fact in the history of this
borough is, that it obtained an act of the Scottish parlia-
ment, in the reign of James VI. changing the weekly mar-
ket-day from Sunday to Friday. At what time it was
changed from Friday to Saturday, is not known.

The borough is governed by a provost, two bailies,
twelve councillors, and four deacons of crafts, who repre-

VoL. IX. Part I.

sent their respective corporations. AH are chosen annu-
ally, and the council thus constituted consists of nineteen
members. In order to the election of these olRce-bcarers
for the year, some days before Michaelmas each magis-
trate names five burgesses, who, with the four new dea-
cons of craft elect, make up the number of nineteen addi-
tional electors; and by these thirty-eight the new magis-
trates and council are chosen. It may, and ol'ton does hap-
pen, that the number of electors falls short of thirty-eight,
or twice nineteen ; because, if any of the old members die
before the end of the year, and if one or more of the old
deacons be re-elected, there are no substitutes for them on
the new list. But if all the old nineteen be alive, and if
four new deacons be elected, the number of electors must,
by what is called the set of the borough, amount to thirty-
eight. The twelve councillors may be annually re-elected ;
the provost and bailies too may thus be members of council
for life. None of them, however, can be elected to the of-
fice of magistracy oftener than three successive years in
one series. But, after having been one year out of office,
and returning to the rank of common councillsr, or private
citizen, each may be re-elected for a new series of three
successive years.

The council has the privilege, in conjunction with the
town councils of Dundee, Perth, St Andrews, and Cupar in
Fife, of electing a representative in parliament. The re-
venue of the borough is from 800/. to 1000/ It is the seat
of a presbytery, and of the courts of justice; and the place
where the freeholders and commissioners of supply meet
for transacting the business of the county. On a muir ad-
joining to the town, several fairs are held throughout the
year, which are well frequented ; the cuslom of which was
many years ago purchased by the town council from the
Earl of Strathmore. From Martinmas to Candlemas, a
weekly market, free of cuslom, is held on the street every
Wednesday, for the sale of fat cattle ; and during the seed
time there is one weekly, on the same day. for the sale of
work horses. These tend to increase the revenue of the
borough, while they afford much accommodation and bene-
fit to the surrounding neighbourhood.

Manufactures have in this town kept pace with their
progressive improvement in every other town in the coun-
ty. About the year 1745, the manufacture of Osnaburgh,
or brown linen, was introduced. From a very small begin-
ning, it has grown into a considerable trade, is now the sta-
ple manufacture, and for many years past has contributed
greatly to the prosperity and rapid increase of the popula-
tion of the town. The history of the introduction of this
manufacture is curious. It was brought to Forfar by a
gentleman, who afterwards acquired by it a comfortable in-
dependence. His brother, a weaver in Arbroath, about the
year 1738, having got a small quantity of flax, unfit for the
kind of cloth then usually brought to market, made it into
a web, and offered it to his merchant as a piece on which
he was willing to lose. The merchant, who had been in
Germany, instantly remarked the similarity betwixt it and
the fabric of Osnaburg, and with difficulty prevailed upon
the weaver to attempt other pieces of the same kind. The
experiment, however, succeeded to his wish ; and a com-
pany was soon afterwards established at Arbroath, for the
purpose of conducting the new manufacture, from whence
the discovery was brought to Forfar. Of late years, Osna-
burg, of the best quality, denominated Strelitz, have been
manufactured for the London market, with sheetings of all
breadths, British duck, Germans, &c. The quantity about
2,500,000 yards annually, the average value of which may
be estimated considerably above 100,000/.

Forfar has been long celebrated fer brewing good beer.
About twelve years ago, one establishment was formed, and

C c

202

FOR

afterwards anotlier, for brewing porter. These have suc-
ceeded well. For two or three years past, indeed, on ac-
count of the high price of barley, less business has been
done than for years prccedina;. But now, when grain is
likely to assume a lair medium price, it may reasonably be
expected that those breweries will extend their trade, as
formerly, beyond tlic sui)ply of the town and its immediate
neighbourhood.

Various other improvements have of late years been
carried on, which have coiilril)Utcd to the embeilishment
of the town, while tliey evince the public spirit of the in-
habitants. Among these we may mention a botanic garden,
the work of the late Mr George Hon, wlio was well known,
and justly celebrated in the botanic world.* One of his
sons is said to inl^erit his genius, which had also received
some culture under his cure. The garden is replenished
■»viih a great variety of rare indigenous and foreign phaits.
A nursery, too, of about nine acres, under the care of an
intelligent and active proprietor, is an ornament to the town,
and promises to be extensively useful to planters, being
filled with all kinds of fruit and forest trees, and situated in
the middle of a rich and improving country. A large and
eonimodious church, on an elevated situation, was built in
1T90, which accommodates from 2000 to 3000 hearers;
and last year (1814) it was ornamented with a steeple ISO
feet high, which arrests the eye of the traveller in every
direction, and is deservedly admired as a very elci^ant
structure. The population of the town and countiy parish
is about 5600. A small soi ieiy of Scottish Episcopalians,
and anollur of Antiburgher Seceders, form the only dis-
senters ; and it is worthy of being recorded, that not fewer
than 2 '.00 annually partake of the Lord's supper in the
established church. There are three public schools ; two
endowed by the magistrates and council, and one by them
and the heritors of the parish. They are now to be placed
in systematic arrangement, under the care of one of the
teacliers as rector; and accommodated with a suit of new
apartments, which will form an additional ornament to the
borough, and exhibit an additional proof of the good taste
and public spirit of the managers of the public funds.

Forfar, from its inland situation, fifteen miles from the
coast, is subject to many disadvantages; but if a canal to
Arbroath, some years ago projected, shall open an easy and
cheap access to the sea, it may rise to a degree of prospe-
rity which it has not hitherto attained, ^a. f.)

FORFEITURE. See L.\w.

FORGE. See Iron.

FORMIC Acid. See Chemistrt.

F'ORMOS.'^, called by the Chinese Tai-ouan,-f and by
the natives Kaboski and Gadavia, is an island subject to
China, lying between 22" and 25° North Lat. and between
S"" and 5° East Long, from Pekin. It is situated about 30
leagues from the coast of the province of Fokien ; and is
above 80 leagues in length from north to south, and nearly
28 in breadth from east to west. Though lying within so
short a distance of the continent, it does not appear to have
been known to the Chinese till the year 1430, nor for many
years afterwards did they avail themselves of the discovery.
It was merely visited in 1564. by the commander of one of
their squadrons, when he subdued the little islands of
Pongho, which lie about midway between it and China. In
1582, a Spanish ship sailing from Macao to J.ipan, was
wrecked on the coast, and brought the first accounts of the
country to Europe. About the year 1620, a Japanese
squadron left a party on the island, in the view of return-

• See FORFABSHIRE, p. 199.

■\ T.n-ouan, signifies ihe chief of ten thousand, in allusion probably to the number of small islands in its \-ieinity ; and Formosa was a
name given by the Portuguese, on account of Uie beautiful appearance of the country.

ing to cfTf-ct its subjugation; but, in the mean time, a
Dutch ship having touched there in its course from Japan,
it appeared to be so eligible a station for a commercial t s-
tablishment, that they built fort Zealand in 1631, and thus
secured possession of the principal harbour. Iji 1661 they
were driven from the settlement byth.' celebratm C.iinese
pirate, Tchin-tclii-kong, or Coxinga, (See China, Vol. VI.
Part I.) who made himself master of ihe western part, and
held the sovereignty of the islsnd during his life; but, in
1682, his grandson Tchin-ke-sun, subniitted to the authori-
ty of the emperor Kang-hce; and the island, since that
period, has been tributary to China. By a chain of moun-
tains running from north to south, it is divided into two
parts, called the western and eastern piovinces, the latter
of which is still occupied entirely by the native Indians,
and the former contains the settlements of the Chinese.
It is subject to the Viceroy of Fokien. but a governor with
a large detachment, generally of 10,000 men, resides con-
stantly on the island. Tai ouan, the capital city and the
scat of government, is situated on the south-west coast in
23° North Lat. and 3° 32' 50" East Long, from Pekin. It
is a large and populous place, full of trade, and equal to
several cities of the first class in China. The streets are
remarkably straight, about 40 feet broad, and some of thetn
a full league in length; but they are"badly paved, and the
houses meaidy built of clay and bamboo, and thatched with
straw. On account of the excessive heat of the sun, the
streets are covered, duriuR seven or eight months of the
year, with awnings, which leave nothing to be seen but the
shops on either side, in which various kinds of merchan-
dize, ranged with the greatest order and show, present a
lich appearance to the eyes of the passenger. The town
has no walls or any kind of defence, unless a large edifice,
built by the Dutch, and proteced by four demi-bastions,
may be considered as a fort. The harbour is good, but
its entrance is becoming daily more difficult. The c;?y is
said to contain every necessary of life and article of traffic;
both foreign commodities, such as Chinese and Indian
cloths, silk stuff's, porcelain, and European goods; and also
the productions of the island, cotton, hemp, rice, sugar, salt,
tobacco, dried stags flesh, fruits of all kinds, and abundance
of medicinal herbs.

The western province contains, besides the capital, a
number of smaller towns and populous villages, in which
the Chinese permit none of the native inhabitants to reside
along with them, except those who act in the capacity of
slaves or domestics. It appears that the Chinese popula-
tion of the island would increase with great rapidity, if the
government would permit free emigration from other parts
of the empire; but permission to new settlers is granted
with great caution, and only upon the payment of a consi-
derable sum for the proper passports. The reason is, that
the Tartar emperors are always apprehensive of a revolt
among their Chinese subjects; and the proximity of this
island to China, would render it a favourable field for the
operations of malcontents. The district, which the Chi-
nese possess, consists of extensive and fertile plains, water-
ed by numerous rivulets, which flow from the mountains
towards the east. The climate is temperate, except when
the sun is vertical, and tlie air is serene and pure, cooled
even in the hot season with constant breezes. The soil is
in general mountainous, but naturally productive. Besides
most kinds of grain, which it yields in abundance, there
are found in the country the principal Indian fruits, such
as oranges, bananas, cocoa-nuts, guavas, pa paws, pine ap-

FORMOSA.

20i

pies ; and many of those which are common in Europe,
particularly peaches, apricots, figs, grapes, pomegranates,
water melons; cinnamon, sugar, jjcppcr, campliire, tobac-
co, are also among tlie ordinary productions of the country;
and the mountains contain mines of gold, silver, copper, and
sulphur. There is no good water to be found in the whole
island ; and strangers are said to sutler greatly from its bad
qualities. There are few horses, sheep, goats, or hogs, on
the island ; but the inhabitants breed a great number of
oxen, which they train for the purpose of riding; and be-
ing early accustomed to this kind of service, they are said
to go very securely and expeditiously. Domestic fowls
are reared in great plenty. The finest deer wander in large
herds through the country. Tygers, leopards, monkeys,
and every kind of game, abound in the forests ; and the ri-
vers furnish abundance of fish.

The Indians inhabiting the western division are entirely
subject to the Chinese governor, and pay a regular tribute
in grain. They compose about forty-five villages, most of
which are found in the more northern quarter of the pro-
vince. In each village is stationed a Chinese officer, whose
duty it is to learn their language, and to superintend the col-
lection of the impost ; but these agents of the government
often act in such a tyrannical manner, as to occasion the
defection of the inhabitants, who have sometimes been dri-
ven to unite themselves with the independein tribes in the
eastern part of the island. Even those which are most
submissive to thtir invaders, siill retain some of their an-
cient institutions ; and in every village three or four of the
most upright and intelligent old men are chosen as judges
and rulers, who have the power of determining all disputes,
and disobedience to whose decisions would be punislied by
perpetual banishment from the commimity. In these vil-
lages subject to China, and which are the most populous,
there is a great degree of civilization ; and the houses are
built and furnished after the manner of the Chinese. They
are clothed with the skins of the stags which they kill in
hunting ; and wear on their heads caps of a cylindrical
shape, made of palm leaves, ornamented with a succession
of crowns one above the other, and surmounted with plumes
of feathers from the cock or pheasant. The dress of the
women exactly resembles that of the men, except that
their clothes are longer, and their heads moic furnished
•with finery. But the southern or eastern islanders are
still in a most savage state ; and their habitations are mere
earthen huts, without any piece of furniture, having only a
kind of hearth in the centre, upon which they dress their
victuals. Tliey are remarkably dirty in their manner of
eating; and generally devour the flesh before it is half
dressed. Whatever they prepare is placed on a plain board
or mat; and having neither plates nor spoons, they make
use of their fingers for conveying it to their mouths. They
have no better bedding during night than fresh gathered
leaves ; and no other covering through the day than a piece
of cloth, which hangs from their middle to their knees.
They subsist chiefly upon rice and the produce of the
chase. Their favourite weapons are lances, which they
throw with the greatest dexterity and precision to the dis-
tance of 60 or 80 feet. They use also bows and arrows,
■with which they can kill a pheasant on the wing with as
much certainty as a European sportsman could with a
fowling-piece. They run with such surprising swiftness,
that they can almost outstrip the fleetest greyhound, a de-
gree of agility which the Chinese ascribe to a custom which
they have of confining their knees and reins with a close
bandage, till the age of 14, but which is, more probably,
owing entirely to their constant practice in hunting, and to
the estimation in which the qualification is held. Those
who are most swift and skilful in the chase, are distinguish-

ed by the honourable privilege of having figures of flow-
ers, trees or animals, punctured on their skin ; and the more
ordinary decorations consist in wearing bracelets, or crowns
made of shells and crystal, and in staining the teeth with a
deep black colour. The matrimonial connections of these
islanders are remarkably simple and unconstrained, espe-
cially when compared with those of their Chinese neigh-
bours, and are left entirely to the choice and arrangements
of the young people. When a youth has fixed his aff'ec-
tions, he appears for several days with a musical instru-
ment in his hand, hovering around the place where the
young wotnan resides. If she is pleased with his personal
qualifications, she comes forth and joins him, when they
settle together their future union. They then give notice
of their intention to their parents, who prepare the mar-
riage feast, which is always held in the bride's habitation,
with whom the husband remains during life. He transfers
his filial duties to his father-in-law, and devotes himself to
the support of the new family, of which he has become a
member. Hence the natives of Formosa offer vows chiefly
for female children, who procure their sons-in-law to be
the support of their old age. These people are represent-
ed as destitute of religious notions and worship, and as
guided by the pretended predictions of a set of priestesses or
female jugglers; but other accounts seem to imply, that
they are not without some ideas of the soul's immortality,
nor so deficient in civilization and ingeimity ; and many of
them are said to retain a considerable portion of Christian
knowledge which had been communicated by the Dutch
settlers. There is, in fact, very little known respecting
the eastern, or, as it is sometimes called, the southern part
of the island and its inhabitants ; and the accounts both of
the Chinese and Dutch writers are filled with stories so
obviously fabulous, as to discredit their whole testimony.
Some of these accounts bear, for instance, that one of the
natives was seen, who had a tail above a foot in length,
covered with red hair, and resembling that of an ox, and
who declared that all the inhabitants of the southern dis-
tricts were born with similar appendages ; that the men
do not many till they are fifty years of age, and that their
wives are not suffered to bring forth children till they have
passed their thirty-seventh year, and should any of them
prove pregnant before that period, the priestess is summon-
ed to produce abortion by treading on their womb. One
of the most extraordinary of these histories, and wliich
was afterwards acknowledged by its author to be a mere
romance, was published about the year 1710 by the noted
Psalmanazar.

In consequence, it is supposed, of the sulphur mines in
the moimtains, which run across the middle of this island,
it is subject to frequent earthquakes ; and, in the year 1 "82,
one of these shocks was attended with so tremendous a
hurricane and swell of the sea, as to threaten the total de-
struction of the Chinese settlements. See Grozier's De-
scrifition of China, vol. i. ; Collection of the Voyages of the
Dutch East India Cojnfiany, vol. v. ; Du Halde's History
of China, vol. ii. ; and Univ. Mod. Hist, vol. viii. and x. {q)

FORRES, a town of Scotland, in the province of JIo-
ray, is situated on a rising ground, about a mile to the east
of the river Findhorn, and two miles from its mouth. The
houses are well built, but the town ^contains no public
buildings of importance. On the summit of Cluny-hill, a
quarter of a mile to the east of the town, a monument has
been recently erected to the memory of Lord Nelson. It
is a lofty octagonal tower, about 70 feet high, and having a '
base 24 feet in diameter. It is surmounted by a battlement
and a flag-staff. The castle of Forres was situated at the
west end of the town. About a quarter of a mile to the
north-east of Cluny-hill, on the road to Findhorn, stands

C c 2

204

FOR

the celebrated obelisk called Sweno's Stone, which is com-
posed wholly of sand stone, though it is said that there is
no quarry of the same stone nearer than fifteen niiles. It
is about 23 feet hii^h, 3 feet 10 inches broad, and 1 foot 3
inches thick, and is said to be 12 or 15 feet below the
ground. " On its east side," says the autiior of the Anti-
quities of the Province of Moray, " are several divisions,
each occupied by variously sculptured ornaments. At the
top are a number of beautiful Gothic ornaments ; and in
the first division underneath, are nine liorses, with riders,
marching in order. In the next is a line of warriors brand-
ishing their weapons. The figures of the tliird are now
much defaced. In the fourth, several men, armed with
spears, seem to guard a number of human heads under a
canopy; the bodies appearing to be piled upon the left of
the division. A body of horse appears in the tifth division,
and these are followed by men on foot; the first line hav-
ing bows and arrows, the other three swords and targets. In
the lowest division now visil)Ie, the appeal ance is of horses
seized, their riders licheaded, and their heads throsvn under
an arched cover. The west side of the obelisk is chiefly
occupied by a magnificent cross, and covered over witii an
uniform figure, elaborately raised, and interwoven with
great art and accuracy, having the appearance of Runic
knots. Under the cross ai'e two figures, supposed to re-
present personages of distinction, in an attitude of friendly
salutation. On the north edge, are some curious carvings,
below which are rows of human figures, hand in hand, in
apparent amity and confidence."

In order to prevent this monument from falling down,
several freestone steps were lately built round its base.
The Rev. Mr Cordiner, who has published an engraving
of this monument, supposes it to have been erected in com-
memoration of the peace concluded between Malcolm, king
of Scotland, and Canute, the Danish king of England, in
1002. Others have imagined, that it was erected in memory
of the assassination of King Duff"; and this opinion is con-
ceived to be strengthened by the discovery of eight human
skeletons laid along a trench, in a little green mount close
by the obelisk, supposed to be the assassins of the king.
On the declivity of Cluny's-hill, looking towords Sweno's
stone, there are obvious remains of extensive entrench-
ments.

The corporation of Forres is governed by a provost, two
bailies, and a dean of guild, who are elected annually; and
it enjoys the privilege, conjointly with Inverness, Nairn,
and Fortrose, of sending a member to Parliament. — Within
these few years, a subscription library has been instituted
by the inhabitants, and now contains a considerable number
of volumes. — The scenery on the river Findhorn, extend-
ing from the vicinity of Forres for nearly 20 miles up-
wards, is remarkable for its grandeur and beauty. The
banks are for the most part rocky, and richly wooded, with
every variety of form, and height, and inclination. For two
or three miles below, the rock is sandstone on each side,
and to this succeeds above gneiss and granite. The forest
of Darnaway forms the chief part of this scenery on the
left bank of the river; and opposite to it, on the riglit, are
the properties of Relugas, and I.ogie, and Altyre. The first
of these is matchless for its natural beauties, and has been
adorned with singular taste.

Three miles north of Forres, close to the shore of the
Moray Frith, there is one of the best examples of an inun-
dation of sand which is to be seen in the island. The sand
drifted from the shores of the Frith above, by the strong
west winds, is accumulated in hills of considerable size,
forming a chain about a mile, or a mile and a half in length,
and at some parts nearly a quarter of a mile broad. The
Jiills are often undergoing changes of form and height, but

have not for many years exhibited any tendency to general
diminution. About 60 or 70 years ago their increase was
very great, and very sudden, the inundation burying com-
pletely, in the course of a few days, the estate of Cubin.

Five miles east of Forres, is the heath which Shak-
speare is supposed to have intended as the scene of the first
interview between Macbeth and the weired sisters.

There are few places in Scotland better adapted for a
cheap and pleasant residence than this small town. Its
climate is excellent ; its markets are good ; it is abundantly
supplied with a variety offish from tlie neighbouring sea-
port of Findhorn, which is only five miles distant, and the
surrounding country is rich and luxurious, and abounds in
game.

The following is the population of the burgh and parish
in 1811 :

Number of inhabited houses . . 672

Families ...... 801

Ditto employed in agriculture . . 108

Ditto employed in trades, Sec. , . 295

Males 1225

Females 1700

Total population 2925

See Account of the Antiquiiii:s, ^c. of the Province of
Moray, p. 33. {j)

FORT. See Fortification, and Forts, Vitrified.

FORT-AUGUSTUS. See Inverness-shire.

FORT-WILLIAM. See Inverness-shibe.

FORT-GEORGE. See Inverness-shire.

FORTAVENTURA, or Fuerte-Vextura, is the
name of one of the Canary Islands. It is about fifty miles
long, and from eight to twenty-four broad. The island is
very low, and narrow in the middle, and is almost cut in two
by the sea. The portion south of the ishmus is mountainous,
sandy, and barren. The portion to the north of the ishmus
is also mountainous, but contains several fertile and popu-
lous districts. The villages are here so numerous, that the
traveller no sooner loses sight of one than he discovers
another.

The principal towns in the island are. La Villa, the capi-
tal, which is situated to the north of the ishmus, and con-
tains 100 houses ; Oliva, situated in the middle of a fertile
plain, and containing fifty houses; and Tunche, which con-
tains about 100 houses. On the east coast there are three
small sea ports, called Langla, Torrafata, and Pozzo Negro.
A great quantity of goat milk cheese is made in the island,
which breeds 50,000 kids, each of which weighs between
forty and fifty pounds.

For an account of the history, agriculture, commerce,
and productions, of the Canary Islands, see Canary Islands.
The position of the western point of Fortaventura, accord-
ing to solar observations, is West Long. 14° 31' 15", and
North Lat. 28° 4'. {j)

FORTH, (including the arm of the sea generally called
the Frith of Forth,) is the name of the largest river of Scot-
land, and that which has the longest course, rising on the
north side of the mountain Ben Lomond, and discharging
itself into the German Ocean in 55° 34' of North Latitude.
The Forth, near its source, receives a small stream, and is
then called Avondow, or the Black River; and, on enter-
ing the parish of Port, receives the name of Forth, which is
said to signify the same. Soon afterwards it-.expands into a
beautiful lake, from whence it is precipitated over a per-
pendicular rock, 30 feet high, and flows with a smooth
winding course from Gartmore to Stirling bridge, 33 miles,
though only 20 in a direct line. Thence, having received
a considerable accession in the waters of the rivers Teith,
Allan, and Dovan, it gradually enlarges to 4 miles in width

FOKTH.

205

at liorrowstoiiniicss, but exhibits (lie most siiigulur and
beautiful sinuosities in traversing a level plain, called the
Carse of Stirling, where 21 miles occupied by its channel
are no more than 6 miles in a straight line by land. It is
next narrowed to less than two miles, by the sudden pro-
jections of headlands from the two Qucensferrics on its
opposite sides, below which a regular expansion, little in-
terrupted, (the Bodotria of the Romans, and now named
Frith of Forth,) is resumed down to Fifeness on the north,
and St Abbs Head on the so\ith, where it meets the tlerman
Ocean. Between these two points the distance is between
35 and 40 miles. The direct course of this river is scarcely
less than 100 miles; but its sinuosities do not traverse a
shorter space than 200. Its depth from Sterling bridge to
the moutli is from 3 to 37 fathoms, or moie ; between Inch
Garvie and the North Ferry it is 35 ; and somewhat further
•west, opposite to Rosyth castle, wheie tlie breadth is 3000
yards, it is 21 fathoms, whence it gradually shallows up-
wards. Part of the bottom is here covered with sleech or
mud, 20 feet deep, deposited on freestone. The tide flows a
mile above Sterling bridge, or between 70 and 80 from the
sea in a straight line, until it is interrupted by a rock across
the channel, where stream tides rise live feet. It flows and
ebbs regularly twice in twenty-four hours ; but the flood
and ebb run about two hours" longer in the middle than
along the shore, and it rises at most about four fathoms in
a stream. Besides this, however, there are particular cur-
rents, or irregularities, above Queensferry,and particularly
from Culross to Alloa, or, beginning at the mouth of the
river Carron and Borrowstounness, continue downwards.
These irregularities consist in an intermission of the tide
during the flood ; and before high water the sea ebbs. On
the contrary, while the sea ebbs, and before low water, the
ebb intermits, and a flow commencing continues some time ;
after which the ebbing is resumed until low water. This
is seen during two hours, and the irregularity occupies
more of the river, according as it is spring or neap tide.
These irregularties are well known by the name oileakies.

The principal rivers tributary to the Forth are, the
Goodie, rising in the Loch of Monteith, the Teithand Allan,
above Sterling bridge; and below it, the Dovan, Carron,
Avon, Almond, Leith, Esk, Leven, Tyne, and others. There
is, besides, a communication, by means of a navigable canal,
with the river Clyde, which preserves an intercourse be-
tween the east and west coasts of Scotland.

It would take a long time to describe the natural pro-
ductions of the Forth, and hitherto they have met with veiy
little attention. Various cetacea, from 20 to 60 feet in
length, migrate here from the northern seas; and whole
shoals of grampuses have accidentally stranded themselves
on the shores. We learn from history, that five or six
hundred years ago they also frequented this river. The
porpoise is constantly seen tumbling in the water; one
specimen of the beluga, or white whale, was killed in 1815,
near Stirling : the sun fish is occasionally taken ; and the
opah, or gold fish, has also occurred. But there are others,
the constant source of valuable and productive fisheries ;
such as salmon, herring, haddock, turbot, and oysters. A
great salmon fishery is carried on at Stirling, which sup-
plies all tlie neighbourhood, and allows a quantity for ex-
port. Salmon is so abundant, and so easily obtained at this
part of the Forth, that the inhabitants of Stirling were, dur-
ing a long time, provided with it at the rate of three half-
pence a pound, which became a particular privilege, nor is
it long since it was abrogated. Two fisheries on a smaller
scale have recently been established on the south side of
the river, at Abercorn, and near Queensferry, and their
produce chiefly transmitted to the capital ; and a third was
attempted near the first, which had sonic success, at Black-

ness castle. Vast .shoals of heriing resort periodically to
the I'orth, and aflbrd employment to many hands in their
capture, as well as ample suljsiblciice to the poor ; but they
are neither so large nor so much esteemed as those taken
on the west coasts of Scotland. Nevertheless, their cheap-
ness, which is sometimes sixpence a hundred, is of incal-
culable benefit to a large city, where there are many indi-
gent inhabitalits, as well as to the towns on the coast, which
in general possess little wealth. The herring fi.ihery,
which has rather dccline^l of late from the uncertainty of
success, is carried on from the mouth of the river to six or
eight miles above Queensfeiry. Haddock, cod, and turbot
fisheries, are principally lower down than Lcith. Skate,
flounders, and halibut, are common ; turbot is obtained in
sufficient quantity to supply Edinburgh market at prices
not immoderate, that is, from four to ten shillings, accord-
ing to size and scarcity ; but most of it goes to London.
Some time ago, contracts were made for turbot, at two
shillings each when taken, to be carried thither. Soles also
inhabit the sandy bays of Aberlady and Musselburgh, but
are seldom caught. This being ascribed to the unskilful-
ness of the fishermen, an experiment was made by others
purposely brought from places noted for it ; but, after re-
peated trials, the fishery was given up. To judge by the
shells thrown up on the coast, an extensive portion of the
Frith is inhabited by oysters; and, accordingly, many valuable
oyster beds are resorted to, for the most part to the east-
ward of Leith. There is little doubt, however, that there
are others for several miles westward of it. Great quanti-
ties of oysters are consumed ; for it is a favourite kind of
food, both in the sea-port towns and in the country ; aiid
there are particular rules observed in dredging, and in re-
jecting those of insufficient size. The beds themselves
belong todiflerent private proprietors ; but some have been
totally exhausted from injudicious management. The con-
sumption of oysters is so great in the metropolis, that there
are certain regulations established for conducting the mar-
ket. Mussels are also collected in quantities along the
shores ; and while oysters are sold by numbers, they are
sold by measure, at so much per pint.

Many of the mollusca tribes, besides the two latter which
we have alluded to, inhabit the Frith ; and probal)ly the
majority are yet non-descript. Medusa:, actiniae, nereids, arc
seen in great variety and beauty ; and conchology has still
to i-eceive accessions in the history of the shells which may
be recovered her-e. Little need be said of the ornithology ;
for, except in the wild fowl resorting hither during winter,
and in the numbers of solan geese frequenting a small rocky
island called the Bass, tliere arc tio peculiarities. Few
phocae are seen but on some of the i-ocks, and occasionally
near the shore.

The minerals are more important. At first, the course
of the Forth is thi-ough deep clay, and near impassable
mosses. Expanding towards the east, it approaches vast
strata of coal, beds of lime and ir'onslone, found alike on
each side of the river; and some of these are not only on
the banks, but penetrate far under its bottom — so far, that
it is reported the workmen from the opposite coasts can
hear each other's opei-ations below, where it is more than
three miles wide. Neither is this so improbable as might
at first sight appear ; for the coal workings from the north
at Culi'oss are said to have been carried two miles under
the Forth; and from Borrowstounness on the south, they
penetrate 1700 yards. The principal mints are in the
neighbourhood of Alloa, which exports 35,000 tons an-
nually ; Culross, Borr-owstounness, Torryburn, Inverkeith-
ing, Dysart. Some of these mines have been open above
five hundi-ed years, and have been carried to great extent.
John Taylor, the water poet, who published an account of

206

lORTII.

his travels in 1618, expresses great admiration of the en-
trance to one ol" the Culross mines by a pit far within hij^jh
water mark. The mouth of tlie pit was delended by a
strong ciicular bulwark, which likewise scrve<l as a pier
for vessels to load imn\cdiatc-lv from the mine itself, with-
out land carriage. But, during some very tempestuous
season, the bulwark either yielded to the violence of the
waves, or the rising tide ovcillowcd it, so as to render the
mine useless ever since. It is said, tliat King James V'l.
having, by more than an ordinary cflbrt of courage, pene-
trated tiiis mine from the land side, where there was also
access, and being conducted to the mouth of the pit, where
he suddenly beheld himself surrounded by the sua, loudly
exclaimed, treason ! treason ! but an attendant, pointing to
an elegant bark anchored here, endeavoured to dispel his
fears; and the king preferred being carried in it directly
ashore, to descending within and icturning below ground.
At the end of a reef stretching a mile from the shore of
Torryburn, an engine has been erected, which, as its walls
are environed by the rising tide, appears an isolated tower
in the middle of the river. In addition to the home con-
sumption, great quantities of coal are exported from both
sides of the Forth, both coastwise and to distant countries.
Lime is wrought to a great extent on many parts of the
banks of the river, from the parish of Aberfoyle, near its
source, downwards; but the principal quarry is at Charles-
town in Fife, 12 miles north-west of Edinburgh. Several
hundred persons are continually employed there; and the
lime is exported in numerous small vessels from a harbour
beside the kilns to different parts of Scotland. Being of
the best quality, it is applied equally to building and the
manuring of ground. In some places, the limestone rock
abounds with entrochi, and, being sufficiently hard to ena-
ble it to receive a polish, is used for ornamental purposes,
tinder the name of Fife marble. There is abundance of
ironstone, either scattered about the shore in loose nodules,
or dug from pits. It has partly been sent to Carron, and
partly to tlie English founderies ; but the expence of ob-
taining or collecting the loose nodules or septaria, has hith-
erto greatly diminished tlie profit that would otherwise re-
sult froiTi this very rich sort of ironstone. Pieces of fine
jasper, pebbles, granite, and petrifactions, occur on many
parts of the shore.

There are several rocks and islands scattered throughout
the lower part of this river, where it has expanded into a
frith, of which Inch Garvey, Inch Colme, Inch Keith, the
Bass, and the Isle of May, are the principal. On the top
of the first, which is barren and rocky, stands a small fort,
with two inconsiderable pieces of cannon, and one invalid
soldier, who is stationed there in solitude six weeks at a
time. It was sometimes converted to a state prison of old,
but now belongs to a private family. This island, standing
in the middle of a strait, between the Queen's Ferries,
could efl'ectually prevent any hostile approaches higher up
the river. Inch Colme, which scarce exceeds half a mile
in length, and is narrow, enjoys greater celebrity; for one
of the kings of Scotland, having escaped imminent danger
while he found an asylum on it, shewed his gratitude to
Divine Providence, by erecting a monastery here in the
year 1123. Its picturesque ruins are still extant. Soon
after the commencement of the late war, in 1793, a battery
of heavy guns was constructed on Inch Colme, which, it
was supposed, would command the deep water of the
Forth, but no opportunity has been afTorded of trying their
effect, which those who consider themselves well acquaint-
ed with the navigation of the channel have doubted. The
island abounds in rabbits, and belongs to the family of Mur-
ray. Cramond Island, nearly opposite, on the south side, is
connected with the land at low water, but the access, unless

in a certain direction, is very dangerous, from deep mud
or quicksands. The island best known, at least to the in-
habitaiits of the capital, is Inch Keith, which lies about
half way between the coasts, and somewhat eastward of
l'>linburgh. It is between two and three miles in circuit,
of fertile surface, and has always been pastured. Circum-
stances have frequently rendered this inconsiderable spot
of importance, from an early date, either in civil or niili-
tary operations. In the year 1497, when the venereal
disease was making uncommon ravages in Edinburgh, and
was then, as in the rest of Europe, corisidercd a pestilence,
the magistrates directed that all persons inf(.cted with the
" grand gore" should repair to the sands of Leith, were
they should find boats ready to convey them to the island,
" there to remain, until God should provide for their
health." In the reign of Edward VI. the English sent two
expeditions equally destructive into Scotland, when Inch
Keith was taken and fortified. They were expelled by the;
Fiench, who erected fortifications on a larger scale, con-
sisting of a strong tower on the highest ground, with an
interior court, 100 feet in diameter, as also an external wall
of hewn stone, 20 feet high, and 9 feet thick, with Queen
Mary's arms sculptured on it, and a motto sa venue m'at-
tire; but the whole fort wgs afterwards demolished by
order of the Scottish parlimient. More recently, when a
Russian fleet lay in Leith roads, during the last war, there
was an hospital here for their seamen; and at present it
has a lighthouse for the safety of mariners. The Bass is a
lolly precipitous rock, with a conical summit rising from
deep water, within two miles of the southern shore of the
Forth near North Berwick, i'his isle, which is less than
a mile in circuit, is accessible only by a dangerous and
narrow pathway : formerly it was employed as a state
prison, and a small fortress upon it surrendered to Oliver
Cromwell. It was held in property by a private family,
and purchased by government in the reign of Charles II.;
but after most of the kingdom had submitted to the sove-
reignty of William, at the revolution, the fottress was held
out by a few of the abdicated monarch's adherents, which
produced an order for its demolition on their surrender.
The Bass is now in the hands of a subject, by whom it is
leased, for a rent which is indemnified by the innumerable
flocks of solan geese taken annually on it, (see Bass). The
Isle of May lies nearest the mouth of the Forth, and is
probably the largest of the whole, being nearly three miles
in circuit, and is situated six or seven miles south-east of
the town of Anstrutlier. It affords good pasture, and has a
pool or small lake of fresli water. Anciently this island
belonged to an English monastery, for the monks of which,
King David I. of Scotland founded a call or priory of the
order of St Augustine, and there was also a chapel dedica-
ted to St Adrian. The latter was frequently resorted to in
pilgrimages, and particularly on account of barrenness,
though not for that reason only, as Andrew Wood of Largo,
a celebrated Scottish mariner, held certain lands in Fife for
the service of piloting James IV. and his queen to St Ad-
rian's chapel. A lighthouse was erected here in the reign
of Charles I., which has undergone many successive im-
provements, and receives a duty from all vessels navigating
the river. Both it and the island being private property,
frequently changed their owners, and havijig lately passed
by mariage into the Duke of Portland's family, they were
purchased by the Commissioners for Northern Lights in
1814, for 60,000/. sterling, when affording a very considera-
ble revenue.

There are numerous towns and harbours along both
sides of the river and Frith of Forth, where trade and manu-
factures are carried on in various branches. Commencing
with Stirling, where it is crossed by a bridge of four arches,

FOR

207

the principal towns are Grangemouth, Borrowstoiinncss,
Queen's Ftiry, Leilh, Musselburi^h, Prestonpans, and
Dunlr.ir on the south side ; and on the north, arc Alloa,
Culross, Charlestown, Inverkeilhing, liurntisland, Kircnl-
dy, Uysart, Lcvcn, Pittenweeni, Aiistruther, Crail, uiili a
few of lesser note. The number of piers and harbours is
rot less than thirty; and some of thcni of expensive con-
struction, such as Leith, where there are considerable wet
docks ; there is a fine basin at liorrowstounness ; and at
Queeiisfcrry the most recent improvements have been
adopted. But storms from the east, attended with a tem-
pestuous sea, occasionally dainaj^e the harbours. Except-
ins^ Slirling and Ltilli, lew of the towns contain 2'JUO in-
habitants, and several of tliem not half that number. The
principal manufactures are of iron, salt, pottery, sal ammo-
niac, some bricks and tiles, and recently Roman cement and
alum have been fabricated at the village of Blackness. Tnere
is also linen made on the north side, along the coast of Fife,
and soap on the south side, together witn oil. Coal, lime,
and grain are the chief exports of natural products: but
foreign products are brought from the west by the great
canal, and carried eastward ; and there is a vast quantity of
artillery and iron manufactures exported from the Carron
founderies. The vessels belonging to the different ports
are mostly occupied in the coasting trade, but whole fleets
resort to the Baltic ; several vessels belong to the Green-
land whale fishery, and a few are engaged in West India
traffic. Independent of the manufactures carried on in
the vicinity of the river, cotton, linen, and muslin goods are
exported, and some groceries, wood, flax, and other com-
modities imported ; to receive the duties on all of which
there are custom-houses along both sides of the river. The
chief trade, however, is conducted on the same side with
the metropolis.

When the Romans invaded Britain, they found the
northern parts occupied by various barbarous tribes; and
to repress the incursions of those to the west, erected a
strong rampart, now called Adrian's Wall, from the Frith
of Clyde to the very banks of the Forth, where it terminat-
ed in the vicinity of Blackness Castle. Here a Roman fort
is supposed to have stood ; but in the reign of the Rooerts,
we learn from ancient record, that the site of the present
edifice was a receptacle of lawless banditti, and it was pro-
bably founded about that period. It is washed by the sea
en three sides, contains a deep well of fresh water, and, like
the two fortresses already mentioned, was frequently con-
verted to a state prison. Now, there are five unservicea-
ble cannon on the walls, of small size; audit is a place of
no strength, being commanded by several eminences. Never-
theless it has repeatedly been the subject of anxious com-
p&tition in the factious limes of old, and is preserved as a

fortification by tlic articles of the Union. A more modern
fort was erected between Leith and Xewbavcn, on the ap-
pearance of Paul Jones, a noted pirate, upon the coasts of
Scotlanrl ; and still more lately, a small battery at the
North Ferry. These, together with the baiteries before
mentioned, and a niartello tower, almost finished, at the
mouth of Leith harbour, constitute the principal defence of
the Frith.

Besides the navigation of the Forth, for the purposes of
trade, there are several regular ferries between the op-
posite coasts, from Stirling to Leith ; and packets sail fiuin
the latter harbour to different towns, as Aiistruther and Ely
on the coast of Fife. Three steam boats also began to na-
vigate from Leith upwards, in the year 18 U, affording a
cheap and commodious means of conveyance. But it has
been proposed, at various times, to facilitate the communica-
tion with the west still farther, by rendering the river na-
vigable from Stirling bridge to Gartmore, and to intersect
the different curvatures of the land to the east of Stirling
by a canal. According to an estimate, when this subject
was particularly urged in the year 1T74, by expending
13,236/. such improvements could have been made, as to
admit the navigation twenty miles in a direct line above
Stirling bridge, by boats filly or sixty feet long, thirteen
wide, and drawing three feet and a half of water : And the
navigation coulcl be carried downwards to Alloa, six miles
in a straight line, instead of the present windingsof the river,
through twenty-four. Advantage would doubtless have re-
sulted by putting the proposal into execution, but it was in
a great degree superseded by the canal between the Forth
and Clyde. Another project, much more singular, was
made in the year 1805, to connect the opposite sides of the
river by a tunnel passing under its bed. The passage be-
tween the ferries being frequently interrupted by storms,
and much difficulty being experienced in the transportation
of great numbers of cattle continually brought from the
north of Scotland, it was thought that such an expedient
would remedy these inconveniences, and it was patronised
by many intelligent persor.s. A spot, about half a mite
west of Blackness Castle, where the tideway is 3839 yards
in breadth, was considered the most favourable point for
the south entrance ; and the depth of water not exceeding
thirteen fathoms and a half, rendered it preferable to the
strait between the Ferries. A long time was employed by
engineers in sounding and boring ; but it appeared, on pene-
trating the bed of the river, that a sufficient roof coulcl
hardly be obtained for the tunnel, which, conjoineii with
other weighty objections, led to the dereliction of the pro-
ject. See Sir Robert Sibbald's Works. Statistical Ac-
count, vol vi. p. 21. Millar and Vazie on Tunnels. Knox's
View of the British Empire, (c)

FOilTlFlCATION.

FoRTiricATioN is the science that teaches the best me-
thod ot putting a town, citadel, or other military position,
in suidi a state of defence, as may enable a small number
within to hold out against the attack of a great number
from without, and to afford the besieged the best means of
annoying and cutting oH' the assailants, with the least pos-
sible danger to themselves.

The origin of fortification may be traced to the inequa-
lity that has always subsisted among difi"erent states, with
regard to military power. When a nation found itself at-
tacked by an ambitious and restless neighbour, that could
bring into the field either a greater force, or an equal force
with greater Tapidity, it would have recourse to a defen-

sive system of warfare, taking advantage of the moun-
tains,-rivers, woods, ravines, and other natural means of
protection, which the country afforded. In this way, a
very superior invading force might be defeated, or at least
kept in check a suflicient length of time, to allow the in-
vaded state either to march its own armies to the point of
attack, or to procure the assistance of other states, whose
interest it might be to support a weak neighbour against
the attacks of a stronger. Were the political divisions of
the earth so arranged, that the weaker states should always
have the advantages of mountains, rocks, marshes. &c. oa
their frontiers, their d^-ficieucy in military force; would be
in some measure compensated by natural fortifications.

208

FOIITIFICATJON.

But as considerations of a vei'y different kind liave gene-
rally regulated the partition of territory, smull states have
Dot unfrequently been destitute of all such advantages.
Unless, therefore, such states could supply, by artilicial
means, those bulwarks that had been denied ihcin by
nature, they must have been constantly at the mercy of
the first stronger power that chose to attack them. We
find, accordingly, that various kinds of artificial fortifica-
tions have been employed for purposes of defence ; and
that the construction of these has always been considered
as an object of the highest importance. It .is the only
means of placing a weak state on a footing with its neigh-
bouis, whether its weakness arises from a deficiency in
physical strength, or from the operation of moral causes.

The most obvious method of protecting an open country
from sudden invasion, would be to carry a wall round the
whole frontier. Of this species of fortification, is the great
wall that separates China from Tartary, and likewise the
Roman wall in the north of England, built for the purpose
of defei:(ling the southern part of the island from the sud-
den incursions of the Picts. But besides the insuperable
objection, that, in many cases, it was utterly impossible to
command the means of raising such walls, it was soon
found that the difficulty of guarding such an extensive line
rendered them of comparatively little use. Such methods
of defence were therefore soon abandoned, or rather were
seldom adopted, and, in their stead, detached fortifications
were constructed at particular points, and at a moderate
distance from one another. These forming a communica-
tion between the different commanding positions on the
frontier, were found to possess all the advantages of one
continued fortification, while they were constructed at
much less cxpence, and defended with infinitely greater
case. An invading army could not venture to leave these
places of strength in their rear, without the greatest dan-
ger of having their retreat cut off; and consequently a
country, possessing such fortifications, could seldom be
subject to sudden attacks. Nor is this the only advantage
that is found to result from such fortified places. By mak-
ing them depots for arms, ammunition, and other military
stores, they become the surest i^rotection of established
governments against rebellion or any internal commotion.
To the art of fonificalion, then, may perhaps be justly
ascribed not a little of that peace and good order among
mankind, which would otherwise be sacrificed to the law-
less ambition of despots, or the madness of factious dc-
magc^ues.

It is impossible to say at what time, or in what coun-
try, men first began to construct fortifications. In a rude
state of society, when weapons of attack were few and
simple, and when the success of war depended more on
the physical powers, than the skill of the combatants,
little ingenuity would be necessary to render a place im-
pregnable, whatever might be the force of the assailants.
An earthen mound, a deep ditch, or a single stone wall,
would probably be sufficient not only for protecting a
garrison against sudden attacks, but even for enabling it to
hold out against a regular siege. How long the art of
fortification continued in this simple state, we have no
means of ascertaining ; but it is evident, from various
passages of sacred history, that it had made considerable
progress in Eastern countries in the days of Moses, up-
wards of 1500 years before Christ. From these countries,
it probably travelled to the West, where it received great
improvements from the Greeks and Romans. By invent-
ing new methods of attack, these warlike states obliged
the besieged to adopt new methods of defence ; and thus
while they exercised their own ingenuity in the art of
war, they called forth that of the nations with whom they

contended. A single mound, or slonr wall, was soon found
to be altogether inadecjuate to resist the force of the en-
gines with which they were assailed. 'I'lic wall or rampart
was accordingly strengthened by towers erected upon it at
convenient distances, and from these the besieged were
enabled to defend the intermediate parts of the wall, which
they could not otherwise have doriC without exposing
themselves to the missile weapons of the enemy. Besides
these lowers, the rampart itself sometimes consisted of a
double or even a triple wall. Of this kind were the walls
of Jerusalem and Babylon.

The most obvious method of assaulting a fortified place
in rude ages, would be to construct an earthen mound or
counter foitification, from which the assailants could en-
gage with the besieged on equal terms. This method of
attack was probably coeval with the art of fortification
itself, as from the passages of sacred history to which we
have already alluded, it appears to have been common in
Eastern countiies at the time of the Israelites taking pos-
session of the land of Canaan. The same method of be-
sieging towns was adopted by the Greeks and Romans.
They constructed their circumvallation of turf, and, in
some cases, they were made double at an interval of fifteen
or sixteen feet. The interior wall was intended to preserve
them from the sallies of the besieged, the exterior to guard
them against the attacks of those who might come to the
assistance of the town. The space between the walls or
mounds was occupied with tents and lodges for the sol-
diers. These walls were surmounted with tiirrets, after
every tenth of which was a tower, extending from wall to
wall, and equal in height to the fortifications of the town.
After all, this method of attacking a place was better cal-
culated to starve it into a surrender, than to take it by
force.

Another, and perhaps a more expeditious method of
attack, was by means of detached mounds, or aggera^
erected opposite the weakest part of the fortification.
These aggera were constructed of all sorts of materials,
as wood, stone, earth, $<c. and gradually carried forward
till almost close to the walls. The besiegers were thus
raised to a level wiih their enemies, and sometimes suc-
ceeded in throwing bridges between the aggera and the
fortification, by which they stormed the place. Still, how-
ever, tliis method of attack was liable to a serious objec-
tion. The laborious nature of the operations necessary in
constructing even single and detached mounds, or aggera,
afforded the besiegetl time enough to strengthen such
parts of their rampart as were threatened, and thus de-
prived the assailants of no inconsiderable part of the ad-
vantage to be derived from their works. The invention
of moveable towers or turrets was therefore a very great
improvement in the art of attacking. These towers were
erected on wheels and rollers, by which they could easily
be moved from one place to another ; and, in point of size,
were proportioned to the height and strength of the place
to be attacked. In their most improved form, they con-
sisted of wood, and were so constructed as to be taken
down and carried about with the army as part of the bag-
gage.

But the great difficulty of attacking fortified places in
ancient times, did not consist in the prodigious labour, so
much as in the danger to which the besiegers were ex-
posed in constructing their outworks. From their situa-
tion, the besieged were enabled powerfully to annoy their
enemies, with comparatively little danger to themselves.
Huge stones, and other heavy bodies, thrown from the
ramparts, became formidable and destructive weapons,
against which the besiegers could find no protection in
the ordinary means of defence. It was to prevent the

FORTIFICATION.

20&

fatal effects of such weapons, that the icstudo was in-
vented. This consisted of a number of soldiers, arranged
in different forms accordipg; to circumstances, but all hold-
ing their shields aliove their heads, thus forming a canopy
or covering over those who were employed in the works
beneath. The testudo was also sometimes employed, for
the purpose of taking a place by storm, when the gariison
was not in a proper condition to defend itself. In this case,
the front rank stood upright, holding their shields before
them ; the second held their shields above the heads of the
first, at the same time stooping a little ; the third stooped
still more, holding their shields also above tl-.cir hands ;
and so on to the rear rank, which was in a kneeling pos-
ture, thus exhibiting the appearance of a tiled roof. On
this roof, another body of men was drawn up in the same
form, and protecting themselves in a similar manner. A
number of successive stories being thus constructed, those
that formed the highest were enabled to engage on equal
terms with the besieged, and frequently succeeded in get-
ting possession of the place.

In later times works were constructed, and attacks, made
on fortresses under the protection of covered ways, or ap-
proaches. These approaches were generally the work of
great expense and labour, being guarded on one side, and
sometimes also on the other, with a mound of earth, and
covered on the top with skins of animals, rafters, or bun-
dles of rods, called fascines. At the extremity of the ap-
proach was erected, as close to the walls as necessary,
either an agger, or a moveable tower, according to cir-
cumstances.

Such were some of the defensive works used by the
ancients in carrying on a siege, or in making a sudden
attack on a fortified place. Of their offensive weapons,
■we have already given an ample account under the articles
Arms and Artillery, to which we refer our readers. Of
the methods employed by the besieged for destroying, tnd
otherwise rendering unserviceable, the machines of the
enemy, we liave also spoken under the article Archi-
medes, where we took occasion to state our opinion with
regard to the wonderful power ascribed to the mechanical
inventions of that distinguished mathematician. V/e would
only observe farther on the subject of ancient fortification,
that mining seems to have been practised at a very early
period, and with considerable success, especially in des-
troying the towers and aggera of the besiegers. The
earth under these works being excavated, the place was
filled with combustible matter, and set on fire. The super-
incumbent earth was thus rendered friable, and sinking
down, the towers were overturned.

The invention of gunpowder, (anno 1330,) though ulti-
mately destined to produce a revolution in the system of
defending and attacking fortified places, was not immedi-
ately productive of this effect. When great guns began
to be first used, they were so rude and unmanageable, that
the battering engines of the ancients long maintained their
ground. Even so late as the beginning of the 15th cen-
tury, few towns had been regularly bond>arded, though
artificial fire works had been frequently used, sometimes
in the form of rockets, and sometimes fastened to birds
tails, for the purpose of setting fire to such parts of the
town or camp as were of a combustible nature. It was
a device of this kind, that proved fatal to the camp of the
Austrians before Saaz.

About the beginning of the 16tli century, the use of
great guns became more common, and their effects began
to be more apparent. The circumvallations of the be-
siegers gradually assumed the form of regular fortifica-

VoL. IX. Part. I.

tions ; and fortified places themselves underwent a con-
siderable change both in form and strength. We cannot
here enter into a detail of these changes, without suppos-
ing our readers to be acquainted with the principles of the
art, which it is the object of this article to explain. Ii
may, however, be observed in general, that the use of
modern artillery had not of itself the effect of shortening
the duration of sieges. The advantages of great guns,
especially after men had acquired considerable dexterity
in the management of them, were no doubt very great U>
the besiegers ; but they also afforded to the besieged a
powerful means of annoying the enemy. Besides, fortified
places were sometimes so successively strengthened, as
for a long time to defy even the force of the heaviest
ordnance. A wall at Magdebourg, received 1550 cannon
shot without sustaining any damage. The numerous in-
stances too, which history affords of long and unsuccessful
sieges, even after the invention of fire arms, prove that
this invention was not more advantageous for attacking
than for defending fortified places. The siege of an im-
portant place was almost decisive of the fate of the war,
and if not successful on the part of the besiegers, gene-
rally terminated in the loss of the greater part of their
army.

Such was the state of fortification, when, towards the
end of the l"th century, M. Vauban effected a complete
revolution in the art. This celebrated engineer invented
a new method of attack, against which no mode of defence
hitherto adopted has been able to hold out. Vauban hint-
self indeed soon discovered the superiority of his system
of attack to that of his defence, and, during the latter part
orchis life, endeavoured to restore the equilibrium which
he had destroyed. His disciples, as well as those who
differed in some points from him, continued to labour in
the same cause; but after all the changes and improve-
ments which they introduced into his plan of defence, it
was found, that they had done nothing to counteract the
power which had been put into the hands of the besiegers.
That power was soon pronounced to be irresistible, and at
the same time so regular in its operations, that the dura-
tion of a siege was calculated as easily, and in many cases
as accurately, as a question in dynamics. Such calcula-
tions applied to the operation of moral causes, may indeed
seem very absurd; but so deeply have engineers been im-
pressed with the idea, that it is utterly impossible to hold
out against the modern system of attack, that a siege
generally terminates after a certain progress has been
made by the besiegers, whatever may be the means of de-
fence which the garrison still possesses. Such a system
appears to be an agreement entered into among belligerent
powers, to deliver up to one another fortified places at a
certain price, and certainly has a tendency to suppress that
fortitude and determined spirit of resistance, which the
history of ancient, as well as of some modern sieges, has
proved to be the chief cause of a long and successful de-
fence.

In the remaining part of this article, we shall endeavour
to lay before our readers a complete account of the modern
plan of fortification, with the art of attacking and defend-
ing fortified places. In this account we shall take an op-
portunity of noticing the various improvements which have
either been proposed or actually adopted; and among
others, the plan of defence recommended by Carnot, who
has long been distinguished by mathematical, political, and
military talents, and well known for his famous defence of
Antwerp, in 181 J.

D d

210

FORTIFICATION.

PART I. ON THE CONSTRUCTION OF FORTIFIED PLACES.

SECT. I.

Pemanent Furli^cations.

Every fortified place is in ilie form of a polygon, more or
less regular according to circumstances. Tlic sides of this
polygon may be considered as chords of the arches of a cir-
cle desciibed about the place, and on tlie relative length of
these chords the strength of the place may, in particular
cases, very much depend. Tlie lines wliich form the plan
of the forlificalion, as descril)ed on the ground or on paper,
are called tne trace, and the height to which it is carried,
the rcli'J'

In Plate CCLVII. Fig. I, is exhibited the trace of a re-
gular fortification of five sides, in which DEFGH is called
the exterior, and KLMNI the interior polygon. The dis-
tance from A to the angle of tne exterior polygon is called
the great raditif!, and from A to the angle of tlie interior po-
lygon the small radius. The part containecl between two
radii, as EBCF, is called a front of the fortification ; and a
line dividing any of the works into two equal parts, as AE,
a cafiitat line. The fronts of fortifications consist of bas-
tioirs and curtains. A baxtion is the ])art about the angle
of the polygon, as VUFZC. The curtain is that part of
the font which joins the bastions, as BC In the bastion
VUFZC, the lines VU. ZC, are called the ^a7;X-.s ; .md
UF, FZ, the faces. B.istions whicli have no fhuiks, but
have their faces produced till they meet the curt.dn, arc
called redans This difference gives rise to the two me-
thods of fortification ; the Bastion system, and the system of
Tenailles, or perpendicular tortification.

When an angle is turned from liie place, as F, it is called
a saliant angle, and re-entering when turned towarc's the
place, as C. The angle I' is called the saliant, or flunked
angle of the bastion. U, Z, the angles of the sAou/r/fr; and
V, C, the angles o{ \.he Jlan/cs, or re-entering angles. In
redans, the angle formed by the face and the curtain is
called the flanking angle, or angle of the tenaille. When
the shoulders of the bastion are built in the circular form
P, Q, they are called orillons, or tours creases. The dis-
tance between the angles of the flunks, as VC, is called
the gorge of the bastion ; and CM, or MV, the demi-gorge.
A straight line, drawn from the saliant angle of one bastion
to the angle of the flank in another, as FB, is called a line
vf defence. If this line be drawn along the face, and pa-
rallel to it, it is called a razing defence ; and if the line
make an angle with the face, the defence is said to be
fichant, or oblique. When the line of defence meets the
curtain short of the extremity, the part of the curtain be-
tween that point and the extremity is called the seco?id
flank.

The whole circumference of the works about a town, as
represented in Fig. 1, is called the enciente, or eorfis de la
place. Other works have each a particular name ; but
they are in general called outiuorks. The chief strength
of the corps de la place, as well as of the outworks, is a
mound of earth called the rampart, and of which the trace
shows the thickness at the bottom. On the top of the ram-
part is raised another mound, called the parafiet, for the
purpose of covering the besieged and their guns from the
fire of the enemy. Behind this, are two or three steps
called banquettes, on which the soldiers stand when they
fire over tlie parapet ; and Iietween these and the town, is a
passage called the terreflcin, of sufficient breadth for the

movement of troops, and the conveyance of cavalry from
one place to another. The rampart is generally lined with
a wall, called a revetement, on the top of which is a pas-
sage round the paiapet of about two feet in bieadth, called
the luay of rounds. The sloping surf ice of a work is called
the cscar/ie. It it d'cliiii s lioiii ihe place ; and if it inclines
towaiUb it, the counteracarfie.

Before the rampart in all works, is a ditch called the
fosse, made by excavating the earth for the rampart. Round
the couiiterscarpc of this flitch, anf'. at t convenient (iistance
from it, is cut out a passage called c/iemincouvert, or the
covercd-vvay. From the pirai)el that defends this, the
ground declim s by a gentle slope towards the field, and is
called the glacis.

The command of a work is its height above the field, op
above some other work, and is not to be confounded v/ith
relief which is the height above the horizon. When a
fortification has only a partial command of the field, it is
called a razing fortification; and when it is mu' h elevated
above the ground it gets the n.ime of a high fire. If any
part of a fortification cannot be seen from the parapet, it
is called a dead angle.

The profile of a fortification, is a vertical section of the
works from the extreme boundary of the glacis to the town,
or the inside of the terre-plein. The object of a profile, is
to exhibit the altitude and depression, as well as the inter-
nal structure of the different parts.

Various rules have been laid down by dlfTerent writers,
for determining the most advantageous proportions of the
parts now defined. The following were given by Errard :

1st, Tliat the saliant angle of the bastion should never be
less than 60°, and always 90° when practicable.

2d, That a flanking and a Hanked part should be within
musket shot of one another, viz. from 700 to 900 feet.

3d, That every part of a fortification ought to be flanked,
or seen from some other part.

4tli, That all flanking parts ought to be so strong, as to
resist the force of ordnance.

5th, That all the works of a fortification ought to be so
proportioned in elevation, that the one nearer the place
shall be higher than the one before it.

Notwithstanding the excellence of these rules, however,
the trace of Errard was very defective. He left all the lines
to be determined by the constructor; the flank was given,
but varied with the sides of the polygon, and, on irregular
ground, was difficult to be traced. It was also too small,
and rendered less easy to be defended, from being perpen-
dicular to the face. Succeeding engineers corrected these
faults, by determining the various parts with more precision,
and on more accurate principles. The improvements which
followed, were adopted partly in one country, and partly in
another, and thus gave rise to the different methods known
by the French, Italian, Spanish, and Dutch. These me-
thods, however, may be considered as essentially the same,
the difference among them being chiefly in the saliant an-
gle of the bastion, and the form of the flank.

Whatever method of fortification be adopted, it is of im-
portance to observe, that all the works ought to be traced
out in the exterior polygon. If they are traced on the in-
terior, the different points will not be determined with the
same accuracy. Having premised this, we proceed to lay
down the rules for the most approved method of fortifying
as it is now practised.

The gorge of the bastion should never be less than from
160 to 200 feet wide, so as to afford a free communication

FORTIFICATION.

211

with the bastion, and room for mounting two or three
guns.

The length of tlie flank depends on the length of the line
of defence, and what it is reqnired to defend : but it ou.i^ht
never to be less tlian from 18U to 200 feet, and sliould be
perpendicular to the face which it is intended to flank.

The orillon should never be larger than to allow two or
three guns to be placed on tlie covered plank. If it be more,
it weakens the flank.

To increase the offensive power of the flanks, guns have
sometimes been placed in vaults cut out of the rampart be-
neath. These vaults are culled casemates; but they have
been objected to on account of their diminishing the
strength of the flank, their annoying the gunners ViiXh.
smoke, and being very expensive. To remedy these de-
fects, and, at the same time, to reap the advantages of an
auxiliary fire, lower flanks have been constructed before
tlie other flanks, and behind the orillons. In these, the
ordnance is covered by a parapet, and the ammunition is
placed in a vault under the parapet of the higher flank.
Compared with casemates, these lower flanks are undoubt-
edly an improvement, but, at the same lime, they certainly
diminish, in a considerable degree, the effect of the higher
flank; and it may therefore be justly questioned, how far
they are, in many cases, advantageous.

The saliant angle of the bastion ought never to be less
than 80 degrees, and if it could be made to exceed 90, it
\vould give to the whole work a still more advantageous
form. The flanked angle would be thus enlarged, the
flanks lengthened, the faces more parallel to the field, and
the bastions themselves might be at a greater distance from
one another.

The length of the faces is determined by that of the cur-
tain and the side of the polygon, but in no case ought to be
more than 350, or less than 230 feet.

The curtain should never exceed 500 feet, nor fall short
of 200.

The depth of the ditch or foss6 generally depends on the
nature of the ground, and the quantity of earth required
for the rampart. Its width must also be determined by
circumstances, but ought never to exceed 100 or 130 feet.
The ditch ought always to be dry when there are no out-
works.

The covert way is of great use in preventing the enemy
from approaching too near the ditch, and obliging them to
be more watchful in guarding their works, while, at the
same time, it enables the besieged the more easily to de-
fend their outworks, as well as to collect their troops in
safety when they intend to make a sally. The covei't way
is parallel to the counterscarpc of the ditch, and varies in
breadth from SO to 4S feet, according to circumstances. In
all cases, it should be of such a width as to allow the troops
to form and manoeuvre wiihout disturbing those who may
be defending it. In order to give every part of the fortifi-
cation a complete command of the glacis, the angle which
the plane of the latter makes with the horizon, ought to be
sucli, that if the plane were continued, it would pass
through the highest part both of the outworks and the en-
<<ceinte.

The space A' in the re-entering angle of the covered
way, is called a place of arms, of which the faces or lines
forming the saliant angle are from 60 to 100 feet in length.
A similar space in the saliant angle of the covered way is
called the saliant place of arms. Such places were found
to be of great use in defending the covered way, but were
soon rendered much more so by surrounding them with a
ditc'.i distinct from the covered way, and on the escarpe of
that ditch constructing a rampart for the defence of the
'men within. In this form, the work is called a dcmi-lune

orravelin,asADCB, Plate CCLVII. Fig. 2, The original
design of the demi-lune was principally to defend the gates
of the fortress and the bridge before them, so as to prevent
either from being taken by surprise. Cy enlarging their
size, however, they were found to be more extensively'use-
ful, and they have long been considered as essentially nc-
ccssai'y for ail curtains. Their principal advantages are,
obstructing the enemy's view of the bastion, and command-
ing the glacis, so as to prevent the erection of works in two
positions very advantageous for attacking both the flanks
and faces.

Some engineers have preferred placing the demi-lunes
before the bastions, as better calculated from their size to
retard the progress of the besiegers, and affording, from
their position, the means of fl.Miking the works constructed
by the enemy for attacking the faces and flanks. This po-
sition, however, is liable to several objections. It leaves
the gates, curtains, and even the flanks more exposed. The
communication with the rampart is less secure, and from
the difficulty of flanking them, the demi-lunes tliemselves
are easily taken. By modern engineers, they have accord-
ingly been completely rejected.

In the construction of demi-lunes, some have given them
their defence from the curtain, as ADC, Fig. 2. where EF,
GH are from 48 to 60 feet, and the faces of the ravelin 130
to 180. Others have taken the defence from the orillons,
as IDK, where the faces are from 200 to 230 feet. Some-
times also they have been constructed in the form LDM ;
but all these forms are inferior to v/hat will be described
afterwards.

Demi-lunes are surrounded in the same way as the en-
ceinte, with a ditch and covered way, the former beintj
from 48 to 60 feet wide.

A second enceinte, called the Jattsse-brave, has some-
times been constructed around the first, having a terre-
plein of from 16 to 24 feet on a level with the field, and
defended by a parapet. This work doubles the fire of the
enceinte, and, from its low and grazing direction, affords
a better defence to the covered way and fosbe- It scarce-
ly holds out, however, for any length of time after the gla-
cis is taken, and is besides liable to many objections. It
assists the enemy in mounting a breach, and the deserters
in making their escape ; affords shelter to the enemy's re-
inforcements, and covers their miners while at work. It
was formerly much used by the Dutch, but in modern for-
tifications is seldom adopted.

The method of tracing out a foi'tification as described
above, has imdergone many changes, and received consi-
derable improvements since the time of Errard. Of the
engineers who immediately succeeded him. Pagan occu-
pies the first place. That writer having v/itnessed all the
wars of Louis XIII. soon perceived that the method of de-
fending a place, had by no means kept pace with the art of
attacking, and was, in consequence, led to introduce con-
siderable changes into the position and arrangement of the
different works. He fortified on the exterior polygon, the
side of which he determined to be from 900 to 1 150 feet.
F'rom the middle point of the side, he erected a pei-pendi-
cular towards the centre of the place, fi'om 120 to 170 feet.
Lines drav/n through the extremity of the perpendicular to
the angles of the polygon determined the faces, which he
made from 170 to 340 feet. The ditch was parallel to the
faces, and 90 feet wide, and the faces of the ravelin were
directed to the angles of the shoulders. The ditch before
the ravelin was 55 feet, the covered way 30, and the faces
of the jilaces of arms 48 to 60. He also laid down as u
rule, that the line of defence should not exceed 750 feet,
terminating at the extremity of the curtain, and at right
angles to the flank.

D d 2

212

FORTIFICATION.

Vauban, wlio may be regarded as the father of the pre-
sent system of attack, also made considerable improve-
ments in the method of defence. In his trace, the perpcn-
dicular is determined by the length and number of the sides
in the polygon. If the enceinte be a scjuare, the perpen-
dicular is one eighth of the side; if a pentagon, one se-
venth ; and if a hexagon or upwards, one sixth. The fa-
ces are determined as in Pagan's method, and arc made
equal to two-sevenths of the side. The flanks arc at right
angles to tlie line of defence, and the orillons, which arc
curved outwards, one third of the flanks. The most ad-
vantageous length for the side of the polygon is fixed at
1250 feet, and 1000 for the line of defence. This construc-
tion possesses considerable advantages over the method
adopted by Pagan. It can be more easily adapted to local
circumstances, as all the parts diminisli v/ith the side and
angle of the polygon. The flanks have an advantageous
position, and the bastions are more spacious.

Vauban also introduced a change in the construction of
cavaliers or mounds of earth raised above the rest of the
fortification, for the purpose of commanding a distant part
of the field. Formerly these had been placed in the cur-
tain and various other parts of the fortification, and were
sometimes used for defending the ditch. In these posi-
tions, however, they were found to embarrass the manoeu-
vres of the sbldiers. Vauban, therefore, enlarged their
size, and placed them in the bastions, whence they could
more effectually defend the cuitain. Tiiey are traced thus :
A parallel, 36 feet from tlic interior of the parapet, de-
notes the exterior side of the talud or slope of the escarpe,
and 18 or 20 feet farther back, is drawn the fire-line or in-
terior side of the cavalier. In small bastions, the talud is
almost perpendicular, and the earth is prevented from fall-
ing down by a revetement. This revetement, however,
ought in no case to be higher than the parapet of the bas-
tion, that it may not be seen by the enemy, and that the
garrison may not be injured by the splinters. It is also a
disadvantage attending cavaliers of this kind, that they
prevent the bastion from being intrenched farther back.
Nor is this defect remedied by carrying a parapet, as some
engineers have done, from the cavalier to the bastion, and
constructing a ditch before it, as such a parapet is destroy-
ed as soon as a breach is made. A more advantageous
method of constructing cavaliers will be given in a subse-
quent part of this article.

The improvements which Vauban introduced, were not
confined to the enceinte alone. He also made several ad-
vantageous alterations in the construction of outworks,
though, it must be admitted, that he left not a little to be
done in this way by his successor Carmontaigne. The
first outwork used by Vauban, is the tenaille aC t, Plate
CCLVII. Fig. 3. It is placed before the curtain, and se-
parated by a ditch sufficiently large to receive the earth
that may fall from the curtain, and which miglit otherwise
fill the terre-plein. Of course it, in a great measure, su-
persedes the use of the fausse brave. In his first tenailles,
Vauban used flanks, as b e, g/, though they were after-
wards omitted. In constructing tenailles of this kind, A i,
ef are parallel to the curtain, the first at ! 6, and the last
at 60 feet distance ; a k., 1 1, 30 feet from the flanks of the
bastion; a 5, ;.§-, equal to one-half of a C or r C ; and the
flanks b e, gf, parallel to those of the bastion. Having
determined a be, and t gf, there are drawn parallel to
these, and at the distance of 54 feet, ak h and t li for the
interior side of the terre-plein. Thus the terre-plein of
ihe faces and ilanks of the tenaille is 30 feet, but that of
the curtain only 18.

In constructing tenailles without flanks, which are found
'o bo mo?t advantageotis. the flanks being easily destroy-

ed, the faces a b and t g arc continued till they meet oppo-
site the centre of the curtain. By this form, the tenaille
is not enfiladed, and the besieged may retain it even after
the fosse is taken. The form would be still farther im-
proved, if, instead of forming an angle a C «, it were paral-
lel to the curtain. It would thus afford a direct fire on the
terre-plein of the ravelin, and allow the ditch to be made
larger.

The tenaille answers several important purposes. It
covers the sally ports of the curtain and flanks, by which
the besieged communicate with the ditch ; preserves a
communication with the ravelin, and secures the retreat
of those who defend it ; protects the men in the fosse
when dry, and the boats when wet; affords a razing fire
on the enemy when crossing the ditch, and covers the re-
vetement of the curtain to a certain height. It is also of
great use in case of a breach being attempted in the cur-
tain, which is generally done v.hen the resistance is obsti-
nate.

Some engineers make no ditch between the curtain and
the tenaille ; but this is obviously an error, as the earth,
falling from the curtain into the terre-plein of the tenaille,
would greatly facilitate the operations of the enemy in
making a breach; and the communication with the body
of the place would also be more ditlicult, that communica-
tion being chiefly by vaults, which ought to be covered by
the parapet of the tenaille.

In constructing ravelins according to Vauban's method,
the faces produced terminate on the angle of the shoulder,
if the bastion has flanks with orillons ; but if the flanks are
straight, the faces of the ravelin terminate on those of the
bastion 30 feet from the shoulder. The object in both
cases is to cover the flanks completely, and to give the
faces of the bastion a better command of the ditch before
the ravelin. The angle formed by the face of the bastion
and that of the ravelin ought to be as acute as is consistent
with the best defence. In Vauban's method, this angle is
always obtuse, and the face of the ravelin was at first equal
to one fourth of the side of the polygon. Finding, how-
ever, that the shoulders were still very much exposed, he
enlarged the angle by extending Jhe faces of the ravelin
to one third of the side of the polygon, and making them
terminate on the faces of the bastion 90 feet from the shoul-
ders. He sometimes also used flanks to his ravelin as ofi,
sufficient for mounting two guns, taking q fi equal to 42
feet, and /i 0 equal to 60. Tliese flanks, however, are of
little use, as they are easily enfiladed by the enemy, and
afford little protection to the curtain.

Formerly the faces of the ravelin terminated on the
counterscarpe of the ditch, in the re-entering angle of
which a small harbour was constructed for the boats that
were used to keep up the communication between the ra-
velin and the place. In this form, however, the back part
was found to be easily enfiladed, and now the faces termi-
nate on the lines Am, Bw, drawn from the saliant angles
of the bastion to the end of the terre-plein.

As an inducement to hold out in defending the ravelin,
which is too frequently given up without necessity, Vau-
ban constructed reduits within the ravelin. These con-
sisted at first of a single wall, two feet thick, and from
six to seven feet high, and were intended to cover the gar-
rison in retreating from the demi-lune in case the latter
were taken. They were of the same form as the demi-
lune, their faces being 80 to 120 feci, and their flanks,
where the ports were, 30 to 48 feet. They were separated
from tlie terre-plein of the demi-lune by a ditch 12 to 16
feet wide.

When large demi-Iunes were invented, reduits were con-
verted into second demilunes, having faces 100 to 150 fefer,

FORTIFICATION.

213

and separated from the first by a foss^. This work lias
been found very useful in defending the breach, as well as
the passage of the ditch. The width of the ditch before
the curtain is from 100 to 130 feet, round the bastion 100
to 110, and before the ravelin 60 to 80. The saliantjjurts
of all ditches are circular, described from the saliant an-
gle of the work with a radius ecjual to the width of the
ditch.

But the greatest of all Vauban's improvements was in
the covered way. He constructed the places of arms with
faces from 72 to lOO feet, and forming an angle with the
covered way of 100 degrees. He also constructed tra-
verses or parapets across the covered way, which pre-
vented the latter from being enfiladed, and secured a re-
treat to those who were defending it. Tlie traverses were
perpendicular to the counterscarpe, and 90 to 100 feet dis-
tant from each other. A coupure or passage round these,
sufficient to let two men pass together, was cut out of the
glacis. By these improvements, simple as they may ap-
pear, Vauban contributed not a little to the great object
of all fortification ; an object that the older engineers some-
times lost sight of, that of enabling a garrison to prolong
its defence.

At a later period, Vauban's method of constructing out-
works was considerably improved by Carmontagne. By
enlarging the reduit, he diminished the terre-plein of the
demi-lune, which in Vauban's system was too large. He
made the ditch between the demi-lune and the reduit 55
feet, and constructed the latter so as to make its flanks
about 55 feet, terminating in the same way as Vauban's.
He also constructed larger works in the places of arms.
The principal of these was a reduit D, of which tlie faces
r s, su, formed a very obtuse angle, and the flank v, pre-
vented the part of the covered way behind from being en-
filaded. These flanks serve also to take the enemy in the
rear when attempting to ascend the breach in the demi-
lune.

Ravelins might be still farther improved, by increasing
the saliant angle so as to lengthen the faces ; but as that
angle ought never to exceed 60 degrees, the most advan-
tageous form for a ravelin, is an equilateral triangle. The
advantages of the ravelin, however, depend not a little on
the angle of the polygon. The larger that angle is, the
farther will the ravelins extend into the field, and of course
the greater will be their command. This, indeed, is the
principle on which all the modern improvements in forti-
fication are founded, and for the illustration of which we
are chiefly indebted to St Paul, the inspector general of
the French fortresses. We say ittustratioii, for tlie disco-
very, we believe, is due to ?.IonlaIembert and Belidor, par-
ticularly the latter.

The practice of enlarging the angle of the polygon has
been adopted by succeeding engineers, not only from the
advantageous position which it gives to the demi-lune, but
also because it is found to form the strongest possible en-
ceinte. The proper application of this principle, and the
late improvements in the construction of works in the
places of arms, constitute the chief merit of the modern
system of defence.

In IVIontalembert's method there are no bastions, but
merely saliant and re-entering angles, the former 60 and
the latter 90 degrees. His lines of defence, that is, the
lines containing the angles, are from 300 to 550 feet.

In the preceding part of this article, we have consider-
ed the trace merely as a suite of lines, without regard to
the thickness of the works which these lines represent.
We shall now proceed to lay down the dimensions of the
different parts, as they have been determined by the most
skilful engineers.

The terre-plcin of the rampart ought to be of such a
breadth as to permit the soldiers to manoeuvre, and eflec-
tually to resist all attempts to make a breach in it ; at the
same time, if it be too wide, it is much exposed to the
enemy's fire, occupies more space than can be spared from
the other works, and becomes very expensive. By some
old engineers it was fixed at from 55 to 70 feet, a bi-eadth
often impracticable, and in all cases useless. Pagan re-,
duced it to 25; but unless the quantity of artillery be very
small, and the guns seldom require to be removed from
one place to anotl:er, tiiis space is too narrow. A piece
of ordnance after being discharged, recoils from 18 to 25
feet, according to its calibre and the nature of its mount-
ing. The breadth of the terre-plein, therefore, cannot be
less than from 33 to 40 feet, without embarrassing some
part of the service. Perhaps 35 feet is the best me-
dium.

To prevent the rain lodging upon it, the surface of the
terre-plein should incline towards the town at the rate of
one inch of perpendicular descent in every foot of breadth.
It ought also to be planted with rows of trees, particularly
oak and elms, for the purpose of supplying wood for the
artillery engines and carriages. The mass of the rampart
is to be finished towards the town by a talud or slope, not,
however, so steep but that the soldiers may ascend it with-
out being obliged to go round by the ramps or passages
leading up to the terre-plein. Between the houses and the
rampart, there ought, if possible, to be a street 14 to 20
feet wide ; and if there is not space sufficient for this other-
wise, the inner side of the rampart may be made more
nearly perpcftdicular, and be supported by a revetement.
It is always inconvenient to have houses close to the ram-
part, and ought therefore, if possible, to be avoided.

Engineers have difl"ered in opinion with regard to the
construction of bastions, some recommending the full,
others the empty. The former are those in which the
ground within is level v.'ith the rampart, the parapet only
being higher ; the latter are such as have the ground con-
siderably lower. The empty bastions, it is said, afford fa-
cilities to the garrison for carrying on their mines, and the
interior space is well adapted for magazines. The full
bastions, however, are now generally preferred, except in
cases where there is a scarcity of earth, as they arc better
calculated to resist an assault, while in the empty bastions
the magazines are much exposed to the enemy's shells, and
the entrenchments within are incapable of a great resistance.

The principal v.'ork constructed in the bastion, as for-
merly mentioned, is a cavalier. The most approved form
of this work is represented in Plate CCLVII. Fig. 3. where
E, F denote the terre-plein of the bastion 36 feet in breadth,
w X y !i line parallel to the faces of the bastion, and form-
ing the escarpe of the faces of the cavalier, from which it
is 30 to 36 feet distant, and GHI the parapet. The cou-
pures znv, zij are perpendicular to the faces, and 20 to 30
feet distant from where the face of the ravelin terminates
on the face of the bastion. These coupures cover the
terre-plein, from which alone the work can be taken. The
communication between the cavalier and the interioK, is by
means of steps behind the faces, so placed as to be cover-
ed from the enemy's fire.

Another kind of cavalier called a barbette., is sometimes
constructed in the saliant angle of the bastion, a's a, ex-
tending about 36 feet along the faces. The terre-plein of
the barbette is about 2 J lower than the parapet of the bas-
tion ; 24 feet in breadth, and has ramps at each end, for
bringing the guns upon it. The chief advantage of the
barbette is, thattlieir fire may be directed to any point where
it may be most cfi'ectual in annoying the enemy.

As the object of the parapet, in ail works, is to cover the

214

FORTIFICATION.

besieged on the rampart, it oviglit to be of a sufficient
bci!j;lit and tliickucss tor that purpose. It has been found
that a twtnty-l'our pounder fired against a parapet, at a
short distance, penetrates about 11 feet in hard ground, 13
in middling, and 16 in loose earth. A paiapct therefore
ought to be from 18 to 20 feet in thickness. Tlie prac-
tice of rnising the revetement as high as the parapet is
now abandoned, and the exterior talud or slope is finished
with gazons or turf, having a base equal to its height, or
half its height, according to the nature of the materials.
Tlie interior of the saliant angle is sometinies made circu-
lar, to admit a greater number of men than it could other-
wise do. The height of the parapet above the terre-plcin
ought to lie 7 feet 6 inches, and the banquette about 3
feet; that is 4 feet 6 inches lower tlian the highest inner
edge of the parapet. When the banquette is higher than
2 feet, it ought to be provided with steps for the soldiers
to ascend. Its breadth should be about 4 feet, to allow
two ranks of soldiers to act. As a banquette is not on all
occasions useful, it may sometimes be sufficient to have a
mound of earth behind the parapet, ready to be construct-
ed should it be necessary.

In order to give the fire of the garrison a complete com-
mand of every part of the field, and the enemy's works, the
parapet lias a slope outwards. To determine this slope,
which is called the plojige, is always a problem of great
importance. If the parapet be too level, the guns of the
garrison cannot be brought to bear on such of the enemy's
works as are very near ; and should the slope be very great,
it weakens the upper part of the parapet. The plonge,
that is the vertical difference between the interior and ex-
terior edge of the parapet, should not therefore if possible
exceed IS inches, but, at the same time, it ought to be so
constructed as that the garrison may completely command
the covert way and glacis.

The guns of the garrison are fired through openings in
the parapet, called embrasitres. These openings are not
■made when the parapet is at first constructed, but are ge-
nerally left to be cut out as the position of the enemy's
batteries and other circumstances may require. The form
of embrasures has undergone various changes, but that
now generally adopted is from six to nine feet in width
towards the field, and from 16 to 18 inches towards the
place. The best method of supporting the sides of the
embrasures is by means of saucissons or large fascines.
Wood and stone are sometimes used, but are dangerous
on account of the splinters. The part of the parapet be-
tween two embrasures is called a merlon. Revetements
should never be carried so high as to interfere with the
embrasures ; nor should trees be planted near them, as the
roots bccom.e very troublesome. When, from a scarcity
of earth, it becomes necessary to construct the whole or
any part of the parapet of masonry, it ought to be from
four to seven feet in thickness.

In former times, it was usual to carry a passage round
the outside of the parapet, on the top of the revetement,
froiri 6 to 10 feet wide, with a wall from three to six feet
high towards the field, in which were loop-holes for the
soldiers to fire through. This passage, commonly called
the fiassage of the rounds, is now completely abandoned,
haviiig been found to afford considerable facility to the ene-
iTiy in making an assault. Guerrites, or small towers be-
fore the saliant angles of the parapet, for centinels, have
also been given up.

As a free communication among the different parts of
the fortification is of the greatest importance, it becomes
necessary to have ramps or slopes, by which the artillery,
&c. may be brought upon the rampart. If the bastion be
full, ramps in the gorge will be sufficient ; if empty, one

will be required at each flank, at the faces, and also at the
cui tains. The breadth of the ramp may be from 10 to 19
feet, according to circumstances; and its perpendicular as-
cent, fiom 1 inch to 2} inches per horizontal foot.

Souterrains, or caserns, are places constructed under the
rampart, for the purpose of lodging the soldiers, and con-
taining ammunition, &c. The invention of shells has ren-
dered souterrains much more necessary now than they were
ill former times. They are most advantageously placed in
the curtains and cavaliers, as being there least exposed to
the enemy's fire. Their sizes are different, according to-
the pui-jjose for which they are intended. Such as are in-
tended for powder magazines, ought to be in a dry place,
and as far as possiljle from buildings. It is calculated that
18 tons of powder occupy a space of about eight cubic
yards.

Gates, in a fortified town, should be as few as possible,
to save the garrison unnecessary duly, and to prevent the
cxperice of keeping bridges in repair. Gates are general-
ly placed in the curtain ; and according to Carnot, ought
to be 9 to 10 feet in width, and 13 to 14 in height. They
are shut by a draw-bridge, and also by a strong door at each
extremity of the passage. On the right and left of the
gate, and within the town, are watch-houses for centinels,
which ought to be shell-proof. Formerly, the bridges be-
fore the gates were of wood, but in the new fortresses, they
are of stone. The former had the advantage of being easi-
ly burned, in case of emergency.

In those curtains that have no gates, there are subterra-
neous passages called /losternsy which communicate with
the ditch by two flights of stairs or ramps. They are use-
ful in holding ammunition for the outworks. The extremi-
ty next the field ought to be covered by a tenaille, or clo-
sed up by a very strong gate.

Engineers have differed in opinion with regard to the
comparative merits of a dry and a wet ditch. There can
be no doubt, that one capable of being made either dry or
wet, according to circumstances, is to be preferred : at the
same time, it seems to be generally admitted now, that a
dry one is the more advantageous, particularly if the en-
ceinte has a revetement. It not only enables the garrison
to lend more prompt and effectual assistance to the ouiwoi ks,
but it also encourages the defenders of these to maintain
their position with more obstinacy, knowing that they have
a ready and safe retreat in case of extremity. Besides, it
is only in a dry ditch that the garrison can make sorties,
the communication by means of boats being altogether un-
fit for rapid movements.

In a dry ditch, the communication between the fortress
and the ravelin consists of a passage b, Plate CCLVII. Fig.
3, about nine feet wide, and inclosed by a parapet on each
side, terminating in a glacis. A passage of this kind is
called a ea/!0?i7iier. When they have a pariipet only on one
side, they are called half caponniers. Both kinds are some-
times carried between the shoulder of the bastion and the
ravelin, as well as between various other parts of the fortifi-
cation, and are useful in defending the ditch. They are
always perpendicular to the lines which they enflank.

In moist ditches which are intended to be dry. it is fre-
quently necessary to have a small ditch called a cunette, for
carrying off the superfluous water. It is also sometimes
used to prevent the enemv from surprising a work that has
no revetement or wet ditch. In this case, it is 8 feet deep,
and 12 wide.

If a place be so situated, that a current of water can be
brought through the ditch at pleasure, it gives the garri-
son a prodigious advantage over the besiegers, and always
obliges the latter to be very cautious how they cross the
ditch for the purpose of making an assault. In order more

FOETIFTCATTON.

215

efl^ctiially to inundate the ditch, dams or batardeaux, a b,
ccl Fiic- 1, arc sornclinics cia[>loycd. Tlicy are coiislruct-
ed of stone, and of a sulTicimt thickness to resist tlit pres-
sure of the water contained in them. The water is achnit-
ted and discharijed by means of sluices, fron> wliieh it
flfjws over a long slope, so as not to injure the Ijottoin of
the ditches. Batardeaux ouL^iit to be constructed in places
as much as possible without ilie reach of tiie enemy's fire ;
and the sluices ought to be well protected. When the
bat.irdeau is constructed before the curtain, it serves as a
communication between the place and the ravelin, by means
of a gallery in the interior.

Tenaiilcs are generally 50 feet in width, having a para-
pet on the escarpe, and a terre-plein of 25 feet. Under-
neath, they have posterns similar to those in the rampart,
in the outer exttemiiy of which may be constructed a con-
venient harbour for small boats, when the ditch is wet. In
the gorge of the tenaille, on each side of the postern, is a
flight of stairs.

Demi-lunes are called sim/ile when the interior is empty,
and comfiosed when they have reduits within. A simple
demilune consists of a parapet only, or a rampart with a
parapet upon it. The widih of this rampart ought to be
about 50 feet, wliich will leave 30 feet fur the terre-|)lein,
after a parapet has been constructed. The ramps of the
terre-plein are in the saliant angle. Demi-lunes are some-
times furnished with posterns, which serve for a communi-
cation with the places of arms when the ditch is wet, and
for sally ports when the ditch is dry. They are generally
in the saliant angle. The gorge of the demi-lune ought to
have a revetement with a small harbour, and ramps or
stairs.

The reduit of a dcmi-Iune ought to have a rampart of
50 feet wide, with a parapet, and ramps at the extremities
of its faces. If the ditch before it be dry, it ought to be
from 9 to 12 feet higher than that of the enceinte. The
stairs between the two ditches oug'nt not to reach to the
bottom of the lowest, lest they facilitate the attack of the
enemy. The communication for the garrison may be com-
pleted by wooden stairs, to be removed when not to be used.
On the ramparts of demi-lunes and reduils, trees ought to
be planted, as formerly meniiotied, with regard to the body
of the place. They render it more difficult for tlie enemy
to effect a lodgment there. In the saliant angles of the ra-
velins, there ought always to be barbettes; and the coim-
terscarpe should have a revetement of from 10 to \'2 feet.

With regard to the communication between the higher
and lower parts of a fortiScation, it may be observed, in ge-
neral, that ramps are more advantageous than stairs, the
latter being more easily destroyed. Sometimes, however,
it is impossible to have ramps.

Traverses ought to be about 10 feet in thickness, with
two passages, one towards the glacis, and another in the
counterscarpe. To prevent the covered way from be-
ing enfiladed, the glacis has a crotchet c d e f. Traverses
have in general banquettes, from which the covered way is
defended, and wliich are as high as the crest of the glacis.
Sometimes the banqueite is carried across to the counter-
scarpe, leaving only one passage at the extremity of the
traverse next the glacis. In the faces of the places of arms,
there are ramps to facilitate the sorties, about 10 feet wide,
and so steep as to prevent their being enfiladed. These
ramps ought to be at some distance from the saliant angle,
where they would be too much exposed. The passages
from the gates through the glacis are from 12 to 18 feet
wide, the sides of the glacis being lined with walls, and
the whole constructed so as nownere to expusc the cover-
ed way.

It has been proposed by some to cover the glacis with

stones, or plant it with brush-wood, to prevent the enemy
from maknig excavations. Perhaps the same purpose would
be better acomplishcd by planting it with trees. This last
method was adopted by the French engineers subsequently
to 1792 Aiiolher improvement in the construction of the
glacis, is to round off all the angles, except such as are
saliant, by which means the places of arms are rendered
more capacious, and the lines are less liable to be enfiladed.
This practice w s first recommended by Fontalaid.

The postern in the places of arms which coitmiunicatcs
with the covered way, ought to look towards the bastion,
because, if it were on the opposite side, it would be ex-
posed to the enemy's fire, whenever they get possession
of the saliant angle of the ravelin. The communication
between the covered way and the ditch is formed by ramps
in tlie counterscarpe of the places of arms.

Such is a general oulline of a complete fortification ac-
cording to the modern system of defence. A fortified place,
however, when finished, seldom presents so simiile a form
as what we have now described, being generally surround-
ed with a great variety of other outworks. The nature
and use of these we shall now proceed to consider.

A tenaillon is a kind of couvre face A, Plate CCLVII.
Fig. 4. constructed on each side of a small ravelin B, to
inci ease its strength, and cover the shoulder of the bastion.
To trace a tenaillon, [jroduce the face of the ravelin, and,
leaving from 60 to 80 feet for the fos'^, set off a 6 equal to
180 feet. On the counterscarpe of the bastion, set off c d
equal to 90 feet, and a b d c will be the tenaillon. Works
of this kind are sometimes a little different from that re-
presented in Fig. 4. But it may be remarked of all of
them, that they are much inferior to large ravelins. They
are in consequence very seldom adopted,

Counterguards are works placed sometimes before the
bastion, and sometimes before the ravelin ; but the latter
position is now generally preferred, as they thereby answer
the purpose of large demi-lunes. A counterguard before
the ravelin is represented in Plate CCLVIII, Fig. I. where
AB is equal to about 240 feet, and CD about 60. A coun-
terguard before the bastion does not afford suflicient pro-
tection to the shoulder, and is, besides, one third more ex-
pensive than that before the ravelin. At the satne time, it
may be of essential service in that position, especially if
the revetement of the bastion be very high co}iipared with
the covered way. Counterguards should have a revete-
ment all around, as high as the terre-plein, with a fosse
from 70 to 90 feet wide. It will also increase the strength
of the work, to have a coupure a b before its reduit, with
a fos'6 20 to 24 feet wide, lined on both sides with a reve-
tement up to the terre-plein. Under the parapet of the
coupure is a postern, with stairs to communicate with the
counterguard. The ditch of the coupure ought not to be
so deep as the large ditch by six feet, if both are dry ; but
if the great ditch be wet, the bottom of the small ditch will
not require to be more than one foot above the highest wa-
ter. The revetement, from the bottom of the diich of the
coupure, ought to be at least 10 feet liigh, to prevent a sur-
prise in case the enemy shouid get possession of the place
of arms E. Coupures in general should be perpendicular
to the faces, ami so laid as that the enemy cannot batter
them from the covered way. They should also be placed
near the extremity of the terie-plein FG towards the en-
ceinte, that the communication with the latter may be the
better secured.

When there is a scarcity of earth, a ditch is sometimes
constructed before the covered way, or rather bcfbie the
glacis, called the avantfuHse. It is not, however, of much
use, unless it can be nude wet and dry at pleasure, and is
rather incummodious to the soldiers when making a sallv,

216

FORTIFICATION.

Tlio avaiU-covered-way is a second covered way before
the first or before the avaiit-fosse ; but is useful only in
large fortresses, which have numerous garrisons, li is
constructed in the same way as tiie first, care being taken
that the fire of the latter is not interrupted by tlie former.
The avant-covered-way communicates with the works be-
hind by means of bridges or caponniers, the inner extremi-
ty of which terminates in the places of arms.

Fieches are works of two lines of faces, forming an an-
gle, and generally constructed over saliant angles. They
arc sometimes useful in covering a passage, but in general
they are incapable of making any resistance.

Lunettes are works resembling ravelins, but consisting
only of a parapet, placed opposite the saliant angle of the
covered way, as H and K, Plate CCLVIII. Fig. 1. If the
covered-way has an avant-fosse, the lunettes are placed in
the foss6 ; but if it has none, they are constructed at the
foot of tlie glacis, as H and K, Fig. I. When surrounded
by a ditch and covered-way, they form an excellent de-
fence ; and, by obliging the enemy to open his works at
a greater distance from the place, they essentially prolong
the siege. They are also useful in sorties.

I^unettes ought not to be placed too far from the en-
ceinte ; their angles should be at least 60 degrees, that it
may be defended by guns; and the faces from 100 to 200
feet long. They are always of the greatest advantage,
when the angles of the bastions are very open. The most
advantageous arrangement of lunettes, and that by which
tliey best defend one another, is where the straight lines
joining them make saliant and re-entering angles alternate-
ly; the saliant before the ravelin, and the re-entering be-
fore the bastion. In this way, too, the greatest number can
be made to defend one bastion, all which must be taken
before the bastion itself be assaulted. Flanks of from 50
to 60 feet are necessary in lunettes. The angks of these
flanks increase as that of the bastion diminishes, and vice
versa.

The communication between the lunette and the cover-
ed way, is by means of caponniers; but lest these should
be occupied by the enemy, a subterraneous passage from
the counterscarpe of the covered way, to the gorge of
the lunette, is preferable. If the communication is not co-
vered, it enters the gorge by steps ; if it is subterraneous,
the gorge is straight, and the steps are in the middle of
the lunette. If the terrt-plcin of the lunette is not higher
than the ground, the gorge must be protected by a wall,
with loop-holes, at least 6i feet high, and 12 to 20 inches
thick. The covered way and glacis round the lunettes,
are constructed in the same way as before the enceinte.

A horn work is represented by ABCD, Fig. 2, and is
Constructed as follows. From the saliant E produce the
capital, making EF from 450 to 500 feet. Through F
draw a perpendicular BC, making BF, CF each from 300
to 350 feet, and on this line construct a front, as on the ex-
terior side of the polygon. Then draw the faces BA, CD
directed to a point, about 30 feet from the shoulder of the
bastion. If a ravelin a b c is constructed before the horn
work, its faces ought to be 200 feet. The ditch round
horn works is about 72 feet. Various entrenchments, as
G and H, have been used to strengthen crown works, but
none of them have been of much advantage.

Horn works are placed sometimes before the curtain,
and sometimes before the bastion. In the former position,
they do not appear to be of advantage, as, in case of their
being taken, the enemy becomes master of the whole front.
Before the bastion tiiey may be very useful ; but in every
situation they are liable to strong objections. They retjuirc
a great number of men to defend thein — they form a
saliant that is not easily supported by other works — they

present a straight front to the enemy, which is always
weak, and they arc very much exposed to an assault on
their wings or fnces.

Crown-works differ from horn-works in having a bastion
in the middle, as Plate CCLVIII. Fig. 3. In other re-
spects, they are the same, and constructed in the same
way. They are, however, liable to still stronger objec-
tions than horn-works. They are more expensive, and
more difficult to defend. They are therefore seldom used,
unless it be to cover some large and important positiou
near the fortress.

Detached and isolated works are such as are completely
unconnected with the body of the place, and intended to
protect or attack some distant position. Their form and
magnitude differ with circumstances ; but they are always
similar to some one or otlier of the works already des-
cribed.

Of the works placed in the ditches, or used as coupures
and entrenchments, the most remarkable are Montalem-
bert's casemated caponniers, angular towers, and ravelins
with ailerons. The caponniers are large stone buildings,
witii two or three rows of guns above one another, and be-
tween these rows loop-holes, through which the soldiers
may fire with musquetry. One half of the caponniers may
be used as casemates, as the smoke is easily carried off.
The whole is covered with a shell-proof covering. The
angular towers, or tours angulaires, are round buildings,
with a stair in the middle, and places all about it for men
and guns. The sides are pierced with embrasures and
loop-holes, and the whole covered as the caponniers are,
with a shell-proof covering. ' On the top is sometimes
erected a watch-tower. Under the same denomination of
works may be classed the English martello towers, con-
sisting sometimes of several stories, with embrasures and
loop-holes. The communication between these stories is
by means of ladders. On the top is placed one gun, and
sometimes more, the carriage of which moves on a pivot.
The ravelins, with ailerons, or orillons, do not differ from
common ravelins, except that they are smaller, and have
the orillons. The latter are sometimes constructed of
stone, but more frequently of earth, and are separated
from the ravelin by a small ditch. These orillons are of
great use in covering the shoulders of the bastion, when
the ravelin is too small for that purpose. But in every
case it would be better to have a large ravelin without the
orillons, than a small one with them. The orillons are in
fart a sort of places of arms, which when taken, give the
enemy the command of the ravelin.

Of all the means of defence, none perhaps can be turn-
ed to greater advantage than water, when it can be readily
commanded. An inundation, well directed, is not only a
defence to the besieged, but may even be converted into a
powerful means of annoyance, by suddenly destroying the
enemy's last and most important works in the fosses. It
is no small recommendation, too, of this method of defence,
that it can be used without much expense, either of labour
or ammunition.

Casemates have frequently been resorted to as a certain
means of defence ; but besides the general objection that
they are expensive, it does not appear that they are so effec-
tual as might at first be supposed. The most useful works of
this kind, are the double caponniers, for the defence of the
ditches. These are covered with a shell proof arch, and sur-
rounded with a ditch 12 feet wide, and 6 feet below the bottom
of theditch in which they are placed. The chief object of this
ditch is to prevent the enemy's approaching so near as to
throw inflammable matter into the loop holes of the capon-
niers.

To cover the gorge of a work, a single wall is some-

FORTIFICATION.

217

liflTcs constructed with loop-holes, and stairs behind it to
communicate with the terre-plein. Perhaps the best de-
fence for any gorge, is a tower like Montalembcri's, or the
Englisli Martcllo tower, as it serves not only to cover the
work, but also to protect the men in retreating to the gar-
rison.

When casemates are constructed, they ought to be at
least eight feet in height, and as much in vvidtli, with loop-
holes at the distance of every*three feet, both to give the
soldiers the command of the ground immediately under
the work, and to allow the smoke to disperse. If the capon-
iiiers arc of a considerable length, they ought to have tra-
verses at short distances, or walls with loop-holes, that they
may be more obstinately defended should the enemy get
possession of one extremity.

It was formerly observed that, at a very early period,
mines were employed by the beseiged for overturning the
towers and other works of the enemy constructed near the
place. After the invention of gunpowder, this mode of
attack became more effectual, and of course more common.
According to the modern system, a mine consists of a
small subterraneous chamber or cavity, filled witli gunpow-
der, which by its explosion destroys the works raised
above or near the spot. The part containing tlie povirder
is called tlie fotirneau, and the passage leading to it the
gallery. When a work of this kind is made by the be-
siegers, it is properly called a mine, and a countermine
when employed by the garrison. The construction, how-
ever, is the same in both cases.

When mines are to be used in the defence of a place,
the galleries ought to be constructed before the siege com-
mences, having branches running from them in various
directions. The former ought to be of masonry, the lat-
ter may be constructed of timber. The works before which
mines are to be cut, ought to be of sufficient strength to
resist the enemy till such time as the mine be finished, if it
has not been previously constructed. A mine, indeed,
ought never to be used but before a strong and important
work, where it is expected that the enemy will make a
fomidable attack. When mines are employed under an
outwork for the purpose of dislodging the enemy, should
they get possession of it, they ought not to be too near the
escarpe lest they should be discovered by the enemy's mi-
ner. In general, they ought to be at least 12 feet distant
from the revetement of the work, and if possible lower
than the ground of the fos&e. The principal galleries
should be from four to five feet wide, and from six to six
and a half feet high. Three feet square will be sufficient
for the branches. Several rows of mines before one ano-
ther may sometimes be useful ; but they ought not to be
too near, lest the explosion of one should loosen the earth
about the others.

Having pointed out the general disposition of the differ-
ent works with regard to the trace, the next important point
is to determine the relief. This is done by means of ver-
tical sections or profiles; and hence a place is said to be
well profiled when the relief is so regulated as that the
different works cover each other without preventing their
command of the field.

When a fortification is situated in a plain, all the fronts
are fortified in the same manner; but if the ground be un-
even, regard must be had to the different heights around
as well as within the place. When the parts of a work
are well arranged in this respect, the work is said to be
•ell defiled.

With regard to the relief of a fortification, in general it
may be observed, that the parapet of the most distant out-
work (inght to have the command of the field, and every
succeeding one the command of that before it. All revete-

VOL. IX. Part. I.

ments should be completely covered,— the covered way be-
fore the dcmi-lune should have a command of at least six
feet, — the glacis before the places of arms 7 feet six inch-
es,— and the faces of the bastion so much as to fire over
the saliant angle of the denii-lune. Some engineers have
proposed to make the rampart in every case of a determin-
ed height. Vauban fixed this at 22 feet. Some have re-
commended 14 and others 30. From the very nature of
the thing, however, it is obvious that no such rule can be
applicable to all places. The great object in every forti-
fication is to bring as many fires as possible to bear on one
point, and therefore the relief must depend on the number
and distance of the outworks, — the dimensions of the trace,
— the distance of the enemy's parallels or trenches, — and
various other circumstances. But as the commands or re-
lative heights of the different works must always bear a
certain relation to one another, these heights may be deter-
mined by the following proportions.

To find the height of the saliant angle of the bastion.

As the distance between the saliant angle of the bas-
tion and the saliant angle of the place of arms:

To the distance between the angle of the shoulder and
the enemy's third parallel before the demi-lune::

So is the height of the glacis before the place of arms
-f 3 feet:

To the height of the crest of the parapet at the sali-
ant angle.

The enemy's tliird trench or parallel is generally at such
a distance as to touch the exterior side of the glacis op»
posite the bastions and ravelins.

To determine the height of the angle of the shoulder.

As the distance between the saliant angle of the de-
mi-lune and the third parallel or exterior side of
the glacis:

To the distance between the angle of the shoulder and
the third parallel in the direction of the saliant an-
gle of the demi-lune: :

So is the height of the glacis before the saliant of the
demi-lune4-'- feet:

To the height of the angle of the shoulder.

In the former proportion three feet, and in the latter two
feet, are added to the height or command of the glacis,
that the fire of the body of the place may not injure the
men in the covered way. The same is done in every other
work.

The command of the faces being determined, that of the
flanks is made the same. The command of the curtain is
a straight line joining the crest of the angles of the flanks.
It may be observed, however, in general, that two or three
feet, according to circumstances, are frequently added to
the command determined by the preceding rules.

To determine the command of the demi-lune at its gorge;,
or the extremity of its face on the counterscarpe of the
great ditch.

As the distance between the saliant angle of the place

of arms and the third parallel :
To the distance between the extremity of the demi-lune

at its gorge, and the same parallel : :
So is the command of the glacis before the place of

arms-|-3 feet :
To the height of the demi-lune at its gorge.

To determine the command of the saliant of the demi-
lune.

218

FORTIFICATION.

As the distance from the saliant of the covered way

to tlie third parallel :
To the distance between the saliant of the dcmi-lune

and liie same parallel : :
So is the command of the glacis before the saliant-(-

three feet :
To the height of the saliant of the demi-lune.

When the command of the demi-lune is determined by
this rule, that of the enceinte, as formerly mentioned, re-
quires to have two or three feet more than the above rules
give. The command of the reduit within the ravelin ought
to be three feet.

The preceding method of determining the profile of a
place will in ordinary cases give nearly the following
heights: For the saliant angle of the bastion 17i feet, and
the shoulder 21 feet ; for the gorge of the demi-lune about
17i leel, and for the saliant angle 14^. The interior side,
or command of the glacis, as has been already stated, is 7 A
feet above the covered way, and its declivity towards the field
ought to be 1 foot in 24. If the declivity be greater, it co-
vers the enemy's trench or parallel ; and if less, the cover-
ed way becomes exposed.

The revetement of the rampart ought to be equal in
height to the crest of the glacis, and at least 25 feet above
the bottom of the ditch. This gives 18 feet for the depth
of the ditch below the covered way. Sometimes the re-
vetement is not carried so high as the crest of the glacis,
and the escarpe above is planted with thorns, or defended
by palisadoes. This is called a demi-revetement ; but it
has the disadvantage of assisting the enemy in the escalade,
and therefore ought not to be adopted unless the ditch can
be inundated with water. For the same reason, the re-
vetement should not terminate at top, as it ofttn docs, with
a berine or round way, which serves only to afford the ene-
my greater facility in fixing tl>eir scaling laddeis. The
thickness of the wall of the revetement should be at least 4
feet at top, and 5 if the height exceed 12 feet. At bottom,
the thickness ought to be one-sixth of the height. To
strengthen the revetement, counterforts or buttresses of
solid masonry, from 3 to 3^ feet thick, are built behind it,
at the distance of from 10 to 15 feet between centre and
centre, which support a considerable part of the pressure
of the rampart. VVhen the ditch is dry, a row of palisadoes
is sometimes constructed in the bottom along the centre.

When counterguards, lunettes, fleches. Sec. are used,
tlieir command is to be determined by the general rule,
that every work must be three or four feet lower than that
behind it. Detached crown works and horn works are to
be considered as separate fortifications, and their profile
constructed by the rules laid down for that of the enceinte.
The profile of a place is represented in Plate CCLVIII.
Fig. 4.

The rules laid down above for constructing the profile
of a fortification, are applicable only to level ground. When
the country is uneven, it becomes a problem of considera-
ble intricacyto determine the heights of the different works.
The method now commonly practised is as follows:

A liorizontal plane is supposed to pass through the
highest point of the ground within the distance of 2400
feet of the intended enceinte. From this plane, whicn is
called the filane of comparison, vertical lines are drawn to
every remarkable point of the place to be fortified, form-
ing as it were a chart of soundings, in which the plane of
comparison represents the surface of the sea. These ver-
tical lines, as in the case of soundings, are called cottes,
their different lengths being marked on the plane. If
these lengths differ no more than from two to thiee feet,
the ground may be considered as level, and fortified accord-

ingly. If the inequalities are greater than this, regard
must be had to them in determining the relief.

From what lias been already s.iid, it may easily be per-
ceived, that the crests of all the parapets, on the same front
of a fortification, terminate in a plane more or less inclined
to the horizon, as the different works are more or less ele-
vated above one another. In the same maimer, the surfa-
ces of all the terre-pleins, and indeed of any other corres-
ponding parts of tlie works, lie in a plain parallel to the
former, and as far distant from it as these parts are lower
than the parapets. Such planes, in general, are called
planes of drfilcment ; and that which passes through the
covered way, the plane of view or of site, because it deter-
mines all the others. The plane of view ought to have
such a position, that it will pass from four to six feet above
the highest point within 2400 feet of the front. As three
points are necessary in determining any plane, the three
employed in this case are, two in the line intended for the
covered way, and one on the sunyiiit, or rather five to six
feet above the summit of the highest ground about the place.
If the line joining the two first points be horizontal, the
cottes of the plane of view, or the distances of the differ-
ent points in the plane of view from the plane of observa-
tion, may be found by the rules already given for determin-
ing the relief of a fortification or level ground. If tliat
line is not horizontal, the angle of its inclination is first to
be ascertained, and from that the cottes may be easily
computed.

If an eminence running along a front be nearly of an
equal height, the front ought to be parallel to it; but if the
eminence is higher at one extremity, the front ought to be at
a greater distance from the higher part than from the lower.

If a front runs across an eminence, the parts of the front
at the bottom on each side are to be covered by saliant
works on the top of the eminence, and the whole front may
then be constructed on one plane of view. If it crosses
two eminences with a valley between, it will require two
planes of view, always taking care that there be saliant
works on the eminences, by which the enemy may be obli-
ged to open his trenches at a greater distance. If the place
be surrounded by eminences on all sides, each front will re-
quire a plane of view for itself.

In our introductory remarks to this article, we took oc-
casion to enumerate some of the leading advantages which
a country derives from fortifications in general, and parti-
cularly from those on the frontiers. With regard to the
position of the latter, it may be observed, that if the coun-
try be mountainous or woody, a few fortifications on the
most commanding positions will form a sufficient cordon
for opposing an invading army. Tliis cordon ought to be
either a straight line, or convex towards the enemy, as in
this direction it affords greater facility to the different posts
in assisting one another. If the country be level and open,
it will be necessary to have two or three lines or cordons
of fortified places, that the enemy may be forced to encoun-
ter at least ten or twelve sieges before he can enter the
country in great strength. If a river forms the frontier
line, the fortifications are to be placed at the junction of
the river with other rivers — on islands, eminences, or any
other advantageous position. Care should also be taken
to cover the sluices that may be constructed for inundating
the country, when that measure is rendered necessary.
Fortifications sliould always be equally distributed accord-
ing to their stiength, so that the weaker places may not
be all on one part of the frontier. But the side which
chiefly demands the attenttion of the engineer, is the sea
coast, which is always more easily penetrated, and conse-
quently requires the assistance of every advantageous posi-
tion that can possibly be obtained,

FORTIFICATION.

219

The enceinte of a forrificatlon may be a figure of any
number of sides, from a square upwards, the length of the
side in each being 1 100 feet. All figures, however, are by
no means equally advantageous ; and therefore it is of con-
siderable importance to determine the comparative merits
of each.

The square may be readily fortified, so as, by means of
ravelins, countcrguards, and tenailles, to be equally strong
on every side. But the garrison which it is capable of con-
taining is comparatively small; and it is scarcely possible
to make it hold out more than from twelve to fifteen days.
The same remarks are applicable to the pentagon, neither
the one nor the other being fitted for an important position.

The hexagon is superior to either of the former. Its
faces and flanks are sufficiently large ; it will admit of other
outworks besides ravelins, counterguards, and tenailles,
and will contain 2400 infantry and 100 cavalry. It can only
be used, however, in situations where assistance can be
quickly obtained, as it cannot be made to hold out longer
than from twenty- two to thirty days.

The heptagon and octagon will contain a garrison of
from 3000 to 3500 men; and, by the help of outworks and
mines, may be rendered capable of a considerable resis-
tance. The defence of the heptagon may extend from
twenty-two to thirty-five days, and that of the octagon from
thirty to forty-five.

The enneagon, decagon, and endecagon, are capable of
containing 4000 or 5000 men ; and consequently, from so
large a garrison, can spare a greater force for the defence
of outworks, than a polygon of fewer sides. If, with the
outworks, they possess the advantage of inundation, they
may be considered as places of the first order. Under these
circumstances, they may hold out from forty to sixty days.

Dodecagons and polygons of more than twelve sides are
considered as the strongest of all fortifications. They
contain a garrison sufficient to defend not only the places
themselves, but also the passages leading to them, as well
as smaller forts in the neighbourhood. If all the parts are
equally well constructed, the defence may be extended
from forty to ninety days.

It is also to be observed, in comparing these various fi-
gures, that the polygons of a smaller number of sides are
much more expensive than those of a greater number, if
the same advantage in point of strength is to be derived
from them ; at the same time that a much smaller army is
required for besieging the former than the latter. A hex-
agon may be completely invested with 25,000 men — an oc-
tagon by 35,000 — but a decagon, or dodecagon, will re-
quire 50,000,

Places that require to be defended only from ■a.coufx-dc-
?nain, such as passes, tops of mountains, harbours, &c. will
be sufficiently protected by a fort, or small fortress. Of
this kind are the forts near Antwerp, Dunkirk, Brest, Tou-
lon, Dover, and in almost all the colonies in the East and
West Indies.

Intrenched camps are works raised for the protection of
an army near a fortress, by taking advantage of moors, wa-
ter, Sec. in the neighbourhood. Under this class of works
may also be included the forts constructed about a large
town to prevent a siege, as well as to cover the magazines
in the place from the enemy's fire. If such works arc
raised about a fortress, they should be sufficiently near,-
and strong enough to form an intrenchment. If the for-
tress be on the frontiers, such works are very useful.

Citadels are forts, or large reduits constructed within
fortresses, for the purpose of commanding the town,_should
the inhabitants prove refractory, and to serve as \ retreat
to the garrison when the place surrenders. Citadels con-

sist of an earthen rampai t and a ditch, but ought always to
be stronger than the fortress, that the enemy may not be
tempted to attack them first. If possible, the ditch should
be filled with water: if not, it must have a revetement.
The souterrains of the citadel should be large enough to
contain the garrison ; and the communications with the
town should be such, as that they may be destroyed by
mines when necessary. The space between the town and
the citadel is called the esfilanade, and is from 300 to 400
feet wide. In citadels, as well as in all other forts, martel-
lo and other towers may be used with considerable advan-
tage.

The form of a fortress depends a good deal on the na-
ture of the ground on whicli it is constructed. If the
ground be quite level, the fronts may be equal in every re-
spect, both in the trace and in the relief. If a river runs
through a town, it should pass under the rampart, and be
covered with a shell-proof arch. The entrance of these
arches are to be shut up with iron doors on the outside;
but, if the river be navigable, on the inside. The water of
the river is to be used, if possible, for filling the ditches at
pleasure; and for this purpose, a batterdeau is to be con-
structed across the river at its entrance, and along each
side, so as to stop up the communicaiion between the river
and the ditch. Hy means of sluices in this batterdeau, the
water may be thrown into the ditch, and let out by a simi-
lar batterdeau at the opposite side, when the river issues
from the place. These batterdeaux ought to be six feet
above the usual height of the surface of the water, but ne-
ver so high as to be seen by the enemy.

If a river runs close by a place, no other work will be
necessary on that side, than a single enceinte with a cover-
ed way ; but if there be a gate towards the river, it will re-
quire to be covered with a strong work called a tete-de-
/lont, or head of a bridge. If a canal be carried from the
river through the place, the sluices that form the commu-
nication must also be strongly fortified, and the entrance of
the canal or river into the place covered with demi-lunes,
lunettes, &c. It will be found most advantageous to let
the river or canal issue from the place at the curtain.

If a fortress be situated on a hill, the rampart should be
constructed so as to enfitade the declivity of the hill as
much as possible, independent of the outworks. Such for-
tresses are generally small, but very strong. If the situa-
tion of the place be in a moor, or groimd any way impassa-
ble, it is still more easily fortified, particularly if there be
a command of water. A single enceinte with demi-lunes
before the gates, will in general be sufficient for such a
place ; but if there is a more easy access on any side, it is
to be covered by stronger works. These outworks ought
to have the gorge enclosed by a wall with loop-holes.

When a fortress has a plain on one side, and a moor,
height, or impassable marsh on the other, the side most
open to attack should be nearly a straight line, while that
towards the other may have a considerable degree of cur-
vature. With regard to the works necessary on each side,
the observations we have already made will be found use-
ful ; though, after all the directions that can be given, a
great deal must in every case depend on the skill^nd expe-
rience of the engineer. It may be observed in general,
however, that fortifications on unequal eminences, or on
eminences and plains, are always disadvantageously placed ;
but when it is necessary to construct them on such places,
the side most open to attack should have as open bastions
as possible ; and if such sides have eminences in front pa-
rallel to them, or nearly so, it will be necessary, in many
cases, to occupy these eminences by detached forts and
other strong works.

Ee2

220

FORTIFICATION.

AVhen a place is situated on the sea coast, the side next
the sea may be secured against a coufi de main, by a single
enceinte, or by strong detached works. When the place
is at a distance from the sea, but communicates witli it by
means of a long canal, forts are to be constructed along the
canal at convenient distances : these are generally placed at
the ends of dams or dikes, and so formed as readily to en-
filade the canal or its bank. If the forts can be approached
by vessels, they ought to be of masonry, and the guns
mounted upon them should be 3C, pounders. They ought
also, in this case, to possess the means of making led hot
balls.

SECT. II.

Temfiorary or Field Fortifications.

Such is a general sketch of the modern system of per-
manent fortification, or the construction of fortresses that
are to be permanently used as places of strength. We
shall now proceed to consider the most approved plan of
field fortification, or the construction of temporary works
for protecting an army, or a detachment in the field.

As field works are constructed of the same materials,
and intended for a time to serve thesame purposes as for-
tresses, many of the general principles laid down above in
the construction of the latter, are equally applicable to the
former. The strength of each consists of an earthen
mound, with a ditch before it, and the only difference,
therefore, between them, is in the form, size, and number
of workS; The first object in field fortification is, to give
the work Vich a form as will render it most capacious at a
given expence. The flanking defence should be as much
as possible employed, and the flanked parts within the
range of musket shot, that is, 400 or 500 feet. The saliant
angles are always to be strongest, and dead angles, or
points, that cannot be seen from any other part of the work,
as much as possible avoided. To render the faces more
nearly parallel to the field, the saliant angle should be very
obtuse, and its defence will be considerably improved, if,
instead of forming an angular point, it be truncated, round-
ed, or serrated. These different forms arc represented in
Plate CCLVIII. Fig. 5. A, B, C. Saliants like C, where
the faces consist of a suite of small saliant angles, are use-
ful in removing all unflariked angles ; but the sides, forming
each of the small saliants, ought never to exceed two feet ;
when they are more th.".n this, they either weaken the pa-
rapet, or they render it necessary to increase its thickness,
\vhich both adds to the expence, and encroaches on the
room within. Perhaps, upon the whole, the best form of
a saliant is the circular represented by B. With these
general remarks, we shall now proceed to enumerate the
the principal works employed in field fortification.

The redan is a work consisting of two faces, like a demi-
lune, sometimes also having flanks, in which case it is call-
ed a /izecf. As the redan has an open gorge, it is easily
taken in rear, and is therefore never used but to cover a
road, dyke, village, castle, or other work.

The redoubt is an isolated work, and of course forming a
co'mplete enceinte. It is generally triangular, square, or
circular, and sometinoes also a polygon. The triangular
form is seldom used indeed, its angles being too acute, and
the space within too small. The circular redoubt encloses
a large space, but is difiicult to construct, and cannot be
well flanked. The square, or pentagonal form, is there-
fore most commonly used.

As a redoubt is liable to be attacked on every side, its
size ought to be so proportioned to the number of the gar-
rison, that it may be defended on all sides at once. To be

sufficiently defended, a side vi41 require a man to every
yard, and three ranks of men. The first rank fires, the
second loads, anrl the third acts as a body of reserve.

The weak defence of such works generally arises from
the bad disposition of the men who are to defend them,
and therefore great care is necessary in accommodating
the work to the number of the garrison. A redoubt, whose
side is about 12 yards in length, will inclose 36 square
yards, but will contain men cnougli only for one rank along
the parapet, and is besides much exposed to the destruc-
tive efi'ects of stone balls and shells. This is, therefore,
the smallest redoubt that ought ever to be constructed ; if
the side be 14 to 16 yards, the space within v.iil be 60 to
80 s(iuarc yards, and will contain men sufficiciit for one
rank and a reserve. A side of 18 to 20 yards will afford
room for 144 men, being enough for two ranks, and, in ge-
neral, the more the sides arc incieased in length, the
greater in proportion will be the room aflbrded for the gar-
rison. This is to be understood, however, only of isolated
works, as those to which succours can be readily afforded,
do not require to be increased at this rate. If the side of
the redoubt exceed 30 yards, there will be accommodation
within for 500 men, of which 384 will be suflftcient for a
complete defence. In this case, therefore, the redoubt
may be constructed with flanks; and, if guns are to te
planted upon it, it may also have outworks. The general
rule for determining the fire lines of redoubts, is to allow
three men to eight square yards of interior room, if the
garrison exceeds 90 men ; but, if less, one man to two
square yards. Redoubts are of great use in preserving a
communication with advanced posts, and defending a defile,
height, passage of a river, a frith, or even the wings of an
army ; hut they are also very defective in some respects. .
They have unflanked angles, and a dead angle all round
the parapet. The first may be remedied by placing them
in such a situation that their saliants cannot be assaulted.

A/ortin, ov field fort, resembles a redoubt, but is larger,
and has a greater variety of forms. It is called a fort
when isolated, and a t€te when the gorge is placed upon a
river, defile, kc. When forts are not irregular, which is,
however, in many cases, the most advantageous form, they
are either star forts or bastion fort^. Star forts, or forts 'a
tenaitte,:x\'e. such as forma regular suite of saliant and re-
entering angles. They may be considered as polygons,
whose sides are broken so as to form the re-entering an-
gles. If possible, the saliant angles should never be less
than 60 degrees, and the nearer they approach to 90 the
better, as a rectangular defence is always the best. The
hrisurcs, or faces, forming the re-entering angle, should
not be less than 50 feet, nor more than 100. If they are
longer than this, they require a numerous garrison to de-
fend them, and it would therefore be better, in such cases,
to construct a small fortress, especially if guns are to be
used.

Star forts are seldom constructed either in the triangu-
lar or square form, a redoubt being almost always prefer-
able to either. In a triangle there can be no brisures, in a
square their angles are ISO degrees. A pentagon is some-
what superior to both, the defence of its saliant angles be-
ing better, and the angles of the brisure 152 degrees. The
hexagon is still better than the pentagon, though its saliants
are by no means well' defended. The heptagon has sa-
liant angles of 128 degrees, and those of the brisures 112.
This form might therefore be used with considerable ad-
vantage, were the construction not so difiicult ; the most
convenient, however, as well as the most advantageous po-
lygon for works of this kind, is the octagon. The con-
struction is made either upon tlie interior polygon, by

FORTIFICATION,

221

placing equilateral triangles on its sides, or on the exterior
side, by njeans of the perpendiculars from the saliant and
re-entering angles.

Bastion forts have frequently been proposed; but in ge-
neral thoy are inferior to star forts. The tiiangular half
bastion is peculiarly defective. They are difficult to con-
struct— the saliants lue too acute and ill-defended — the
faces of the demi-iunes are without any cover, and the in-
terior surface is too small. The square half-bastion is lit-
tle better than the triangular, but it incloses a larger space.
When the bastions are full, the work may somciimes be
very advantageous, and the construction is the same as in
permanent fortification.

In bastion foris the sides should not be less than 100, nor
more than 200 yards, that the flanked parts may be within
riusket shot. Perhaps 120 yards is a good medium. The
best form of the curtain is to break it twice, by which a
very advantageous fire is obtained.

The principal things to be considered in field fortifica-
tion are, the nature of the ground, aijd the soil to be used,
the attack that is likely to be made, the relative importance
of the place, and the number of the garrison.

When the place is to be defended against small arms
only, the talus may be as steep as possible, from the sum-
mit of the parapet to the bottom of the ditch ; the base be-
ing equal to the height. If guns are to be used, the slope
should be greater, to make a better defence. The base,
in this case, may be one-third of the height, if the earth is
heavy ; one-half, if lighter ; and two-thirds, if it be sandy or
•stony. To keep the talus from falling down, gazons are
used wherever they can be conveniently obtained. Revete-
ments of various other kinds have also been used, as fas-
cines, saucissons, hurdles, trees, boards. Etc. but no method
of constructing the talus anpears so easy or so advantage-
ous as that already described, especially if it has a row of
trees on the front, standing seven or eight feet al)ove the
ground. Sometimes it may be useful to interrupt the ta-
lus by a berme, so as to take the pressure of the parapet
as much as possible off the counterscarpe. Care must be
taken, however, that this berme be at least 5 feet 6 inches
below the exterior summit of the parapet, lest the besieger
take advantage of it to fire over upon the garrison. Pali-
sadoes and chevaux de frises, or beams stuck full of pins.
Sec. are useful on the berme, only when it is covered from
the enemy's fire. The interior slope of the parapet must
be as little as possible, that the soldiers may approach close
to it. From 10 to 16 inches of a base will be enough, and
it ought to be lined with fascines, boards, or gazons.

The banquette behind the parapet, in a single work,
should be fiom two feet to two feet six inches broad; but
if the work has a curtain resistance, it ought to be 4 feet in
breadth, to afford a ready communication. It should also
be from 4 feet to 4 feet 3 inches lower than the parapet,
and have a slope or stairs of fascines towards the interior,
by which it may he ascended.

All these works, when they are intended for a short re-
sistance, consist only of a parapet : but when they are
larger, and intended to hold out for a considerable time,
they have generally a small rampart, for the convenience of
the artillery.

The upper slope or plonge of the parapet ought to be
directed to the upper part of the counterscarpe ; or if it
has a great command of the surrounding country, it may
be directed somewhat higher, as the slope should never be
more than from two to three inches in the foot, lest the up-
per part of the parapet should be too much weakened.
This is, indeed, double of what is allowed in permanent
fortification. If the plonge cannot be directed to the crest
of the counterscarpe, it will be proper to construct a glacis,

having the same slope as the plonge of the parapet. It is
to be particularly observed, however, that if a place can be
cannonaded by the enemy, the slope is to be reduced as
much as possible.

The thickness of a parapet depends on the purpose for
which it is intended, and the ordnance that may be brought
against it. If it is only a temporary place of security, till
reinforcements come up, two to four feet in thickness will
be sufficient, as it will, in all probability, be attacked by
small arms alone. But if great guns are likely to be em-
ployed by the enemy, or if the work is to continue for any
considerable time, the parapet ought to be at least 10 feet.
A four pounder ball enters about 4 feet, an eight pounder
6 feet, and a twelve pounder about 8 feet in common earth,
such as is generally used in constructing fortifications. If
therefore a heavy cannonade be expected, tlic parapet will
reciuire to be 12 feet, or perhaps in some cases more.

The foss6 before the parapet, in field fortification, is
generally not very deep, but ought never to be less than 5
feet, and always 12 if possible. The talus of the fosse may
be steeper than tliat of tlie parapet, as the earth of the for-
mer possesses its natural adhesion. Of course the base of
such slopes is very small compared to their height.

If a work is situated on ground where it is liable to be
enfiladed, it must have traverses in the interior. The thick-
ness of these traverses depends on the attack which they
may have to sustain. If this consist of small arms only, two
feet will be sufficient ; but they will require 6 to 9 feet, and,
in some cases, 10 to 11 feet, to hold out against ffield
pieces. The talus must be as steep as possible, that they
may occupy little room, and to preserve the communica-
tion they ought to have passages through them. In every
work, indeed, there should be openings from 4 to 5 feet, or
from 8 to 9, according to the size of the work, to keep up
a free passage between the different parts. The talus of
these entrances must be as steep as possible, and they are
to be shut up with chevaux de-frises, large branches, and
other barricades. They ought also to be covered by a tra-
verse behind them, 6 feet longer than their width, and
from 3 to 9 feet in thickness. This traverse has a ban-
quette, from which the soldiers can fire on the enemy, in
approaching it. Before these entrances, it is usual to con-
struct a bridge, consisting of boards laid on scaffolds in
such a manner as to be readily removed or destroyed when
necessary. This bridge is about 3 feet wide in small
works, and 9 to 10 in works whose guns are mounted. The
gorge of a work is always to be inclosed, at least by palisa-
does, to prevent a surprise.

If a work is to be occupied for any considerable length
of time, it should be furnished with a corfis de garde. In
small works this may consist of huts covered with branches;
but in larger places it should be of timber, and have if pos-
sible a shell proof covering. The exterior parts of a for-
tification may be increased and strengthened either by ac-
tive or passive works of defence. A covered way, however,
is in general of little use in field fortification. It is very ex-
pensive, it adds 3 to 4 feet to the height of the profile,
weakens the rest of the parapet, requires a deeper ditch,
and can be defended only by a large garrison, which, how-
ever, generally retires before the assault is made, and
creates confusion within the place. When the work is
pretty large, a covered way may be used, and then the crest
of its parapet ought to be 4 feet above the horizon ; end if
it be dug out behind the glacis, the latter will require a
banquette. The width of such a covered way is nine feet.
Traverses are seldom used at the re-entering angles of the
covered way in field works. If they are used, it is to cover
an entrance, and are constructed in the same way as places
of arms in permanent fortification. Such traverses, how-

222

FORTIFICATION.

ever, require a great command. The parapet must be at
least 11 lo 12 feet. A simple c;lacis, therefore, is perliaps
better, except in very large works. A second glacis, without
any covered way, is of s^iciU use in fi;:ld works. Where it
is used, the parapet will require only fiom 8 lo 9 feet of
command, and the obstructions that may be laid in the ene-
my's way are better concealed. Such a glacis is also of
threat advantage where small works, as fleches, are used,
and may be successfully employed in producing liltle in-
undations, particularly if ditches are made in it at short in-
tervals that cannot easily be passed. It is always of the
greatest importance, indeed, lo have the fosse full of water.

Of the various obstructions used lo retard the enemy,
Cm/i/tes de loufis may be mentioned. These are square or
circular pits, six feet in depth, and as much in diameter,
with a pole in their centre, to prevent their being a cover
to the enemy. The earth dug out is heaped up among
them, or dispersed around. Trappes de loups should
alwajs be hid by a glacis, and should be arranged in three
rows in echiquier, like the black stjuares in a chess-
board.

Palisades are obstructions that may be used at all limes,
but their advantage depends principally on the manner in
which they are employed. They are constructed in dif-
ferent parts of the fosse, and placed in various positions,
according to the expected attack, and the kind of defence
which the ditch possesses. Care must be taken, however,
to place them without reach of the enemy's large guns. If
trappes de loups are before the fosie, the palisades ought to
be behind it.

Another method of strengthening a place, or rather of
obstructing the enemy, is to plant large branches of trees
on the counterscarpe, on the berme, or behind the glacis.
The last is perhaps the best position, as they are defended
from the enemy's fire. Chevaux de frises may be substi-
tuted for branches, but they are more difficult to be pro-
cured.

Besides these, various other obstructions may be employ-
ed to prevent or retard the enemy's approach ; as stakes
driven into the ground for a considerable space together,
herses fixed in an inclined position, callro/is, &c. These, of
course, are to be adopted or not, as circumstances may re-
quire. In some cases they may be of little use.

In field fortification, ybw^asse*, or small mines, are fre-
quently of great advantage, provided they be carefully at-
tended to, and fired at the proper moment. The fourneaux
of these mines are laid twenty or thirty paces before the
counterscarpe, and the aaucisson, or long thin bag of pow-
der for firing them, is conveyed by means of an auget, or
wooden trunk. Mines can only be useful when the pow-
der can be kept dry for some time. Large mines for out-
works are too expensive, and of less use than smaller ones.
The best position for them is before the saliant, as there the
attack is more likely to be made.

The fosse of a fleche is defended at its gorge by capon-
)iiers, or by palisadoes three to four inches thick, having,
at the distance of every 2 J feet, an opening like a loop
hole, or a low palisade, which answers the same purpose.
The entrance to the work may be concealed from the ene-
my by the palisade, on one side projecting before that on
the other. Such a defence, however, can only be used
where a work cannot be attacked in its gorge. A stronger
defence of the same kind, for the gorge of a fosse, is by
means of two rows of palisades, fastened at lop by cross
rafters, on which a' e placed fascines, and the whole cover-
ed with earth. Montalembert has proposed to construct
these with a saliant angle, and, that they may be less ex-
posed, to place the loop holes about two feet above the
bottom of the foss4, but lower than the glacis, Such capon-

nicrs have a subterraneous communication with tlic in-

lerior, by a passage lined with poles and boards, and are
surrounded l)y an abattia, or by trappes de loups, to pre-
vent the enemy from approaching them. Similar capon-
nicrs are places in the saliant angle of the counterscarpe,
ten feet distant from the ditcn, which is there enlarged to
twelve feel in width towards the field, and lined with poles,
boards, £<c. The loop holes of these caponniers are form-
ed so as to enflank the glacis, and the gorge towards the
ditch is shut by strong palisades. They arc also surround-
ed, like the others, with trappes de loups, or an abaltis. It
may be observed of all these caponniers, however, that
they cannot be made to hold out long against a cannonade,
and are therefore useful only when that is not to be ex-
pected.

In large forts, it is sometimes of advantage to have a
rcduit to which the garrison may retire, and which, of
course, may be large enough to contain them, till such
time as assistance, or favourable terms of capitulation, can
be procured, in case the fort should be taken. If the rcduit
is constructed of earth, it will require no greater profile,
than merely to command the work before it. If it be made
of timber, it is to have loop-holes, by which the soldiers
may fire on the enemy, without being exposed to his fire :
and it should be so constructed as to enflank every part of
the fort. The cover must, if possible, be snell-proof.

Similar to this is the work proposed by C. Muller, con-
sisting of a redoubt, with four small bastions at its saliant
angles, the diagonals forming a sort of caponniers of wood-
work. In the middle, where these caponniers meet, this
wood-work has two stories, with loop-holes in the walls.
All such works, however, being of wood, are easily de-
stroyed.

The most advantageous kind of reduits are block-houses.
These have walls formed of rafters, from one to three feet
thick ; and roofs, consisting of two layers of the same,
overlaid with fascines, and covered with earth, so as to be
shell-proof Such houses may even supply the place of a
fort, and are particularly useful in winter. The access is
by a ladder to the top, or by a side door, which is sufficiently
defended by palisades, and also by abattis or trappes de
loups around it.

Traverses are useful in the interior defence of a work,
if they are so constructed and distributed as not be ex-
posed to an attack behind, nor liable to be enfiladed by the
enemy.

A work may be defended either by cannon or small arms.
The advantageous use of the former depends on the trac-
ing of the work, and the number to be employed. It is to
be observed, however, that the guns are always to be placed
so as to enfilade all the avenues to the place, and enflank
the works before them. The best situation for cannon ap-
pears to be the flanks and the saliant angles; and that they
may the more readily be brought to bear on the enemy, in
whatever way he approaches, they should be fired there en
barbette ; that is, over the parapet, without the assistance
of embrasures.

Sometimes, however, guns will be more advantageously
placed behind the embrasures, viz. lo defend a defile, or
any narrow passage ; and in this case it is proper to cover
the artillerymen, in order to protect them from the enemy's
tirailleurs, who always approach very near to the work,
being covered by the ground, and thus make great havock
before they come within reach of the fire of the small arms.
The artillerymen who serve guns mounted en barbette in
saliant angles, are very much exposed to danger ; for here
a cannon can only fire a single shot, while the enemy's
tirailleurs can molest it from all sides; and, therefore,
artillery alone will not always prevent the enemy from

FORTIFICATION.

223

taking a work. Artillery should therefore never be placed
in works where the enemy can approach witli case, as in
such cases it will have little or no effect. From this it will
be evident, that wherever cannon arc employed, it will be
necessary that they should not be too much exposed, as
they can only be efficacious in such ])laces as present great
difficulty to the enemy in his approach

The fire of small anus should dirfend and enfilade every
part before a work, and be directed in such a manner, that
the enemy may every where be received with the best ef-
fect ; and care must also be taken that it assist the tire of
the great guns. The flanks are also the most proper places
for the small arms; but it being necessary likewise to de-
fend each part of the parapet, and to receive the enemy
with a front fire, it will be requisite to give the small arms
a place all round a parapet, but particularly to place the
most numerous party of them at the flanks. To increase
the defence of the saliant angles, the serrated form of the
faces is the most advantageous ; but the faces of the small
saliants should never be larger than for two men, or at
most for three, one of which is to be placed in its saliant
angle.

The relief which, in permanent fortification, is the most
difficult to determine, depends, in field fortification, upon
particular rules. In general, tlie height of the work dif-
fers according to its size and situation, and often depends
wholly upon the opinion of the engineer; but there is a
minimum of height, below which it never should be : That
minimum is 4 feet 6 inches ; and even this only for such
works as merely serve to cover men from the fire of small
arms for a short time ; as, for instance, an outpost. No
parapet should, however, if possible, be less than six feet
high, if intended in any degree to command the field round
it ; and to cover the men completely to any distance behind,
it will require to be 7 feet 6 inches. At this height, how-
ever, the soldier sees his enemy under a smaller angle,
which renders his fire more nearly vertical ; a parapet,
therefore, should never, if possible, be higher. If the
height be from nine to twelve feet, this defect increases
considerably ; and if flanks are constructed, they have a
large dead angle before them, both of which are always, if
possible, to be avoided. But, on the other hand, a height
•of twelve feet secures the interior part of a work com-
pletely from the enemy's fire, and has, in this respect,
great advantages. A strict attention therefore to circum-
stances, added to a sound judgment, must determine the
most advantageous relief for any work.

The covered-way of a field fortification should have a
command of at least 4 feet 6 inches above the ground ;
and the tcrre-plein should be two feet below the latter, or
G feet 6 inches below tlie crest of the covered way. This
command may be increased to six feet, and even to 7 feet
6 inches, if it is to be made very large. The parapet
should always have five to six feet command over the
covert- way, and the crest of its glacis ; tlierefore, such
covert-ways will not be of any use where the parapet can-
not be at least 10 feet high. A simple glacis round a field-
work should never have less than six feet command below
the parapet, that the enemy may not fire from its crest
with the same advantages into the work, as its garrison
can at him. If, however, there are places of arms in its
re-entering angles, then it is to have the same command
as a covered-way, and also the parapet as much above it.

An avant-glacis is to have at least five feet less coin-
mand than the covered way, but must always be made so
high as to cover the objects behind it. If it is situated
only before a simple glacis, the parapet behind it should
have at least six feet command over it.

The plonge or slope of the upper part of the parapet,

should be in the same plane with tlie glacis, the covered
way, or the avant glacis. At all cvetits, this plane should
never pass at a greater height above the crest of the
glacis tlian two feet. The same is to be observed if the
earth for an advanced glacis is dug out behind it ; and in
this case, no part of the ground behiijd the advanced glacis
should be more than two feet below a plane passing
through the crests of the covered way and the parapet.
The command of outworks is also the same as ol the
glacis of the covered way, if not more than 200 yards
distant from the principal work. If, however, the prin-
cipal work has a covered way, this is to have a command
of five feet above it ; and consequently the parapet must
have from eleven to twelve feet command above the field.
Should the principal work be an outwork, then that which
covers it must have a command of at least twelve feet
above the covered way and its glacis before it. The com-
mand of field fortifications varies therefore considerably
from that of permanent fortification ; it being in the former
from five to six, and in the latter only two to four feet.
The reason of this is, that the enemy can attack the lat-
ter without being covered, but he can only approach the
former while covered by a parapet, which forces him
always to be at least seven feet lower than the crest of the
work he attacks. The metliod laid clown for works in
permanent fortification, to determine their relief, being
too artificial, and requiring too much time, is not applica-
ble in field fortifications, and here, therefore, a more sim-
ple method is requisite for determining this relief But
it will frequently be found impossible to give such a relief
as may have been determined upon, and in this case a
more advantageous one is to be cliosen, and preferred to
a great command. By this means, field works can be
made much stronger than by a defilement artificially
chosen, as in permanent fortification, and which is per-
haps still more difficult to be executed than that given by
the above rules.

Works which are open in the gorge, or which cannot
be attacked from behind, must be at least 300 yards dis-
tant from any eminence which commands it, if only small
arms are to be feared ; but if cannon are employed, it will
be necessary that the distance should be at least 900 yards.

The defilement of a work, which is open in its gorge,
if it be necessary to place it nearer'to a mountain than 300
yards, is determined as follows : — Poles four feet six
inches in length are erected on the highest visible sum-
mits of the mountain. The points which it is required to
cover by the intended work are then marked, and poles
erected at them of such a height as that tlicir tops shall
just be within the commaLid of the parapet. These poles
being united at top by a cord, the saliant and re-entering
angles of the work are determined, and poles erected at
each, of such a length that their lops shall be in a line
with the cord and the poles on the mountain. The height
of these last poles will give the height of a work necessary
to have a given command over a given place near an
eminence. After determining the defilement of the para-
pet in this manner, the tpps of the poles along the line of
fire of the parapet are united by a cord, and wherever the
line of this cord is below the plane of defilement, it is ele-
vated by means of poles.

In the same manner the defilement for works to resist
artillery is determined, if the heights are not above 900
yards distant from it. This will always be most difficult
where the visible heights are situated on one side of the
fortifications. In this case, after fixing the plane of de-
filement of the parapet, it will still be necessary to deter-
mine a traverse, and its plane of defilement, that the face
jnay not be taken in rear or in flank by the eaiineuce near

224

FORTIFICATION.

it. The moiit convenient sUnalion for such a traverse be-
ing chosen, the plane of defilement is to be determined
in a manner similar to that described above, so as to cover
every part of the works at such a height as may be neces-
sary. The traverses arc at the same time to be so chosen
as always to keep up a free communication, it beinsi; neces-
sary that no part of the defence of the works be obstructed.
The traverse is always to be determined at first, where
two planes of defilement are necessary ; but, where all the
works can be laid down according; to one plane of defile-
ment, the parapets are determined, and then, at proper
distances from them, the place lor the traverse is chosen,
and afterwards constructed from this point to the saliant
angle of the work.

A work may have only one re-entering or saliant angle,
or it may have several such ; the plane of defilement, how-
ever, remains always the same, as described above ; but
care is, in this case, to be taken not to injure the flanking
defence too much, and also not to make the dead angles
too large. Several planes of defilement will, in this case,
frequently be necessary. Inclosed works commonly re-
quire an enormous height to cover the men in them ; and
as this can seldom be allowed in field fortifications, tra-
verses are. generally preferred for this purpose.

In this case, the position of the traverses is directed in
such a manner as to take up the smallest room, and at the
same time to cover the greatest space. The nearer the
traverse is towards the commanding height, the more
space it covers, and the smaller the relief may be, but the
traverses are the higher. Their defilement is made out
in a similar manner to that above described ; but care is
to be taken in placing them so as not to block up the com-
munication. The only case where the traverses will not
be wanting, is when the ground on which the work is con-
structed slopes, and when by this its interior is covered.
The traverses should always be as nearly parallel to the
heights as possible ; and therefore, if a work is command-
ed from several heights, the traverses will cross each
other.

The most difficult case is, when a work is situated in a
tunnel, or every where surrounded with commanding
heights. In this case a block-house, or a corps de garde,
is to be constructed in the middle of the work, which is
secured from balls, and which, at the same time, serves
as a traverse for the men who defend the work, or to
secure its interior parts.

Lines or works connected with each other, and forming
intrenchments, should always be strong enough to resist
guns ; and therefore, if they are not above 900 paces dis-
tant from the height, their defilement is to be arranged
accordingly. If such heights, therefore, occur, they arc
either to be occupied, or the position is to be somewhat
altered, which is in general easily done, as the engineer
•will not be so much restiicted on any given place as in
permanent fortifications. However, in all cases where
heights occur, and where the lines always remain com-
manded, advanced works on these heights arc of the great-
est use.

Should a valley between two heights require to be for-
tified, strong advanced works will be advantageous. If,
however, the valley is very narrow, the line may have
very saliant parts on the heights, and be frequently broken ;
but if these lines do not cover the places behind them
sullicieiuly, then traverses musi be chosen, and construct-
ed at such places as may be deemed necessary.

The next important point to be considered, is the ap-
plication of the works to the field. Small works and single
posts may be established by officers of infantry, but large
and composed works only are to be directed by engineers.

An army may be in want of fortifications in different
cases, viz. if it has to cover a large part of a country ; if
it has to act at another place, while a part of the frontier
is to be well covered ; if an army goes to a distance from
its frontiers in an open country ; it it fears an attack from
a superior enemy ; if it is inclined to make its retreat in
sight of a superior enemy ; and if an army besieges a
fortress.

To cover a frontier, every obstacle that can be procured,
as well as every thing that tends to strengthen a line,
ought to be employed. Tlie use of fortified liries has by
some been recommended, by others it has been consider-
ed as unnecessary. The former, however, appear to be
right, in as far as the lines serve to protect and to inclose
a counu-y.

Such lines as serve to protect a frontier, extend from
two parts, where the enemy csnnot pass, or where the line
can be apprised, and for their better support, they gene-
rally have fortresses along them at certain intervals.
Towns, rivers, rivulets, habitations, and all other impedi-
ments to obstruct the enemy's advancing, should in such
cases be made use of.

To protect whole parts of a frontier, fortified places, or
rather fortresses, are the most effectual ; but where there
are none, large towns, and other places commanding the
roads, the rivers, and the vallies, by which an enemy rnay
approach, should be fortified in such a manner as may
enable them to sustain a slight attack, and to obstruct the
enemy's advancing lor a few days. In this respect, strong
places, consisting of fortified and frontier posts, are of the
greatest advantage, if properly chosen and well construct-
ed. Tiiey are generally surrounded with strong works,
which defend each other, and also all the avenues or pass-
ages and roads, as well as the ground leading towards
them. In this respect, inundations, abattis, crenelled walls,
houses fitted up like block-houses, and all other possible
means of defence, sliould be used. Sometimes houses-
must be pulled down, and outworks constructed, if by
these means a»town can be rendered stionger and less
open to attack.

Intrenched camps near the frontiers differ very much
from permanent camps and frontier posts, having no habi-
tations for the troops in them, and being only intended tcr
serve for a short time. They generally consist of works
constructed like field fortifications ; but, that they may be
tenable as long as possible, they ought to be situated be-
hind such places or parts of the ground as do not allow
the enemy to approach.

Tetes-de-fwnts, or bridge-heads, are smaller or larger
fortifications, raised before a bridge in order to cover it.
Small tetes-de-fionts consist only of a single redan, as
ABC, Plate CCLVIII. Fig. 6, the sides of which are
favourably flanked by two traverses D and E. Such teles-
de-ponts are always to be constructed there, that the enemy
may not attack them ; that the bridge which they cover
may not be destroyed by him ; and that, while attacking,
he may be taken in flank. These works frequently re-
quire a considerable space, either to contain divisions of
an army retreating by them, or to cover a large space of
the river or its banks. Large tetes-de-fionis arc represent-
ed in Fig. 7. and still larger in Fig. 8. Tetes-defiontt
must always be well enflanked towards the enemy by the
other parts of the works, and ought also to have a proper
flanking fire of their own. The entrances to them should
not be too small, to retard the movements of the troops ;
but they should be well defended, so as to deter the enemy
from approaching them.

An army which is weaker than that of its enemy, must
someiimes either m^ntain its position, or secure its move-

FORTlllCATlON.

225

menls by the aid of I'oitifications ; and, in tliis case, whole
lines, or connecting works, are to be constructed, in which
advantage is always to be taken of the natural impediments
ofl'ercd by the ground, so as to strengthen these works as
much as circumstances will permit

For the intrenchments of armies at present, unconnect-
ed lines or fortifications are always preferred ; but those
which arc connected, and which form whole lines, are also
of use, where any place is to be covered by a connected
line ; and, in this case, it is more advantageous than sepa-
rated works. The latter possess these advantages, how-
ever, that fhey allow the troops free movements ; they do
not require so many men for their defence ; they cover the
most essential points, and are constructed at less expence.
Besides this, two lines, or even three, may be formed of
them, and then they allow a stronger defence than con-
nected lines. The figure to be adopted in constructing
lines, is that which admits most readily the use of all kinds
of fire-arms. Different engineers have proposed different
figures ; but what appears to us the most advantageous, is
that represented in Plate CCLVIII. Fig. 9.

Detached works possess in many cases, as we have al-
ready said, great advantages over connected lines, and are
in modern times generally preferred. Where a part of a
country, however, has been completely inclosed by con-
nected lines, they are, besides having a good profile, made
as strong by the impediments of the ground as circum-
stances will permit. Of detached works, three lines of re-
doubts are the most advantageous, as they are inclosed, and
may be placed in such a manner that they defend each
other as strongly as if they had flanks. Each of these re-
doubts is by itself a strong work ; but, when supported by
the four neighbouring ones, it can never be tiiken but by
attacking all the others. In such redoubts there should
always be a considerable number of cavalry ready to attack
the enemy whenever they are thrown into the least confu-
sion.

Fleches applied to this purpose can be taken in rear, if
they ave not shut; and, even in this case, their garrisons
are more exposed, and the enemy may always attack them
from behind. It is the same with bastions, though these
certainly have a stronger and belter defence than fleches,
and consequently are preferable. However, their gorges
should always be shut, that they may not be taken in rear.
The spaces among the detached works are, if possible,
made impracticable, ?nd only a few large passages are left
open, througii which the troops may with ease advance
upon the enemy. The first line of such detached works
is always to be the strongest, though the great guns should
be placed in the second and third lines, that the enemy,
after taking the first, may not get the advantage of them
in attacking the other lines.

Should detached works be used in a mountuinous coun-
try, they ought always to occupy the most commanding
points ; but, at the same time, they should be so situated
as to command such as lie before them, and enfilade the
slope of the mountain.

Should it happen that a small post is to be defended
against an attack of the enemy, it is to be prepared, and,
if possible, strengthened by fortifying it. A single house,

when it has no stone walls, may be fortified in the follow-
ing manner: The walls may be strengthened by boards in
the inside, or by rafters a|)plicd as in blockhouses, or if
these are wanting, by making a ditch round it, and using
the earth to strengthen the wall. The doors and windows
are fortified with boards, and barricaded. Loop-holes are
every where made, but in such a direction that the ene-
my cannot reach them with his firelocks, so as to fire into
the inside of the house. If there is no ditch round it,
other impediments are to be made use of, to hinder the
enemy from approaching close to the wall. The roof is
broken down, and all combustible matter covered with
earth and rubbish, to defend the house from an attack
from above, which might otherwise be executed by lad-
ders.

In a stone house the walls will generally be strong
enough, or, if not, they are to be prepared as above.
The same is also to be observed respecting the windows
and the roof; and, if possible, it is to be made shell proof
from above. The doors are either barricaded, or defend-
ed by a tambour constructed before them, to have a flank-
ing fire.

A church-yard, a farm, or an estate, is fortified in a si-
milar manner; but, if surrounded by a wall, either loop-
holes are made through it, or, if too high, a kind of scaf-
folds, called echafaudages, are to be erected, serving for
the soldiers to stand upon while firing. The church, or
the building on an estate, are then generally used as a
corfis de garde, and made shell proof, by breaking down
the roof and the uppermost story, and using it to cover the
building. The doors, and particularly the corners of the
walls round such a place, are generally covered by tam-
bours; but, if time permits, caponniers, and other impe-
diments to the advancing of the enemy, are made use of.
The streets, and roads leading towards them, are general-
ly made impracticable by old or broken carts, harrows,
boards with nails, wheels, &c. All the houses in the neigh-
bourhood, which may be advantageous for the enemy, or
which may favour or cover his approach, are levelled, and
the rubbish of them used to strengthen the walls. The
trees, near such a place, if large, are hewed down or saw-
ed off, that even not a single rifleman may approach co-
vered by any of these parts.

A small, or country town, if surrounded by a wall, is
fortified in a similar manner; but echafaudages are gene-
rally used behind its walls, and, if possible, two rows of
soldiers are employed, one firing through loop-holes, and
the other over the walls.

Guns are placed wherever their fire is of the best effect.
The gates are barricaded, and covered by impediments
which hinder the enemy from advancing there to attack
them ; besides this, they are covered by traverses, and a
flanking fire is established before them, if possible. Only
such parts of the gates as are essentially necessary to be
open for the communication are not barricaded, but strong-
ly defended. Every thing is to be done that may render
the interior communication better and more easy, by means
of sufficient passages ; but on the contrary, every means is-
to be used for obstructing the enemy's advance.

Vol. IX. Part I.

226

FORTIFICATION.

PART II. ON THE ATTACK AND DEFENCE OF FORTIFIED PLACES.

We come now to the Second Part of Fortification, viz. the
attacii and defence of fortified places, and shall consider
this pari of our subject, like the fornier, under two heads,
Permanent and Field Fortifications.

SECT. I.

Attack and Defence of Fortresses.

In former times, there were six different methods of
altarkint^ and deftniling a fortress, viz. Ist, By artifice.
2f/, 15y a surprise, executed either by a secret understand-
ing between the paiiies, the stupidity of the garrison, or
by masked soldiers. 3d, By force ; as the escalade, the
attack dcmblec, or the attack d'enfulte. 4t/i, By inclosing
the fortress all round with soldiers, in order to take it by
a greater force. 5i/i, By famine ; and 6i/i, By the attack
in form, or a regular attack. In modern times, however,
a place is generally attacked by the following methods :
\st, By surprise ; 2rf, By an open attack oi escalade ; 3d,
By starving it out ; and, it/i, The regular attack, or strong
bombardment. Of these different methods, circumstances
must determine which is lobe preferred in any given case.
Sometimes, however, a fortress may be attacked in one
way, which it will be found necessary afterwards to
change ; and, therefore, it is not always known by what
kind of attack a fortress will surrender the soonest. There
are numerous instances on record of a place holding out a
long lime against one method of attack, and surrendering
as soon as that method was changed. The surprise of a
fortress ought never to be undertaken till the besiegers
have gained a considerable acquaintance with the works
of the garrison, and even a knowledge of the inhabitants.
This may be procured by spies, deserters, or some other
source of secret information. The particulars that are
peculiarly necessary to be known, in order to render a
surprise successful, are the depth and breadth of the fos-
ses, the levetemenls of the ramparts, talents and disposi-
tion of the commander, the degree of confidence which the
garrison reposes in him, — how the fortress is watched—
■where it is neglected, and the general disposition of the
garrison.

The most advantageous period for surprising a fortress
is in winter, during the long nights; and the best time of
the night for effecting it is from two to three hours before
daylight. The order for such a surprise is to be given,
and the preparations are to be made, as secretly as possi-
ble, to prevent the enemy from obtaining any knowledge
of it. The march of the troops to execute a surprise
ought to be secret, that it may not raise any suspicion ;
and it must be so calculated, that they may reach their
respective places at the proper moment. In proportion
to the dispatch and secrecy with which such a march is
executed, will be the probability that such surprise will
not be discovered ; and therefore a sufficient number of
people to serve as guides should be ready, that nothing
may be wanted, nor any detachment retarded in its opera-
tions from unforeseen accidents.

If a secret understanding with any of the garrison or
the inhabitants can be procured, it will always be very ad-
vantageous ; but still it is far superior to gain a secret
entrance into the place. It is impossible to lay down
general rules for this part of the subject ; nor is it neces-
sary, as accident, and the circumstances of the moment,
will instantly point out to the e.\perienced commander the

most proper mode. It may probably happen, that one
part of the town is not well watched ; and in iliis case
soldiers may enter there, attack the guurd of ;, gule, and
open it for a small party, that has been previously brought
close to it. When this parly enters, it is to be followed
directly by a larger force. Another mctl-.ot! of penetrat-
ing a town is by approaching secretly to the gate, and
opening it by a petard ; but this is hardly possible in our
times, fortresses being generally so well watched, that it
is impossible to approach their gates without being dis-
covered.

The gate of a town rnay sometimes be entered by mask-
ed soldiers, or soldiers who arc habited in regimentals like
those of the enemy, and who, under some pretence or
other, attempt to be let in by night. A similar ruse de
guerre might be practised, if the gates were opened too
early in the morning. Masked soldiers might also enter
a fortress as farmers ; and as soon as a sufficient number
of them have penetrated, they might attack the guard,
and keep one gate in their possession until reinforcements
arrive. Soldiers, under the pretence of being desertersj
may also sometimes get possession of a gate. A secret
understanding with some person in the fortress may essen-
tially contribute to its surrender ; and also the sending into
the place, unknown to the besieged, a small parly of sol-
diers, who, at an appointed time, are to let in a larger
force. Perhaps an officer of the garrison may favour an
attack, and thus a strong detachment will easily become
master of a gate.

The soldiers who, after the surprise has succeeded, are
to be employed in conquering the town, must liave already
received their orders where to march, and what service
they have to perform. Detachments are to be sent di-
rectly to occupy all guards and guard-houses, as also all
the places of rendezvous, the caserns, the magazines, and
all the gates in particular, so as not to allow the enemy lo
collect any where, or to approach such places. The com-
mandant and all the chief officers are to be made prisoners
as soon as possible, and every thing done that can contri-
bute to create confusion among the enemy.

On the instant that a surprise has succeeded, all the
guards are taken by the assailants, and all such parts of
the works as have been destroyed, or want repair, are im-
mediately to be put into a state of defence. If, however,
a surprise does not succeed, then the retreat is to be
ordered, and to be executed with as much regularity as
possible ; and even in case of success, no soldier is to be
allowed to quit his rank and file until all the fortress ia
completely in their power.

The (jjien attack of a fortress, or the attack by an esca-
lade, is, in some respect, similar lo a surprise, and an in-
tended surprise is often changed to an open attack. An
open attack can only be executed if the fosse of a for-
tress is easily passed, or if the water in it is not deeper
than from four to five feet ; if the revelements are not
more than twelve feet above the bottom of the fosse, and
if the garrison is not always on the alert, so as to direct
the fire of guns mounted on the flanks against the assail-
ants. Should there be no revetement or stone to obstruct
an escalade, other impediments may easily be cut off.
Thorns, however, and bushes, are difficult to remove,
and require a considerable time, if they are planted very
thick. Ladders used to effect the escalade are to be con-
structed for the purpose, and should always be of such a
length as may be necessary to mount to the top of the

FOIlTlFICiVTlON.

2.27

vevetement. Kit be found rcc|uisite to use very long lad-
deib, two or more short oirs, joiiii;d logcihtr, will answer
the purpose, and will also be more cusily taken IVoiu one
place to another.

Various opinions have been entertained with regard to
the best consiruclion of these ladders; Ijut, after all, a sim-
ple ladder of wood appears to be ihe most convenient, as
being the lightest. The number of the ladders depends
upon circumstances; one for every five men appears to be
a very fair pioportion.

In attempting an escalade, it will always be of the great-
est advantage, if the garrison can he taken by surprise, and
therefore all preparations are to be mad*» in the most secret
manner. The same secrecy is also to be observed with re-
spect to the movements of the troops, and in carrying the
escalade itself into efiect. When all the necessary prepa-
tions have been made, and the attack is to be undertaken,
the troops assemble, and march secretly to the cover-
ed way. Having penetrated this, removed the other
obstructions, and passed the fosse, the ladders are all to be
applied at the same moment. A number of men then
Ti'ount by them, sufficient to make prisoners of the guard,
at one of the gates, which is immediately opened to a re-
inforcement previously posted near it. Tnis is followed by
a larger force, the other gates are thrown open, and the
town taken possession of in a similar manner as by a sur-
prise, described above.

If a fosbe cannot be passed otherwise than by small boats,
•with ladders called sambukes, it will be almost impossible
to eflect an escalade. The garrison ought never to know
the real point which it is intended to attack, and therefore
false attacks are frequently of great use, as are also several
attacks at the same time. But it is equally necessary that
all this should be done with as much silence as secrecy; for
the least noise may discover the whole operations to the gar-
rison, and perhaps frustrate all the attempts.

The most certain method of forcing a fortress to surren-
der is by famine ; but it is at the same tin.e the most tedi-
ous, especially if the place is well supplied with provisions,
and if it is situated near a river. The taking of a fortress
in this way, indeed, is not always practicable, though in cer-
tain eases it may be successfully adopted, as when a fortress
has a very large garrison, when the inhabitants are very po-
pulous, or when it cannot be taken by any other means.'

When it is determined to take a fortress by famine, it is
?3lockaded by placing troops round it at such a distance, as
to be without the reach of its guns. The roads, and all
passes and passages towards the town, are occupied. The
cavalry is stationed on the plains, and the infantry on the
inclosed ground. Each of these has its advanced posts
towards tlie enemy, in order to prevent any communication
between tiie fortress and its allies. That no person may
pass the posts during the night, constant patroles are sent
round; and tlie greatest vigilance is always observed, where
any attempts at communication are suspected. The block-
ade of a fonress is still more perfect, when it is surround-
ed by a contravallation composing a connected line, or, what
is still better, by a cordon of redoubts.

A town inclosed by impracticable ground, and which
communicates with the field only by some roads or scapes,
may be more easily, as well as more eflectually, blockaded,
even by a small corps, than a fortress situated in an open
country can be by a large army.

A town partly surrounded with water cannot be block-
aded, unless the blockading troops command the water,
■wheiher it be the sea, a river, or a lake. In this case, a
ilotilla, and frquently a fleet, will be necessary to blockade
the place fiom the wuter side.

To assist the means of consunjing tiie enemy's provi-

sions as soon as possible, a bombardment is fre^jvicnlly of the
greatest use, as the enemy's magazines and store-houses
may thereby be set on fire, and the inhabitants exposed to
much danger. The habitations of the garrison will also
be rendered unsafe, and the soldiers exposed to constant
disturbance and fatigue.

A bombardment is most advantageously made by mor-
tars of a large calibre, and at great distances, with shells
of 12 inches diameter, and large guns, wiih red-hot balls.
The shells used on these occasions should be filled with
combustible matter, so as to set on fire the objects near
which they explode. For the same purpose, fire-rockets
may also be used with advantage. Wlialever, indeed,
threatens to consume the place, must operate as an inducc-
liient to the garrison to surrender, particularly if tiieir pro-
vision be destroyed. This may sometimes be cfiected by
spies, or some other secret means, which of course decides
the fate of the place. It ought always to be remembered,
however, that the seige is carried on, not as against an in-
habited town, but a military post, and therefore the inhabi-
tants are to be spared as much as possible. At the same
time, it must be acknowledged, that this is more the busi-
ness of the beseigcd than of the beseigers.

The attack in Jorm, or the regular attack of a fortress,
begins, as in the last case, with investing, or inclosing it
with troops. This investment is particularly necessary to
cut off the communication between a fortress and its army.
Some towns, however, cannot be invested completely, as,
for instance, when a fortress is situated on the sea, and pos-
sesses a greater naval force than the besiegers. In this case,
such a place can always receive sufficient reinforcements,
and this alone will very much retard the siege Those for-
tresses are also with difficulty invested that are situated on
the bank of a large river, the conflux of two rivers, in tho
middle of woods and hollow ways, at a certain distance from
them, or in general on ground which in any way prevents
the besieging army from forming a connected circle. It is
also very difficult to invest a fortress covered by a large
army, or by an intrenched camp. In this case, the invest-
ing army has to occupy a very large space, by which iis force
will be more dispersed, and easily driven back by a concen-
trated attack fiioin the garrison.

A fortress can either be invested by the army which is
to carry on the siege, or by a corps sent forward before
that army arrives. This will frequently be of great advan-
tage, unless the fortress is covered liy an army, which of
course must be driven back before the siege or the invest-
ment can take place. It is always to be observed, however,
that the investment of a fortress, or the movements and pre-
parations for besieging it, are to be kept most secret, that
in the fortress no particular preparations may be made,
either in collecting stores, or reinforcing the garrison.

Previous to the commencement of a seige, it isof the high-
est importance, if possible, to ascertain not only the strengtli
of the garrison, but also the troops which it may be neces-
sary to oppose in the neigbourhood, in order to determine
the strength of the corps necessary to invest the place.
This ought never to be so numerous as to impede the ce-
lerity or secrecy of its movements ; but at the same time
it must be sufficiently strong to encounter the force which
may be opposed to it. The besciging corps must also be
proportioned to the nature of the ground. If the country
be open, a greater quantity of cavalry will be required; but
if inclosed, the principal force must be infantry. This corps
is to march without any heavy baggage, that it may move
with expedition; and that no obstacles may occur from its
marcliing in loo large a body, it will often be necessary to
divide it into several columns, which are all to rendezvous
at a certain place.

Ff2

228

FORTIFICATION.

As soon as tliis corps has been collected, it approaches
suddenly to within two miles of the fortress, were every
avenue and passage to the place is imniediately o(;cupic<l.
In some cases it may be necessary also, to fortify llie posi-
tion, to guard against a sudden attack from a reinforcement
of the enemy. As soon as the coips arrives at its api)ointed
place, small parties are sent towards the fortress, to bring
away or destroy all kinds of provisions and forage, that the
enemy may not profit hy them. The same is also to be obser-
ved with regard to the catllc, and every thing else which
may be of any service to the enemy. If, at the same time, re-
connoitring parlies can be of use, they are to be sent out;
as also parlies to drive hack any reinforcements that may
be sent to the enemy. Should a fortress be situated on the
sea-shore, a fleet will also be necessary to blockade it; and,
if possible, this must be some days previous to the invest-
inent, in oider that the fortress may be inclosed every where,
as soon as the troops arrive.

The corps which previously invests a fortress should be
careful in preparing the best position for the large army, as
well as endeavouring to gain all possible information re-
specting the place, in order that every thing may be prepa-
red by the time that the army arrives. If, however, the ar-
my be sent directly, it will he the business of the comman-
der himself to choose the most advantageous position, and
to obtain as much information as can be procured.

As soon as the investment begins, the engineers are to be
employed in collecting necessary information respecting the
exterior grounds surrounding the foitress, as well as itself.

All drawings which may have been obtained of the for-
tress and the country round it, are compared with the ground,
and, if necessary, improved or corrected by actual surveys.
If no plans of the fortress can be procured, the works, as
■well as the surrounding country, are surveyed, in which
each engineer has his own work to finish. If instruments,
as rulers with diopters, boussoles, sextants, theodolites,
and plain tables, can be used, the survey will be executed
with greater accuracy ; but where these are not to be had,
a single instrument for taking the principal angles will an-
swer the purpose, and the rest may be filled up by the use
of the camera lucida, and by telescopes with micrometers,
as will be explained in another place. Plans of almost
evei-y fortress may now be had, and these plans are correct-
ed by actual comparisons with the works themselves. All
particulars, such as the lengths of the flanks, the faces, the
curtains, the dimensions of the fosse, and all the outworks,
are taken as exactly as possible ; and, if necessary, an en-
gineer is to go into the covered way, to examine every thing
necessary in this respect. Spies may frequently be of use
for this purpose, and from them, after being properly in-
structed, the Ijest information may be obtained. It is also
necessary to ascertain the disposition of the garrison and
of its commander, as well as the quantity of its provisions
and stores of every kind, and where they are placed, in or-
der to know to what part the fire should be principally di-
rected, or rendered of no use to the garrison. Workmen
who have assisted either in building or repairing a fortress,
can give valuable information to a besieging army, and
therefore every means should be tried to discover them, as
tlie intelligence to be gained from them cannot be obtained
from any other quarter.

The camp of the army is to be regularly inspected, in
ca'derthat every possible improvement may be made for the
greater security and convenience of the troops. The ma-
gazines and stores of materials and instruments necessary
for the seige, are to be made at difterent places, that the
enemy, by their position, may not discover to what part of
the fortress an attack wiU be directed. In entering upon
a seige, the principal object of the commander is to see

that a good communication is kept up between all the parts
of the army, .and that the necessary bridges have been con-
s(i ucted. Care is to be taken that these bridges are suffi-
cieiitly large, and, if possible, there should always be two
together, one of which may still be of use, even if the
other should be damaged. But in the construction of these
bridges, the besieging army should endeavour, as much as
possihle, to place them out ol the reach of the enemy.

Should an army of the enemy he expected, the country
round the camp is to be fortified, if it appears advantageous;
but care is to be taken not to inclose the army too much,
lest its movements should by these means be embarrassed.
Single but strong forts appeiir to be far more advantageous
than any other, and are, therefore, more frequently adopted.
A besieging army may also be covered by an army of ob-
servation, or a corps whose business it is to watch tlie ene-
my's movements, and eitlier to protect the besieging army
from an attack, or at least to give timely information if an
attack is to be expected.

Circumstances must determine, whether the army of
observation, or the besieging army, siiould be the sronger.
11 the army of the enemy is numerous, tlie army of ob»
servation is to be the larger. In most cases, however, it
should, in the first instance, be the smaller, as it may easily
be reinforced when necessary. Besides, the beseiging ar-
my must never be very weak, lest it should fatigue the sol-
diers loo much, and expose them to the attacks of a nu-
merous garrison. To defend them from such an attack,
strong but inclosed works, which cover each other, maybe
raised round the fortress, especially in such places as se-
cure the communication with the different parts of the ar-
my, and at a convenient distance for mounting guns.

In making arrangements for a siege, a most important
consideration is, to determine the position of depots and
military stores. These should never be at so great a dis-
tance, as to produce any inconvenient delay in procuring
the necessary supplies, of which a sufficient quantity must
be collected before the siege commences. Tne first arti-
cle required is ordnance. With this, therefore, and with eve-
ry thing necessary to render it effective, the army must be
amply provided the moment it has taken up its position. The
quantity that may be necessary in any given case, depends
upon the strength of the fortress, and other circumstances,
which will be considered afterwards. Next to ordnance,
fascines, or rods and brambles for making fascines, are pe-
culiarly necessary. These are either 8 or 12 feet long, and
serve to construct parapets, traverses. Sec. and sometinies
also to fill the fosse, in order to pass it. The great num-
ber of fascines generally wanting during a siege, may
sometimes be procured near a fortress, if sufficient wood
of this kind is to be had in its neighbourhood, as they may
be transported by land or water to those places, where the
depots of these and similar materials are formed.

Gabions are also wanting for the construction of particu-
lar works, and therefore it is necessary to have either a
number of them in readiness, or the rods of which they are
constructed. Hurdles made of rods are also used in form-
ing revetements, supporting all excavations of the ground,
and covering bridges, which are to be made over small
rivulets. It is equally necessary, in many cases, to have
blinds and moveable parapets, for the purpose of covering
the men who use small arms.

In the construction of earth works, a great variety of
tools are necessary, such as shovels, spades, fascine knives,
saws, hatchets, hammers, drills, he. and of course a suf-
ficient number of these must be kept in the magazines or
depots.

The park of artillery is placed as close to a fortress as
possible, always taking oere that it be not molested by the

FORTIFICATION.

229

enemy's fire. The most advantageous position is wlien it
is covtrcci by a lieiglit, or rising- ground, and at the same
time well protected by the troops liom tlie sallies of the
garrison, and the attack of an army, to relieve the fortress.
The park of artillery is always to be placed in a certain
order. The heaviest guns should be stationed in one or two
lines, the moriats and howitzers on each side of them, and
those of light calibres at the wings. Every article belong-
ing tp each piece, including the horses, carts, he. must be
placed in a line close behind it.

The place wheie the fireworks are prepared, should not
be far distant from this park, and the park must be as close as
possible to that side whcie the attack, or where one of the
attacks, is to be made. Sometimes, however, it may be
placed before a different front of the fortress from that
wliich is to be attacked, in order the better to hide the in-
tention of the besiegers, or to take advantage of a more
favourable part of the ground.

The stores of ammunition are to be dispersed in several
places, in order that the whole of the powder may not be
blown up by any single accident. The buildings erected
for this purpose being generally made of wood, and cover-
ed by a mound of earlii, a ditch, and rows of palisadoes
round them, are to be constructed at such places as are
covered from the enemy's fire. Tliese houses for the re-
ception of the ammunition, or of the powder in particular,
are to be made so as to keep the powder dry, and must
consequently have a good roof, and some openings with
shutters, which, in fine weather, may be opened for the free
passage otlthe air. The powder is to be placed on boards,
under which the air may pass free, and kept either in bar-
rels or in chests, in the same manner as ammunition chests
on the carriages.

The depots for the materials are also constructed near
the front where the attack is to be made, that they may
easily be conveyed wherever they are wanted. Sometimes,
however, to deceive the enemy, or for convenience, a part
of the depot may be conveyed to another front ; but great
caution is necessary on these occasions. It is not proper
to place the whole of the materials in one depot, or too
near storehouses, lest they should all be destroyed, and their
destruction occasion damage to the storehouses also.

Sometimes palisadoes, and sometimes only a single ditch,
is constructed round the depots ; and here, as well as round
the powder magazines, sentinels are placed to keep all
strangers or suspicious persons at a distance.

The tools and sand bags, or similar stores, may be kept
at the depots of materials, but if possible under shelter,
that wet, or other circumstances, may not injure them.

The choice of the front to be attacked, will principally
be determined by the knowledge that has been procured
from the surveys, the weakest being always the most as-
sailable. That side generally is considered to be the weak-
est which is commanded by eminences, or where the ram-
part can be hit at a great distance, where the terre-plein is
very narrow, the bastions small, the construction or trace
imperfect, the defence injudicious, the outworks weak, the
covered way easily taken, the fosse small and not deep, the
revetenient damaged, or not of stones, where there are no
mines, and where the besieger's works cannot be com-
manded.

With regard to the surrounding country, a dry plain and
open ground sloping towards the fortress is most advan-
tageous. A stony soil particularly retards the siege, as
also moorish ground. In these situations, the attack can
only advance with a very small front, which is certainly very
disadvantageous. Hollow ways, hedges, walls, or similar
objects, may serve also to cover the besiegers works. If
a country be rather low, it is of consequence to know

whether it can be inundated, which is a very serious disad-
vantage. The side of attack also, in some measure, de-
jieiuls on the manner in which the ordnance and fascines
can be transported. The fortifications and their strength,
however, generally determine the point, when the other
circumstances arc not very unfavourable.

The next thing to be considered is the plan of attack,
which ought to be such, that all tiic works shall be con-
ducted regularly, and as few as possible constructed, so that
the fortress may be taken in the shortest time. All this is
the business of the ofTicer who is to conduct the seige, and
who is always present to direct and controul every thing
on the side of attack. The works constructed by the be-
siegers as a defence from the fire of the fortress, are in
general called trenches. Of these there are difl'erent kinds,
as approaches, parallel batteries, and traverses.

Approaches are excavations about 3 feet deep, and 10 to
18 feet wide, the earth of which is thrown towards the ene-
my in order to cover them. The direction of these workv
is towards the place, but generally zigzag, so that they al-
ways approach the fortress in such a manner, that none of
them can be enfiladed. They are represented A, A, A,
Plate CCLIX. Tig. 1. Parallels are also excavations, aboui
3 to 3 J feet deep, and 20 to 30 feet wide, the earth of which
is thrown towards the enemy. They are constructed paral-
lel to the front of attack, as B, B, B. Behind the parapets
are made banquettes, for the soldiers to stand upon, as in
other fortifications.

Batteries are places for guns, being mounted on plat-
forms, round which a parapet and a ditch are constructed
towards the enemy.

Traverses are similar to the works of the same name
formerly described. They consist of mounds of earth, and
are constructed to hinder certain lines from being enfilad-
ed, or to cover troops.

Cavaliers of the trenches are traverses 10 to 12 feet
high, constructed on the saliant angle of the glacis, about
10 to 30 feet from it, in order to enfilade the covered way,
and to drive its garrison out of it. There are steps behind,
by which to ascend them.

The approaches and parallels are conducted accordin;''
to certain rules, the capital, and its prolongation in the field,
being the principal line for the construction of all the
works. On a plan of the fortress these capital lines are
drawn, and the first parallel laid down at about 600 to 1000
paces distant from the covered way. The approach or
communication between the camp and the parallel is next
determined, in such a manner, that the angles of its zig-
zag are as near to the capital line as possible, and that
they form the shortest unenfiladed way to the parallel. The
nearer the trenches come to the place, the smaller are the
turns and the angles of the approaches ; but the longer
time will be taken in approaching the fortress. Tliat part
of the approaches which is the most distant from the for-
tress, is called the tail, and, on the contrary, that which is
the nearest to it, the head of the afi/iroaches.

The first and second parallel, when a fortress is not very
strong, are generally like those represented in Plate CCLIX.
Fig. 2 ; but if the polygon which is attacked be well forti-
fied, Fig. 1. is preferred. The third parallel is generally
constructed at the foot of the glacis, and a fourth is some-
times also necessary.

The figure of the parallels, as well as the approaches,
being thus laid down, the places of the batteries are next
determined. There are three different kinds of batteries,
viz. dismounting, ricochetting, and breaching batteries.
The former serve to dismount guns, or so to damage them,
or the parapet before them, that they must be withdrawn,
and that the men behinil the remaining parts of the para-

230

FORTIFICATION.

pet may tje exposed to the fire as much as possible. Rico-
chetting- batteries serve to eniilade the lines, in the prolon-
gation of whicli theyai'e phiced. This consists in firiiij^ with
small charges at a particular elevation, by which the shots
roll along- the inside of the parapet. Breaching; hatjeries
serve to make breaches in a work, or to destroy a part of
its rcvctcment, rampart, or other inclosure, in such a man-
ner that it may be attacked and mounted with little or no
difliculty.

The licochetting batteries are generally placed at the
first or second parallel, in such a manner that they may en-
iilade the faces and flanks of all the works on the front
■which are attacked, and even some of the next, as also the
covered way, and the works situated before it. They are
therefore constructed in their prolongation of these lines.
The dismouiuinp; batteries arc generally constructed at the
second and third parallels, or between botii ; and arc paral-
lel to sucli works as they are intended to annoy.

The breaching Ijattcries are sometimes at the last pa-
rallel ; but they are still more advantageous w hen on the
crest of the covered way.

Tlie guard placed for the defence of the trenches should
never be less than the garrison oi the place. It always re-
mains 24 hours in the trenches, and is generally relieved
towards the morning. If possible, this guard is always
composed of whole battalions, but never of too large a force
from one part of the camp, lest that part should be too much
"weakened. The sentries in the trenches are to be as nu-
merous as possible ; and they always give notice of every
shot of the garrison, that every one may secure himself.
Cavalry are ordered to cover the ends of the trenches, and
to make an attack on the enemy's flank, if he comes out of
the fortress. The whole guard of the trenches is com-
manded by a general : but besides this, the major of the
trenches has the iuimeriiate superintendence of them, and
of the police there. He shews each battalion its place, and
gives every commander his proper instructions. He gene-
rally has two to four assistants, and is always accompanied
by some orderlies, to execute his orders. It is his busi-
ness, also, to attend the market, to order the provisions,
and to see that a proper degree of cleanliness is observed
in the trenches.

All works which are to be constructed in one nigat are
previously determined, and proper instructions given, that
they may be executed with regularity and the greatest
possible dispatch. The engineers, and all overseers of the
"Workmen, are therefore in particular to be well instructed,

The first part to be execuicd in the plan of an attack is
the opening of the trenches, which is done as follows. The
workmen, and the men ordered to cover them, or after-
"wards the guard of the trenches, are to collect in the most
secret manner, in the evening, at some place not far dis-
tant from that where the attack is to be made. As soon as
dark, about 200 to 300 of the best men are sent towards
the fortress to-draw a line, or to compose a chain of posts
parallel to the front of the attack towards the fortress. After
these soldiers, who must all be men in wliom the greatest
confidence can be placed, and who are to be cr.utioned not
to make the least noise, and to see that no one shall desert,
follow the engineers, each at the head of a file of workmen.
The latter all follow one another, observing strictly the
movements of the engineer, who marches on the line which
is to be dug out by his file during the night.

The workmen being thus conducted to their stations,
they ara carefully inspected by the engineer and his assis-
tants, to see that every man is in his place. Each then
lays down his fascine, which has previously been given
him, and digs in as fast as possible behind it, the fascines
beinsj placed by the pngineer, or his assistants, in such a

manner as to mark the interior crest of the slope of the
mount before the trenches, towards the enemy. Every
man digs in as soon as possible, to cover himse.f, in which
respect they should be properly instructed by a few words
from their leaders, with whom they have to march. Be-
hind these workmen, the rest of the guard of the trenches
are to follow, and are placed about 20 to 30 yards distant
from the workmen, who form the first parallel.

The workmen should, if j-ossible, consist of soldiers, as
labourers give rise to much confusion, without doing more
work than an ecpial number of soldiers. Tiie number of
workmen is determined by tlie length of the line to be dug
out, or when great expedition in required one foot, two leet
being allowed for each man. Care is always to be taken,
however, that there be not so many men as to cause con-
fusion, and therefore it is better to employ no more than
are absolutely necessary. All the men employed in this
undertaking should be perfectly healthy, that they may not
by coughing, or any other noise, alarm the garrison. They
are always to be accompanied, too, by the necessary number
of officers and non-commissioned officers, to keep them in
order. As soon as they are collected in the evening, the
engineers divide them, each takes his number, and explains
to them the nature of the work in which they are to be en-
gaged. The fascines and tools are then given out, and all fol-
low the engineer, as was before observed. In the first night,
the first j)arallel and the approaches towards it are con-
structed, each engineer having a guard of from 200 to 300
men. That the engineer may have no ditficulty in finding
his way, the lines to be dug out are previously marked by
a cord passing along a row of small poles, fixed in the lines
at convenient distances. This cord may be fastened by one
man after it is dark, or even at any other time ; but par-
ticular care must be taken that no part of the trenches can
be enliladed. If any kind of sortie or surprise is expected
on the part of the garrison, the workmen must always he
provided with a sufiicient guard ; and that this guard, as well
as all the engineers, may be better able to find their way,
sometimes men are placed at certain distances in the even-
ing, before it becomes dark, if that can be done without be-
ing discovered by the enemy. Small fires or ianthorns are
also used on some occasions with advantage.

As soon as the guard arrives at its post, or in the line
which it is to occupy, it pushes a sentry towards the for-
tress at every ten paces, or even at a smaller distance, if
necessary, who lies down, in order to observe every thing
that passes in or near the place. The bulk of the guard
of the trenches may be near the workmen, when an attack
is expected ; but it is better to place them near the depots,
and at such a distance that it may advance to support them
on the first notice or alarm.

As soon as it becomes light, the w'orkmen retire, and
the guard before them also. The guard of the trenches
occupies their place ; and new workmen are sent to finish
such parts as have not been completed during the night.
Should the enemy discover what is intended, and perceive
the opening of the trenches, he will either fire at them, or
attempt a sortie, to attack the workmen. Should the gar-
rison frequently send patroles from the fortress to observe
v/hat is going on in the trenches, these patroles are to be
made prisoners, if possible, without, however, firing upon
them. This may be done by a sm.ill party making a cir-
cuitous route, permitting the patroles of the enemy to pass,
and then cutting oil' their retreat. Should the enemy have
reason to suspect an attack, he will throw light, and fire
balls, to see the besiegers, and then direct liis fire at them ;
but the men in the trenches will receive very little injury
from ihis fire, as, from the circumstances under which it
commences, it must be "very uncertain. The workmeft,

FORTIFICATION.

231

however, will probably be frightened, and run' away. This,
it" possible, is to be prevented, by rcpreseniinL;- the little
danger to which they are exposed ; or, if necessary, they
may be withdrawn for a certain time, till the enemy's fire
ceases. If, however, the men have already proceeded so
far in their digging, as to be nearly protected from the ene-
my's fire, they arc to continue their woik, and no one is al-
lowed to run away or to leave his post, on any pretence
whatever. Should the enemy, however, have a large gar-
rison, and hazard a sortie, or an attack upon the workmen
or their guard, the workmen may be brought back to the
places where they were collected, or to a proper distance,
while the guard of the trenches ad\'anccs to oppose the ene-
my. In such cases, cavalry to cut off' the enemy's retreat
should always be ready. The workmen Dever should be
allowed to disperse, but always be kept in order; and diso-
bedience should be punished on the spot with death, if ne-
cessary. Strict discipline, added to a conciliatory mode of
informing and instructing the men in their duty, will be of
the utmost advantage, and is never to be neglected. The
workmen who come atTtey-break, and even some of the
guard of the trenches, may be usefully employed in com-
pleting either the communication or the parallel begun in
the first night. The next morning after the opening of the
trenches, the engineers inspect it, and observe whether the
enemy can enflank it. Where this is the case, they order
a traverse to be constructed. They also see, that in the pa-
rallel tlie banquettes for the soldiers to fire from are pro-
perly constructed, and that the crest of the parapet is as
nearly of the same height as possible.

As soon as the first parallel has been finished, the rico-
chett batteries are constructed. These are placed either
in, before, or behind the parallel, according to circum-
stances.

The space between every two guns is generally 24. feet ;
and between the mortars, about 15. The depth of the bat-
teries is from 30 to 33 feet ; and a powder-magazine is ge-
nerally placed behind them. The guns on such a battery
are mostly placed at the ends, and the mortars in the mid-
dle. Besides the ricochett batteries, others are constructed
to fire at the magazines of the fortress, in order, if possi-
ble, to destroy them. Such batteries also may be advanta-
geously constructed, even before the trenches are opened,
on heights commanding the town ; and mortar-shells filled
with combustible matter, or red hot balls, as well as fire-
rockets, may here be of great use, in obliging a fortress to
surrender long before a breach has been made. A battery
in the parallel, however, is constructed in the shortest time,
and therefore often the best. Its construction is as follows :
The parallel is made equal in width to the depth of the
battery ; the platforms for the guns are laid ; the inside of
the parapet is finished to the height of the soles of the em-
brasures, and the embrasure begun ; then the parapet is
finished; and afterwards also the embrasures, which gene-
rally, as well as the interior talus of the parapet, are lined
with fascines. The batteries for mortars have no embra-
sures, but are lined like those for guns. The parallel is
in this case conducted round the battery, viz. behind it, in
the same manner as parallels are built. The battery
has generally a parapet, either at its flanks, or before them,
but none behind.

A battery before or behind the parallel is dug out, in
quite a different way. The inner talus is determined at
first at a proper distance from the parallel, and fascines be-
ing laid (lovvn to mark it out, a ditch is dug out before it,
and the parapet constructed in the same manner as direct-
ed in field-fortifications, observing the above rules with re-
gard to the construction of the embrasures. The two
wings or flanks of such a parapet are joined to the paral-

lel, and serve to .secure the communication with it. At
the back of these batteries, generally behind a small tra-
verse, a powder-magazine is constructed to contain am-
munition enougli fur two days, or about 200 shots for each
gun, and 150 for each mortar.

The men employed to construct such a batterv, should
be acquainted with the work. Tiiese batteries being also
constructed during the night, will hardly be complete the
next morning ; and therefore they are sometimes construct-
ed only of fascines, or, what is siili more expeditious, of
sand-bags, if they can he had.

It will be also an advantage, if these batteries can be rc^
gularly traced, and constructed by such a number of men
as do not impede each other in working, but who may al-
ways be fully employed during the time they are there. If
tliese labourers can be relieved every two hours, this will
forward the work very much, and considerably lessen the
time usually required.

As soon as the ricochett batteries arc finished, and also
the first parallel, the fire of these batteries is to begin. Not
a gun, however, is to be fired I'rosn any of them till they ai-e
completely finished, lest they should attract the enemy's
fire ; as this would molest the workmen, and oidy give rise
to confusion, whicli might occasion the total destruction of
a battery, or the dismounting of its ordnance. When the
fire from a battery has once begun, it is to be kept up dur-
ing the day-time ; and if the guns can be levelled at night,
the fire should never cease, that the eneiviy may not be al-
lowed to repair any parts which have been damaged during
the day. The fire is to be made at certain intervals, and
never two shots at the same time from one battery, that the
enemy may always be in a state of alarm. The artillery-
men on one battery are divided into certain parties, one of
which always serves the guns. An officer has the inspec-
tion of each battery, to observe its effect, to correct its le-
velling, and to make such repairs as may be readily done
at the moment, but which, if neglected, might lead to more
serious consequences. Every officer, therefore, is to be
made answerable for the effect, and the accidents in his
battery.

After finishing the parallels and the batteries, those
places on the parallel are to be determined from which the
approaches shall commence. An opening is then cut in
the parapet of the parallel where the workmen are placed
to cut out the approaches, covered in a similar manner as
in the first night. The soldiers serving to guard these
workmen are, if necessary, covered by woolsacks, which
they carry with them, and which, being about the height
of three feet, will cover a man completely.

The second parallel is constructed exactly in the same
manner as the first ; but the work being much more dan-
gerous, from its being nearer the fortress, it ought to be
executed with the greatest possible secrecy and dispatch.
If any part of the parallel has been left unfinished during
the night, it should be done the following day, or, at far-
thest, in the courseof next night. After this, the approaches
towards the fortress are continued in the same manner as
before.

If any point peculiarly favourable to the construction of
ricochett batteries should occur, advantage is to be taken
of it, even in preference to those which it had been previ-
ously proposed to raise. All sallies made by the garrison
are to be met liy the guard of tlie trenches, while the ca-
valry is endeavouring to cut oil' the enemy's retreat. The
guns on the batteries should always have grape-shot ready,
and as soon as an attack of the enemy is perceived, should
be fired at those parts against which the attack is directed.

In order the better to observe the motions of the enemy,
the ground before the parallels bltould be illuminated either

232

FORTIFICATION.

by fires, or by light-balls. The tliird parallel is tlie next
part to be constnicted ; or if it lies too near the enemy, the
dismounting batteries are iirst to be constructed. The
j)roper situation for these is either before or on one side of
tlic approaches, or before tlie third parallel, executed in a
similar manner as the ricochellini; batteries, only that they
jnust be parallel to the faces and flanks. The firing from
these batteries, as formerly observed witli regard to the
others, is not to commence till they are completely ready in
every respect ; hut when once opened, a constant firing is to
be kept up, and the guns should be fired at the same time,
in order to cause as much confusion as possible in the
place.

As the construction of works between the second paral-
lel and the place is very dangerous, an ingenious method
has been devised for covering the workmeu by means of
the sa/ifie. This consists in placing gabions or baskets in
the line where a work of the trenches is to be constructed,
and filling these baskets with earth, so that they serve to
hide the men, and to cover them from the fire of small
arms.

Tliere arc three different modes of conducting the sappe,
viz. the flying sappe, where all the baskets are placed at
once liy a number of men, and then filled as soon as possi-
ble ; the half sappe, where all the baskets are placed at
once, but filled successively; and the complete sappe,
where the baskets are placed successively, so that the man
who places one is covered by the preceding one, or by a
large bag, or a basket full of earth lolled before him. In-
stead of the basket, or sack full of earth roiled before the
men, a blind or board resting on two small wheels, with a
thill, is made use of.

Tlie flying sappe may be made by common workmen,
and also the Iralf sappe ; but, in constructing the complete
sappe, men called sappers must be employed, who are par-
ticularly acquainted with this business. Of these men,. a
sappe will require at least four. The first places the bas-
kets, and partly fills them wiih earth, while he digs a ditch
behind thevn two feet deep, and two wide. He also places
small bundles of rods, fascines, or sand-bags, between every
two baskets. The three that follow him enlarge the fosse
half a foot in depth, and as much in width. These four
men take each others places successively, and are relieved
every two to four hours by new ones. This work can be
conducted by night as well as in the day-time ; but not
more than from 20 to 30 yards can be completed in one
day.

There are also three different kinds of sappes, distin-
guished by their figure, viz. the simple, the double, and
the covered sappe. The first has baskets filled with earth,
or a parapet, only on one side ; the second has a parapet on
both sides ; and the third has not only a parapet on both
sides, but also a shell-proof covering.

The construction of the simple sappe has been already
explained. The double sappe is constructed by making
two simple ones alongside each other ; and the covered
sappe is made like the double, but as soon as possible co-
vered with rafters, and oveilaid with earth. The covered
sappe is generally deeper than the simple or double one.
The direction of the sappe is also different, being cither
zigzag, as A, Plate CCLIX, Fig. 3 ; right-angled, as B ;
in the snake-form, as C ; or with traverses, as D and E.
That which is in form of a zigzag, is used in approaching
the third parallel ; that with right angles, on the covered
way; the snake-form, in tunnels of mines; and that with
traverses, in approaching the covered way, or where cir-
cumstances require a safe and good communication, which
at the same time may in part be used as a place of arms.

In some cases, a third parallel is not constructed, but

the attack proceeds immediately from the second parallel
to the covered way ; while, on the contrary, in many cases,
not only a third, but also a fourili jjaraih I is rctiuired, in
order to cover the progress of the trendies, or the sappe,
with a larger front, and to be always in readiness to support
it with a sufficient force. The third, as well as the fourth
])arallel, are generally constructed like the approaches be-
tween both ; the former by the flying sappe, and the latter
by the ordinary or double sappe, as described above. If a
third and a fourth parallel are constructed, it is usual to
fix there the dismounting-batteries; but if the third paral-
lel is at the foot of the glacis of the covered way, part of
them is before, and part behind.

Should it be found useful to remove the licochetting-
battcries nearer to the fortress, they are placed on crotchets,
or half parallels. If a fortress has lunettes, no fourili pa-
rallel will be wanting, but a lodgment will be necessary, or
a place where the soldiers may be covered on them by a
parapet. When it is necessary, however, that the sappers
should be better supported, and wiicn only a few works of
the fortress are dismounted, a fourth parallel, or a place of
arms along the saliant angles of the covered way, will be
required. Dismounting-liatteries, too, may sometimes be
too distant to reach certain parts of the fortress, and there-
fore the fourth parallel may be necessary to support them ;
but, wherever it is possible, crotchets before the third paral-
lel are preferred, and the fourth parallel is omitted.

A common covered way may either be taken by an as-
sault, or regularly attacked by the sappe. From the third
or fourth parallel, the sappe, and generally the double
sappe with traverses, is conducted to about 25 to 40 yards
from the covered way, and thence to the right and left pa-
rallel, in such a direction as completely to enfilade all the
covered way. Here the cavalliers of the trenches are rais-
ed to a height of about 12 to 18 feet, with a traverse at the
end, to prevent it from being enfiladed from the covered
way.

This cavallier is generally raised by gabions, of which
either four or five lines are in the lowest row, one less in
the second, one less in the third, and only one in the fourth
or uppermost row. One row after the other is filled with
earth; but a second row is never to be begun till the first
is completed. Sometimes a more simple kind of cavalliqr
of the trench is used, having only one row of gabions, each
above the other. To mount these high parapets, stairs are
raised behind them by means of fascines. The attack being
generally directed against the saliant angles of the polygon
or front, and in most cases the heads of the sappe being
equal in number to the angles of a front, viz. the two bastions
and the denii-lune, it will be necessary to conduct these
three attacks by the sappe towards the covered way, all on
the capital lines of the saliant angles. As soon as the at-
tack has arrived at the saliant angles, the cavalliers of the
trench are to be constructed, to the number of at least three
pair. As soon as these are finished, they are filled with
soldiers, who keep up a constant fire along the covered
way, so as to prevent any of the enemy from remaining
there with safety.

In the meantime, the sappers are continued towards the
palisadoes of the covered way, till they are not farther dis-
tant than from six to nine yards, when they are carried to
the right and left, parallel to the covered way, till they
meet in the re-entering angle before the places of arnf>s.
If the enemy be still in force in the places of arms, he is
to be driven out by stone mortars and shells. But if this
fire should not induce him to quit the places of arms, and
if they are very strong, and not to be taken without a breacli
or an opening made in their rampart, then breaching bat-
teries must be raised against them. These are made liiie

FORTIFICATION,

233

the dismounting batteries, bnt mtsre covered from the ene-
my's fire eitlicr by traverses or higher parapets.

If tlic place o!' arms can be attacked by surprise, this
jnay be done as s-oon as tlie sappe along the palisadoes of
the covered way, or lodgement on the crest of the glacis, is
finished, and as soon as it is ascertained tliat none of the ene-
my are iuddcn behind tlie traverses in the covered way. The
place of arms being taken, it is usual to construct a lodge-
ment there, or a place where the soldiers may be covered
from the enemy's fire, and can oppose to him a front along all
the works. Another mode of attacking the covered way
is by assault. This, howevei', cannot be undertaken till ail
the guns in tlie fortress are silenced, and the enemy's works
there can be assaulted without making a breach. But as
the assault is generally attended with a considerable loss of
men, a vigorous attack on the covered way is mostly pre-
ferred. However, when it is determined to bring the siege
to a conclusion in a short time, or M'hcn the works of the
enemy are very weak, and when the chance of success is
probable, the assault is to be vindertaken. This attack is
visually made by volunteers from different regiments, and
their way is cleared by pioneers or carpenters, who hew
down the palisadoes, arc! remove all other obstacles. When
such an attack is resolved on, it is to be made at day-break :
•flie palisadoes are cut down, the soldiers enter the covered
■way, put every one they meet to the sword, and proceed di-
rectly to the place of aims, which must also be taken. If
this can be done by surprise, it is always more advantageous.
The lodgement on the place of arms is made as soon as
possible, and covered with fascines, wool, or sand-bags.
Wool-sacks certainly are of the greatest advantage here,
as they may be easily conveyed from one place to another,
and form a good parapet for the fire of small arms.

If the sappe on the glacis, along the palisadoes, or the
lodgement on the crest of the covered way, has not yet
been made, it must now be done. The attack should al-
ways be undertaken as secretly as possible ; and in order
to surprise the enemy, and where a lodgement on the crest
of the covered way is to be constructed, this attack is to
be made at midnight, that the lodgement may be finished
before day-break.

During the time the lodgement is making, and which is
directed by the engineers, the men who made the assault
lie down and cover themselves as securely as possible from
the enemy's fire, that they may be ready to oppose the ene-
my if he should return, and also to protect the workmen.

As soon as it becomes light, these men retire into the
lodgement, if it be ready; if not, to the next part of the
trench. The lodgement is finished, if possible, the next
(lay, if the enemy's fire is not too destructive to prevent
the workmen from going on.

To prevent accidents, the men who storm the covered
way are to search for the heads of small mines, and if they
discover these, or any other contrivance invented by the
enemy as means of annoyance, they are to be instantly de-
stroyed.

The attack of a covered way by mines being the most
tedious, is only to be undertaken when other methods fail,
or when the enemy uses mines also.

The mines must, in this case, be so constructed, that the
largest globe of compression may easily burst, and that a
proper tunnel or excavation may be made by it for con-
structing a lodgement.

The first method of attacking by mines, is to make a
subterraneous well towards the covered way, of about 4
feet square, and when this has been carried to a proper
distance from the third parallel, a place is to be formed for
depositing the charge j the mine is then to be filled, block-

VoL. IX. Paut I.

ed up, and fired. Experience is live best guide in deter-
mining the quantity of powdei- to be used.

In this manner the work proceeds, till it arrive near the
covered way. As soon as a tunnel of a mine is formed, a
lodgement is directly niade there, that the troops may ad-
vance and take possession of it, and thus gradually approach
the fortress. If some of the enemy's mines and wells are
met with, or if his miner is heard, a mine is directly to be
filled and burst, before he has time to do so with any of his.
But should the mines be destroyed by the enemy bursting
his mines, new ones must be begun, which there is reason
to expect will be more successful, as the enemy will then
have no niure mines at his command.

If the miners should chance to meet those of the enemy,
a subterraneous engagement will ensue, in which smoke-
balls, for producing a poisonous and suffocating smoke,
may be of use. If they succeed in driving the enemy out
of the mine^;, a large one is to be made, and the whole blown
up as soon as possible. In all cases it will be necessary to
keep the most accurate drawing possible of the progress of
the mines, executed from actual surveys.

If one of the enemy's wells be discovered, it is to be fill-
ed at certain spaces with quantities of powder ; these are to
be blocked up properly, and the whole exploded, in order
to form a lodgement or an approach, which, after bursting a
mine, is finished by the sappe. In mining, it will sometimes
happen that the ground is not firm enough, or that springs
are met with, and that the miner is unable to proceed, in
which case new wells arc to be dug out, as before. The
depth of these wells sho\ild, if possible, be 20 to 30 feet be-
low the ground. Large mines are always very advantage-
ous for the besieger, as they favour the construction of
lodgements ; but small mines, which are not seen on the
surface of the ground, are of the greatest advantage to the
besieged, as ttiey are of no use to the enemy, but serve to
destroy his works, and to obstruct his advances.

The mines used to take the covered way may also be
applied in destroying the traverses, and even the places of
arms.

As soon as the covered way is taken, and the lodgement
on it finished, the construction of the breaching batteries is
begun, and, if possible, in such a way that the angle of the
shoulder may be struck by the balls in a perpendicular
direction. But if this cannot be done, and if the front has
a large demi-lune, the breach is to be attempted, 10 to 15
yards from the angle of the basiion.

The breach in the ravelin is made so as to destroy the
intrenchments formed on it, at the same time that the
breach is made ; or if this is not possible, the breach is laid
10 to 15 yards from its saliant angle.

Breaches in counter-guards, lunettes, manteaux. Sec.
are laid as in the demi-lunes, or nearer to their saliant
angles.

At the same time, with these breaching batteries, dis-
mounting batteries are also constructed for destroying the
flanks. The bleaching as well as the dismounting bat-
teries are constructed by the aid of the sappe, in a manner
similar to that before described. But sand bags and wool-
bags are here also of considerable advantage, and where
they are to be had, they should always be used. The fire
of these dismounting and breaching batteries is begun as
soon as they are finished, but never sooner, that they may
not be exposed too much, while they are in an unfinished
state. The shots of one battery are fired at the same time,
and directed at about one-half of the height of the revete-
ment. Every embrasure is to be advantageously blinded
with a gabion, a wool-sack, or a bundle of fascines, while
the men are charging the guns.

234

FORTIFICATION.

During the discharge of the guns for dismounting the
rampart and makiiij"; breaches, the passa|i;e into the covered
way is to be lornied by the sappe, and Irowi lliat the way
to the fosse is made, either by a subterraneous passage, or
by the double and covered sappe. When the subterraneous
passage is formed, it is to be hned and covered with wood,
and carried on to the revetemcnt of tlie counterscarpe.
This is penetrated either by a small mine, or by piercing it,
and makmg an entrance, which is to come about two feet
above the furlace of the water, or as much above the
ground of a dry fosse.

Tlie passage over the fosse is differently constructed, ac-
cording to the nature of tlie foss6. A dry foss^ may be pass-
ed by a double or by a covered sappe ; a wet fosse wliere
the water does not flow, by a fascine dam ; and a foss6
where there is a current, by a kind of fascine dam con-
structed on scufl'olds, to let the water pass by.

The sappe over a dry ditch is made, as described above,
either by mines, or like a double or a covered sappe.

The dam over a wet ditch, where there is no current,
has two parapets ; one at each side, if the enemy's fire is
to be feared in passing the fosse, even though all his guns
at this time should be dismounted, or at least unfit for use
on the attacked side. The dam is regularly and succes-
sively constructed, by forming a layer of fascines, and cov-
ering tiiem with earth, and continuing with this till it be
sufficiently high ; then the parapet is constructed, a new
part begun, and the work proceeds thus till the whole is
iinislied.

A dam over a fosse which has a current, is more difficult.
The first thing is to try whether the current cannot be stop-
ped, or the water let off. When this is impossible, the
scaffolds are placed gradually, the intervals are filled with
fascines, the upper part formed also with fascines and
earth, and then the parapet constructed. The weak parts
are then strengthened, so as to guard as much as possible
against all accidents.

The last part of such a dam generally is a bridge, which
is constructed of long rafters, and covered with fascines and
earth like the other parts of the dam.

When the dam or passage over the fosse is completed,
the assault is determined upon, and secretly and unexpect-
edly undertaken an hour before day-breuk. The outworks
generally are taken before the bastions can be assaulted,
but sometimes, and as often as circumstances allow it,
the outworks are either passed, or the bastion and the out-
works attacked at the same time. As soon as a practica-
ble breach has been made in the rampart, a sufficient num-
ber of volunteers assault the work, and in general soon get
possession of the place. If the gairison retires to an en-
trenchment, that also must be immediately assailed ; but if
this cannot be done, the soldiers lie down, and cover ihem-
sevcs with wool-sacks, till the lodgement is formed by a
number of workmen ordered for this purpose to accom-
pany the soldiers who make the assault.

If this lodgement be practicable for receiving troops, it
is directly to be occupied, and this must be done by day-
break at latest, that the men may not suffer too much from
the fire of the enemy's small arms. Such lodgements are
most expeditiously formed of sand-bags, wooi-sacks, See.

If the assault has been repulsed, or if the lodgement
has not been made in such a way as to be occupied by the
men, and if they have been compelled to leave it, the at-
tack is to be renewed as before. If any apprehensions are
entertained of the enemy's mines, it will be neccessary to
send the miners to lay a mine and to burst it, in order to
form the intrenchment or lodgement there with more ease,
or to force the enemy to leave it before the assault has
Saken place. Works in the gorge of an outwork or a bas-

tion, will frequently prove great impediments to the be-
siegers, and therefore they should be molested by shells,
or be undermined, and thus rendered assailable. But if
neither of these be sufficient to force a work to surrender,
a breaching battery is to be constructed before the lodge-
ment made on this work, in the same manner as before
directed, and then a regular assault is to take place, as
observed of outworks or a bastion A fortress which is
taken by assault is sometimes given up to plunder; but
this very seldom happens in modern times. If, however,
it should be the case, and the assault has succeeded, the
gates are immediately to be opened, and patroles of cavalry
are sent to preserve order. This last precaution becomes
more necessary il the enemy retires to the citadel. If no
plundering is allowed, heavy contributions may often be
raised, and divided among the soldiers.

If a fortress has capitulated, or surrendered by a treaty,
one gate is directly to be occupied, but no person allowed
to pass without a proper passport. The articles in the
treaty and capitulation are executed, and an inventory made
out of all stores, provisions. Sec. taken possession of. Of
these articles, farther notice will be taken in a subsequent
part of our subject. Should the garrison, however, by
some means or other, force the besiegers to raise the siege,
it is done as secretly as possible. The stores of ammuni-
tion are all fired away, or left behind ; and the guns of
light calibres continue their fiie, till all the large ones are
withdrawn. The former are then brought off, followed
by the garrison of the trenches. All that is left is then set
fire to, or destroyed, and pieces of ordnance are spiked
and rendered totally unfit for use.

The siege of a fortress situated on a mountain is more
difficult than if situated in a plain, as the trenches will
frequently be so completely commanded from the fortress,
as to render the progress of the works on that side im-
practicable. In this case those parts must be attacked,
where advantage can be taken of ravines, hollow ways, or
other local circumstances.

Fortresses situated in a moor, or surrounded with water,
so as to communicate only with firm ground round it, by
dams or small necks of land, are to be attacked on those
parts, and a sappe may be conducted on them, so as to
approach covered. To make the parallels longer, or to
construct batteries upon, or by the side of these dams,
sacks filled with earth may be usefully employed ; the
passages made over these earth-sacks are covered with
boards, or fascines, to ensure a firm footing, and that they
may be fit for carrying i^uns.

If the water round a fortress be so deep as to carry boats
with guns, either these, or batteries built on rafters or
floats of wood, are to be stationed at proper places to
boinbard the fortress. This is also to be done from several
points, where the fire can reach the fortress, in order, if
possible, to destroy the stores and provisions there.

Fortresses situated on a stony or rocky soil are difficult to
be attacked, and the works round them can only be con-
structed by earth or wonl-batjs, and by fascines.

Should a town have a citadel, it will be neccessary to
consider, before commencing the attack, whether the ci-
tadel or the fortress is to be assailed first. In all cases
where the citadel coinmands the fortress, and where it will
not be much more difficult to attack it than the town, the
first efforts should be directed against the citadel, and not
against the fortress. When a fortress is to be attacked in
form, the operations may frequently be shortened, by form-
ing a bj-iisgue attack, or beginning with the construction of
the third parallel as the first works of the trenches, and
afterwards making a communication from that to the camp.
The attack proceeds then regularly, and ricochett batteries,

FORTIFICATION.

235

as well as dismounting and breaching batteries, are con-
structed as before.

The last method of attacking a fortress is by tirailleurs.
Batteries are constructed at a great distance, and mounted
•witli mortars and guns of large calibres. As soon as these
batteries have begun their fire, a chain of tirailleurs is
formed all round the fortress, who approach the works,
covering themselves by the excavations and elevations of
the ground, or by the pits, ditches, hollow ways, ravines,
trees, houses, walls, hedges, &C. kc. From such places
they fire at every one who appears on the rampart, or any
other of the enemy's works. The tirailleurs should always
take aim, and avail themselves of every circumstance that
may direct their fire with effect. In general, they have
little to fear from the fire of the garrison ; but if necessary,
they are still better covered, by giving them wool-bags, or
by constructing a parallel for them, and also by combining
their operations with a brusque attack. These tirailleurs
always approach the fortress by degrees, and inclose it as
much as possible, until the covered-way can be taken by
storm ; and the attack is afterwards continued as circum-
stances may require.

The men ordered for this attack are to be properly in-
structed in their duty, and besides, rewards are promised
to them on their executing it completely. They always
retire at night, or when dark, and reappear before day-
light, m order that their fire may begin with the dawn of
day. While this attack of the tirailleurs is going on, the
ordnance also endeavours to annoy the enemy ; and rico-
chett batteries may be constructed to assist the others.
These, however, may be brought closer to the fortress, to
increase their effect. This method of attack was first
practised by the French in the revolutionary war, with
great success ; and, combined with the attack in form, it
certainly does appear well calculated to force an early
surrender.

Having traced the progressive operations of the besiegers
from the first opening of the trenches to the surrender of
the place, we come now to consider the defensive measures
adopted by the garrison.

A fortress, where a siege is to be expected, should always
be put in the best possible state of defence ; by repairing
all the works, placing the palisadoes, constructing the ne-
cessary traverses, and, in short, neglecting nothing which
may render it stronger. The ravelins should have reduits
and weak fronts, strong places of arms, and lunettes, all of
which are to be executed before the siege commences. A
sufficient quantity of ammunition, ordnance, materials for
repairs, and other military stores, is also to be provided.
Embrasures are to be constructed, and the ordnance partly
mounted. Powder magazines arc to be formed in secure
places, and at proper distances from each other, and such
fire-worhs prepared as may be used during the siege.

Care is also to be taken that the hospitals and shell-proof
lodgements be put in a proper state of repair; and, where
such works are wanting, blindages are to be constructed.
These consist of buildings of wood and large rafters, com-
posed of two walls, which incline towards each other, co-
vered with earth, so as to be shell-proof, and protected at
the ends by traverses. Sometimes these blindages are com-
posed only of one such inclined wall of wood, covered with
earth, in which case it is placed towards a rampart or a tra-
verse. Sometimes old buildings, the roofs of which have
been broken down to m.ike its upper side shell-proof, serve
as places where the garrison may reside with safety. Only
stone-houses, however, are chosen for this purpose.

The inhabitants, unless their loyalty be suspected, are to
be divided into parties, and employed as circumstances may
require. The surrounding country is to be rendered as

level as possible, that the enemy may nowhere approach
covered. The bridges round the town are to be destroyed,
and every thing removed that might contribute to keep up
a good communication among the besiegers troops, that
they may have to replace it beibre the siege begins. Suffi-
cient quantities of fuel, and provisions of every kind, are
also to be collected fiqm the neighbouring country, and
patroles or parties are to be sent out to observe the enemy's
manoeuvres. ^Among the different corps of the army sig-
nals are agreed upon, so that, if any troops should arrive
for the relief of the place, the garrison may be able to com-
municate with them, and act in concert. Messengers and
spies are also engaged, to procure information of the
enemy's movements, and to keep up a communication with
the army or other fortresses.

In order to guard against a surprise, the most unremit-
ting vigilance and attention are absolutely necessary. Each
must have a full and perfect knowledge of his duty, and
the place he has to command. As soon as the enemy is
within 36 miles of the fortress, frequent patroles of cavalry
are to be sent out, to gain hourly intelligence of his move-
ments. The gates should never be opened before daylight,
nor a number of men allowed to enter at once. The guards
of the gates should be doubled by night. All channels,
posterns. Sec. are to be kept shut up. Every person who
goes out or in must be strictly examined and carefully ob-
served, particularly the deserters of the enemy. Should
a conspiracy be suspected in the town, the inhabitants are
to be menaced and disarmed, and all meetings are to be
dispersed. Strong cavalry patroles should be constantly
sent through the streets. The garrison must be kept in
good spirits; and, if possible, after great fatigues, some
extra allowance, either in money or otherwise, should be
made to them.

The quarters of the rnen belonging to one troop should
always be close together, that they may easily collect; and
the commandant should frequently make trials of their
watchfulness, by giving false alarms, and keeping them
constantly on their guard, taking care, however, not to
fatigue or harass them too much, and never suffering any
neglect of duty to pass unpunished.

A citadel is always very useful in the event of a surprise,
as the troops may collect there, and act against the enemy
with more regularity, and with a greater chance of driving
him back. Besides, the possession of a town commanded
by a citadel is of very little use to the enemy. But should
a surprise have taken place, all the troops are to collect at
the spot fixed on, from which they proceed to join on the
places to be defended. As soon as the greater part of the
garrison is collected, detachments are sent to the different
streets to repulse the enemy, and particularly to reinforce
the gates, to prevent a greater number from entering the
town. The enemy may thus regularly be repulsed, and
even a part of his troops be cut off.

If the garrison, however, is too weak to defend itself,
it must retire to the citadel, or look out for a safe retreat.
Should the inhabitants take part against the garrison, it
will be necessary to set fire to the town in several places.
But the greatest attention of tlie commander is necessary
to prevent disorder, as this alone will increase the loss more
than any thing, and therefore the necessary instructions are
to be previously given, that every one may know his place
and his proper duty in case of a surprise. In an open
attack, the defenders have great advantages over the as-
sailants, and these being duly considered, and properly re-
presented to the garrison, will contribute much to increase
its spirit. When such an attack is expected, great care is
necessary in making the mo t judicious arrangements,
both with regard to the worV.o that ought to be defended,
G g 2

236

FORTIFICATION.

and the number of men requisite for tliat purpose. The
plan of the enemy must if possible be ascertained by spies,
or some other secret means. When the side of the attack
is known, fire and light balls are to be thrown in that direc-
tion, and, when the enemy is perceived, he must be op-
posed with grape shot.

As soon as he arrives in the fosse, gi'cnades, shells, and
other artificial fire-works, are to be used. When he at-
tempts to mount the rampart, large trees, and other heavy
bodies, are to be rolled over the parapet upon him; and
should he arrive, bayonets must be used. If he succeed
in getting possession of the rampart, he must be cliarged
by the cavalry, and reinforcements of infantry. Should
these also be repulsed, the streets are to be defended, and
finally the signal given for retreating to the citadel, which
should be done with the greatest possible order.

The defence against a blockade, consists in having plenty
of stores and provisions, and magazines where they can be
safely preserved. All unnecessary persons are to be sent
out of the town ; the inhabitants that remain, are to be or-
dered to lay in a sufficient stock of provisions, and pre-
miums promised for the importation of these articles. Such
provisions as are in the place must be properly distributed,
that they may not be consumed in an useless manner.
Should provisions be scarce, the houses are searched, to
know what stores the inhabitants may have, of which a part
may be taken for money, if necessary. Should money be-
come scarce, some of it may be stamped to increase its no-
minal value. Copper may be coined, or loans contracted.
The garrison besides should have safe habitations ; and
sometimes sorties or attacks must be made, with smaller
or larger parties, against the enemy, in order to annoy him,
and to procure provisions. If, however, these sallies prove
unsuccessful, great care is to be taken that the enemy does
not penetrate into the fortress with the troops who make
the sortie.

The defence of a place against cut aitacf: inform, is sub-
jected to greater ditVicultics. The first thing necessary, is
to obtain a knowledge of the enemy's designs. The for-
tress which the enemy is most likely to besiege, may be
known by the march or the quarters of his troops, by his
intention to conquer a certain province, by spies, or by in-
formation collected in the enemy's country. The comman-
dants of fortresses should always advertise one another of
such movements. Should a corps, with a great number of
engineers or heavy artillery, arrive near a fortress, the com-
mandant may be assured that such a circumstance is pre-
paratory to a siege. In this case he immediately visits
every part of the fortress, and orders all necessary repairs.
The superior officers are assembled as well as the magis-
trates, and the commandant infornjs them of his intentions
as far as necessary, and menaces with punishment those
who may act contrary to the orders which he shall issue.

The garrison is then properly divided, that no part may
have more labour to undergo than another; and never
should too large a number be ordered on duty, unless the
fortress has a very numerous garrison. A journal is to be
kept, in which every circumstance that may occur during
the siege is entered.

If every thing has been prepared, and the enemy's engi-
neers should make their appearance, they are to be receiv-
ed with a discharge of grape-shot or balls. This only,
however, in case of their approaching in parties, as this
sort of ammunition is never to be wasted on a single man.
Small calibres are generally used for this purpose, to pre-
vent the besieger from becoming acquainted with the range
of the ordnance. That the engineers may not approach
during the night, small posts are placed before the covered
way. The commandant also takes care to keep up a com-

munication with the army, or the neighbouring furtresscs,
that, if succours arrive, they may be able to enter with fa-
cility. Should any parts of the enemy's camp lie within
reach of the fire of the garrison, it is to be cannonaded as
soon as finished, but not sooner. To prevent the enemy
from getting acquainted with the weakest side of the for-
tress, a great smoke may be made, by burning straw, or
firing smoke-balls of various kinds, so as to conceal seve-
ral fronts. Sometimes also false drawings, or similar de-
vices, may serve to give the enemy an erroneous idea of
the strength of diH'crent fronts.

The side which the enemy is determined to attack, may
be known from the situation of his depots of materials, and
from seeing the engineers constantly at work. This front,
in particular, is to be put into a proper state of defence, the
country before it being illuminated during the night by fire-
balls, and outposts must be placed before the covered way.
Small works are here also useful, in making the besieger
begin his first parallel, as well as all his others, at a great
distance. When it is necessary to leave these works, to
prevent the enemy deriving any advantage from them,
their parapets are to be sprung and destroyed by small
mines.

When it has been discovered, by means of spies or light
balls, when and where the enemy opens his trenches, a
constant fire must be kept up, in order to disperse the
workmen. Next morning the engineers are to survey the
enemy's work, and a fire opened on such parts of them as
can be enfiladed. In the beginning of the siege, a strong
fire ought to be kept up, to hinder the enemy from com-
pleting his works; but afterwards it is directed only to
those places where it may be of the greatest use, particu-
larly where the enemy has to construct his batteries.

Should the enemy's batteries be finished, the guns are
rather to be withdrawn than destroyed ; but if one of the
enemy's batteries can be dismounted, all the force is at
first directed against one merlon, and then against the
others successively.

Such parts of the foi tress as have been damaged must be
repaired during the night, that they may be in a proper
state for service the following morning.

Should the enemy's parallel come so close to the cover-
ed way, that the fire of small arms can reach it, riflemen
should be placed there, to fire at every one who may ap-
proach the trenches, particularly when the engineers or
officers appear. The fire of the riflemen should also be
directed against the head of the trenches, or where they
are not quite finished, as also where batteries are to be
erected.

For the same purpose also, small pieces of ordnance,
and in particular small mortars, placed in the saliant angles
of the rovered way, may be used with the greatest advan-
tage. Counter approaches are sometimes used ; but cer-
tainly they are of no benefit, it being ridiculous to suppose
that a garrison cnn, with any advantage, besiege the army
by which it is itself besieged.

Another means of defence against a siege, are sorties or
sallies, for the purpose of procuring provisions, opening a
communication with the army, or attacking some part of
the enemy's works. They are undertaken sometimes be-
fore, and sometimes after the place has been invested ; and
they differ in the strength of the parties employed, accord-
ing to the object in view.

Sorties against the enemy at soms distance from the for-
tress, are sometimes liable to be cut off, and therefore only
to be undertaken when the retreat can be secured. As
such sorties also generally cost a great many men, they
should only be undertaken when there is a fair prospect of
obtaining some particular advantages, and where the gar-

FORTIFICATION.

53t

rison is so strong that a sufficient number will remain to
defend the fortress properly.

Sorties which require a strong force, should never be
undertaken unless they have a particular object in view,
and then they are to be made by a sufficient number of
troops to execute it without difficulty. Particular circum-
stances sometimes determine a garrison to make a strong
sortie ; but it is never in this case to be done if the men
could afterwards be of greater service in the defence of the
fortress. What relates to the execution of these sorties,
the nature of the ground, and the different movements, will
be farther illustrated under other articles.

Small sorties are generally made by parties of about 20
to 30 men, who secretly leave the covered way, and attack
suddenly with great noise. They then destroy every thing
belonging to the trenches, or set fire to them, spike up the
enemy's guns, overload them, &c. for all which purposes
they are provided with the necessary assistance of work-
men, tools, and materials, taking care always to retreat as
soon as the enemy's reinforcements arrive. These little
attacks are particularly useful after a mine has been sprung,
before the garrison of the tVenches has recovered from its
fright, and order restored.

The most advantageous time for attacks is midnight, or
towards morning, when the troops in the trenches are still
fatigued by their labours during the night.

But no sortie should be made with two large a force, lest
the enemy meanwhile make a successful attack on another
part, while the largest force has been drawn farther away
from the fortress. In general, the number of men employ-
ed in a sortie should never exceed one half of the garrison.
Small garrisons should never make a sortie with more than
one-fourth of their number, unless it be to open a commu-
nication for retreating with all the garrison. The retreat
from a sortie is always to be covered by some infantry and
cavalry, but particularly by riflemen in the covered way,
and by ordnance mounted on the ramparts.

The defence of a common covered way can only be made
by soldiers being placed there, and covered by the tra-
verses. They keep up a constant fire towards the enemy's
works, particularly during the night, and towards the head
of the sappe, in order to prevent him effecting his lodge-
ment along the covered way. If there is reason to suspect
that a forced attack will be made on the covered way, it
will be advantageous to place a greater number of soldiers
to defend it, as also to make small mines under the tra-
verses, and even under the glacis, where the enemy has to
construct his lodgements. The hearths of these mines
should be close to the work in the re-entering angle. If
the enemy has driven the garrison out of the covered way,
and it has retreated from one traverse to the other, and to
the places of- arms, the mines are sprung gradually, and
also those under the glacis. But if the enemy has entered
in a disorderly manner, he is to be attacked, and if possible
repulsed.

The soldiers in the places of arms, as well as some small
guns placed there, will always most beneficially direct their
fire upon the enemy, and be particularly useful in taking
him in flank, or in filing at him when advancing or retreat-
ing. Should the covered way be attacked by the sappe,
the construction of the cavaliers of the trench is particu-
larly obstructed by a constant fire from the covered way.

A polygon, where there are counter mines, may always
be defended longer than where there are none. If the ene-
my should not begin to mine, the garrison must endeavour
to spring theirs under some of his works, particularly his
batteries. This will retard not only his advancing from
the third parallel, but also force him to commence mining.
The most favourable moment for making an attack on the

enemy, is after a mine has been sprung, and therefore a
sortie is then to be hazarded.

I f the enemy has begun to mine and to dig a well, it will
be necessary to discover the place, and immediately spring
a mine under it. This is repeated as often as he can be dis-
eovered.

The near approach of the enemy's mine may sometimes
be detected by placing a drum on the ground, and scatter-
ing a few peas on its top. If the miner be very near, his
digging will communicate a tremulous motion to the drum,
and of course to the peas. When this takes place, the
countermine is immediately to be sprung. If the enemy's
well is discovered before the countermine is ready, the
former may be filled with the poisonous smoke of fire-balls.
The miners ought always to be armed with large pistols,
to defend themselves, should they fall in with those of the
enemy. In this case subterraneous fortifications will also
be necessary.

If there be any small works in the saliant angle of the
covered way, they will keep the enemy at a certain dis-
tance as long as they can be occupied, and therefore this
is done till he is ready to assault it, and even then they are
not to be left, unless it be found impossible to defend them.

An avant-fosse that is full of water, is frequently of great
use, as it prevents the enemy from passing it, or construct-
ing a bridge, as long as there are guns to enfilade it.

A second covert way, particularly if it has a strong work
in its re-entering angle, is also useful, and keeps the enemy
some time longer ; but ih defending it, care is to be taken
that it is not surprised, when the covert way before it is
taken. In order to deceive the besieger as much as pos-
sible as to the number of ordnance in a fortress, the fire
should be directed principally at the first parallel, at the
batteries, and at the head of the sappe : in all others it may
be slackened, which will induce the enemy to believe that
many of the guns are dismounted.

W^hen the enemy approaches the covered way, and is en-
deavouring to construct his lodgement there, or to effect
his passage over the fosse, the guns that have been pre-
served are to be opened upon him, and an unremitted fire
kept up as long as they are fit for use.

Such works as have sustained much injury, are always
to be repaired with all possible dispatch, and ordnance is
to be planted behind them to be ready for use. If the ene-
my has taken possession of the covert way, it will be ne-
cessary first to spring the mines there, in order to throw
him into confusion, and then to attack him and drive him
back.

The defence of the fosse is the next most essential part ;
but cannot be of long duration, for if the counterscarpe is
lost, all is lost. Still, however, a gun, or several riflemen,
will be of the greatest use to hinder the passage of the
fosse ; and sallies also may be made if the ditch is dry. If
the fosse be wet, fire-machines will be useful to set the fas-
cines of the enemy on fire; and where the water can be
let in and out at pleasure, the enemy may be harassed for a
considerable time. Even when he thinks himself master
of the fosse, his works may be destroyed by a sudden inun-
dation. The besieged always have great advantages when
the enemy is among their works, as confusion is likely to
take place. In such circumstances too, a sally may be
successfully made.

The defence of the outworks, after the enemy has made
a breach, is either attempted on the top of the breach, or
from the work in its re-entering angle. In the first case,
the enemy is to be attacked by small mines, artificial fire-
works, and rafters thrown down upon him, care being ta-
ken that he '*-"'- tiot overcome all these impediments, and
penetrate ^^e sectR^ns, where otherwise a good defence

238

FORTIFICATION.

might have been made. As soon as the enemy has taken
an outwork, and begins to construct his lodgement there, a
small gun, or some riflemen, are to molest liim constantly.
Mines are also to be sprung under his lodgement, or any
work where he has constructed a lodgement, an attack be-
ing always made upon him after every explosion.

Should an outwork be countermined, and the enemy be-
gins a subterraneous war, he must be opposed as formerly
directed.

If the enemy's well be discovered under a work, it may
be filled, as we formerly observed, with poisonous smoke,
and his miner be killed by grenades and shells thrown in
the fosse, or by others hung before his well, and afterwards
burst.

If, after the enemy has taken an outwork, he can be again
dislodged, all endeavours must be used for that purpose ;
and to effect this, the most probable appear to be, to make
a sally after bursting a mine, and to destroy his communi-
cation over the fosse.

The defence of the rampart, so often neglected, though
great labour is frequently used in constructing it, is the
last part of the defence of a fortress. The assault here
may be sustained, when a strong section is to be had, or
when there is a retreat to a place, where the garrison may
wait till a convention be concluded, or succours arrive.
Sometimes, however, circumstances do not allow the gar-
rison to wait an assault, and, in this case, the commandant
capitulates, either to save the lives of many, or to prevent
the inhabitants from being plundered. When the defence
of the rampart is resolved on, the same rules are to be ob-
served as in the defence of outworks.

Circumstances must determine whether the enemy is to
be opposed in the bieach, or attacked from the section.
The latter is to be preferred, unless there is every reason
to believe that the former will prove successful. A sally
at the time of the assault may sometimes be useful ; but
is always in such circumstances to be undertaken with cau-
tion.

A fortress with a citadel may be defended as long as pos-
sible; and when the enemy has penetrated by an assault,
and when every thing necessary has been sent into the cita-
del, the troops are to withdraw to it, taking care that the
enemy does not enter along with them. Rather than run any
risk of this, indeed, part of the garrison is to be shut out. If
the commandant is at last convinced that the fortress must
surrender, he orders the chamade to be beaten on the at-
tacked front, or he sends an officer to the enemy, to pro-
pose an armistice. If this be granted, he sends some intel-
ligent officers to the enemy to conclude a capitulation, or
the capitulation may be concluded in the town, the enemy-
sending two or more officers, with proper powers and in-
structions for that purpose.

The garrison on capitulating, either has a free retreat,
and immediately marches out, or it leaves the fortress and
surrenders on the glacis, either as prisoners of war, or un-
der an engagement not to serve against the country of the
besieger or his allies during a certain time. The officers
and men generally keep their luggage, and the former also
their swords. The place to which they shall be conducted,
how they shall be paid, and when exchanged, are all agreed
upon in the articles of capitulation.

The prisoners of war and the deserters are, if possible,
kept ; but are also someiimes delivered up to the enemy.
The magazines are either emptied and destroyed, or de-
livered up. The works of the fortress, and the keys of all
places, are given up. One gate is generally placed in the
hands of the besiegers at the time of the ratification ; but
no person is allowed to pass who is not provided with a
proper passport. The garrison has to leave this town on a

certain day. All points which may not be well explained,
are to be construed to the advantage of the garrison. A
citadel near a town makes somelimtb an alteration in the
articles ; as, if the town is given up, the citadel is always re-
tained. Sometimes it is stipulated, that if, duiing a certain
time, no relief arrives, the articles of the capitulation are
to be fulfilled. But the most advantageous points and ar-
ticles are generally proposed to the enemy, and adhered to
as long as possible ; and therefore every commandant ought
to be prepared with articles of this kind adapted to his case ;
for the sending copies of articles of capitulation for ap-
proval or rejection, at the close of a siege, is merely done
with the hope of gaining time. The enemy will always re-
turn an answer, and by this it may be known what articles
are to be expected.

To see the terms of the capitulation carried into effect,
two officers of high rank are given as hostages, who are set
at liberty as soon as the capitulation is fulfilled. The non-
execution of any of the articles of capitulation on either side,
will only cause reprisals, and these frequently are attended
with bad consequences. To prevent this, every thing is
determined as minutely as possible, and all articles are then
strictly fulfilled.

Various methods may be employed, and in some cases
successfully, for obliging the enemy to raise the siege, par-
ticularly if the garrison acts in conjunction with an army.
The army may in these circumstances either attack the
enemy, or cut off his provisions and succours, which sel-
dom fail in forcing him to raise the siege. The army may
also attack either the besieging army, or the corps of ob-
servation ; but this should always be done with the know-
ledge of the garrison, in order that it may act in concert.

Sometimes a siege may be raised by the exertions of the
garrison alone, as by sallies judiciously conducted, and
mines well applied ; but by whatever means this may be ef-
fected, the garrison ought to make sallies during the night
in which the besieger withdraws his ordnance, for the pur-
pose of annoying him as much as possible.

Should a fortress be attacked by tirailleurs, as was ex-
plained in enumerating the different modes of attacking a
fortress, the best defence will be made by small guns plac-
ed in the most saliant parts of the works for firing grape
shot. Riflemen will also be advantageously employed in
attacking them, in the same manner as they attack the for-
tress. When, however, whole troops of the enemy's men
are perceived, guns of a small calibre, charged with grape
shot, are chiefly to be depended upon. In other respects,
the defence is the same as has been already described.

SECT. II.

On the Attack and Defence of Field For tif cations ,

The attack and defence of field fortifications, is neither
so difficult nor so tedious as that of fortresses.

The arrangement of a whole fortified line is as follows :
The camp is generally about 400 paces from the lines. The
works are usually occupied two men deep, or with two
rows of soldiers; the reserve is placed about 100 paces
behind it, in order to give support wherever it may be re-
quired ; and each battery, as well as each squadron and bat-
talion, has its particular place assigned to it. As soon as
the alarm-gun is fired, each man must repair to his post
as speedily as possible, completely armed, and ready to act.

To secure the fortifications from a suiprise, the light in-
fantry posts are about 5000 paces before the works. If, how-
ever, the country is inclosed, or woods are near them, the
chain of these posts is thicker, viz. about from 500 to 2000
paces distant from the works. Among these posts constant

FORTIFICATION.

239

patroles are sent round. If the enemy be close to the works,
at least onc-lialf of these posts must always be underarms.
During the day, the same is to be observed by all the out-
posts, and sometimes also by all the men in a camp. The
arrival of the enemy is generally known, as in the case of
fortresses, from deserters, spies, &c. When the enemy
approaches, the outposts are to engage him, and keep
him as long as possible at a distance, that the troops may
have time to form. The works are then quickly occupied,
the artillerymen having previously made lliemselves ac-
quainted wilh the distances before the works, that they may
level their guns accordingly. The guns in the saliant an-
gles begin their fire as soon as the enemy is within reach.
If a few guns, by advancing, can take a part of the enemy's
force in flank, it will be of great consequence. The infantry
begin their fire when the enemy is at about 300 paces dis-
tant. As soon as he comes sufficiently near the works, the
guns are to be dismounted, and their places filled up by in-
fantry. But if he should advance to the ditch, artificial fire-
woiks are made use of; and if he ascends the [larapet, a
brisk fire must be kept up, followed by a charge with the
bayonet, and the first rank standing upon the parapet.
Should the enemy have penetrated in any part, the cavalry
are to charge him belore he forms. The reserve must now
pay the greatest attention; and the horse artillery, as soon
as the enemy has penetrated, will be of great use in throw-
ing him into disorder, of which the cavalry must take ad-
vantage. In the mean time, the infantry forms, and returns
to the attack. If the enemy should be compelled to retreat,
he is not to he pursued too hastily, lest, by rallying, he should
succeed in entering the interior intrenchments along with
the troops that retreat thither ; but the ordnance must at
this moment play upon the enemy with all possible vigour.

The defence of single forts is almost the same as above
mentioned, except that the garrisons have to encamp in
their respective forts ; and that the single forts are sup-
ported by the ordnance as well as by the infantry, both be-
ing drawn up in line behind them. The artillery is brought
wherever the principal attack is made, and must be employ-
ed with the utmost effect. Should the enemy be repulsed,
or be thrown into disorder at any point, the cavalry suddenly
advances, charges directly, and pursues, but always keeps
closed, and in good order.

It the attack of the enemy should be undertaken in the
night, then the country round the fortifications is illuminat-
ed by light-balls or by fires, for which purpose wood must
previously have been brought thither.

The troops should always be acquainted with what they
have to expect from the works, and how they can turn them
to the best account in their defence. The moment of the
attack is intimated to them, as also the danger to which
they will be exposed if they should be defeated; and, on
the contrary, how much they will gain if victorious. Con-
vince a soldier that his honour is at stake, and the work
which he is to defend will be easily fortified.

To keep the men always on the alert, a false alarm may
sometimes be given; but care must be taken that this is
not too frequently resorted to, lest they neglect to be pre-
pared when a real attack is made.

The attack of fortified lines should not be undertaken be-
fore an accurate knowledge has been procured of the works
which the enemy has constructed to oppose it. The attack,
as before observed, is most advantageously made an hour
before day-break. The fortifications should, if possible, be
taken in rear, by going round them, which may be most
favourably done by a night march, provided there be no
danger of mistaking the road, which might lead to great
confusion, and disastrous consequences.

Each attack is to be made in a column. The first are
the grenadiers or volunteers ; then a number of armed
workmen, with shoveK, fascines, woolsacks, ladders, &c.
for filling up the fosse, and ascendmg the parapet. Alter
the workmen, follow a number of infantry to second the
grenadiers, and then a sufficient number of cavalry and
artillery to support the whole. Besides the real attack, a
feigned one is generally undertaken to mislead the enemy.
This attack, however, must never be too weak, that it may
follow up its success with sufficient force. The wings be-
ing generally the weakest points, are usually attacked at
the same time, in order, as much as possible, to disperse the
enemy. Should an attack be supported by ordnance, it
must be superior in force to that of the enemy. If it be
an open attack, the light guns always advance with the at-
tack, and fire. The attack may in this case be made en
ec/ietlon. As soon as arrived on the counterscarpe, the
grenadiers commence their fire, while the workmen fill the
fosae, and make it practicable. As soon as the grenadiers
commence the assault, and collect in the fosse, the infantry
also begin their fire from the counterscarpe. After the
fosse IS passed, the impediments in the berme are removed,
and the parapet is assaulted at once. If the assault be suc-
cessful, the cavalry and more infantry directly follow, and
form behind the parapet, to attack the enemy wherever he
appears, and to increase the disorder caused by the fly-
ing troops. The guns ot the fortifications are now directed
towards the enemy, always taking care tiiat order be pre-
served, and room made for a large force to penetrate, and
attack with more vigour.

Snould detached works be attacked, there should be as
many columns ol attack as there are works to be attacked.
All these columns are connecletl by infantry. At least so
many works are to be attacked, that the troops employed
to attack one work may have little or nothing to fear from
the neighbouring works. The cavalry advance whenever
the grenadiers begin the assault. As soon as the redoubts
or works are taken, the infantry also advances, supported
by the ordnance ; the second line of the army remaining
about 30u paces back, to cover the retreat if necessary.

Snould artillery support the attack, it advances to with-
in about 100 paces ol the works, where it stops and opens
on the enemy's troops, the cavalry at the same lime charg-
ing wherever disorder is perceived in the enemy's army.

If it be thought necessary that the fortifications be can-
nonaded before the attack is undertaken, it may be done
the day previous to the attack ; but no time should be left
for the enemy to repair the works before the attack is made.

The attack and defence of single forts are contlucted in
the same manner ; and the saliant angles are always chosen
as the weakest points. Any single fort, however, is always
to be taken by surprise, if possible, which is to be executed
during the night. An open attack is always supported by
ordnance, and commences only after sufficient breaches or
openings have been made in the enemy's works.

Vigilance, some outposts, and frequent patroles, are the
best defence against a surprise; but if it is expected, one
half of the men must always be under arms.

Fortifications situated on rivers may be attacked as de-
scribed above, but what relates to the manoeuvres and pre-
vious movements, will with greater propriety be introduc-
ed under the article Tactics. A house or a small estate
is most advantageously attacked by an howitzer or a piece
of ordnance, as, if struck by a single shell, it will be forced
to surrender. If such a house has no flanking defence, it
may sometimes be set on fire. Perhaps a secret entrance,
or ladders, may be of use, and are to be applied, if circum-
stances will permit. The defence of such a house may

240

FORTIFICATION.

sometimes be kepi iip very long. Even if the enemy has
penetrated one part, he may be again repulsed if not very
btrong, or il" his succours do not arrive in time.

An estate, or a church-yard, which has been foriified,
may always be advantageously attacked by guns; and af-
ter an opening has been made, it may be carried by as-
sault. The defence of a fortified village requires more
circumspection. All passages to it are to be taken pos-
session of, and sufficient posts and patroles are sent out,
lo prevent a surprise. All works are to be occupied only
by detachments ; and t!ie reserve must be near the princi-
pal work, or stationed at such a place, that it niay easily
afford succour to any part. As soon as an alarm is given,
all the works are pro[)erly occupied, and succours sent if
necessary. The side of attack is to be discovered if pos-
sible, and particularly strengthened; but other fronts are
also not to be neglected. To prevent the force from being
too much dispersed, it will tlicrefore always be advisable
not to occupy too large a circunil'crcncc, but ratiier to be
content with the defence of a strong post by a concentrated
force. The attack of a village is generally made in two
or more parts, one being the real and the other a feigned
attack. But before it is undertaken, every proper and ne-
cessary information respecting the works should be pro-
cured, either by spies, or by reconnoitring.

The infantry penetrates iirst, and are immediately fol-
lowed by the cavalry. This attack is in every respect the
same as that of camps, already explained.

The defence of a country town may sometimes be kept
up for a considerable time. As soon as its defence is re-
solved upon, a general place of alarm is chosen, all the
streets are ordered to be illuminated if the alarm is given
at night, and no inhabitant is to appear at that time. The
posts, guards, and sentinels, must be attentive, and pa-
troles are also to be sent round the town. In the day-time,
posts are placed before the gates at greater distances.
No gates towards the country should be opened at night,
until there has been a close examination and proper
lights, lest the enemy should attempt a surprise ; and never
should more than one man be allowed to enter at a time.
If necessary, the inhabitants are to be disarmed. The
soldiers are to be quartered in such a manner, that each
may soon repair to his post, and to such works as he has
to defend.

To prevent the enemy from approaching secretly, the
surrounding country is to be surveyed, and every thing
that may favour his approach is to be levelled. The gates
should be barricadoed, and every one who goes out or en-
ters must be known by an inhabitant, who must be made
answerable for his conduct. No assemblages of people
are allowed, and particularly near the gates. If the ene-
my advances to the attack, no fire is to be opened upon
him till it can be done with effect. Sliould he penetrate
at any part, a force must immediately be collected to op-
pose him, taking care always that a retreat be secured,
even though a capitulation should be the consequence.
The most advantageous mode of attack is by surprise,
•which is to be effected in the same way as the surprise of
a fortress. The same applies to towns, and indeed to for-
tified places of all kinds.

When a town is set on fire, the inhabitants usually in-
treat or compel the commandant to surrender^

Should the enemy undertake a sortie, or if a gate can
by any means be penetrated, it will hasten the surrender of
the town. In all cases, however, the retreat of the enemy
is if possible to be cut off.

A most advantageous attack of such a town is made
by tirailleurs, in the same manner as has been explain-
ed in the Section on the Attack of Permanent Fortifications.

Skelc/i of Carvot's Method of Defending Fortified
Places.

From the account which we have now given of the at-
tack and defence of fortified places, liie reader must have
observed, that when a foitress is regularly invested, how-
ever strong it may be, its fall after a ccitain period is con-
sidered as a matter of course. The maximum of that pe-
riod we formerly stated at 90 days. In the actual stale of
things, however, il seldom exceeds the half of that, and
even this is considered a good defence. In proof of these
remarks, we subjoin the calculation which Vaiiban gives
of the duration of the siege, supposing the place to be
strongly fortified and well ganisoned.

Days.

From the investment of the place till the opening of

the trenches 9.

From the opening of the trenches till the attack of

the covered way 9

The attack and capture of the covered way ... 4

Passage of the fosse of the demi-lune 3

Making a practicable breach in the ravelin ... 4

Taking the reduit of the ravelin 3

Passage of the great ditch commencing before the

ravelin was taken 4

Making a practicable breach in the place ... 4

Defence of the breaches 2

Surrender of the place i.fter capitulation .... 2

Negligence and errors of the enemy 4

Total ... 48

We have already observed, that the application of such
calculations to the operations of moral causes, may per-
haps at first sight appear absurd. It is to be remember-
ed, however, that from the superior force which the be-
siegers can always command, it is impossible that any place
can hold out for an indefinite period. It seems reasonable,
therefore, that certain laws should be established among
nations with regard to the surrender of fortified places, in
order to prevent the obstinacy of an individual being the
cause of an unnecessary effusion of human blood. Such
laws have accordingly been generally recognised, and those
who persevere in their defence of a place, after it ought
by these laws to surrender, are considered as having de-
prived themselves of the privileges usually granted to pri-
soners of war. A modern writer on fortification, IM. now
Count Carnot, has, however, advanced a very different doc-
trine. Reasoning on that fundamental principle of milita-
ry discipline, that every soldier ought to die rather than
give up his post, he maintains, that such calculations as
we have detailed above, are generally false, and that, when
they are true, they tend only to crush the spirits and para-
lyze the efforts of the defenders. He considers the cou-
rage and determined perseverance of the garrison as the
strongest bulvark, and therefore condemns every thing
that tends in the slightest degree to depress or extinguish
these. Such reasoning, however, would scarcely be enti-
tled to notice, and certainly would never contribute, in any
essential degree, to prolong the defence of a place, unless
it were accompanied with something more substantial than
mere declamation. To support his arguments, therefore,
Carnot has proposed a new system of defence, against
which he considers the present method of attack altogeth-
er inefficient. Admitting what, indeed, cannot be denied,
that if the besiegers are permitted to proceed step by step
with th.eir approaches and parallels, as in the ordinaiy way.

FORTIFICATION.

241

the guns of the fortress will soon be silenced, and the fall
of the place must follow; he sets out with slicwing how
the progress of the enemy is to be retarded. This is prin-
cipally to be done by irregular sorties, so contrived, that
the sallying force may always be greater than the force to
be attacked. The sallies commonly made in the present
system of defence are too regular to be elVectual. They
are always made at the same points, where, of course, the
enemy is always prepared to receive them ; so that, be-
fore they can succeed in destroying any of the works, they
must combat a superior force. But by contriving to have
a great number of points from which sorties can be made,
the garrison may have frequent opportunities of attacking
an inferior force, so as to insure success in destroying the
works intended, without sustaining any considerable loss.
By these, frequently repeated, the enemy's progress is re-
tarded, his troops are harassed, and he is obliged to em-
ploy a much greater number in defending his workmen, as
it is only by a very strong guard at every possible point of
attack, that he can protect his intrenchmcnts from the dis-
astrous effects of these sorties. But even should he have
men enough to form sufficient guards on every part of his
works, by crowding great numbers into one place, he only
exposes them to a more certain destruction, from the im-
mense number of vertical fires {J'eux verlicaux), which
form the second, and indeed the principal part, of Garnet's
method of defence. These consist of mortars of different
calibres, elevated at an angle of about 45 degrees behind
the parapet, and covered by blindages. In this way, the
guns themselves, as well as the men who work them, are
completely protected, both from the direct and ricochett
fire of the enemy. When used, they are loaded with a
charge sufficient to carry the shot to such a height, as that,
by its descent, it shall acquire velocity enough to prove
fatal to the person whom it may strike. Of the eft'ect
produced by these vertical fires, when substituted for the
greater part of horizontal guns, in a garrison of an ordi-
nary size and strength, Carnot gives the following calcula-
tion.

The vertical fires are supposed to commence only when
the enemy opens his third parallel, as the distance previous
to this would render their effects less certain. From this
period till the opening of the breaches, the usual calcula-
tions allow 10 days; and the effects of the vertical fires
during these 10 days may be found thus.

Supposing the third parallel to be 100 yards from the
flanked angles of the bastion and of the ravelin, and the
length of the exterior side of the polygon 360 yards, the
field occupied by the besieging army will be nearly 36,000
square yards; but, in order to calculate on the ininimum
effect of the fire, call it 60,000 yards.

It is now necessary to ascertain how much of this space
is actually covered by the bodies of the men who act as la-
bourers and guards of the besiegers works. The number
of these men is generally estimated at three-fourths of the
garrison, a smaller proportion being found too weak for
resisting the sallies of the besieged. Supposing then that
the garrison consists only of 4000, the guard of the trench-
es will be at least 3000, that is, 3000 men will be spread
over the surface of the ground forming the avenues of the
place ; but these avenues, it has been shewn, are contain-
ed within a space of 60,000 square yards, therefore the
number of tlie besiegers occupying the avenues or pas-
sages, will be one-twentieth of tlie square yards, that is in
the proportion of one man to 20 square yards.

Let it now be supposed that a man's body projected ho-
rizonluUy covers one square foot, and nine men will thus
be required to cover completely a square yard. But it has
already been calf inied that there is one man in every 20

Vol. IX. Part I.

yards of the space occupied by the besiegers, therefore
the space actually covered by the bodies of the enemy's
troops and workmen, will be the 180th of the whole; and,
consequently, out of every 180 shots falling in an inclined
or parabolic line within that space, one, in the course of a
long continued fire, will strike the enemy. It is to be ob-
served, however, that this is the minimum, or least possi-
ble effect to be expected from such a fire, because all the
data on which the preceding estimate is founded, have been
assumed on the most unfavourable suppositions. The
enemy has been supposed equally distributed over all the
space, instead of being very much concentrated, as they
really arc on the glacis, towards the capitals of the saliant
angles, to which the vertical fire may also be readily con-
fined. A man's body, too, has been supposed to cover only
one square foot when horizontally projected ; but if he is
working or marching, which must be the case with the
greater part of the besiegers, it will occupy a much larger
space ; besides, as the line described by the shot is not
perpendicular, but inclined, the surface presented to it by
a man's body, must be double his horizontal projection.
All these circumstances considered, it would not, perhaps,
be too much to suppose that one ball in 50 takes effect;
but to prevent every possible objection on this score, let
it be supposed, as above, that one ball in 180 proves fatal
to one of the besiegers.

Let it be supposed, in the next place, that there arc
mounted on the attacked front, six twelve-inch mortars,
two on each of the bastions, and two on the ravelin, so si-
tuated as to fire along the capital of each. The mortars,
as formerly observed, are protected frcJm the direct fire
of the enemy by the parapet, and froin the ricochetts by a
shell-proof covering, having only one opening sufficient to
allow the escape of the shot at an angle of 45°. The side
towards the place may be open to prevent the collection
of smoke, and surrounded with a small fosse to secure it
from the shells that may fall near it.

To estimate the effect of each piece then, it is to be
observed, that as the shell of a twelve-inch mortar weighs
150 pounds, the same weight of balls, each a quarter of a
pound, inay be fired with the same charge; that is, each
mortar, at a single shot, will discharge 600 such balls, be-
ing 3600 from the whole. But it has been shewn, that out
of 180 balls, one may be supposed to strike the enemy ^
therefore at each discharge of the six mortars, twenty of
the besiegers will be put /tors de combat.

It remains now to inquire how many rounds may be fired
in the space of 24 hours, the fire being continued during
the night as well as the day. These, at a moderate cal-
culation, may be rated at 100, which allows nearly a quar-
ter of an hour to each round. Cut at every discharge 20
of the besiegers are disabled ; therefore in 24 houri, 2000
men will be destroyed or rendered unfit for duty. In the
course of the ten days then, between the opening of the
third parallel and effecting a breach in the rampart, the
besiegers will sustain a loss of 20.000 men. But if the
garrison consist only of 4000, tiie whole of the besieging
army will probably not exceed 20,000, being in the pro-
portion of five to one; that is to say, the besieging army
will be completely destroyed before it is able to effect a
breach. If the garrison were stronger, and of course the
besiegers more numerous, it may be shown, by a similar
calculation, that their loss would be proportionally great ;
or in general, that a garrison of any strength may, by
means of a vertical fire alone, destroy five times its own
numbers, in the space of ten days after the opening of the
third parallel.

From the above calculation, Carnot concludes, that no
fortified place, whatever be its size, if defended in this

242

lORTJFICATJON.

way, can Ix; lakcn by any nictlunl of attack presently in
use. Nov is the ccrlaiii clcsti action of the besieging force
the only advantage of this new method. Economy, lioth
in men and money, is another and a powerful recommenda-
tion in favour of the system. The garrison is neither e.x.-
poscd to danger, nor harassed by a laborious defence. A
few companies of artillerymen are alone requisite, who can
carry on their ojierations without any danp;er from the
enemy's fire, and without any interruption from dismount-
ed guns, or broken carriages. The great bulk of the
garrison have nothing to do but watch the most favoura-
ble moment for making a sortie ; and by thus obliging the
besiegers to keep strong guards on their works, they ren-
der the vertical fire more effective. It has already been
shewn what execution may be done by six mortars alone;
and from this it may easily be calculated what any greater
number might effect in a given time. It is not necessary
that all the mortars should be of the same size, nor that
they should be all planted in the same places. They may
be of various calibres, and mounted on different parts of
the works, according to the distance of the besiegers. It
is obvious, however, that, at a given expence, more exe-
cution may be done by such mortars, tlian by artillery of
the common sort. As the charge is in general small, per-
haps cast iron balls might be strong enough to resist the
shock, without breaking, which would of course diminish
the expence still more. But even though it were found
that these did not answer, bars of iron, which are used for
many other purposes during a siege, by being cut into
pieces of about an inch in length, might be used instead
of balls ; and if the garrison were supplied with a great
number of large mortars or swivels, even this expence
might be saved by loading them with stones. The num-
ber of stones discharged from a single mortar at once
would not be indeed above one-tenth of the iron balls ; be-
cause stones, to produce the same efTect, must be so many
times larger. Rut if the number of mortars were ten times
greater, the total effect would be the same.

Having stated some of the advantages of his system,
Carnot proceeds to shew, that it is only by adopting it that
the balance between the modern systems of attack and
defence can be turned in favour of the latter. The dura-
tion of a siege, he observes, scarcely ever extends to six
or seven weeks, and, in most cases, does not exceed twenty-
two or twenty-three days. Of these, fourteen are gene-
rally occupied in constructing the approaches ; so that the
actual attack on the place is reduced to eight or nine .days.
The cause of this very limited period of defence is to be
riscribed, he thinks, partly to the impossibility, in the pre-
sent system of defence, of mounting artillery, so as not to
be very soon silenced, and partly to the want of such a
method of firing as can reach the besiegers behind their
intrcnchments. Uoth of these desiderata are supplied by
his method, which he then proceeds to vindicate from some
objeciions that have been started against it. These objec-
tions arc as follow :

1st, That the balls Tecommended are not large enough
to produce the desired effect.

2d, That the besiegers would avoid the fall of the shot,
by keeping out of their reach ; and,

3(/, That the method recommended would consume a
great deal of iron.

In answer to tlie first objection, he observes, that there
is nothing uni'tabonable in supposing that a square piece
of iron, of the size of a pigeon's egg, should, in descend-
ing through 120 feet, acquire velocity sufficient to kill a
man. But should this be questioned, he appeals to the
example of the ancients, who with their slings, which car-
ried to a mucli less distance than modem swivels, and

with balls much lighter, easily killed or maimed their
eiieinies.

To the second objection he replies, that it can only be
worthy of refutation, when it has been shewn that a be-
sieging army may take a place without approaching it.
And,

On the third, he remarks, that for the very same rea-
son a garrison should not use artillery of the common kind,
because it will consume a great quantity of lead. But the
force of the objection is still more completely removed,
when it is remembered that stones may be substituted in
the place of metal balls.

The ingenious author is not satisfied with replying to
objeciions that have actually been made against his sys-
tem ; — he also anticipates others that might be advanced.
He observes in particular, that it would be impossible for
the besiegers to approach U\e place under the protection
of blindages, because it would be impossible for them to
find either time or materials for the construction of such
works ; and even if they could, the slightest sortie from
the garrison would throw them into confusion, and destroy
in a moment the fruits of their long labour.

But it is not only before a breach has been made that
this new system of defence can be employed. It is equally
effectual in resisting an assault, provided there be an
interior intrenchnient between the rampart and the place,
when a few mortars have been mounted, and reserved for
the moment of the attack. At this moment, the garrison
is to retire from the breach, and the mortars of the re-
trenchment are to open at once with a discharge of balls
or stones. The consequence of this must be total destruc-
tion, or at least immense loss, to the breaching party.
Should any of them in the mean time gain a footing on
the rampart, they must be in great confusion, and may
therefore be easily dislodged with the bayonet, the garri-
son taking care to attack them the moment the fire
ceases.

Such is a «hort outline of the system of defence propos-
ed by one who appears to have devoted the efforts of a
powerful mind, and the labours of a long life, to the im-
provement of a science interesting above all others to his
country, but which military men, in general, have been
too ready to regard as incapable of farther improvement.
In comparing this system with what is still commonly
practised, it is impossible to avoid being struck with the
radical difference in the principles on which they are
founded. In the old method, the garrison acts almost
solely on the defensive ; it waits the advance of the be-
siegers, and is obliged to sustain the heaviest shock after
half its means of defence have been destroyed ; but in Car-
rot's method, the garrison, by a combination of sortees
and vertical fires, is constantly acting on the offensive.
By the one it cuts off weak parties, and destroys their
works, and by the other it assails the strongest force with
a certainty of success unknown to every other species of
artillery. In a word, it puts into the power of the defen-
ders all the advantages that have been for so long a time
exclusively possessed by the besiegers, both in offensive
and defensive operations.

In enumerating the various kinds of projectiles that
may be used in deftnuling a place, Carnot also recom-
mends common artillery in certain circumstances, but
thinks they should not be fired through embrasures, at
least if they are mounted on the faces. Instead of these
he proposes temporary merlons, consisting of bags of
earth, to be used till the enemy opens his ricochett bat-
teries, after which the artillery is to be withdrawn. Gre-
nades, he thinks, might also be used with great advantage,
and even in some cases the manubalisla and accr/iion ef

FORTS, VITRIFIFJl.

243

the ancients. There is still another kind of artilieiy, how-
ever, which, from its singuhirity, merits alteiilion. It was
fust suggested \>y M. Flachon de la Joniariere, and con-
sists in discharging an immense quantity of water, by
means of pumps, on the worlds erected by the enemy on
the crest of the covert way. 15y this means Jomaricrc
supposed that the earth would be so completely soaked, as
to put a stop to their work. " It would not be difficult to
conceive," says Carnot, "that this idea was every where
turned into ridicule. It was however decreed Ijy govern-
ment, in 1785, to put the plan to the test of experiment,
and that experiment, to the utter confusion of the sarcasm
makers, completely succeeded. The sappers could no
longer fill their baskets; the earth was converted into a
liquid mud, which slipped from under them, and of which
it was impossible to construct any intrenchment. Yet, not-
withstanding all this, the experiment has never been fol-
lowed up; — a proof that it is not always sufficient to have
experience, reason, and even the good of the state on one's
side — the inertia of indolence may resist all these. Per-
haps an age or two hence, some extraordinary events may
shew, that the idea is neither extravagant nor absurd."
We should not be surprised if the sentiments which Car-
not has expressed with regard to Jomariere's plan of de-
fence, are hereaiter found to be strictly applicable to his
own.

As might be expected from what has been already stat-
ed, the present construction of fortifications is, in the
opinion of Carnot, extremely defective. Of these defects
he has given an enumeration, and has also illustrated them
at considerable length. — They are as follows : —

\sty There is no provision made for covering either the
artillery, or the garrison on duty, from the fire of the
enemy. In consequence of this, the guns of the fortress
are generally dismounted in a few days.

2(/, There is no interior work or intrenchment, so that
whenever the besiegers make a successful assault, the
place is in their power, and the inhabitants exposed to
pillage.

5d, The communication between the different parts of
the place and the outworks, is too difficult for the prompt
execution of any necessary movement. As an improve-
ment in this respect, Carnot proposes, that instead of a
wall in the counterscarpe, there should be a gentle slope
or glacis, from the covert way to the bottom of the fosse,
so that if the besiegers should get possession of the former,
the besieged might make an attack upon them at any point,
where they had the greatest prospect of success. Should
it be objected to this construction that it would enable the
enemy to advance without interruption to the bottom of tlie
enceinte, Carnot justly observes, that it is not advancing
thither, but establishing themselves there, that is to be
dreaded ; and this they would not easily do without im-
mense loss from the fire of the place.

4th, The covered way is not constructed so as to answer
the purposes for which it is intended. Tliese arc, 1. To
collect the force that may be sent to tlie assistance of the
place. 2. To form the troops intended for a sortie. 3. To
serve as advanced posts for preventing surprises. 4. To
cover by its parapet the revetement of the works: And,
5. To furnish a second line of fire to the enceinte. On
the first of these our author observes, that the covert way
being hid by a pallisade towards the field, it is a matter of
great difficulty for the auxiliary troops to find out the point
where they can enter it, and even alter they have entered
it, if they consist of cavalry or artillery, it is equally diffi-
cult to find admittance into the place. For the same reason
it obstructs, rather than assists, a sortie,''particularly if the
sallying force consists of cavalry. As to preventing sur-

prises, it is, in its prcsctit form, of very little use, as tin-
besiegers can, in a few mintites, make their way over the
pallisade, by means of their fascines, aiul llrjt too with
scarcely any noise. In covering the revetement of the
works, it might be useful, if its paraj)ct were higlier than
the revetement ; but it is well known tliat, in tlie greater
part of modern fortifications, tjiis is not the case ; and, with
regard to its affording an additional line of fire, it is
obvious that, as the besiegers are always covered by a
parapet, the rasing fire which the covered v.ay affords can
be of little value. Many of these disadvantages would be
avoided, by substituting a glacis for a revetted counter-
scarpe, as already described.

5t/i, In the present construction of fortified places, the
ravelin does not completely cover the shoulders of the
bastion, so that the enemy can reach them with his fire
through the openings of the tcnaille.

6t/i, The escarpe is too much exposed.

7t/i, There is no means of having a fire directed alonK
the capitals of the saliants, on which the enemy's ap-
proaches are generally constructed.

8//;, The fall of the revetement at the time of the breach,
generally drags with it the whole of the parapet, which,
greatly facilitates the assault of the enemy. This might
bo remedied by having a way of rounds, though that too
has its inconveniences.

9t/2, Tlie masonry of the works, on account of their
talud, or slope, is easily worn down by the action of the
weather.

\Otfi, The place, in general, is not furnished with suffi-
cient souterrains for protecting the men and the ammu-
nition.

lll/i. The present system of defence requires a much
greater quantity of wood than can in most cases be pro-
cured : And,

\'2(h. It exposes the soldiers to severe and incessant,
labour, without the possibility of their obtaining necessary
repose.

The great length to which this article has already ex-
tended, prevents us entering so largely, as we should other-
wise have done, on the system which we have now endea-
voured to sketch. From the preceding observations, how-
ever, our readers will readily perceive, that the work is
not unworthy of its distinguished author, and that the prin-
ciple which it unfolds is peculiarly deserving the attention
of engineers.

See Vauban, Traite dc l' Attague des Places. Carnot, De
la Defense des Places Fortes, Paris, 1812, &c.

See Military Architecture, for the subject of Cas-
trametation, and other topics connected with the preceding
article.

FORTS, Vitrified. The appellation, Vitrified Forts,
has been given to certain melted or vitrified masses of
stone, which were discovered on the tops of some hills in
the north of Scotland, about the year 1773 or 1774, by Mr
Williams, a mineral surveyor, who published an account
of tliem in the year 1777.

For a considerable time, they engaged the attention of
some of the first lileraiy characters, and gave exercise to
the ingenuity of anticjuariaiis. Various conjectures and
theories were announced ; and some went so far as to con-
clude, that nothins^ short of volcanic fire had produced the
vitrifications. Whether it has been owing to an idea, that
their origin was involved in impenetrable obscurity, or that
there seemed to be no prospect of the learned world coining
to an agreement of opinion, it is certain, that a very long
time has elapsed since this field of research has been aban-
doned, and curidSity apparently been asleep. Happily, the
spirit of inquiry is now more widely diflused,and less easi-
Hh 2

244

FORTS, VITRIFIED.

\y damped ; and we shall consider ourselves fortunate, if
the brief notices in the present article shall lead to a more
general and accurate examination of the appearances un-
der review, than has hitherto been bestowed upon them.
MrTytlcr (the late Lord Woodhouselce) has very justly
remarked, (in anicnioir written on this subject about thirty
years ago, and published in tlie Transactions of the Royal
Society of Edinburgli,) " how curious it is, that the same
appearances to different observers, lead to the most oppo-
site opinions and conclusions!" This clashing of opinions
may sometimes be owing to the different degrees of atten-
tion which have been bestowed on the facts, and their rela-
tive connections. It sometimes happens too, when a per-
son has formed a theory, that he is very apt to view every
thing with an eye, which sees only what accords with his
own fancy, to the entire exclusion of the views of others.
But circumstances of importance often escape the most ac-
curate observers, and lie concealed till accident leads to
their discovery, or till unbiassed observers remove the ex-
aggerations, occasioned by fondness lor a new discovery,
or by attachment to a new theory.

It appears to us that, whatever may have been the cause
which discovered to the inhabitants of the country the vitri-
fiable nature of the stones, of which we find the structures
in question composed, or suggested the application (if ever
it was made) of this discovery to any useful purpose, some
confusion has arisen in the attempts to account for the pre-
sent appearance of the vitrified masses, from the want of
means to trace their first origin. It has fallen to our lot to
discover such means ; and having been so fortunate, we
have some hope of being able to reconcile many opinions
which at present seem to be very opposite, and to open a
path which may lead to the truth. For this purpose, we
shall begin by describing the facts which presented them-
selves to our view, while examining the top of the hill of
Dun Creich in Sutherlandshire, where, we think, the true
origin of the vitrifications, which have occasioned so much
speculation, has been found. We trust that it will appear
evident, that tnaiinff srgna/s by 7neans of fire has occasion-
ed not only the appearances in Dun Creich, but those on
many other hills, and has probably been the origin of this
singular method of cementing stones, if indeed it was ever
resorted to for purposes of architecture.

Near Creich, in the county of Sutherland, a ridge pro-
jects into the Firth of Dornoch, terminating in an abrupt
precipitous hill. This ridge lies nearly east and west; and
from the summit there is an extensive view of the sea, and
the country towards the cast ; and of the valley, containing
the Dornoch Firth, towards the west. The access to the
top is by no means easy, even where it is most practicable.
Round the edge of tl-.e summit there is a rampart of loose
stones, marked on the plan (Plate CCLX. Fig. 1.) by the
letter R. A, marks the scite of the remains of a building
constructed of stone and lime. It is about thirty feet square,
the walls being three feet thick, but not now more than
four feet high. On the outside of this building, as marked
by the letter B, is another rampart of loose stones, which
is probably the remains of a structure intended for the same
use, but which has been exchanged for the more substan-
tial and convenient building within. C is a well, which has
been filled up. There is a very good spring of water on
the outside of the rampart, on the south side of the hill.
D marks a line, on which there is a mass of stones bearing
abundantly the marks of fire, and which we traced across
the whole summit. The surface of the hill within the outer
rampart is uneven and rocky ; and that part of it which is
crossed by the vitrified mass, is rather lower than the eas-
tern portion. .»

The line D being the only one which is vitrified, no marks

of fire appearing any where else, is a strikinq; and impor-
tant fact. This line extends from A to U on the sketch
(Fig. 3), passing over tlie top of the hill, and iti the only di-
rection in wliicli a range of signals could be made, so as to
be distinctly seen fui'ther up the country.

To be satisfied of the reason why the signal fires should
be kindled on, or beside a heap of stones, we have only to
imagine a gale of wind to have arisen when a fire was
kindled on the bare ground. The fuel would be blown
about and dispersed, to the great annoyance of those who
attendetl. The plan for obviating the inconvenience thus
occasioned, which would occur most naturally and readily,
would be to raise a heap of stones, on either side of which
the fuel might be placed to windward. To account for a
large extent of vitrified matter, such as that along the line
D, it is only necessary to allow the inhabitants of the coun-
try to have had a system of signals. A fire at one end,
might denote something different from a fire at the other, or
in any intermediate part. On some occasions, two or more
fires might be necessary, and sometimes a fire along the
whole line.

It is evident, that the people who formed the structure
on Dun Creich, had no idea of applying fire for the pur-
pose of strengthening the ramparts, and had not even taken
the hint afforded them by the effects of the signal fires.
Hence we consider the appearances at this place as de-
monstrative of the fact, that the vitrifications have been oc-
casioned by the lighting of signal fires, to warn the inhabi-
tants of the approach of an enemy, or to convey the orders
of a chieftain to his dependants. It appears too, that such
signals have been common after the use of lime mortar
was known, since we find on this hill the remains of a build-
ing constructed with it. This may have served the dou-
ble purpose of a watch tower, and the habitation of the
people who had charge of the station. At the head of the
valley are the remains of an old castle, with which the sta-
tion was probably connected. While on the top of Dun
Creich, it occurred to us, that marks of fire would be found
on a hill, which obstructed the view of Dun Creich from
Strath Carron, a valley which branches from that of the
Dornoch Firth. We went to the spot, and found several
masses of melted stones. A few miles up Strath Carron,
where a steep rock occupies an angle formed by the river
Carron and a tributary stream, are the remains of a fort,
built in the circular form of the Duns, (or Danish, or Pict-
ish forts, as they have been called,) with distinct traces of
ditches and earthen ramparts in front. With this, also,
the signal station of Dun Creich may have been connected.

We believe that nothing similar to Dun Creich, or other
vitrified forts, has been observed farther to the northward ;
though it is probable something of the sort may exist at
the head of other firths. The next we shall take notice of
is the first we meet with to the southward, and is situated
at tlie head of the Cromarty Firth. The name of the hill
is Knock Farril, and it is one of those which arrested the
attention of Mr Williams. It is about two miles from the
town of Dingwall, in the county of Ross, and forms part of
a double ridge, which bounds the valley of Strathpefier on
the south, and separates it from the valley of the river Co-
nan. The ascent from the east and west ends is compa-
ratively easy, but the sides of the hill are very steep.
From the summit there is an extensive view of the Firth
of Cromarty, and of the adjacent country; and the hill of
Craig Phadrick near Inverness, on which there are vitrifi-
cations which have been described by Mr Tytler, is dis-
tinctly seen. The flat area on the top is a good deal in-
clined towards the west ; its length being about 135 yards,
and its medium breadth about 45. Round the area, and
close to the edge of the hill, we find masses composed of

FORTS, VlTUli lED,

245

stones cemented together by melted matter, irregular in
their positions and size ; and extending at eacli end about
50 yards from the area. Tlie vitrification is every where
superficial, extending but a very little way among the
stones. There is a considerable cjuantily of rubbish seen
in the cuts which Mr Williams caused to be made across
the area in dift'erent places. This rubbish appears to have
been collected for the purpose of extending or forming the
area on the top; and it would seem that much labour had
been bestowed in accomplishing in this manner what might,
apparently, have been effected more easily by cutting down
part of the summit. On ihc plan (Plate CCLX. Fig. 2),
A, marks the cuts made by Mr Williams; B what seems
to be the vestiges of a hut, and C the remains of a well, or
rather a tank for holding rain water ; for there is no appear-
ance of spring water issuing from any part of the hill. The
area measures nearly an English acre. This station may
have been chosen to give warning of the approach of ships
-up the Firth of Cromarty, and was probably the signal-post
of the castle of Dingwall, formerly the residence of the
Earls of Ross.

To account for the vitrification appearing all round the
area, we have only to refer to our supposition of a system
of signals, and the shifiing of the wind rendering it neces-
sary to change the side on which the fires were to be light-
ed. The vitrified masses appear in many instances to have
been displaced ; and one fact occurred lo our notice which
ascertains this displacement beyond a doubt. On search-
ing below a mass, the vitrified side of which was consi-
derably inclined, we observed some melted matter that had
run down and consolidated in the form of stalactites. Had
this mass been in its original position, these would have
been perpendicular; but they were at right angles to the
inclined vitrified surface. Many fortuitous circumstances
may have contributed to produce the present irregular ap-
pearances. It cannot be doubted that the rampart was ori-
ginally formed with as much regularity as the nature of the
materials would allow, both in order to render it more du-
rable, and to make it serve the purposes of defence. For
we must believe, that so important a station as one for sig-
nals, was rendered sufficiently strong to resist the attacks
of an enemy. We do not, however, consider that any ap-
pearance on Knock Fairil indicates the fusibility of the
stones having been used for consolidating the ramparts. Dr
Anderson was mistaken when he stated, in the 6th vol. of
the Arclieologia, that the vitrifications are to be seen only
on the outside of the ramparts of Knock Farril. He men-
tions, however, the fact, that on the hill called Tofi of JVotti,
in Aberdeenshire, the vitrification is only on the inside ;
which is a very satisfactory confirmation of the idea that it
has been produced by signal fires. Had the outside of the
rampart on Top of Noth been vitrified, we might have
been warranted in concluding that fire had been used to
strengthen it. Had the inside been vitrified with this view,
it is impossible to conceive that no attempt was made to
cement the outside also; since in every structure for de-
fence, however rude, we find the strongest, and not, as in
this instance, the weakest, pai't opposed to the approach of
an enemy. On some hills, places apparently intended for
defence have been found, where there are no appearances
of vitrification. In such instances it is probable that the
stones will be found not to be of an easily fusible nature ;
if in reality, no vitrification can be found, on accurate search
being made. This last remark is occasioned by the disco-
very of a mass of vitrified stones on the hill of Dun Jardil,
one of the stations along the great chain of lakes, which
escaped the notice of Mr Tytler, but was found by Mr
Niiiiiuo, civil engineer, and late rector of the academy at
Inverness.

The following considerations seem to support the idea
of such high situations being chosen expressly for signal
stations. Such hills only, as command an extensive view
of the sea, or adjacent country, have been selected.

Each hill is in sight of one or more similar stations, as
far as has yet been observed, with tlie exception of Dun
Creich, which seems to have been devoted exclusively lo
the use of the extensive valley in which it is situate;
though hereafter others may be discovered to be connected
with it.

There is a regular chain from Knock Farril and Craig
Phadrick, along the great valley of Lochness to the west
coast ; and others are in sight towards the east. So that,
on the appearance of an enemy on either side of the island,
the whole country from coast to coast could be informed,
probably within the short space of an hour.

Such is the situation of vitrified forts exclusively ; for
they are not seen in any but commanding situations ; while
many spots more convenient, and better adapted in every
respect for defence, are often to be found in their vicinity,
or at no great distance.

In the statistical account of the parishes of Boleskine and
Abertarf, the hill of Dunardile, or Dun Jardil, mentioned
by Mr Tytler, is noticed ; and it is added, " that a similar
tower is in the same direction, contiguous to the house of
Invergarry ; and that the tradition of the country is, that
those hills were watch towers for giving signals upon the
approach of an enemy by large fires."

It is about seventeen years since the writer of this article
suggested to several persons whom he accompanied in their
visits to Knock Farril, which is near his country residence,
the idea of vitrified forts having been signal stations ; but
this he believes was not new, though he had not before seen
or heard it stated. The opinions which were at that time
entertained were, that fire had been used for the purpose
of cementing the walls, by fusing the materials of which
they were composed ; and that the vitrifications had been
caused, not in the erection, but in the destruction of the
buildings, of which we now see only the ruins.

The first of these opinions, started by Mr Williams, was
supported by Dr Anderson; and if we consider barely the
possibility of forming walls which shall be cemented by the
fusion of a part of the materials, there appears no reason
whatever to doubt it.

But it is not whether a wall can or cannot be constructed
of fusible materials, which is the question ; but whether the
appearances which now present themselves justify the as-
sumption that they had such an origin. We have already
shewn that the people, who liad seen the possibility of heat
being applied successfully to cement a wall on the hill of
Dun Creich, had not availed themselves of what must have
been long apparent to them. No wall, or part of a wall of
a uniform thickness or height, has ever been seen vitrified
on both sides, or throughout, so as to indicate a regular
mode of procedure in its formation. We find, indeed, a
general regularity in the form and manner in which the
ramparts are laid down, and winch has been guided by the
shape of the hills : but nothing else than irregularity in the
mass of which they are formed. We speok of all those we
have seen, and of a variety of descriptions which we have
read. We often find masses of melted matter of a breadth
far exceeding what can be imagined the limits of a wall ;
and we find them, U-o, as on Ci aig Phadrick, on the biink of
inaccessible pre>;ipices, wheie no wall was necessary.
When a breadth of vitrified stones extending 40 feci is
mentioned, it instantly occurs as being very unlikely that
the labour of constructing such a wall was thrown away,
since one half the thickness is far beyond the strength ne-
cessary for a rampart. There is little difficulty in conceit-

S46

FORTS, VITRIFIED.

ing how signal fiics, kindled sometimes in one place, some-
times in anollicr, and varying in magniUulc as occasion re-
quired, might spread aver a surface ol forty feet. The sliift-
ing of the wind, and the vioience with vvhicli it hlows on
the tops of such hills, was.su(licicnt to put tiiosc who had
the charge of making siyimls, on some contrivance to pre-
vent the wood from being dispersed, and tlicmselves from
being annoyed ; and thus tiie ramparts of loose stones which
they had raised to defend themselves from being surprised,
may have become stronger without their having had any
intention of making them so. It is nevertheless by no means
unlikely, that in some cases, the fusible nature of the stones
might have been taken atlvantage of; but there is notlung,
which we have been able to discover, to justify the idea that
a regular method for raising walls and cementing them by
fire, was ever in use. On the hill of Dun Jardil, Mr Tytler
could discover no marks of vitrification; yet such maiks
were discovered by Mr Nimmo, on the only part of the
hiii where signals could be made, so as to connect the great
chain of posts extending from coast to coast ; and along
this chain it has been found necessary to make use of hills
on both sides of the valley, in order to complete the com-
munication. Here, then, is another instance in which the
fusibility of the stones has not suggested the idea of
strengthening walls by means of fire. But we have said
enough on this part of our subject.

Mr Tytler has accounted for the present irregular dis-
tribution of the vitrified matter, in a more simple and in a
more ingenious manner than Mr Williams and Dr Ander-
son. He supposes that the cause of the vitrification is to be
found, not in the mode of construcing, but in the means em-
ployed to demolish the ramparts; which, according to his
theory, were originally built with stones intermixed with
wood, thus presenting to an enemy a defence easily de-
structible by the application of fire.

It is difficult to find any reason why such structures
should be made, at a time when the effects of fire upon
wood must have been as well known as at present. At a
period when it was the only fuel made use of or known,
little ingenuity was necessary for discovering that any
structure made wholly or partly of wood, could easily be
destroyed by fire ; and the people must have been very silly
indeed, who were incapable of foreseeing that the ingenui-
ty of their enemies might enable them to find out so simple,
and, to such fortifications as Mr Tytler has constructed for
them, so formidable a weapon. It was necessary that such
a structure should be only once destroyed by fire, to prove
to the inhabitants the frail nature of their defence. And if
their enemies were expelled, it is natural to suppose that
they would have renewed their forts, and constructed them
in a different manner, so as to resist the attacks of fire.
But nothing has been found indicating any renewal of the
fortifications. That a rampart may be constructed of stones
and wood, which shall not be liable to destruction by fire,
and that such ramparts have been formed, there is no rea-
son to doubt. But, in the case before us, it is necessary
that the quantity of wood should have been so great, as to
admit of fire being set to it easily. If Mr Tytler's conjec-
ture be right, we ought to find the melted matter pervad-
ing indiscriminately every part of the rubbish. But the
vitrification is only superficiul, extending but a very little
way among the stones.

These few considerations, together with what we have
already stated in fiivour of another, has induced us to reject
Mr Tytler's hypothesis. On the whole, we are of opinion,
that the antiquity of these structuies is by no means so
great as that wliich has been attributed to them, and that
they have served as beacons to castles in their vicinity,

the remains of which are, in almost every instance, to be

found.

We allow that, while these hills were chosen for signal
stations, they were also used as places of defence. And,
indeed, it would have been strange if posts of so much im-
portance had been left without the means of resistance. All
have agreed that they were places of more or less strength,
though peihaps such lolly and exposed situations were not
well chosen for protracted warfare. Had they been merely
places of retreat, an invading enemy v\ould certainly over-
look them, as he could overrun and pillage the country
without the possibility of his being annoyed from them; or
if there was any risk of his progress being interrupted, the
situation of the hills would render it easy for a small party
to coop up the garrison. But as an enemy would always
endeavour to approach unseen, and to prevent the country
from being alarmed, these stations would undoubtedly beob-
jects of attack ; and hence we should be warranted in sup-
posing that they were, to a certain extent, fortified, even
were the appearance of ramparts less unequivocal.

Nor are we disposed to deny, that, in some instances, the
fusibility of the stones may have been made use of to assist
in strengthening the ramparts; though nothing has yet oc-
curred to our observation, or in the course of our reading,
which we consider as carrying with it any thing like de-
monstration, or even the suggestion of any such method of
constructing them.

Our object, in this article, being chiefly to excite cu-
riosity, and to induce such of our readers as may have an
opportunity of visiting these curious remains, to apply, on
the spot, the different hypotheses which have been stated,
and to favour the public, through some channel or other,
with the result of their observations, we shall now proceed
to point out the situations of some of the most remarkable
vitrified forts in various parts of Scotland, besides those
already mentioned.

In Kirkcudbrightshire, about half a mile S. E. from the
church of Anwoth, is a steep rocky hill, about 3t)0 feet high,
which has been fortified on the most accessible places by
a double fosse. On the summit, the f^lowing appearances
present themselves, as described by the Rev. Hugh Gor-
don. " The top, which forms a level area, 30 paces long
and 20 broad, is nearly surrounded with an irregular ridge
of loose stones, intermixed with vast quantities of vitrified
matter. The stones, consisting of the common blue schis-
tus of the country, have been softened, twisted, and partly
fused by the fire. These heaps of loose stones and vitrified
matter are scattered irregularly over the top of the fort,
and exhibit no appearance of having ever formed a con-
tinued wall. The vitrification is only partial and super-
ficial, and seems to have been the accidental effect of large
fires kindled on these high rocks, either for some domestic
purpose, or for signals to alarm the country on the ap-
proach of an enemy. It was formerly believed that these
vitrified forts were peculiar to that part of the island which
is north of the Forth. But besides the one described above,
there are two others in the country, and they all command
a very extensive prospect of the sea."

In the island of Bute, in the parish" of Kingarth, there is
a vitrified fort ; and in Cantire, at the entrance of the bay
of Carradale, on a small island, vitrified masses enclose
about a rood of ground. We believe that some others
have been observed in Argyllshire, particularly one on the
hill of Dunskeig, which commands the entrance of Loch
Tarbert. On the same hill, ramparts are seen constructed
with dry stones, without any vitrification.

In Perthshire, the hill called Barryhill, in the parish of
Meigle, seems to have been fortified with particular care.

FOIITS, VITRIFIFJ).

j47

Dr Playl'air thus describes it: " Its summit was levelled
into an area 180 feet long, and 72 broad. Around the area,
a mound of earth was raised from 6 to 8 feet high, and 10
to 12 broad at top. On this mound a vvall of Freestone
■was built, without any cement whatever. The foundation
of the wall was composed of rough granite, and still re-
mains. It is of the same breadth with the summit of the
mound ; but the height of the wall cannot be known. Gor-
don's estimate of it is very erroneous. Among the ruins
there are several pieces of vitrified stone; but these vi-
trifications must have been accidental, as they are few and
inconsiderable. Along the west and north borders of the
area, are barracks or huts of dry stone, and sufficiently
sheltered by the mound and wall ; but no structures of this
sort can be traced in the south part of the area. As the
north and west sides of the hill are steep, and of diflicult
access, there was no need of an outer ditch in these quar-
ters; but towards the south and east, where the hill gently
slopes, there is a ditch 10 feet broad, and 12 to 16 feet be-
low the foundation of the wall. At the S. E. extremity of
the fort, a narrow bridge was raised over the ditch, 18 feet
long, and 2 broad, except towards each end, where the
breadth was increased. It was composed of stones, laid to-
gether without much art, and vitrified above, below, and on
both sides, so that the whole mass was firmly cemented.
That an opening was left below, after the process was
finished, is doubtful. On the upper part of the bridge, a
stratum of gravel was laid, to render the passage smooth
and easy. This is the sole part of the fort intentionally
vitrified. A few yards distant from the ditch, there is an
outer wall, the foundation of which is about eight feet lower
than the summit of the mound. The approach to the fort
is from the north-east, along the verge of a precipice ; and
the entrance was secured by a bulwark of stone, the ruins
of which are extant. There is no vestige of a well within
the fort ; but, westward, between the basis of the mound
and the precipice, there was a deep pond or lake, recently
filled up by the tenants in that neighbourhood. About a
quarter of a mile eastward, on the declivity of the hill, there
arc some i-emains of^another oval fort, of less extent than
the preceding, consisting of a strong wall and ditch. Tra-
dition says that there was a subterraneous communication
between these forts, which is not improbable." We could
have wished that more particular attention had been given
to what is denominated a bridge in the foregoing descrip-
tion. From the circumstance of this vitrified mass cross-
ing the ditch, Dr Playfair is satisfied that it must have been
used as a bridge ; but he afterwards decidedly says that the
approach to the fort was on the north-east side, while this
bridge is at the south-east extremity. We are inclined to
think, that, at this side, the south-east was found the most
convenient spot for making signals, and that the vitrified
mass v/as raised, in order to allow of a five being kindled
on cither side, according to the direction of tiie wind. The
])lausibility of this conjecture, we must leave to the deci-
sion of future observers.

From a hill called Laws, near the village of Drumstur-
dyniuir, about five miles north-east from Dundee, there is
an extensive view of'thc sea and adjacent country. The
area on the^summit is 133 yards in length, and 6G in
breadth ; ancFall round it are to be seen the vestiges of a
broad rampart. On the east end, from which the most ex-
tensive view is seen, are large masses of vitrified stones.
Tiie Rev. Mr Roger, who gives a short description of this
fort in the Statistical Account of Scotland, states liis opinion
tliat these vitriScations have been produced by the frequent
lighting of signal fires.

The vitrifications on the l-.ill called Top of Noth, have
already been noticed, on account of their being found only

on the inside of the ramparts, a fact confirmed by several
autliorities. The following description we met with acci-
dentally in a MS. the writer of which appears to have been
Mr Leith of Whilchuugh. " The summit, on all sides,
presents to a person wlio approaches it, a-sloping mound,
or pile of loose stones, of different sizes and shapes, few of
them larger than a man may lift with botli hands, though
some few arc ten times that bulk. When you get on tiie
top of this mound, or enter by an opening in the east end of
it, you discover that it docs not consist of a heap of such
stones so as to make a large cairn, but that there is an open
area of grass ground in the middle, which may be about 60
yards long, by 25 wide. The mound of stones wiiich sur-
rounds this space has, on the inside, the appearance of a thick
strong wall that had for a long time been in ruins. The
height of these ruins above the inner area is pretty imiform,
and may be from 9 to 12 feet. A slight inspection dis-
covers, that what has the appearance of a ruinous wall,
has never been connected together by any cement, as no-
thing of that sort can be discovered where it might most
probably bo found. But, at the same time, you perceive
that very large masses have been formed by the union
of smaller stones fused by the force of fire in various de-
grees."

In the same county is the hill of Dun o'Deer, in the vale
of Garioch, on which there are also vitrifications; and, as
on Dun Creich, the remains of a building constructed with
lime mortar. This tower is of larger dimensions, and
of greater strength, than that on Dun Creich, being 60 feet
square, and the walls about 12 feet in thickness. Hence
it appears to have served the double purpose of a watch-
tower and a strong hold. This tower is evidently of more
modern date than the vitrifications, part of which have
been used in its construction. This circumstance, how-
ever, does not militate against the supposition, that the hill
was used as a signal-station after the tower vv-as built.

About four miles east from Forfar, is the castle-hill of
Finhaven, the vitrifications on which have led Dr Anderson
to compare them to the cflccts of the fire in a limekiln;
and he represents them as having been produced by the ir-
regularity of the weather, the wind blowing sometimes
hard, sometimes gently. This is exactly what we suppose
to have been tlie cause of the vitrifications, while we as-
cribe a particular purpose to the fire.

The walls in some parts of this fort have been laid bare,
so as to appear at least ten feet high. We have no perfect
description of the vitrification. Dr Anderson describes it
as appearing here and there in horizontal or nearly hori-
zontal streaks ; but it is evident, that the wall had been
built previously to the application of fire, in whatever way
that may have been made. The stones ai'e in courses, and
banded, as we havo been informed by the Rev. Dr Jamie-
son, (to whom we are chiefly indebted for what we state
respecting this fort), and the stones have been very un-
equally and irregularly affected by the fire, and many of
them not at all. Seven or eight varieties of stone appear
to have been made use of. Had there been an intention to
vitrify this wall, the most fusible stones would appear to
have been selected; but instead of this, they have been
placed in the ^rall indiscriminately with others. We have
already remarked, that much pains seem, in some instan-
ces, to have been taken to fill up irregularities in the
ground, so as to form a level area on the summit. Our in-
formation respecting this fort is not so clear as to enable
us to determine whether the unusual height of the wall can
be accounted for in this way. For defending a fort from
within, a rampart of less height would have been suffi-
cient. There are several cross walls on this hill, and the
vestiges of outworks; and altogether it seems to offer

248

FORTS, VrTRIFIEl).

much satisfaction on a.tarcfiil exaniiiiation. We regret,
that our inforniulion, in regard to some of its peciili^irilics,
came too late to enable us to visit the castlc-hill ol I'iuha-
ven, bclore it was necessary to send this article to the iircss.
It is said, that between this hill and that of Laws, already
noticed, there is another i'ort, which completes the commu-
nication over a very wide extent of country. Uy keeping
in view the idea, tliat signals by fire liave been in use at
the period when tliese fortifications were constructed ; and
looking around from the summit of the hills on which they
have been placed, for hills similar in situation and shape,
particularly at the entrances of vallics, or on ridges which
interrupt the view ; many vitrified forts will, we confident-
ly expect, be discovered, and communications far more
extensive than any hitherto observed may be traced. As
the repulsion of foreign invasion was an object of interest
to the country at large, hostile tribes and clans would natu-
rally unite for the common defence ; and, as their Scandi-
navian neighbours were in the habit of frequently molesting
them, no plan for alarming the country wiUi the utmost ce-
lerity appears so natural, or so effectual, as the lighting of
fires.

A few miles from Fort-William, in the parish of Kilma-
lie, is the hill of Dundhairdgliall, the summit of which is
surrounded by a vitrified mass of stones. This hill com-
mands a view of a great part of Mamore, and the whole
of Glen Nevis. It is extremely probable, that this was the
signal station of the ancient castle of Inverlochy. In this
opinion the writer of tliis article was confirmed by Dr
M'Knight, who visited this hill, and who has mentioned his
being struck with the probability of the conjecture, in the
account he has given of Ben Nevis in the Memoirs of the
Wcrnerian Natural History Society.

In the valley of the Beauly river, in Invcrness-shire, about
two miles north-west of the church of Kiltarlity, is a vitri-
fied fort, called Dun Thionn. It is circular, and about
thirty yards in diameter.

The latest writer on the subject of our article is Dr
M'CuUoch, who states his opinion in a memoir, published
in the Transactions of the London Geological Society. He
adopts the opinion of vitrified forts having been construct-
ed as places of defence, by cementing the walls by means
of fire ; and rejects, in a peremptory manner, the opinion
■which we have attempted to defend, viz. that the origin of
the vitrifications is to be found in the practice, universally
employed by our ancestors, of alarming the country, when
threatened by invasion, by fires lighted on conspicuous
situations.

Dr M'CuUoch has guessed, by pacing, the dimensions
of the ground plan of the vitrifications on the hill of Dun
Mac Sniochaiii, supposed lo liave been part of the ruins of
Beregonium. He acknowledges, that a great part was
concealed by being covered with sod, which he had no
means of removing; yet he has given a plan of an exten-
sive and regular set ol inclosurcs. He has not favoured
us with the shape of the summit, on which the position of
the vitiified masses observed elsewhere always depends ;
but, from the shading of his plan, we may presume, that
the inclosures stand on different elevations, and that those
elevations command a view of different portions of coun-
try. It is stated, that the portion of ground inclosed is in
length about 200 yards; whereas on the plan two separate
inclosures are marked, one 55 paces long, and the other
37. One side of the latter appears to be prolonged, so as
to reach the edge of the hill at both sides. There is a third
inclosure, 30 paces long. The want of a vertical section,
or a drawing of the hill, prevents us from judging of the
extent of Dr M'Culloch's title to set aside the idea of sig-

nal fires having been the cause of the vitrifications. The
facility with which our author makes room for his own
oiJinions, may be seen in the following sentence ; " The
supporters of this opinion have asserted, that they (the
forts) always occupy the highest elevation; and that many
of Ihcm are so placed as to be visible from each other.
This is not true." The vitrified forts have never been as-
serted to occupy the Mff/iest elevation; and we cannot disco-
ver where Dr ftl'Culloch could find such an assertion to have
been made. We do not remember an instance, in which
there is not much higher ground immediately contiguous
to the hills on which the vitrifications are found. It has
been asserted by others, as well as by ourselves, that they
are placed in commanding situations, from which an exten-
sive view of the sea, or inland districts, can be seen. But
this is very different from the highest elevation. That
many of them are so placed as lo be visible from each
other, is known from the testimony of several writers, and
is consistent with our own observation.

The I'ock of which the hill in question is formed is lime-
stone ; and Dr M,'Culloch very properly infers, that the
stone of the hill was rejected, on account of the effects of
fire upon it, and that other stones were, therefore, collected
in the vicinity. He supposes, that a trap breccia, found
in situ about half a mile from the hill, was chiefly made
use of, on account of its being fusible. Yet he states, that
only the foundation of the wall is cemented together by
melted matter. The masses of this rock are said to be
rare on the plain ne_r the hill ; but it cannot be inferred
from this, that they were not found in sufficient plenty
at the time the rampart was constructed. The building
of the rampart most probably occasioned the present scar-
city of stones of this kind on the plain. But this is com-
paratively unimportant, since we have vestiges, in various
places, which demonstrate the great labour which the an-
cient inhabitantsof thecountry bestowed in collecting stones
of particular sizes and shapes to suit their purposes. The
vitrification extending, according to Dr M'CuUoch, " in no
case more than a foot or two from the foundation," docs
not, in our opinion, exhibit any sign of intention to con-
struct a vitrified wall ; and the effects of the fire appear-
ing, in this instance, to diminish upwards, is precisely what
we should expect to be the consequence of lighting signal m
fires against the rampart in the manner we have supposed.
The reason why the pudding-stone is the prevailing mate-
rial, appears in its being more easily broken into pieces of
a convenient size than any other stone, and more easily
quarried (if quarrying was necessary) than the hard pri-
mitive rocks.

From what we can collect out of this description, we are
inclined to think it possible that a ram])art of loose stones
has been constructed on the vitrified mass, which is descri-
bed as the foundation. Should this conjecture prove cor-
rect, it will be an additional proof that the fusibility of the
materials has not always been made use of for the purpose of
cementing them. Indeed Dr M'CuUoch comes nearly to
the same conclusion, as he has found it necessary to state
the following hypothesis, which appears to us a very lame
apology for builders neglecting their work; at all events,
Dr M-CuUoch has satisfied us, that the art of building
walls, by means of fire, was not, in the preswit case, suffi-
ciently perfect to raise a structure higher than a foot or
two. " The imperfect ustion of the upper parts, may be
easily conceived to have arisen from a partial neglect of
the fire after the wall had nearly attained its requisite
height; nor is there any reason why it should net have
been increased in height, by the addition of cold stone*-, af-
ter a firm foundation had been obtained." W'e do not see

F0¥

249

Svhy a foundation of vitrified stones should be lii'tncr llian
the solid limestone rock, on which they arc placed. Dr
M'Ciilloch observes, tliat the effects on the stones appear to
Jiave been produced by repeated applications of lire; an
observation which accords exactly with the supposition of
signal fires. We cannot discovci", aloni^ with our author,
«ny analogy between the appearances we have been consi-
dering, and the method employed to bake mud walls
in Hindustan. Melting and baking we consider as very
different tilings. In regard to the plan which has been
supposed to have been followed in constructing vitrified
walls, and which is approved by our author, we have only
to observe, that the great heat necessary to fuse the stones,
could not possibly be produced between two walls built of
sods, or any thing else, which would prevent a proper cur-
rent of air from passing through the fuel. To us the ana-
logy to the glazed wall of Gatacre House in Shropshire,
appears equally remote.

We hope, by the time we come to the article Vitri fied
Forts, that we shall have it in our power to throw some ad-
ditional light on this obscure subject. Our remarks in this
article, particularly those on Dr M'Cullocli's memoir, shew
how difficult it is to arrive at any settled opinion at present;
though to us it appears evident that, to whatever use the
fusibility of some stones may have been afterwards applied,
the lighting of signal fires has caused the vitrifications at
least in some instances ; and, if not in all, that it has af-
forded the hint from which the idea of cementing stones
by means of their fusibility has been derived. If it be
really the fact, that walls were built in this manner, it is
remarkable that no trace is left by which we can determine
the method which was followed in their construction. The
only data we possess on which our arguments in favour of
this mode of building can be founded, are, the presence
of great varieties of stones, a few of which are fusible at
a high temperature, and of charcoal, which indicates the
nature of the combustible materials. It is evident that the
hills on which tliese remains have been discovered have
been fortified with more or less care, and to a greater or
less extent; and the question that remains is simply, What
has been the purpose to which the fire, which fused the
stones, was applied ? — Was it applied to strengthen the
walls by the builders; to destroy them by an enemy; or,
have the vitrifications been the accidental effects of signal
lires; or can we trace their origin to all of these ?

See WWXmn&'i, Letters from the Highlands, jlrcheolo-
gia, vol. vi. Bee, vol. x. Transactions <if the Royal Society
of Edinburgh, vol. ii. Statistical .Account of Scotland, passim.
Memoirs of the IFernerian J^'at. Hist. Society, vol. i. Trans-
actions of the Geological Society of London, vol. ii.

FORTUNATE Islands. See Canary Isles.

FOSSILS. See Mineralogy and PETiiiFAcTiON.

FOS TAT. See Cairo.

FORTROSE. See Ross-shire.

FOULAH, an island in the Atlantic Ocean, connected
•with Zetland, from which it is distant about 20 miles west.
It is situated in North Latitude 60'^ 4', and West Longitude
1° 45'. It is about three miles long, and one mile broad,
chiefly formed of very high ground, and presenting to the
ocean several precipices, from 800 to 900 feet in height.
There is one landing-place, which can be taken in calm
Aveather only. During a storm, all is foam and spi'ay, and
the island is then inaccessible. The rocks are gneiss and
mica slate, supporting horizontal beds of sandstone, slate,
clay, and clay-ironstone. In the cliffs of sandstone, innu-
merable multitudes of sea fowl hatch their young. WHien
approached in a boat, in the breeding season, if any noise
is made, t.e old birds leave their nests in such numbers as

Vdi.. IX, Past I.

to darken the arir. Here the different kinds of gulls re-
sort, and here also the stormfinch [Procellaria fielagica)
breeds. On the hills, the Skua gull muy be found ; anl in
the corn-fields of this remote island, the voice of the land-
rail proclaims summer.

Tlie inhabitants, which do not amount to 200 souls, chief-
ly support themselves by fishing. Tlivy occupy about 60
marks of land, which they cultivate with the spade, and
rear a few horses, sheep, hogs, and poultry. The rocks in
summer yield the natives a rich supply of eggs and fea-
thers. In order to procure these, they run the greatest
risks among the rocks, climbing by the assisl^ceof a rope
among the most frightful precipices. As may be expect-
ed, many of these adventurous natives meet with an un-
timely death. This, to the relatives, wliile a subject of
grief, is likewise matter of exultation, as the children will
often be heard to boast that they are the descendants of
those who have gaen afore, or of those who have perished
among the rocks.

Several places along the shore were pointed out to the
writer of this article, where these melancholy events had
taken place.

This island is seen in clear weather from the Orkneys,
and hence is supposed, with great probability, to have been
the Ultima Thule of Tacitus.

FOULNESS. See Essex.

FOUNDATION Octave, in Music, or « the Founda-
tion," in the language of practical tuners of organs and
piano-fortes, implies, that series of 12 notes which are
first adjusted, by their tuning process, and from whence
all the others above and below them are tuned by means
of octaves : many tuners are in the habit of laying their
foundation, as they call it, between the G that is below, and
that which is above the Tenor-cliff C ; but we prefer the
octave above the latter note, and to this octave C c, are the
tables of beats for different systems calculated, that are
given in our work ; the lower note making 240, and the
upper one 480 complete vibrations per second, (f)

FOUNDERING. See Veterinary Medicine.

FOUNDERY. See Iron and Gunnery.

FOUNTAINS. See ?Ivdrodynamios.

FOURTEENTH, Comma-redundaiit Minor (U'), in

Music, is an interval, whose ratio is

18'

:1131S+22f-f

98 m, and its log. rr.4435974,9924. It is equal 2 V-f 6, by
which it may be correctly tuned.

FouKTEKNTH Major (XIV), or Quatorzieme ; the octave

4
or replicate of the major seventh, has the ratio -7, ~1 16"

2-J-23 f+101 m, and its log. —■4259637,3227. It is equal
2 V-f VI, by which it may be tuned.

Fourteenth Minor (14), the octave or replicate of the
9
mmor seventh : its ratio is — , ^:1 120 2+22 f-f-97 m, and

its log. 1^.4490925,31 12. It is r:V+3 4ths, whence it may
be tuned, [g)

FOURTH, in Music, is the numeral designation of an
interval of four diatonic degrees, or literal gradations. Of
these fourths, the diflVrenl writers on music have mention-
ed a considerable variety, and by a stili greater number of
names, as follows; (see Plate XXX. Vol. II.), viz.

Bearing Fourth of Holden : its ratio is

240.060766 2 + 5 f + 20 m.
Fourth.

21'

See J^esser False Trumpet

Comma-deficient Major Fourth (iV*), has the ratio—.,

I i

25Q

FOURTH.

:z:— ^, =: 290 E + 6 f + 25 m ; its common log. is zz

.8573324,96.13, — .4r3932xVIII, — 26.44423xc ; rrlV—
C, =14 + ^, nT-f 2 I, 3 T— 2 c, — V— S— c, =23 c^-
15 S + 6 1; :^6^ +13C +10 2: it is also ZZVI — 3, hy
which means it may be accurately tuned. It is the grave
major fourth of Maxwell and I.iston ; the sharp fourth,
6r the greater fourth of some writers ; the superlluous
fourth of Chambers and Marsh ; the double-deficient tri-
fone, and the tritonus of Euler.

.243
Comma-deji^ient Minor Fourth (4';, has the ratio — ^,

— -I—. =243 S + 5f+21 m; its log. =8804562,9528,

2 .5
n.3971 17 X VIII, =22.15811X0; =4— c, =IV— P, =
III + L, =2 t4- S, =21 c + 12 2 + 5 1, =5 / + 11-6 + 8 2;
it is also =3 4ths — V — 3, by which is may be tuned. It
Is the deficient fourth of floldcn, the lesser fourth of Hol-
den, the grave minor fourth of Liston, and the supcrfiuous
third of Good.

Comma-rechmdayit Major Fourth (IV), has the ra-
tio ^^ = J, = 312 2 + 6 f + 27 m ; its log. =
729 3"

."8465424,3266, =.509772x VIII, =28.44423Xc ; =IV +
C, =4+P, =V— L, =3 T, =3 P + 3 U =4 + ^ + 2 c, =
27c+l5 2 + 6f, =6/ +15€ +'2 i^; il is also =3 V—
5 4ths, and may be so tuned. It is likewise the acute ma-
jor fourth of Liston, Sec. ; the greatest sharp fourth, the
sharp, and the superfiuous fourth of Bemetzrieder ; the
treble major tone, the great tritonus, the ancient super-
fluous or redundant tritone, &c.

20
Comma-rcdwidant Minor Fourth (4') ; its ratio is —, rr

— ^, =255 2 + 5 f + 23 m ; its log. =8696662,3150, =
3^
.432958 xVIII, =24.1581 I XC; 4 + C. =IV— ^, =11 +
3, =IX— VI, =10—7, =3 + T, =2T-t-S, =T + t+S,
=T+ t +L+2 c, =23 c+ 12 2+5 f, =5 / + 13 € + 10 2 :
-it is also ::z2 V — VI, by whicli it may be tuned. This
is also the acute minor fourth of Liston, and his dimi-
nished (major) fourth, the redundant fourth of Chambers,
the superfluous fourth of Galileo, and the greater fourth of
Iloldcn.

243
Deficient Fourth of Holden, has the ratio — -, =2432

+5 f +21 m. See Comma -deficient Minor Fourth.
Diascfdsma-excessive Minor Fourth (4*'); has the ratio

! '51072 2^'

ili^il^=-T-r,=2662+5f+23m; its log.t=S691761,2437,
177147 3'^ -T- -r > &

=».434583xVIII, =24.24895XC; =4+^ =IV+2— ^-/,

=sl V+C— L, =V— 2L, =2P+T, =3P + 2L, =23 c+ 1 3 2

+ 5 f, =52+13-6 + 112; it is also=5 V — 6 4ths, by which

it may be tuned. This is the resulting or wolf fourth,

when 1 1 perfect fourths are tuned in 5 octaves, or it is=

3 VIII— 1 1 4ths.

c.t:f.\

Diminished Fourth of Bemetzrieder; its ratio is ■

25
Liston, See; has the fatio — , s218 2+4f+19 m. ^tcLx'

;=;195 S+4f+17m. See Least flat Fourth.

8192'

Diminished Fourth of some writers, has the ratio ,

' 512

=2072+4 f+ 1 8 m. See Lesser flat Fourth.

20
Diminished {Major) Vovr.th; its ratio is — , ;=265 2+

3ff+23m. See Comma-redundant minor Fovrth.
Diminished {minor) Fourth of Tartini, Chladni, ^lavshj

treme flat minor Fourth.

Double deficient flat Fourth, has the ratio
2 + 4 f+ 17 m. See Least flat Fourth,

6561
8192'

:19(>

Double diminished mmc/r Fourth ; its ratio is

7"68''

3 , =182 2+3 f+16 m, or as a regular intervals^

181.858201 2 + 4 f+15 m ; its log. =.9 105 1 87,973 l,t=
.297249XVIII, =16.58587xc: =4— 2 J', = IV— §—2^,
= 3 + ^, =3 5 + c, =V+^;— III, =T + l+f„=T+3S
— t =16c + 6 2 + 3f.=3 ;/! + 106+''S: it is also =6+3
— 2 III, =XIII — 4 III, by eiiiier of which it may be tuned.
This interval has also been called the extreme diminished
fourth by Chambers, and it is the enharmonic-excessive
minor third.

9
Double minor Fourth (2 4th); its ratio is — , =508 Z

+ 10 f+44 m. See Minor Sevekth.

Extreme diminished Fourth of Chambers : has the ra-

625
tio — . =182 2+3 f + 16 m. See Double diminished mi-

768 '

nor Fourth.

Extreme double sharji minor Fourth (j^i$4) ; its ratio

337 S+7 f +29 m. See Extreme sharfi major

. 256
'^ 37? =
Fourth

Extreme flat tnajor Fourth ([? IV); has the ratio-, ss
254 2 + 5 f+22 m. See Minor Fourth.

Extreme flat (nu';ior) Fourth (|j 4) of Liston, Sec:

25 5"

its ratio is — , = — , = 218 S + 4 f + 19 m ; its log. sz

.8927900.3035, = .3561435 X VIII, =19.87I98xc ; =4— .
J-, =IV— S— J', =2 + 3, =9— VL =10— VII, =3 + S,
=T+2S, =3+^ + ,^, =19c + 9 2+4f, =4i: + .l£; +
8 2 ; it is also = VIII — 2 III, =6—111, by either of whicU
it may be tuned. It is the dimijiished fourth of Tartini,
&c. the flat (minor) fourth of some writers; also the die-
sis-excessive major third, 111+^, and the bearing third,
or tierce wolf, of the mean-tone system.

Extreme sharfi {major') Fourth (i^IV) of Liston; ha^

256 '^^

the ratio ;;^ , = -r = 337 2 + 7 f + 29 m ; its log. e;:

3^5 3.5"^

.8342086.9759, =.5507472 xVIII, =30.541154X0; =lV

+ 2^, =4 + S + 3^' =^'— E, =2 III-S, =1II+2S + ^
+ £;, =29 c+18 2+7 f, =7^^ + 15(3-1-12 2 ; it is also c=
3 III — 4, by which it may be tuned. It is likewise the re-
dundant (major) fourth of Liston, and his extreme double
sharp minor fourth.

32
Extreme shar/i minor Fourth {jfi 4) : its ratio is -^, s=

45'

301 2+6 f +26 m. See Ma/or Fourth.

False Fourth of Chambers ; has the ratio — , = 301 S

i^£ 6 f + 26 m. See 3Iajcr Fourth.

405
5T2'

= 207 2;

Flat deficient fninor Fourth ; its ratio is

+4f+18m. See /,fiscr_y?a; Fourth.

7
Flat Fourth of Holdcn ; has the ratio - =221.947209 S

+4 f + 19 m> and its log, =.3908555j3085. In the incan»

FOURTH.

251

^ruous system of this writer, it is also his redundant great

third.

Flat [inmor) FounxH (I? 4), of some writers; has the

25
ratio -;- ■= 218 2 + 4 f +19 m. See Extreme Jiat minor

Fourth.

Grave Fourth, of Ilolden ; has the ratio — -, =

540.060766 S+5 f + 20 m. See Lesser false Fourth.

32
Greater Fourth, or sharp fourth, has the ratio — , =

265 S

27'

301 2+6 f+26 m. See Major Fourth.
Greater Fourth, of Holden ; has the ratio

+5 f +23 m. See Comma-redtmdant minor Fourth.

^ r .... 18

. Greater Fourth, of some writers ; its ratio is — , =s

2^90 S+6 f + 25 ni. See Comma-de^cicnt 7)iajor Fov mil .
Greater false Fourth, of the trumpet (^"5) ; has the

ratio — , = 260.89592 S + 5 f + 22 m, and its loff. =
43 °

.8716815,2274.

Greater false Fourth, of the trumpet (J^ jL ^i_) ; has

the ratio—, =281.102040 2+6 f+ 24 m, and its log. is

,5516973,0183.

512
Greatest sharfi Fourth : has the ratio — , =3132 +
■' 729' ^

5 f + 27 m. See Comma-redundant major Fourth.

Imfierfcct Fourth, .of Good and Gregory : has the

50625

228 2 + 4 f + 20 m ; its log.

*'^^"' 6i536' - 2'»
.3878851,0560, = .3724368 X VIII, = 20.781 136xc : =4
—S, =IV— 2S— 2, =20c + 8 2 + 4f, =4^ + 12f; + 8 2;
it is also =4 4ths— 4 III, by which it may be tuned. This
is also the quadruple major semitone, =;4 S.

Least fat Fourth, of some writers ; has the ratio

^£il,zz-i- 1962 + 4f+ 17 m; its log. — 9035800,9412,

,=.320303. X VIII,ZZ 17.87198 X c ; =r 4 — P, z: IV —
J' — P, = IV — 2— T, = III — 2, = 3 + :f-2,Z=T

+ 2L,=:P + 3L,iz:2t + 2S — T, = t + S + L,:z:i7
c + 9 2 + 4 t, zi: 4 .,;- + 9 f3 + 6 2 ; it is also =Z 5 VIII—
8V,:ir5 4ths — 3 V, by which it may be tuned. It is
the diminished fourth of Benietzrieder, the double-defi-
cient flat fourth ; and the schisnia-dcfcctive major third

Lesser False Fourth of the trumpet (— — , &c. j

has the ratio—, ZZ. 240.060766 2 + 5 f + 20 m ; its log.

rr.8819006,8792,ZZ. 3923175 X VIII, = 21 .89039 X c. It
is also the bearing or grave fourth of Iloldcn.

Lesser Flat Fourth, of some authors ; has the ratio

4.05 3*. 5

— , = -^, = 207 2+4f+ 18 m.

Its logarithm :rr

.8981850,6224, ZZ. .333224 X VIII, ZZ 18.87198 X c ; ZZ

4 — s>=iv— 2b',=:ni + €,=3 +L,=v + €— 3;
=4— 1, = 5 — Il,z:7 — iv,z=8 — V;::zt + 2 S,=rT

+ S + L,ZlIV— t— 2,::^18c + 9 2 4-4f,= 4^ + lofi
+ 7 2. it is also 11: 3 4tlis — V — III, by which it may be
tuned. It is the grave extreme flat (minor) fourth of Lis-
ten (b 4*) 3, the diminished fourth of some writers, and the
fiat deficient minor fourth.

Lesser Fourth of Holden, has the ratio '^^, zz. 243 S+

320 ^

5 f + 21 m. See the Comma-defcient Minor Fourth.

Major FouRiH (IV), or Greater Fourth, has the ratio
32 2'

— , ZZ rj— , =Z 301 2 + 6 f + 26 m ; its logarithm ZZ.

.8519374,6454, =.491853 X VIII, = 27.44423 Xc;=4

+ S> = in + T,=:V-. S,=5— € ; I + 4,zrII + 111,=:
V — 2, rz VII — 4, =: VIII — 5, =: IX— 6, nX— 7, zz 1 1

—8 ; IZ3 T— c, =6—2 S,zr4 + ,-/ + c, =3 S + 2 S + J",
=2S + 3S + ci'+€ ;Z=26c+15 2+6f,=6i^ +14^
+ 1 1 2 : it is equal V + III — 4, by which means it may
be correctly tuned. This interval is also the extreme
sharp minor fourth, the sharp fourth, the redundant
(minor) fourtli, the false fourth of Eulcr, Chambers, &c.
the superfluous fourth of Chladni, the tritonc, (2 T + t,)
or tritonus. Mr F. Webb says, in his " Parliarmonicon,"
that the ratio of this interval is nearly that of the side of a
square to its diagonal ; which, correctly, is 1 -v ^/ 9., —
306.0039312 2 + 6 f + 25 m, the middle of the octave, or
isotonic minor fourth, which is equally near to the 5th as to
the IVlh, the difference being If^ in each case.

Major Fourth of Hussey and Webb, has the ratio

-, ZZ 297.060766 2 + 6 f + 25 m, and its logarithm z:

.8538719,6432 ; they also denominate it a sharp fourth.

12
il/ayor Fourth of Salmon, has the ratio—, =307.5396?"

2+ 6 f+26 m, and its log. zr.8487323,2467.

Minor Fourth (4), Fourth, or Perfect Fourth, is a

concord, having the ratio -,= 254 2 + 5 f + 22 m ; its log.

Z:.8750612,6339,'zi. 4130374 X VIII, zr23. 1581 1 X c, =
254.921293 x 2,r: 1.2892244 X III, IZ 1.5778829 x 3d;zi
IV — S, =3 + t,=lll + S,=5— S, = V— T ; = 2 + III,'
= IV— 1,=5— 2, = V— II,=7— 4,VII — IV, = 8 — 5,
= 9— 6,=X — VII; =T -i- t + S, = 2 T+ L, = T + t

+ L + c, = T + 2L + p, = 3S + s + :rf,=2rr_A^,

= 22 c + 5r+22,=22c + 12 2 + 5 f, =5<r^ +12t^ + 92 :
it is also ^: 6 — 3,= VI — III, = VIII — V% by either of
which its tunc may be examined and adjusted with the
greatest exactness. This interval is the diminished (major)
fourth of Liston, and his extreme flat major fourth (^ IV);
thequatre of Euler ; the diatessaron, or letrachord, of the
ancients; and the epitrites. It is the largest of the three
Concordant Elements, 3d, Illd, and 4th; see that article.
It may be twelve times repeated, or tuned in succession,
in five octaves, (1 1 4ths +4+ jj = 5 VIII), before falling
again on the same note, or near to it, which is not the case
with any other concord, except its complement the major
hl'lh.

Minor-comma defective miyior Fourth (4*') ; has the

5 JO 2^

latio — -, = 7-= — r =: 244 2 + 5 f + 21 m ; its log. rz
675 3". 5"

.8799661,8814, = 3.9.S7441 X VIII, = 22. 19905 X c: =

4 — €,=iv— s. = iii + s, = 3 + j'+ S>=^— 2S,

= 5 +2— S; = I + III,=IV— 2,=VII— 3, = X— 8;
— 2T + t— S,=2T +.-/,= 21 c+ 132 + 5f, = 5 /' +
1 1 £ + 9 2 : it is also z: V + 2 III — 2 4ths, by which it
may be tuned. It is the redundant (major) third of Liston,
and his extreme sliarp (major) third, J| III.

Fedundant Foukth of Chambers: has

• 20
the ratio — , =

263 2 + 5f+23m; see Comma-redundant minor'Po\:v.i:H..
Redundant {major) Fourth of Liston, has the iTilio
Ii2

253,

256

FOW

512

^ -,ZZ 337 2 ■■!- 7 f + 29 m. See Extreme sharfi (major)

375

Fourth.

32
Redundant [minor) Fourth ; its ratio is — , = 301 2 +

6 f -|- 26 m. See Major Fourth.

Schkma-excessive mijior Fourth (4*) ; has the ratio

11?!.,— l_,—255S+5f+22iTi:itsiog.=:.874571 1,5526,
IU935 3^.5
= .416665 X VIII, = 23.24895 X c ; = 4 + 2,=IV— L,
=:V + S— T,= 111 + P, = 3 T — S, =22c + i5 2 + 5f,
;;^ 5 ^ -j. 1 2 £ + 1 0 s : it is also ^ 3 V + II I — 4 4ths, by
which it may be tuned ; and if this be above teiior-clitT C
(of 240 vil).) it will be found to beat sharp therewith
1.08387 per second: its length of string being .7491541.
It is the minor fourth in Farky's Equal Tanfuraments
(sec that article), and is equal CE'^^f, and to fourteen other
intervals on Mr Listoii's Euu.\rmomc Organ.

32
Shar/i Fourth', or Greater Fourth ; its ratio is ■— = 301

2 + 6 f + 26 m. Sec Major Fourth.

Shar/i Fourth, of Bemetzricder ; has the ratio ^^",

tz 3 12 2 + 6 f + 27 m. See Comma redundant major

Fourth.

7
Sliarji Fourth of Holden; has the ratio— ,=314.947095

2+6f+27m, and its log. = .8450980,4001 : it is also
the flat fifth, and the lesser fifth of Hussey and Webb.
Sharp. Fourth of Hussey and Webb ; has the ratio

-,:= 297.060765 2 + 6f+25m. See their il/o/or Fourth.

1 8
Sharp Fourth of some writers ; has the ratio — ,

— 290 2 + 5 f + 25 ni. See Comma-deficient Major
Fourth.

. . 152
Superfluous Fourth of Bemetzvieder ; its ratio isr— ri

r:i 312 2 + 6 f + 27 m. See Comma-redundant major
Fourth.

Superjiuous Fourth of Cliambers and Marsli ; has the

18
ratio — , = 290 2 + 6 f + 25 m. See Comma-dejicient ma ■

jor Fourth.

Superjiuous Fourth of Chladni ; has the ratio— j, =301

B + 6 f + 25 m. See Major Fourth.

Superjiuous Fourth of Galileo ; lias the ratio f^, = 265

S + 5 f + 23 ni. See Cofmna redundant minor Fourth.

Temperaments of the Fourths, in regularly tempered
douzeaves : these are the same, but with contrary signs, as
those of their complemcntal fifths, respectively, i. e. if the
fifths have flat teiripcrameDts, the fourths will have sharp
ones, and -iijce versa. Thus, if elcvtn of the fourths in an
octave are alike tempered, the remaining one or wolf tem-
perament will bei:::^^ — the sum of these 11 fourth tem-
peraments.

The eIov,en temperaments of the fourths, are each,;z
Jc — itcn.p. Ill; or^c — -} temp. VI ; and the fourth
wolfiiZ y temp. Ill -fie — £ j or y temp. VI + ^ c — J.

FOWEY, or Fawey, is a burgh and sea-port town of
England, in the county of Cornwall. It is situated on the
western bank of the river Fawy, which here swells itself
into a spacious harbour. The town stretches for more

"FOX

than a mile along the banks of the river. The hoiises are
principally built of stone, but the streets are so angular,
and irregular, and narrow, that wheeled carriages cannot
pass through any of them. The church is a large build-
ing, and seems to have been erected about the time of
Edward IV. It lias a huge and two smaller aisles, and a
handsome tower on the west. The maikel-housc is large
and spacious, and over it is a neat town hall, erected some
time ago by Philip Rashleigh, Esq. and Lord Viscount
Valletort, who then rej)resented the burgh in parliament.
The town also contains two good free schools, an alms-
house for eight decayed widows, and a poor's-house. The
ancient mansion, called tlie Place, or Treffry -house, is
situated on an eminence on the north side of the church,
and though now in a state of decay, has once been a hand-
some building.

The greater part of the inhabitants of Fowey are con-
nected with the pilchard fishery. More than 28,000 hogs-
heads of fish arc annually brought into this port. The
harbour is now defended by two small batteries, and by St
Catherine's fort, which stands on the summit of a magni-
ficent pile of rocks, that bounds one of the creeks of the
river. This furt was built by the tov.nsmen, in the reign
of Henry VIII. On both sides of the river Fawy, the
scenery is extremely picturest|ue. The rocks are com-
posed of a hard bluish slate, containing broad veins of jet
cjuartz. The ruins of two square stone towers exist on
the rocks on the opposite side of the harbour.

The following is the statistical abstract for 181 1, includ-
ing the town and parish :

Inhabited houses, 227

Families, 320

Ditto employed in agriculture, .... 50
Ditto employed in trade and manufactures, 75

Males, 554

Females, 765

Total population, 1319

West Lung. 40° 37' 3l", North Lat. of Fowey windmill,
50° 20' 7".' See Polywhele's History of Cormmll ; Maton's
Observations on the Western Counties ; and the Beauties of
£.ngiand and Wales, vol. ii. p. 410. (w)

FOWLING-PiECE. See Gun Manufactory.
FOX, Charles James, second son of Henry Fox, Lord
Holland, and of Lady G C. Lennox, v/as born on the 13lh
January, O. S. 1748. He is said to have been extremely
indulged in liis childhood, and to have been gratified in
all his humours, however whimsical or capricious. At
an early age he was sent to V/estminster school, and soon
afterwards to Eton. There he was distinguished by his
promising genius, his power in captivating the affections
of his school-feliovvs, and the lead which he took in all
their sports and frolics. From Eton he went to Oxford,
where he was equally eminent for his literary attainments
and his dissipated habits. At a very early period of life
he made a short excursion to the Continent; and in 1768,
before he was of age, he took his seat in the House of
Commons as member for the borough of Midhurst. His
first appearance was in opposition to the popular politics
of the day ; and he was one of those who resisted the
return of Mr Wilkes for Middlesex. Under Lord North,
he was first a Lord of the Admiralty, and afterwards of
the Treasury ; but differed from the Premier on some
questions, particularly on that of the marriage act. After
the death of his father. Lord Holland, he was excluded
from his scat at the Board of Treasury ; and, his patrimony
having been already consumed by unbounded extrava-
gance, he became unhappily much addicted to the gamingi
table. In the debates on the differences with the colonies
in America, he came forward as a powerful speaker in

FOX.

253

epposition to the ministry ; at first appearing as only tiic
pupil of Burke, but soon rising- as ihu t;(|ual, and in many
respects tlic superior, oi' tluit accomplished orator. The
American war, lliou^h popular iu Its vriijin, recommend-
ing itstlf both to l)\c pride and avarice ol' the naiion, y.t,
by the repeated failiii'cs of our military operations, soon
became odious to the pccjple ; and, by the exertior>s of Fox
and his friends, was finally condemned in Parliament. Mr
Fox then became Secretary of State under the new ad-
ministration, of which the Marquis of Rockingham was
liie nominal head ; and several acts were passed, which
tended to reduce the influence of the crown, and to enforce
a greater degree of puljlic economy. But the liope of
peace, which the nation had been encouraged to entertain,
was not realized by the new ministry ; and the death of
the Marquis of Rockingham produced jealousies in the
cabinet, which ended in Mr Fox's secession. The Earl
of Shelburne was advanced to the situation of prime minis-
ter, and Mr Pitt, at the age of twenty-three, was made
Chancellor of the" Exchequer. A general peace was con-
cluded ; but Lord North and Mr Fox, who had hitherto
appeared as the most determined enemies to each other,
having united in a vote, declaring the terms of pacification
inadequate, the treaty was condemned by Parliament, and
the administration consequently resigned. A new cabinet
was formed under the Duke of Portland, and Lord North
and Mr Fox became joint Secretaries of State, — a coali-
tion, which some have considered as fixing a stain on the
political character of the latter ; while others have marked
it with high approbation, as a laudable sujjpression of party
feuds for the good of the country. It was certainly, at the
time, somewhat revolting to the moral feelings of the na-
tion, and served to produce a deep impression of the in-
sincerity of public men. The only transaction of impor-
tance, during this admir-lstration, was the India Bill of
Mr Fox, which he introduced with great ability, and which
passed the House of Commons by a strong majority. It
was represented by its advocates as a wise and generous
rescue of the natives of India from oppression ; but was
censured, on the other hand, as not merely an unwarranta-
ble violation of the India Company's charter, but also as
a measure full of danger to the constitution, inasmuch as,
by lodging the whole patror,<ige of India in a few persons,
it produced a degree of political 'nfluence, which might
be equally pernicious, whether it was added or opposed to
that of the crown. Some suggestions of this nature, pri-
vately conveyed to the royal ear by a person out of admin-
istration, caused its faihiie in the House of Lords; and a
new administration was formed under Mr Pitt, in the face
of a majority of the House of Commons. In consequence
of a dissolution of parliament, many of Mr Fox's friends
lost their seats in the House; and his own re-election for
Westminster was made the subject of a long and severe
scrutiny, of which he loudly complained, as an unworthy
persecution on the part of the court. Whatever were the
views of Mr Pitt in the inquiry, whether to support the
just rights of election, or to free himself from a political
adversary, the House of Commons refused to concur in
his wishes ; and Mr Fox's return was sustained by a ma-
jority of nearly 40 votes.

F"or a long period, Mr Fox must be regarded, in his
public life, as generally the opponent of Mr Pitt's mea-
sures ; and, though his exertions, as his warmest admi-
rers must allow, were sometimes calculated chiefly to ha-
rass the ministry, yet neither can it be denied, that, in many
cases, they proved highly beneficial to the state. He ve-
hemently opposed the commutation act, and the transfer
of certain duties to the excise, a measure, of which the
good efl'ects are now generally admitted, and the commer-

cial treaty with France in 1736, of which the principal
fault cerlaiiUy was, that it was too favourable to Great
Britain to be long observed by the other country. liu
coiulenuied also the projjosilions for assimilatiiig the com-
mercial regulations for England and Irelan:!, winch nothing
but the jealousy of political independence in the latter
country could have enabled tlie opposition to set aside.
He resisted es[)ccially the regency bill, during the king's
illness in 1788 ; a (lucstion in which the two great politi-
cal leaders of the country seem to have, in some degree,
exchanged political principles. It was afllrmed by Mr
Fox, that the two Houses of Parliament had no other pow-
er than to declare the temporary vacancy of the throne,
and that the Prince of Wales had then an unquestionable
right, without any limitation in the jirerogatives of royalty,
to assume the vacant place. Mr Pitt protested against
this doctrine, as little less than " treason against the con-
stitution ;" and maintained the right of Parliament both to
appoint a regency, and to limit its powers, as circum-
staiiccs might direct. He admitted, indeed, the expedien-
cy ot nominating the Prince as regent, and of leaving him
unfettered l)y any council ; while Mr Fox also conceded
the adjudication of the Prince's right to be the privilege
of Pal liament. It is scarcely possible to avoid the con-
clusion, that each party were in some measure, perhaps
insensibly, swayed in their political views, by their own
apprehensions and expectations. The bill was supported
only by a small majority ; but the king's recovery happily
prevented all further discussion of its principle, which is
perhaps one of the most delicate that can be publicly agi-
tated.

Mr Fox displayed all the vigour of his talents in push-
ing the trial of Mr Hastings ; and it is worthy of remark,.
that the second article of the charge, of which he was the
mover, was admitted by Mr Pitt as containing matter of
impeachment. He succeeded also in resisting the design
ol the premier to prevent, by an armed mediation, the oc-
cupation by Russia of the conquered territory between the
Bog and the Dneistcr; and thus probably saved the coun-
try from being involved in an expensive and unwarranta-
ble contest. In a few instances, these rival leaders are
found to have concurred in supporting some of the most
important measures of finance, and most essential princi-
ples of the constitution. Mr Fox supported Mr Pill's mo-
tion for reforming parliament, by abolishing 36 rotten bo-
roughs ; and approved of the bill for establishing a sink-
ing fund. On the other hand, he received the concur-
rence of the minister in his declaratory acts for asserting
the right of juries to judge in cases of libel. But the most
gratifying instance of their agreement appears in the mea-
sures which were proposed for the abolition of the slave
trade ; and, throughout the whole of this cause, so inte-
resting to humanity, the character of Mr Fox is placed in
the most favourable point of view. He entered, from the
first, and witii the greaiest ardour, into the condemnation
of that infamous traffic; and, without wailing for any in-
quiry into its accidental barbarities, or its general impo-
licy, wished, as every man of right feelings must have
done, to denounce it at once, as, in every aspect, iniquitous
and inhuman. He was one of the many excellent and in-
lightened individuals ^n Great Britain, who hailed, with
friendly feelings, the rising liberties of France in the com-
mencement of the year 1789; but it has been considered
as ill some measure derogatory from his political sagacity,
that he did not sooner detect, in the progress of that revo-
lution, the principles of anarchy with which it was fraught.
It was in the year 1790, in a debate on the army estimates,
that the French revolution was first noticed in the British
Parliament ; and Mr Fox having expressed his approba-

254

FOX,

tion ill general terms, Mv Burke took occasion to point
ovit the (lan^yci's which it threatened to regular govern-
ments. This drew a reply from Mr Fox, guarding his
commendations of the French patriots, yet dilVering from
the doctrines of his friend; and, though both speeches
were full of strongly complimentary expressions, a sepa-
ration was unequivocally implied between these two emi-
nent characters, who had so long pursued their political
career as tiie most faithful associates. Fvcn in a succeed-
ing session of Parliament, after the King of France had
remained another year as a prisoner in his capital, Mr
Fox is understood to have characterised the revolution in
that country as a stujjendous and glorious edifice of liber-
ty, erected on the foundation of human integrity ; and
tiiough he subsequently qualified his expressions, by limit-
ing his approbation to the destruction of the absolute mo-
liurchy, yet his language unfortunately conveyed to multi-
tudes, who revered his authority, or who wished to avail
themselves of his name, a general sanction of French prin-
ciples, lie was very far, however, from being a republi-
can theorist; and his lingering partiality to the French re-
volution may be ascribed to his general love of political
freedom, his naturally ardent feelings, and particularly to
his extremely unsuspicious disposition, which may have
led him to confide too much in the good intentions of the
Krst revolutionists in France. When, in 1791, the French
monarch was committed to custody, and preparing for
trial, Mr Fox expressed in Parliament a wish to interpose
in his behalf, by some declaration of the opinion of the
House ; but afterwards concurred with Mr Pitt in abstain-
ing from all interference, lest it might serve only to exas-
perate the National Assembly. In 1793, when seditious
societies in Great Britain were corresponding with the Na-
tional Convention, and the Alien Bill was proposed, in or-
der to provide against Jacobin emissaries frorn France, Mr
Fox seemed to consider these precautionary measures as
stronger than the apprehended dangers required; and,
while he execrated the murder of Louis XVI. he resisted
the preparations for joining in the war against France,
chiefiy upon the principle, that whatever might be al-
leged as the ground of hostilities, the true object was to
interfere in the internal government of the country.*

When a message from his Majesty, on the 12th of Fe-
bruary 1793, announced the important intelligence, that
the French convention had declared war against Great
Britain and the States of Holland, Mr Fox, while he still
insisted that the conduct of the British government had
not been sufficiently candid and conciliating, was willing
that the address from the House to the Throne should
convey a promise of support against every hostile attempt
of France, and in such other exertions as might be neces-
sary to procure such terms of pacification as might be con-
sistent with the honour of his Majesty's crown, the inte-
rests of his people, and the security of his allies. There
can now be little doubt, that it answered the purposes of
the despotic rulers who successively directed the military
energies of France, to involve the nation in war with fo-
reign powers; and that their triumphant troops could
scarcely be termed a nation of freemen resisting the inva-
sion of tyrants ; yet it must be allowed, that Mr Fox's pre-
dictions, of the failure of the coalkion against them, ap-
proached very near to the actual result. Flis forebodings,
however, of the ruin of the British constitution, in conse-
quence of the suspension of the Flabeas Corpus Act, and

the treason and sedition bills, have happily failed of their
fulfilment; and, though the two last measures were no
doubt infringements upon the freedom of the subject, yet
as mere temporary enactments, they may be considered
as justified by the alarming aspect of tlie times, and as
sufficiently conformable to the spirit of our constitution,
which supposes parliament to provide, by temporary laws,
against special dangers. Even Mr Fox's resistance to
these bills evidently rested only upon his disbelief of those
seditious designs against the government, which could
alone have rendered them necessary ; and, although future
events, particularly the confessions of O'Comior, have
proved the existence of such treasonable practices, where
Mr Fox had no suspicion of their being entertained ; the
same discoveries have equally shewn, that he was most
unjustly charged with participating in any revolutionary
schemes. But so unfavourable was the impression made
by his speeches in parliament in that period of public agi-
tation, that in 1798, his name was erased by his Majesty
from the list of privy councillors ; and so decided, on the
other hand, was his disapprobation of the conduct pursued
by the ministry, that, contrary to the opinion of many of
his political friends, he forbore his attendance in the House
of Commons till his services might seem more likely to
benefit his country. He appealed, however, in his place,
in opposition to the triple assessment bill, the income and
property tax, and particularly the Union v.'ilh Ireland, which
he condemned principally on the ground of its being ef-
fected by means of influence, and in defiance of the general
wishes of the Irish people. He was occasionally drawn
from his retirement by the state of continental affairs ; and
was ready to support every motion, which favoured the
opening of negociations for peace. He exerted all his
powers especially in recommending a conciliating reply
to the letter, which, in 1799, Bonaparte, as Grand Consul,
addressed to the King of England, inviting negociation ;
and, though it has since been admitted by those who con-
cur in Mr Fox's political views, that the able delineation
given by Mr Pitt of the principles and aims of the French
Chief, was extremely correct, yet it is impossible to vin-
dicate the lofty tone and irritating proposals expressed
in the answer of the British government. When Mr Ad-
dington's administration concluded the peace of Amiens
in ISOl, Mr Fox, always consistent in pressing the spirit
of pacification, joined with Mr Pitt in approving, or rather
accepting the peace, as the best that could have been ex-
pected. Indeed, however just we may regard the war
in its commencement, it can scarcely be denied, that Mr
Fox faithfully pointed out several important errors in its
progress, and in many respects gave good advice to his
country. But his invariable and inveterate opposition
to almost every measure of the administration, occasion-
ed many of the trutlis which he uttered to be heard by
many with nearly as invariable and inveterate preju-
dice. Upon the renewal of war in 1802, Mr Fox spoke
with great eloquence in support of peace; and must be
allowed to have shewn, that, however clear our grounds
of complaint against the conduct and designs of the
French ruler, the direct and instant appeal to arms was
neither justified by sound policy, nor enforced by strong
necessity. The friends of Mr Pitt, of Mr Fox, and of Lord
Grenville, having concurred, without any plan of junc-
tion, in denouncing the inefficiency of the military system
of the government, the prime minister announced his in-

Tiie great question in deciding upon the origin of the war with France, is simply this, whether the dangers to which this country was
exposed from the hostile encroachments and revolutionary views of the French rulers, were sufficiently great and evident, to warrant our
preparations against them ; and whether the wisdom of these preparations was or was not counterhalancecl, by provoking tlie declaration of
hostilities on the part of France. We refer to the speech of Mr Pitt in the House of Commons, on the 12tb of February 1793, and to that
tit Mr Giey in the House of Lords, on the Slstof that month, as containing an authentic view of the arguments of botli parties..

FOX.

ttJtition to withdraw from office ; and Mr Pitt recommend-
ed to the king; the fonnation of a ministry on the broad-
est basis ; but the mind of the sovereign was decidedly ad-
verse to the admission of Mr Fox, who, together with Loid
Grcnville, continued in opposition. Upon the death of Mr
Pitt, however, and in the difficult circumstances of the
country at that time, his Majesty docs not appear to have
testified any reluctance to Mr Fox's appointment as foreign
secretary of slate ; who, on his part, now advanced in years,
and declining in health, can scarcely be considered as hav-
ing been actuated in his acceptance by any views of per-
sonal ambition. One of the first acts of his administration,
the introduction of the Lord Chief Justice into the cabinet,
was made the subject of complaint in parliament ; and such
a measure, however vindicated by the right of prerogative,
can scarcely be reconciled either with the views of expe-
diency, or the principles of the constitution. In regard to
foreign politics, the new government could not easily alter
the course adopted by their predecessors; and Mr Fox
therefore deemed it the most advisable plan to cultivate the
connection, which still subsisted between Great Britain and
the continental powers, and especially to draw a firmer al-
liance with Russia. In his financial measures, he adhered
still more closely to those of his predecessor; and his in-
crease of the property tax from 6i to 10 per cent, was ob-
viously rendered necessary by the state of the country. His
military plans, which consisted chiefly of the training bill,
and the conversion of the service of regulars for life into
service for a term of years, though both of them commen-
dable in their principle, and calculated to produce the best
effects, were nevertheless obviously inadequate to supply
that great and immediate addition of strength, which all
parties had acknowledged to be wanting in present emer-
gencies. His measures respecting Ireland, also, varied very
little from those of Mr Pitt; and the Catholic claims were
advised to be postponed. The pid)lic money, however,
ivas not so lavishly applied to foreign subsidies ; a milder
exercise of power is understood to have taken place in
Ireland ; the interests of liberty were protected by the
limitation of military service to a term of years ; and above
all, the abolition of the slave trade, is sufficient of itself to
immortalize the administration of Mr Fox and his friends.
With these, and a few other exceptions, it must be admit-
ted, that the change which had taken place, was more of
men than of measures ; that the new ministry made nearly
the same apologies for the increase of public burdens,
■which their predecessors had used ; and that the new op-
position displayed nearly all that hostility and asperity to-
wards administration, which they had condemned in the old.
There is much justice, indeed, in what has been alleged by
the friends of Mr Fox, that many things censured by him
in the conduct of former ministers could not, when done,
be easily altered ; and that it was only by the gradual ap-
plication of better principles, that any great amelioration
could be effected in public affairs. Yet there can be no
doubt, that many of his previous admirers were seriously
disappointed, in perceiving so little apparent eflect pro-
duced by his exaltation to power ; and it can scarcely be
denied, that these expectations, though unreasonable in
themselves, had been too much encouraged by his general
conduct in opposition. His administration, however, was
too short in its duration to afford a full opportunity for the
exertion of his talents, and the application of his principles.
His declining health, also, when he entered upon tlie la-
bours ot oflice,must have contributed materially to enfeeljle
his hopes of accomplishing much as a public leader ; and
it i4.probable, that the prospect of being able to conclude
an iionourable peace with France was one of his principal
inducements to accept tlft anxious and arduous station of

a British premier. The ncgociation for tliis great object,
the last act of his political life, commenced in 1806, ancf
originated in his indignant rejection of a proposal to assas-
sinate the Emperor of the French. As a general basis for
iiegociation, he recommended " a peace, honourable for
both parties and their allies, and calculated to secnie the
tranquillity of Europe;" and, as a more specific ground of
the intended treaty, the French government verbally agreed
to the principle of mi /lossidelis. But new objects of am-
bition arising to the French, and the health of Mr Fos
rapidly declining, they departed from their verbal profes-
sions, and, with many personal compliments to the Britisb
Secretary of Stale, and a little rudeness to the British pleni-
potentiary at Paris, terminated the negociation.

We have been unwilling to interrupt the preceding sketch
of Mr Fox's public career, by advening to tlie history of
his private life ; and there is little space left for inore than
a few slight notices on the subject. The irregular habits
of his earlier years were not forsaken in the bustle of poli-
tical contests ; and, at one period, involved him in the
greatest pecuniary difliculties, from which he was extricat-
ed by the subscriptions of his friends, upon the express
condition of withdrawing his attendance from the gaming
table. His better judgment seems to have condemned the
immoral courses in which he engaged, and into which he
appears to have frequently been drawn by unworthy asso-
ciates, whom his indolent good nature, and easy urbanity,
admitted too freely into his friendship. He gave (iroof of
a taste for purer pleasures, by the case and alacrity with
which, at seasons of occasional leisure and retirement, he
recurred to literary pursuits and epistolary compositions.
Even in his youth, when the marriage act was under the
consideration of parliament, he gave a public testimony to
the miseries of a dissolute life; and, on several other oc-
casions, clearly shewed, that he did not approve the lax
morality of the French philosophy. Though deficient,
therefore, in practice., in a degree not to be justified, anil
particularly to be lamented in a character so distinguished
in other respects, he ought not to be regarded as having
been, upon principle, a mere dissipated man of pleasure.
His marriage, which was first announced in 1802, though
said to have taken place in 1780, may be considered, it has
been justly observed, as " a homage. which he paid to vir-
tue ;" and his later years were sjicnt, witb little interrup-
tion, in the simple enjoyments of domestic life, or in an as-
siduous attendance on public duty. When residing in his
favourite retirement at St Anne's hill, as stated by one of hig
biographers, he usually rose before eight o'clock in the
morning; breakfasted, and read the newspapers; perused
some Italian author Vv'ilh Mrs Fox ; spent an hour or two
in study ; sat down to a frugal but plentiful dinner at three
or four; drank a few glasses of wine, followed by coffee;
walked or conversed till tea-time ; emijloyed the evening
in reading, or listening to the reading of liistory, till near
ten; and concluded the day with a slight repast of fruit, or
of something equally trifling. When residing in town, he
generally went to his office at eleven o'clock, where he re-
mained unlil tlu-ee ; and, as long as his health permitted,
continued to bestow the most punctual and active attention
upon his duties, frequently even directing in person t)ie
more minute transactions of his department. About the
end of May 1806, his health was visilily affected, and his
disorder was pronounced to be of a dropsical nature. On
the 7th of August, he underwent the operation of tapping;
and, for several days after, was considered to be in a very
hazardous state. He requested to be removed to his resi-
dence at St Anne's Hill ; but with dilflculty reached the
house of the Earl of Devonshire, at Chiswick, where a se-
cond tapping was performed on the 3Qth of August. After

256

FOX.

thq opcrallon, lie experienced a temporary revival ; hut, in
a few days, every liopc of his recovery vanished, and his
friends weie permiUed to take their leave of liim. During
his illness he is said to have expressed an anxious wisli that
he might live to witness the aliolition of the slave trade;
and he lefl it as his dying charge to his political friends,
that they should persevere in their efforts for the accom-
plishment of that glorious object. In his last moments, he
put the hand of Mrs Fox into tliat of Lord Holland, and
then, placing his own \ipou theirs, " God bless you," lie
said, " I die in peace : I pily you." These arc reported to
have been the last words v.hicli he uttered; and he expir-
ed on the 13th of September 1 806, in the 59lh year of his
age.

At a time when even Mr Fox's nearest relatives and
warmest friends have declared that insuperable objections
exist to a memoir of his life, it is no easy task to oR'er even
an obscure and unpretending sketch of his character; and,
were there not some approved and experienced guides to
point out the leading marks, we should never have attempt-
ed the. outlines of such a portrait.

Mr Fox, in his person, was rather under the middle
stature; and, though celebrated for agility in his youth,
■was of a corpulent habit during the grci'.tcr |)art of his life.
IFis chest was capacious, his shoulders broad, his hair dark
and thick, his complexion dusky, bis eye-brows black and
bushy, and his countenance, especially in the course of
argument, pecuiiary animated and e::pressive.

In liis political life, he had been so constantly and eager-
ly engaged in compassing the overthrow of ministry, that
lie will probably appear, to every indifferent observer,
more in the character of a determim-d party-leader, than
of an enlightened statesman ; and yet it may be doubted
whether his ardent attachment to the political body of which
lie was the head, did not proceed as much from the warmth
of his friendship, as from the spirit of party. This consi-
deration may at least account as honourauly as most others
for the unquestionable fact, of his having consented, in the
course of his public career, to join every one of those
Tvhom he had systematically opposed ; and which, though
it will not exempt him from the charge of inconsistency,
may vindicate his name from the more heavy reproach of
insincerity. He was almost uniformly the undaunted
champion of constitutional freedom; and it can scarcely
be doubted, that'his resolute resistance to the slightest en-
croachments of 'government may have often acted as a salu-
tary restraint. Yet, in some instances, he was opposed not
merely to the popular cause, as in the case of Mr Wilkes,
but even to the principles of liberty, as in those of the Re-
gency Bill, and the admission of the Chief Justice into the
cabinet. As a speaker in parliament, Mr Fox stands in
the first rank ; and, though originally the pupil of Mr
Burke, he soon displayed more commanding powers. He
■was more vehement in manner, more forcible in argument,
more consummately master of the science of debate. He
sometimes hesitated in the commencement of a speech,
frequently indulged in digressions, and occasionally even
in repetitions, or gave loose to a flow of popular declama-
tion, instead of senatorial reasoning; but he was always
fluent when his feelings were roused, and was able, with the
utmost skill, to tread back his steps, when hard pressed,
■without seeming to retreat from an untenable position, or
to return from an unnecessary digression. Whatever be-
came of his subject, he bent his whole force to trample
down his enemy; and exercised a degree of talent in par-
liamentary warfare wiiich has never been rivalled. He was
equally prepared to perplex his adversary by ingenuity, to
overawe him by violence, or to overwhelm him with a tor-
rent of eloquent abuse. He is acknowledged to have been

peculiarly successful in reply, never failing to take advat-
tage of the concessions or contradictions of his opponents,
and to turn upon them with their own weapons. *' I knew
him," says Mr Burke, in a pamphlet written subsequently
to their separation, " when he was nineteen; since which
time, he has risen by slow degrees to be the most brilliant
and accomplished debater that the world ever saw."

In the accomplishments and endearments of private life,
Mr Fox's character was peculiarly attractive; and he was
at all times remarkably beloved in the circle of Ill's friends.
He was frank and unassuming in manners, kind and gen-
tle in dispositions, and, according to those who knew him
best, possessed even the simplicity of a child. " He was,"
says Sir James Mackintosh, " gentle, modest, placable,
kind, of simple manners, and so averse from parade and
dogmatism, as to be not only unostentatious, but even some-
what inactive in conversation. His superiority was never
felt, but ill the instruction which he imparted, or in the at-
tention which his generous jireference usually directed to
the more obscure members of the comjwny. His conver-
sation, when it was not repressed by modesty or indolence,
was delightful. The pleasantry, perhajis, of no man of wit
had so unlaboured an appearance. Itsi ?med ratherlo escape
from his mind, than to be produced by it. His literature
was various and elegant. In classical erudition, which, by
the custom of England, is more peculiarly called learning,
lie was inferior to few professed scholars. Like all men
of genius, he delighted to take refuge in poetry, from the
vulgarity and irritation of business. His own verses were
easy and pleasing, and might have claimed no low place
among those which the French call Vera de Societe. He
disliked political conversation, and never willingly took any
part in it. Perhaps nothing can more strongly prove the
deep impression made by this amiable part of his character,
than the words of Mr Burke, who, in January 1797, six
years alter all intercourse between them had ceaseo, speak-
ing to a person honoured with some degree of Mr Fox'-s
friendship, said, " To be sure, he is made to be loved ;"
and the emphaiical words were uttered with a fervour of
manner, which left no doubt of their heart-felt sincerity.
F'rom these qualities of his private, as well as from tiis pub-
lic character, it probably arose, that no English statesman
ever preserved, during so long a period of adverse for-
tune, so many afi'ectionate friends, and so many zealous ad-
herents.

Mr Fox was distinguished from his youth as a literary
character; and various productions of his pen attest the
elegance of his taste, and the accuracy of his classical at-
tainments. His compositions, while at Eton, his fugitive
poetry, and several of his speeches ; his " Letter to the
Electors of Westminster," published in 1793, upon the
composition of which he is understood to have bestowed
considerable attention ; his correspondence with Mr Wake-
field, which evinces an intimate and critical acquaintance
with the Greek and Roman writers ; a few letters to Mr
Ti otter, published in rlie Memoir of his life by that gentle-
man, which furnish additional specimens of his exquisite
taste, and amiable benevolence ; and especially his " His-
tory of the early part of the Rt-ign of James II.," left un-
finished, and published after his death, remain as monu-
ments of his distinguished talents, and testimonies of his
relish for the pleasures of taste. To the introductory chap-
ter, prefixed by Lord Holland to the last mentioned work,
we must refer our readers for more minute information re-
specting the private studies and literary opinions of this dis-
tinguished person.

The sentiments of this great man on the subject of
religion have unhappily been st^ated in a manner so con-
tradictory, as almost to warrant the conclusion that- they

FOX

25:

5veve not very determinate. One of Iiis warmest admirers,
who enjoyed much of his intimacy during the last cii^iit
years of his life, who attended his sickbed, and witnessed
his last moments, positively afl'ums Mr Fox's belief of
Christianity, and denies that he ever heard him utter a
single expression, or give the slightest indication of doubt
or disbelief of its truth. At the same lime, while he des-
cribes Mr Fox's whole demeanour during his painful
illness, to have been expressive not of stoic hardihood, but
of patient resignation to Divine l^'rovidence, he has not
recorded any direct allusion, in his friend's conversation,
to one Christian principle of faith or hope. He is report-
ed to have said to one of his friends, " What do you think,
my Lord, of the state of the soul after death ?" and to have
proceeded to observe, " I should have believed in the im-
mortality of the soul, though Christianity never had exist-
ed ; but how it acts, when separated from the body, is
beyond my capacity of judging. This, however, I shall
know by Christmas," One thing is certain, that both in
private life, and whenever he touched upon religious topics
in parliament, he uniformly used the language of rcve-
I'ence, and shewed that he held sacred the right of private
judgment in religion; avoided giving offence to religious
feelings, or even prejudices, and testified respect to every
scruple on the subject which was truly conscientious.
" On the score of religion," says Mr Trotter, who des-
cribes Mr Fox's demeanour in his continental tour, " I per-
ceived that he did not merely iolerate, for that word ill ap-
plied to his disposition on sacred matters, but was truly
benignant, for he conceived that all human beings enjoyed
the exercise of religious worship, and the self-possession
of religious opinions, as a matter of right, not to be con-
trouled by their fellow men ; that inoffensive and good
citizens did not require the permission of others for this
mental enjoyment, and that all were entitled to honour the
Deity in a decent and pious manner, without reflection or
reproach. There never escaped from his lips one disre-
spectful word regarding religion ; never one doubtful smile
vas seen in his countenance in a place of worship, or the
slightest derogation from a solemn and respectful regard
for all around him." See Mr Fox's correspondence with
Wakefield ; introductory chapter by Lord Holland to Mr
Fox's Histortj of James II. ; Trotter's Memoirs of the latter
Years of Air I^ox ; and Life of Mr Fox, in the Christian
Observer, vols. vi. and vii. (y)

FOX Islands. A great rhnin of ielnnda atictchcD across
that part of the North Pacific Ocean bounded by the pen-
insula of Kamtschatka on the Asiatic continent, and that
of Alaska in North America. The first of these towards
the west, was discovered in the earlier part of the eigh-
teenth century, by Capt. Vitus Behring, a Dane in the
Russian service, and named after him ; and the second,
twenty-seven miles from it to the east, was called Copper
Island. Both were greatly frequented by the Russians,
on account of the valuable furs obtained from the animals
of the surrounding seas ; and a company of adventurers
from Kamtschatka having prosecuted farther discoveries,
ascertained, in the year 1745, that other islands lay farther
to the east. Having wintered on one of them to kill sea
otters, they continually advanced farther on ; and, after
various successes and discomfitures, at length, by means
of intermediate islands, reached the American continent.
This chain was known by difi'erent appellations bestowed
on certain groups of it, which the progress of discovery
proved were only a short way detached from the rest ; and
they were in general divided into the Aleutian, Andreanovi,
and Fox Islands : but late navigators are disposed to in-
clude the whole chain under the name of Aleutian or Fox
Islands; while it is sometimes proposed, though without

Vol. IX. Part L

any apparent good reason, to except Behiing's and Cop-
per Island from the number. It is not diflicult to antici-
pate, however, that this separation will soon be abandoned.
The Fox Islands in position resemble a circular arc, ex-
tending from 165" to 195° of longitude cast; the most
southern island lies in about 53° of north latitude, and the
most northern, at each extremity, in 55°. These islands
are of all difi'erent sizes, below 104 miles in length, which
is that of Behring's Island, and are divided by channels of
very inie(|ual width. 'J'his last is 192 miles from the har-
bour of St Peter and St Paul, in Kamtschatka. Copper
Island, which is mountainous, and twenty-five miles long,
lies due east, and is the first of the Aleutian, or Fox
Islands, properly so denominated. Attoo is 60 miles in
length, and 188 miles from Copper Island: Next is Agat-
too, twenty miles distant, and six in length ; then Buldyr,
an oval rock, six miles by ten, distant 70 miles ; and so on,
regarding the rest, to Omnak, Oonalashka, and Oonemak,
next to Alaska. Some of these islands are disposed in
clusters; and although the number of the Fox Islands was
originally calculated at sixteen, many more are now in-
cluded. Indeed, to judge by recent occurrences, they ap-
pear to receive accessions: In the year 1795, a thick fog
having obscured a rock which was the favourite resort of
the Aleutians in their hunting excursions, thirty miles
north-west of Oonalashka, they found the sea, on approach-
ing it, in a state of ebullition, and vast quantities of vapour
rising around. Concluding that it was haunted by evil
spirits, no one would again venture thither during the lapse
of five years, when a few more courageous than the rest,
ascertained that a volcanic island had sprung up, discharg-
ing fire and smoke from a crater in its summit. In the
year 1S06, this island had augmented to about twenty miles
in circuit : lava flowed from it down into the sea, and the
heat was so great as to preclude landing on that particular
side. There are always some volcanoes in activity among
these islands ; and others, once known to have blazed, are
now quiescent. Earthquakes are common from such sub-
terraneous fires, and the concussions are violent. Huts
were thrown down in 1802, when a long-extinguished vol-
cano in Oonalashka began to burn, and the flames from
the new erupted island ceased ; but they were renewed
soon after. The Fox Islands are of barren aspect ; the
mountains are conspicuous, being in general high and
conical, and covered with snow during a great portion of
the year. Nothing is produced in the whole course of
the Aleutian chain, except low shrubs and bushes. There
are no trees ; but, to compensate for this defect, recourse
is had to drift wood, often of large size, floated on shore
from America and other countries by the tides. The lower
vallies produce abundance of fine grass, but the islands are
destitute of cattle ; and there are different indigenous roots,
as also potatoes, recently introduced by foreign settlers,
which afford subsistence to the inhabitants. Berries are
collected, and laid up for winter provision.

Considerable variety of fish frequent the surrounding
seas, such as whales, salmon, cod, herring, and holibut, of
such enormous size as to weigh several hundred pounds.
These are not coinmon food, but they are cut to pieces in
the water when caught, from being too heavy for the frail
canoes of the natives. On their first discovery, the Rus-
sians found innumerable phoca;, from which they obtained
valuable furs ; and for many years they continued to kill
thousands of sea otters, whose skins bore a high price at
that time, and still higher now, because, from unceasing
pursuit, their numbers are wonderfully diminislied. Not
above two or three hundred are at present taken annually,
whence their total extirpation in a short time is anticipat-
ed. But others arc of even greater importance to the in-

K k

258

FOX ISLANDS.

habitants, which are as ardently sought as the sea otter is
by strangers. Of one particular seal they eat the flesh ;
oil is extracted from its fat, which serves to illuminate
and warm their huts; the sinews are fashioned into thread ;
clothes, shoes, and household utensils, are madf^ of its skin ;
its paunch blown up, is used for holding liquors ; and the
oesophagus is fashioned into boots, impenetrable by water.
Nor is this all, lor the thin membrane of the entrails is
converted to a substitute for glass, in admitting light to
their subterraneous habitations ; and the whiskers are com-
posed into plumes for ornamental head-dresses.

The feathered tribes, particularly the aquatic kinds, arc
also numerous here, such as wild geese and wild ducks,
which are caught in spring, and salted for winter pro-
vender. Some of the rorks afl'ord a retreat to gulls and
auks during the breeding season, when their eggs are col-
lected and preserved for the same purpose. Eagles, par-
tridges, and buntings, are among thoac found always on
shore, and there are some species migi-atory.

When the RussiaTis first discovered the Aleutian chain,
they obtained the skins of foxes still more easily tlian those
of the sea otter, and yearly carried away many thousands.
Tliese animals were so abundant on the Fox Islands, when
restricted to a smaller portion of the cliain, that they thence
received their name ; and Steller, an ingenious naturalist,
who wintered on Behiing's Island, has left an interesting
description of the habits of those found there. But from
the same unremitting destruction, they are now almost as
much reduced in proportion r.s the sea otter, which has
induced the huntsmen to extend their snares still farther
east. Foxes and mice are the only indigenous quadrupeds
%vhich the later visitors have observed here ; but settlers
have endeavoured to introduce hogs at Oonalashka, and,
for want of other food, have supplied them with iish. This
is said to render the fat thin and oily, and to impart a dis-
agreeable fishy flavour to the flesh. The same has been
the case with poultry fed on dried fish, which the Russians
have likewise attempted : the fat becomes oily, and the
flesh soft and spongy.

The natives of the Aleutian Islands are of middle size,
of a very dark brown and healthy complexion, and resem-
bling an intermediate race between the Mongul Tartars
and North Americans. The face is in general round ; the
nose broad, small, and compressed ; the eyes black ; and
the hair, which is strong and wiry, of the same colour.
That of the men is cut short ; by the women it is likewise
cut short before, and made into a club on the back of the
head. The latter are rather handsome, and very com-
plaisant. Both sexes, unlike uncivilized nations, are clean
in their persons ; and their features, which are strongly
marked, have an agreeable and benevolent expression.

It is singular, that among the greater part, if not all the
savage tribes with which Europeans are acquainted, some
artificial disfiguration of the body is accounted ornamental.
The Aleutian females practise tattooing, particularly of
the upper lip, neck, arms, and chin : punctures are made
in the flesh, and a sort of coal-dust or charcoal rubbed in.
By this means, while the men carefully eradicate their
beards, the women, by the bluish tinge, exhibit the ap-
pearance of having acquired one. But from the Russian
settlers explaining to the younger females, that they
do not esteem these ornaments as any accession to their
beauty, tattooing has rather been brought i:,to disrepute,
and is now on the decline. However, they still practise
a custom much more tedious and deforming, in the per-
foration of the under lip, into which bones suspending
beads and other trinkets are inserted, while the whole are
retained by a kind of button in the inside of the mouth.
Here, in like manner, the settlers have found means to

signify to the Aleutian females, that their beauty is not
embellished by it, and the custom is daily decreasing. The
ears of the women are perforated all around with holes, to
which beads are suspended ; and the nose of the men is
likewise perforated to receive a piece of wood or bone the
size of a small c|uill, to which strings of glass beads are
hung on solemn occasions.

There is little difference in the external clothing of
either sex, the upper garment being a kind of frock or
sourtout, called ftarka, made of seal-skin, and formerly of
that of the sea-otter, or of the skins of birds. Though
simple in form, it is often neatly and variously ornament-
ed ; and the seams figured with stripes of thin leather,
ingeniously worked or dyed of gaudy colours, or long
white goats hair, brought hither as an article of trade from
Siberia. So much care and attention is bestowed on one
of these frocks, that sometimes a whole year is occupied
in completing it. The Aleutians have besides a kamleika,
or rain garment, made of the entrails of the seal, which,
being of a membranous substance, excludes the water ;
and although the pieces arc only three inches broad, the
whole are so neatly united, that the kamleika, though ex-
posed a whole day to rain, is never penetrated. The ex-
terior part of the Aleutian costume is now undergoing
some change, by the substitution of coarse cotton, or sail-
cloth. One of the most important parts of di-ess is a
wooden hat, fashioned so as to project over the eyes like
an umbrella. The material composing it is not only ex-
tiemely scarce, but difficult to be formed into any shape
with the rude and imperfect tools of the islanders. After
obtaining a thin plank, by laborious reduction, its ends arc
drawn together, and secured with tendons, an operation
always difficult and of uncertain success. It is then painted
with red ochre, which is procured from the different vol-
canoes, and ornamented with ivory, glass, amber, or above
all with the bristles of the beard of the sea-lion. The last
are particularly prized ; for, in addition to their rarity,
possession of a number proves the owner to be a skilful
huntsman, as each animal has only four : and a recent
voyager, who acquired one of these hats, adorned with the
whiskei's of 37 sea-lions, acquaints us that it was valued
at 80 rubles, or above 10/. sterling, among the islanders.
The women for the most part go barefooted, and wear
bracelets just above the ankle joints, and also on the
wrists ; they are besides veiy fond of rings on the fingers.
Both ee^ces entertain a. great partiality lor amber orna-
ments ; but nothing is so much esteemed among them as
long tapering shells, called sea-teeth., which, indeed, were
in such request, that during their days of greater affluence,
they did not scruple to give three or four sea-otter skins,
that is goods worth more than 12/. sterling at that lime,
for a small string of them, and what would now be quad-
ruple the sum.

The natives of the Fox Islands have very obscure ideas
of religion : they believe in kugahs or demons, whose evil
offices they seem desirous of averting ; and ever since be-
ing subjected to great inconvenience and distress by the ty-
ranny of their Russian visitors, consider tiiose of the latter
more powerful than their own. Apparently they worship
idols ; and they were accustomed, at an annual dance or fes-
tival, to wear masks neatly and fancifully ornamented, which
are now reported to be laid aside. Many have been bap-
tized after the ceremonies of the Greek church, professed
in Russia.

JVIarriage, in the proper acceptation of the term, does
not exist here ; a man takes as many wives as he can main-
tain, and these are purchased from their parents. Should
the purchaser repent of his bargain, the wife may be re-
turned, when he must restore part of the value received

FOX ISLANDS.

259

with her ; or should his prosperity decline, he may part
with the whole of them successively, and they are at liber-
ty then to seek other husbands. Instances occur where
the same woman has two husbands at once, who adjust
the terms on which they are mutually or respectively to
share her society ; and it is even not uncommon for men to
make an exchange of their wives. Whatever virtues these
people may possess, they are grossly deficient in that great
principle of morality, which binds the affection of the two
sexes to each other. Handsome boys are brought up like
girls, dressed and tattooed in the same manner, and in-
structed in all the arts practised by women for the gratifi-
cation of men. These miserable and degraded wretches
are denominated schopans, and what is singular, no means
have ever been taken to diminish their numbers.

Among the baibarous customs formerly practised by the
Aleutians, was slaughtering slaves of both sexes, at the
funeral of their deceased chiefs. This is now totally dis-
continued. Men and women are differently treated ; some-
times the bodies of the farmer are partially embalmed with
dried moss and grass, and interred in their best attire, along
with their arms and other implements, while the tomb is
adorned with coloured mats, embroidery, or painting ; but
the latter are treated with no such formalities. A mother
will keep her deceased child embalmed in her hut during
several months, always wiping it dry, and consenting to its
inhumation only on the commencement of putrescence, or
when she can be reconciled to the separation.

The Aleutians dwell in excavations of the earth, the sides
of which are lined with beams or poles of drift-wood washed
ashore, inserted to support a roof formed of similar mate-
rials. These excavations are from 20 to 40 yards in length,
and between six and ten in breadth ; earth is thrown over
llie roof, which affords a soil for vegetation, so that after the
habitations have stood some time, and are overgrown with
grass, an Aleutian village bears no imperfect resemblance to
an European church-yard Fifty,orevcn an hundred and fifty
individuals, dwell in the different divisions of the hut, which
is lighted by a small window covered with the membrana-
ceous intestines of the seal, or with dried fish skin ; and
into which they descend by an aperture that at the same
time gives egress to the smoke. But little cold is felt
witlun, and their habitations are seldom heated with fire.
Travellers affirm, that they are so warm that the inhabitants
sometimes sit naked in them. Their different divisions are
made by partitions of seal skin.

As the chief subsistence of the Aleutians is derived from
hunting and fishing, a large portion of Iheir time is devoted
to these pursuits; aid the greatest display of their art is
in the construction of their canoes and weapons. The for-
mer are remarkably neat, consisting of a wooden frame co-
vered with leather, and in the inside is a hole to receive the
body of the navigator sitting, around wliich a seal skin is so
tightly drawn as to exclude the water. In general, this
vessel contains only one person, sometimes two, and rarely
three. The length of the first is about eighteen feet, the
breadth nearly two feet, and the depth eighteen inches,
lightly yet firmly made, and capable of witlisianding a con-
siderable sea ; insomuch, that an Aleutian, in moderate wea-
ther, can paddle his baidarka, as it is called, ten miles an
hour, and can retain his seat in security, while his breast
is washed by breakers. Neither is much apprehension ex-
cited by storms ; for several baidarkas, when bound toge-
ther, easily resist the waves. Billings, a late voyager,
speaking of these vessels, exclaims," If perfect symmetry
and proportion constitute beauty, they are beautiful : to me
they appeared so beyond any thing that I ever beheld. I
have seen some of them as transparent as oiled paper,
through which you could trace every formation cf the in-

side, and the position of the natives sitting in each, whose
light dress, painted and plumed bonnet, together with his
perfect ease and activity, added infinitely to its elegance."
The beauty and construction of the baidarka are the sub-
ject of great emulation among the islanders. They have
another large open boat, called a baidar, capable of holding
fifteen or twenty people, which was formerly the common
property of a village, but all of them arc now in possession
of the Russians.

Should a whale be discovered, the Aleutians follow it in
their canoes, and watch the opportunity of raising its head
to breathe, to pierce it with a dart near the jjcctoral fin ;
then retiring while the animal grows fiiint with the loss of
blood, they revisit the spot frequently in the course of the
day, until at length, finding it dead, they tow it ashore. The
right of property is determined by the point of the weapon
wliich occasioned the mortal wound; a fact not difficult to
ascertain, as all their implements have a particular mark.
But the Russians always claim half of the whole fish. These
darts, which arc about four feet and a half long, are fea-
thered ; some are coloured red, some black, and fashioned
differently for the different animals against which they are
to be directed. They arc thrown with much force and pre-
cision, along a small board held horizontally, to the distance
of sixty yards. They have likewise lances, bows, and ar-
rows; but warfare among them is now unknown.

The Aleutians shew much neatness and dexterity in their
different works. Besides the fabrication of arms and bai-
darkas, the men occupy themselves in carving diminutive
figures of terrestrial or aquatic animals from the teeth of
the sea cow, which are much harder than common ivory ;
and the women are engaged in making fine mats, little
baskets, and pocket-books of straw, particularly during the
long winter evenings. The latter are woven together with
so much regularity, and in such symmetrical figures, that
they might be supposed the work of European artists.
They also dye various ornamental substances, as straw and
leather, of fine and florid colours, with very simple mate-
rials.

Though reputed savages, the Aleutians are far from be-
ing deficient in capacity : they are mild, polite, and hospi-
table ; and, in their intercourse with Europeans, are diligent
and submissive ; but, if roused by offence or maltreatment,
they become lash and malevolent, regardless of all danger,
and even expose themselves to certain destruction.

Dancing to the tambour or drum, with an accompani-
ment of pebbles rattled in a blown bladder, is here a fa-
vourite amusement, which is free from those lascivious
gestures usually seen among barbarous tribes. Both sexes,
clothed in their best attire, with richly ornamented head-
dresses, join in the dance ; but the masks which they for-
merly wore on such occasions, are said to be laid aside. An
amusement among the young men of the island of Tanaga
consists in leaping from the skin of a large sea lion, held up
and stretched out by some of their comi)anions, from which
they spring to an astonishing height. Their love of snuff
and brandy is very strong ; and they will be content to la-
bour a whole day for a single leaf of tobacco, which they
contrive to grind to powder, adding a mixture of ashes and
water.

Many islands of the Aleutian chain had a very consider-
able population, when originally visited by^iuropeans ; but
the people, along with the animal tribes, have been conti-
nually declining. Between the years 1750 and 1760, the
inhabitants of Oonalashka were calculated at several thou-
sands; the males of the whole islands were judged not to
exceed 1100 or 1300 about the year 1790; but in 1806, their
number was supposed to be reduced to 300. Probably
there was a large preponderance of females, owing to va-
K k 2

260

FOY

FRA

rious circumstances in Iheir mode of life. Norlhern nations
arc seldom populous; and, with few exceptions, nature
seems there lo be alike hostile to animal and vegetable in-
crease. It is the oppression, however, which the Aleutians
have sufl'ercd ever since they became first acquainted with
Europeans, that has progressively diminished their num-
bers. At first, they ventured lo resist the usurpation of
tlic Russians; but Ihey were speedily subjugated, and are
now held in a state of abject slavery. I'hcir islands are
resorted to solely for the profit and convenience of their in-
vaders, to whom they pay a tribute in furs ; and they liave
admitted of permanent establishments upon^them, whicli
send out parties of hunters, who compel the attendance of
the natives. Sometimes, in the plenitude of their autho-
rity, they dispatch the hunters to distant islands, from
whence many of them never return, or carry them to the
continent of America, where the animals have hitherto had
a wider range to escape destruction. I'ormerly, on ar-
riving from Ochotzk or Kamtschatka at any of the iidia-
bited islands, the Russians were accustomed to take a few
inhabitants as hostages for tlieir security ; but now they as-
sume possession of a village as if it belonged to them-
selves; distribute their traps, to be employed by the men
in catching foxes ; select such women as please them best ;
and exercise a most despotic sway over the whole. Yet
the state of their hunters is represented as very miserable.
They are engaged by a trading company, which pays them
little regard ; they remain eight or ten years together
among the Fox Islands, suffering hardships and dangers,
and so much exposed to the ravages of the scurvy, that
not many survive to revisit their native land. See I'orster's
Voyages in the .Korih ; Coxe's Rusnian Dincoverics ; Cook's
Third Voyage, vol. ii. ; Billing's Geograjihicul and Astrono-
viical Ex-Jiedition ; Langsdorff's Voyages and Travels, (c)
FOX. Sec fluNTiNG and Mammalia.
FOYERS, Fall of, a celebrated and most beautiful ca-
taract in the Highlands of Scotland. It is is situated in
the county of Inverness, and district of Stratherrick, 19
miles south-west of Inverness, and close by the military
road from thence to Fort Augustus. It is on the river
Feaghlin, a mountain stream of considerable magnitude,
-.vhich, after a rapid course of about seven miles in a nor-
therly direction, through the rugged track of Stratherrick,
precipitates itself into Loch Ness, on the south-eastern
side, about half way betwixt the eastern and western ex-
tremities of that noble lake, at the romantic seat of IMr
Eraser of Foyers.

This cataract is about a mile from the brink of the lake,
the banks of which rise so suddenly, that the perpendicu-
lar height from its surface to the fall is not less than 300
feet. The river at the commencement of the fall becomes
narrowed, by the closing of the rocks on each bank, to lit-
tle more than seven or eight feet. It thence shoots forth
in tremendous impetuosity over a precipice of smooth,
black granitic rock, forming an uninterrupted, and almost
perpendicular water fall of 165 feet from its commence-
ment to the surface of the pool below. The chasm, or
gully, into which it descends, is of a circular form, about
50 or 60 feet diameter at the bottom ; its sides are wooded
and rugged, and formed in many parts of rock quite per-
pendicular, or nearly so, and of great extent, towering on
each side of th% river to the height of 350 feet above the
surface of the pool, that is, 100 feet above the commcnce-
iTient of the cataract.

The station where the best view is to be had of this su-
perb fall, is a projection of rock, which, on the east side of
the river, extends across it so far as to bring the spectator
directly opposite the face of the cataract. But this pro-
jecting rock is still 80 feet perpendicular above the bottom

of the full ; nor is it practicable to have a view of it from a
lower station. The upper surface of this rock is covered
with grassy turf, which, from its being incessantly bedew-
ed with spray, is ever fresh and vegetating, and has from
thence obtained the name of the Green I'oint.

When the river is swollen after rain, on the melting of
tlie snows on the southern mountains, the quantity of spray
raised is so great, that the above-mentioned station cannot
be occupied with safety ; such floods of water being thrown
upon it, as will in a moment thoroughly drench, or perhaps
sweep away the adventurous spectator. On such grand
occasions, incessant torrents are seen to flow down all sides
of the immense circular basin into which the water falls;
a strong current of air is forced up from the bottom, and
seems to agitate the water, as it pours from the rocks or
the bushes on their surface, and to raise a cloud of spray
into the atmosphere, distinctly visible at the distance of 10
or 1 5 miles, and not less in height than 600 or "00 feet.
The writer of this article has frequently, on such occa-
sions, seen a most beautiful rainbow formed by it, occupy-
ing a complete segment of the heavens, as in an ordinary
shower of rain. The inverted rainbow is also very beau-
tifully seen at the bottom ; but this fine phenomenon is ob-
servable only when there is less water in the river.

The water of this river is very strongly impregnated
with moss or peat earth, so that its colour, when descend-
ing the cataract, is pretty nearly that of porter drawn from
a cask; but no sooner does it strike the surface of the pool,
than it flashes of the most brilliant whiteness, as if it were
bursting forth into a flame, or like bluish smoke issuing
from a kindling mass of wettish straw.

It has been suggested by some, and perhaps not without
probability, that this conspicuous fall has given name to
Loch Ness : for in the Gaelic, or Erse language, ess signi-
fies a water-fall, and Loch-an-ess is the Loch of the fall.
This is to us more probable than that ness should come
from the Danish or Saxon word nese, signifying nose or
promontory, which has undoubtedly given name to many
places on the sea coast of this island. For what propriety
would there be in applying this word to Loch Ness ^. It is
not a nose or projecting promontory, like Caithness, jBu-
channcss, Fifeness, and many others.

It is worth any person's while who inspects this cascade
and its scenery, to descend to the bottom of the large gully,
about 100 yards farther down the river than the fall. He
will there see masses of rock tumbled on one another of a
size which, by viewing them from above, he had probably
little conception of, and behold nature in an aspect of wild
and indescribable magnificence, beyond what even poets
usually represent.

About half a mile farther up this river, is another very
fine waterfall, 37 feet high, nearly perpendicular, and also
uninterrupted. A bridge is thrown across the river, im-
mediately below this fall, and the height from its ledge to
the water is 60 feet. These measurements, as well as
those given of the great fall below, were taken by the
writer of this article, with all possible accuracy, by a line.
He had the opportunity of attending particularly, for seve-
ral years, to the sublime phenomena of the Fall of Foyers.

FRACTIONS. See Algebra and Arithmetic.

Fhaction, Greater (F), in IMusic, is an interval dis-
covered, and so named, by the indefatigable Mr Marma-
duke Overend : its ratio in numbers is
4,946,852,462, 1 8 1 .367.5 1 3.427,734.375 3">.5^3

— 4,95 1.760,157,141,521,099,596.496,896' 29^ '

— f + m,z: VIII -T- 612 — .1345740 X S; which last shews
the small error, in some cases, of its artificial comma 1 ;
its common logarithm — .9995793,8935,=: .001397238 x:

FRA

261

Vni,zr 0779626 X c,sr .85820144 X S, Which last is its
regular expression in our new notation. Its value in
tuneable or concordant intervals is 27 4lhs — 12 V — 13
III, by which it might, according to theory, be tuned ;
above the tenor cliff C, of 240 vib. it would 6ea< .23258 times
per 1", or 23:!- times in 100".

The value of this interval, in all the several other inter-
vals enumerated in Plate XXX. in Vol. II. may be seen
from the following simple equations, viz.

F=:d+2f

F rr s + m — f

= R + d _5S

— 3 S + m — r
m 4 S 4- m — X
= € +2f— 3ai
ZZ. c + m — <?>
:^1 lS-j-2m — (Z>
ZZ 15S-I-2 m — D

— ^ + R — ?r

:=L + f — 3!T

;i:272-i-3 m—S-

— 16S+ / -.9T
=:17S+ 2 S— lOT
= 2 t +15S — lOT

F= R — 5S
= VIII— 13 s

F= €
= €
= €

= 3©

-i€— 5S

■>:— 6S
■ f — 9 2

•^ — 42

— 6^ — P — S
ZZ 9 — 2 r— 5 S

— ^ _ 2 f— 9 S

— c — :^c— SS
ZZ c — f — lOS

— ^ _f_Il2

— X _2f— 142

— ^ _ ^_5 2
= 2^. — Of— 52
ZZ3^ — S— 5 2
Z= / — ^ — 5 2

F=Z t + d — 8c— 5 2
— t + 16S— S — 9T
ZZ t + 16S— J>— lOT
ZZ2 t+ 16S+ S — UT
ZZT+ d— 9c— 5 2
= T -I- d —10c— 52
2F= ^ —Z f — 24 2

12F=Z53c— 5712— 12f— .41m

iF=: f +IA
iFzziR — 2

,1« <;17

d=R— R

z:F+ 2f

=€— 3>j

d zr 2 -f m-

-3f

m-^2 + m-

-3>i

= 52+ F-

-R

= 32 + P-

-4:r

= 0 2+7^'-

-3^

= 6 . + R-

- t

Z= 9 c + R-

-T

ZIlOc + R-

-T

2dzr^— 7f— 24S
Jdz=iF-f

Jd=^C-

■7" J

=:^f!— 3 2— f

Z=2^€ + 22— #

Fraction, Lesser (f), is the smallest interval, except
one (m), that is known ; which was discovered, and so
nametl and marked, by the late Mr Overend ; and has
since been made the middle term of Fauey's A''otatiori
of Musical Intervals, (see that article). Its ratio iszz
450,283,905,890,997,363 33'

450,359,962,737,049,^' = F^T^' = « + ^ + » "> the new
notation by 2, f, and m. It is = Vlll-i- 612 — .85395446x2,
the latter term shewing the enor that may arise from con-
sidering the artificial comma of this interval to be 1 . lis
common log.::: .9999265,5010, ZZ .0000733,4990 x XVII,
Z: .000243663 X VIII, :^ VIII -~ .4104.029, 13.01359582
X c,:zc-^ 73. 55 1994, z:. 14966096 X 2, (which last is its
regular value in the new notation,) ZZ 2 -r- 6.681770, zZ
19.03501 X m,ZZm -i- 05253478. In tuneable intervals it
iszz2I 4ths + 2 III — 16 V, z:24 4lhs — 14 V — 2 3ds;
and above the tenor cli^C (of 240 vib.) this interval will
beat as an imperfect unison, .04054 per 1", or near 4^^
times in 100"; but neither of which, or any other known
method, except perhaps in the higher octaves, seems capa-
ble of tuning this nearly unappreciable interval.

The equations exhibiting the value of this interval, in
terms of all the others in our Table, Plate XXX. \'ot. II.
are as foHows, viz.

FnAOTiON, Medius (d), is an interval, so named and

marked by Dr J. W. Callcott (in the Overend MS. vol. ii.

. . 50,000,000,000,000,000

pp. 46 and 49), whose ratio is -— — — tttz-;; — —„-r:ii^^

^^ -" 50,031,545,098,999,707

-, = 2— 3f-f m, = Vin-i.612— .4447360 X 2, the

error, in some cases, of its nr^j^c/n:^ comma 1 ; its common

log. = .9997260,8915,= .000909912 X VIII, :^ .05077095

X c,= .5588795 X 2. '.viiich last is its regular value in our

new notation. In tuneable intervals itis:^ 18 V-f 2 VIII —

.17 VI, ZZ 17 3\ds + 3 V — 15 4ths ; and above the tenor- ~

cliff C (of 240 vib.) it beats .15 142 per 1'', or 15i beats in

100", by which it may be tuned.

Its value in all the other intervals of our Table, are
shewn by their symbols, as follows, viz.

d ZZ g> — 4 r — 2
= 0 — 4 f— 9 2

= <P— f— 3;k
Zl c — 3 f — 102
ZZ d"— 3 f— 1 1 2

= D— /e— 3 X
=z D— 2je— R

ZZ 5r — 4 1 — 14 2
ZZ 3- — / c — 3%

= ^.— ^~ R

= 2^^— S— R

= /— 2 t — 3 ;e

= Cf- ^-3x

dz: R-2r-S ZZ L— J>— 3;c

:z:R_2f-5 2 = s_ s-3;e

== R— r— X ZZ P— 4 D— 2

ZZf.— 3t— 92 ZZ P— 4^— 172

= _^_R :z: §- P-Sr,

=3€— i^ —2 r

f— i F— i d

— R— d— 5 2

ZZ r— 2

1 2r 2

3 fz:5 r— 2 ,^ c

:z:2 r—je

ZZ4 R— 5 je

=. 3 r— 2

ZZ 2+ m— d

z: 5 r— 2 R

ZZ R+ r— 7 2

= X-o

= R+ Z— 8 2

^ i X — 3

j€

= R+ Se— 9 s
ZZ R+ a^c— 10 2

f- 2 +

m— F

— <?+2 F— 24 2

ZZ 2 + 2r— i^c

ZZ 6 2 +

m— R

7f= J"— 2 d— 24 2

= R+;

2r— e

=2 ;fc+

m — <p

rz:i R— 2-is

= s+

(p—C

= R— /c

= R+

II— c

=H K-'f Jc

ZZ 2+ S— 4 tt

=3 R— Sx

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FRACTURES. See Surgery.

FRAGA, the Galica Flavia of Ptolemy, is a town of
Spain, in the kingdom of Arragon. It is situated on the
left bank of the river Cinca, which bathes its walls, and is
built between two mountains, partly on the declivity of
each. The streets are steep, narrow, and crooked, and
are wretchedly paved with sharp pebbles. Xne houses
resemble huts and ruins, and the meanness oT their ap-
pearance forms a singular contrast with the armorial bear-
ings with which their vain possessors have sought to adorn
them. A long and narrow but tolerably handsome quay
has been lately built on the bank of the river, which leads
to a handsome wooden bridge of twenty-two arches, which
opens at the end opposite to the town, into a large ftlace
adorned with stone seats, and having a tolerably thick wood

behind it. About 200 yards up the road is a convent of .
Capuchins, having an immense inclosure, and a spacious
and elegant garden. Fraga was once a fortified town, and
was defended by a castle, the ruins of wliich are still. to be
seen on the top of the mountain. All travellers are here
searched by tiic custom-house officers. Fraga is in the
diocese of Lerida. It is the residence of a vicar of the
bishop, who is charged with the ecclesiastical Jurisdiction
of the part of Arragon in this diocese. It has two alcades,
eight regidors, three gates, a convent of Grand Augus-
tines, and two parish churches, which exhibit nothing
worthy of notice. Population 3000. East Long. 0° 17',
North Lat. 41° 27'. See Laborde's View of Sfiain, vol. ii.
p. 246. (to)

FRAMING OF TiMnEU. From our Treatise on Car-
pentry we have made a reference to the present head for
an account of the principles of Framing ; but having been
disappointed in receiving the article, we must refer the
reader to the article Roof. See also Joining.

FRANC AIS, Port de, is the name of a bay or harbour
on the north-west coast of America, situated in North Lat.
58° 37', and West Long. 142° 10'. The variation of the
compass was found by La Peyrouse to be 28° E., and the
dip 74°. An account of the manners of the natives, and
other particulars, will be found in La Peyrouse's Voyage,
vol. i. (jiu)

FRANCA Villa, is the name of a town of Italy, in the
kingdom of Naples, and province of Otranto. It had its
origin in a colony established in 1310, by Philip of Anjou,
prince of Taranto. The town is large and well built,
the houses are splendid, and the streets straight and spa-
cious. The mansion of the prince of Taranto is a quad-
rangular castle, encircled with a dry ditch. Since the
year 1734, when a part of the town was destroyed by an
earthquake, the houses have not been built higher than
one story above the ground floor. The principal trade of
the place consists in oil, cotton, and tobacco. Population
12,000. (to)

FRANCE.

Ancient Gaul comprehended the whole country be-
tween the Pyrenees, the Alps, the Rhine, and the Ocean ;
it was therefore of greater extent than modern France, as
it existed previously to the Revolution; for to the dominions
of that kingdom must be added, to form an accurate and
complete estimate of the size of ancient Gaul, the duchy
of Savoy, the cantons of Switzerland, the four electorates
of the Rhine, and the territories of Liege, Luxemburgh,
Hainault, Flanders, and Brabant. Gaul was added to the
dominions of the Roman empire, principally by the valour
and talents of Julius Caesar; but it was not divided as a
portion of that empire, till the reign of Augustus. This
monarch introduced a division equally adapted to the
course of the rivers, the progress of the legions, and the
most prominent national distinctions, which had compre-
hended above 100 independent states. The colony of Nar-
bonnc gave its name to the sea coast of the Mediterranean,
Languedoc, Provence, and Driuphine ; the government of
Aquitaine extended from the Pyrenees to the Loire ; the
celebrated colony of Lugdunum or Lyons bestowed its ap-
pellation on the country between the Loire and the Seine,
which, however, was originally denominated Celtic Gaul.
Beyond the Seine the Belgic division lay : this portion of
Gaul, in more ancient times, had been bounded only by the
Rhine ; but a short time before the conquest of Gaul by
Julius Caesar, the Germans being superior to the Gauls in

number and valour, and like all savage nations, and too
many modern ones, regarding this as a sufficient reason for
attacking their less powerful neighbours, had seized on a
considerable part of the Belgic territory. The Romans
gave to this portion the names of Upper and Lower Ger-
many, for no other reason but because it was inhabited by
people who had passed into Gaul from Germany. From
this sketch of ancient Gaul, as compared with modern
France, it will be seen, that the latter comprehends the
whole of the Narbonnese, Aquitaine and Celtic, or Lyonese
divisions of the former, and part of the divisions which
were called the Belgic and the two Germanies.

The modern name of France is derived from the Franks.
About the year 240, a confederacy was formed under the
name of Frajiku, by the inhabitants of the lower Rhine and
the JVeser, w no, in the time of Tacitus, passed under the
appellations of Chauciy CAerusci, Catii, &c. The first, in
their inaccesible morasses, had long defied the Roman
nrms; the C/ierusci were proud of the fame of Arminius;
and the Calti were formidable, on account of tlieir firm and
intrepid infantry. In the reign of Gallienus, they threat-
ened Gaul ; but at this time their ravages took another di-
rection, and Spain and Africa trembled at their presence.
For a great number of years afterwards we lose sight of
the Franks, but when the throne of Valentinian was pow-
erfully assaulted by Attila, they gained possession of part

FRANCE.

263

of Gaul, a small village between Louvain and Brussels,
having been the residence of Clodion, the first of their
kings mentioned in authentic history. Even before this
conquest, they liad established the right of hereditary suc-
cession in the noble family of the Merovingians. The
symbol of military command was a buckler, on whicli the
princes of this race were elevated : and the royal fashion
of long hair was the exclusive mai k of their birth and dig-
nity ; while the rest of the nation were obliged, either by
law or custom, to shave the hinder part of the head, to
comb the hair over the forehead, and to content themselves
with two small whiskers. The Franks were distinguished
from the inhabitants of the country in which tliey had now
fixed themselves, by their lofty stature, and blue eyes; by
their close apparel; their weighty sword suspended from a
broad belt; a large shield; and their expertness in running,
leaping, swimming, and darting the javelin or battle-axe
with unerring aim.

Of the particular circumstances attending the extension
of the conquests of the Franks, little is known : their re-
gular and connected history begins with Clovls, in the year
481. This monarch achieved the conquest of Gaul, by
the defeat of the Roman governor ; and by his marriage
with Clotilda, added Burgundy, of which her father was
sovereign, to his dominions. Clotilda converted her hus-
band to Christianity, and the conversion of his subjects
followed. Clovis conquered Aquitaine, but retained it but
a short time ; he died in 5 1 1 . In the last year of his reign,
he reformed and published the Salic laws; a few lines of
these, which debarred women from inheriting what were
called the Salic lands, have been applied as precluding
females from the succession to the French throne.

The successors of Clovis were in general weak and
wicked, till, on the death of Dagobert II. 638, who left two
infant sons, the sovereignty was taken from them by the
mayors of the palace, who were the first officers of the
loyal household. This office, from a personal dignity, Ije-
came hereditary in the family of Pepin Heristel. His son,
Charles Martel, succeeded to the power of his father,
though he still retained the name of mayor of the palace.
He delivered France from the ravages of the Saracens,
by a dreadful battle, in which they were utterly defeated;
fought between Tours and Poictiers, A.D. 732. His grand-
son, Pepin le Bref, removing from the throne the Mero-
vingian race, assumed, by the authority of a papal decree,
the title of king, and reigned for seventeen years with dignity
and success ; the founder of the second race of the French
monarchs, known by the name of the Carlovingian race.
In his time, the monarchy of the Franks was divided into
two large districts, Austrisia and Neustria. On his death-
bed, he called a council of his grandees, and with their con-
sent, divided his dominions between his two sons, Charles
and Carloman.

Carloman dying a few years after his father, Charles suc-
ceeded to Ihe undivided sovereignty. This monarch, so
honouriibly known in history by the name of Charlemagne,
reigned 45 years, during which period he extended the
limits of his empire beyond the Danube ; subdued Dal-
iTiatia, Istria, and Dacia, all the barbarous tribes to the
banks of the Vistula, made himself master of a large part
of Italy, and attacked the Saxons, Saracens, Bulgarians
and Huns with success. The Pope first crowned him King
of France and the Lombards, and afterwards Emperor of
the West. He had no fixed capital, and even in his lifetime
he divided his dominions among his children: he died
A. D. 814, in the seventy-second year of his age.

In the time of Pepin le Bref, the system of annual par-
liaments, held first in March, and afterwards in May, had
been established or restored. Charlemagne ordered these

assemblies to be held twice a year, in spring and autumn.
The business of the first assembly was to prepare and di-
gest what the second was to enact into laws. Of this as-
sembly he constituted the people a part, so that it consisted
of three estates. The sovereign never was present, unless
to ratify its decrees. In this reign also, the kingdom was
divided into provinces and districts ; the latter were under
the superintendance of loyal envoys, chosen from the no-
bles and clergy, who were bound to visit their territories
every three months, and to make their reports to the sove-
reign at tiie general assembly.

Of all Charlemagne's lawful sons, only Louis le Dc-
bonnaire survived him, who was consecrated Emporer and
King of the Franks, at Aix la Cliapelle, A. D. 8 1 6. Having
very imprudently divided his territories, very soon after his
succession, among his sons, they made open war against
him, and he was compelled to surrender himself a prisoner
to his rebellious children. His spirits were thus brokcDi
his health decayed, and he terminated an inglorious and tur-
bulent reign, A. D. 840.

Lotharius, his eldest son, was now emperor ; but the
quarrels among the brothers, which had begun even in
their father's lifetime, still continued, Lotharius, in con-
junction with Pepin his brother's son, took up arms against
the two other sons of Louis, Charles the Bald, a son by a
second marriage, to whom Aquitaine had been given, and
Louis, who had received Bavaria from his father. A
dreadful battle was fought at Fontenay, in which Lotha-
rius was defeated. A council of Bishops was immediately
held; Lotharius was deposed, and his conquerors were
permitted to reign by the cleigy, on the condition of im-
plicit obedience to spiritual authority. Lotharius, however,
contrived to accommodate matters with his brothers in
such a manner, that they agreed to a new division of the
empire. By this division, A. D. 843, the western part of
France, called Neustria and Aquitaine, vvas assigned to
Charles the Bald. Lotharius retained the title of Emperor,
with the nominal sovereignty of Italy, and the real pos-
session of Lorraine, Franche Compte, Provence, and the
Lyonnois ; while the kingdom of Germany was allotted to
Louis.

On the death of Lotharius, Charles the Bald assumed
the empire, having purchased it from the Pope, on condi-
tion of holding it from the holy sec. This prince was the
first of the French monarchs who made dignitaries and
honours hereditary : he died by poison, after a weak and
inglorious reign, A. D. 877. During his reign, the Nor-
mans, who had first made their appearance in France in
843, sailed up the Seine, and burned Paris.

Charles the Bald was succeeded by his son Louis the
Stammerer, who after reigning only about two years, died
in 879, leaving his queen Adelaide pregnant. He was
succeeded by Louis HI., and Carloman II. his two sons by
a former marriage. On the death of these princes, in 884,
the Emperor Charles the Fat, son of Louis the German,
was elected king of France. He disgraced himself, by
ceding Friesland to the Normans ; but this cession was not
only disgraceful, but impolitic, for it served only as a fresh
incentive to depredation. Paris was attacked a second
time, but gallantly defended by Count Eudcs and Bishop
Goslin. A truce was concluded, but the Normans, after
leaving Paris, besieged Sens and plundered Burgundy.
During these transactions, Charles was deposed by an as-
sembly of the states, who conferred the crown on Eudes.
His title to the throne, however, was never acknowledged
by a great part of the states of France, who, on the con-
trary, gave their allegiance to Charles the Simple, son of
Louis the Stammerer, by Adelaide. During a reign of ten
years, Eudes manfully withstood the Normans.

264

FRANCE.

APtci- the death of Eudes, in 898, Charles succeeded to
the iliionc of France ; but his reign was by no means
tranquil, the nobles aspiring openly at independency, and
depressing the great body of the people. In the midst of
these internal disorders, the Normans gained a pcrniunent
footing in France; RoUa the Norman, in 912, conripelling
the king to yield him a large portion of the territory of
Neustria, and to give him his daughter in marriage. The
new kingdom was called Normandy, of wliich Rouen was
the capital. In the same year, the empire of Germany
vas separated from France, by the death of Louis IV. son
of the Emperor Arnold. Charles the Simple, being equally
contemptible to the French and the Normans, was deposed
in 922, and Robert, Duke of France, brother to Eudes,
proclaimed king. Robert, however, was soon afterwards
killed in battle, llis son, Hugh the Great, instead of as-
suming tlie sovereignly, placed the crown on the head of
Rodolph, Duke of Burgundy, who assumed the title of
king, and was almost universally acknowledged. In this
extremity, Charles endeavoured to gain the assistance of
the Duke of Normandy ai/J the Emperor of Germany;
hut being betrayed, and tiirown into prison by the court of
Vermandois, he died there in 929.

After his death, Rodolph, being now indisputed master
of France, acted with great decision and vigour. He re-
pelled the incursions of some new tribes of Normans, re-
strained the licentiousness of the nobles, and restored tran-
quillity to his kingdom. He died without issue, in 936. An
interregnum ensued, and France was again involved in
troubles. At last Hugh the Great, still unambitious of
sovereignty himself, recalled Louis the son of Charles, who
had taken refuge in England : from this circumstance he
■was surnamed the Stranger.

When Louis was called to the throne he was only 1 7
years old, and was little acquainted with the affairs of
France, or the manners of the people. Notwithstanding
these disadvantages, he conducted himself with consider-
able propriety, though with a portion of spirit rather cre-
ditable than useful to him; for, not liking the tyranny of
Hugh, who had been appointed his tutor, he made a fruit-
less attempt to rescue himself from this bondage; but,
after a variety of struggles, he was compelled to make
peace with his vassal, and to confirm to him the county of
Laon, which comprehended almost the whole of the royal
domain.

Louis the Stranger died in 954, and left to his son Lo-
thario only a shadow of royalty ; for, though Hugh the
Great died in 955, he was succeeded in consequence, abili-
ties, and influence, by his son Hugh Capet, soon destined
to be on the throne of France. Lothario died in 985, and
•was quietly succeeded by his son Louis V., who governed
imder the direction of Hugh Capet, during a short reign
of one year and two months. In him ended the Caiiovin-
gian race of kings, A. D. 987.

Hugh Capet being the most powerful nobleman in France,
seized the crown on the death of Louis V. ; and, as he pos-
sessed the dukedom of France, which extended as far as
Touraine, and was also count of Paris, and in possession of
large territories in Picardy and Champaigne, while the
royal domain was reduced to the cities of Laon and Soissons,
he in fact brought more strength to the crown than he de-
rived from it. Though the right of succession belonged
to Charles, Duke of Lorraine, uncle to Louis V., yet Hugh
Capet, by his power, and by securing the favour of the
clergy, was acknowledged in an assembly of the nobles,
and was afterwards anointed at Rheims. In order to esta-
blish the throne in his family during his lifetime, he asso-
ciated his son Robert in the governrnent of the kingdom,
and prudently vested liim with those insignia of royalty

which he denied himself, lest he should displease those
who had been very lately his equals. The Duke of Lor-
raine did not give up his right to the crown of France with-
out a struggle ; but, being defeated, he was made prisoner
by Hugh Capet. In 995 this monarch died, and was qui-
etly succeeded by his son Robert. This prince had mar-
ried liertha, his cousin in the fourth degree ; but though
this marriage had been authorised by the bishops. Pope
Gregory V. undertook to dissolve it, under the pretence
that it was within the forbidden degrees of consanguinity.
Robert, however, persisted in keeping his wife, and was on
this account excommunicated. Such was the cfTect of the
excommunication, that he was abandoned by all his cour-
tiers and his servants, except two, who threw to the dogs
all the victuals their master left, and purified by fire the
vessels in which he had been served. The king, alarmed
either at his spiritual punishment, or at the commencing
commotions in his kingdom, at last divorced his wife, and
married Constance, daughter to the Count of Aries. The
last years of his reign were rendered very unfortunate by
the disorders of his family. His eldest son Hugh, whom
he had associated in the sovereignty, was dead ; and Con-
stance, who was an imperious termagant, wished to place
her younger son Robert on the throne ; but the king, by
the advice of his parliament, confirmed the succession of
Henry, his eldest surviving son. In the midst of these
disorders the king died, in A. D. 1031, and was succeeded
by Henry I.

Henry was 27 years old when he ascended the throne.
He combined the activity and spirit of a young man with a
sagacity and prudence far beyond his years ; and he had
need of all his cjualities ; for his mother Constance endea-
voured to dethrone him, having drawn to her party a num-
ber of the nobles and bishops, under the pretext of sup-
porting the rights of her son Robert. Henry resisted for
some time, but at length was obliged to take refuge with
Robert, Duke of Normandy, who received him most kind-
ly, and sent an army of Normans into I'rance, while the
king and royal party invaded it on another side. The queen
was thus humbled, and Henry recovered his power, but at
the expence of part of his dominions, which, out of grati-
tude, he made over to the Duke of Normandy.

Soon after Henry was restored, the Duke of Normandy
made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem ; and, dying before his re-
turn, there was a dispute concerning the succession to his
dominions. His natural son William had been recognised
by the nobles, before the departure of Robert ; and his
guardianship was entrusted to the King of I'rance and the
Duke of Bretagne. As soon as the death of Robert was
known, the Norman nobles broke out into peisonal quar-
rels, which the Duke of Bretagne in vain endeavoured to
appease. Under these circumstances, the King of France
had an excellent opportunity of displaying his gratitude for
the favours which he had received from Robert ; but he
seemed rather willing to deprive his infant son of his inhe-
ritance, by invading Normandy. Not finding, however, the
conquest so easy as he expected, he reassumed the appear-
ance of friendship and generosity, united his forces with
those of the young Duke, and the malcontents were totally
routed in the battle of Val de Dunes, A. D. 1045.

In 1060, Henry I. was succeeded by his son Philip I.;
and about six years afterwards, William, Duke of Nor-
mandy, successfully invaded England. Philip was only
eight years old when his father died, and remained under
the guardianship of Baldwin V., surnamed the Pious, Count
of Flanders, a man of strict honour and integrity, till the
year 1067, when Baldwin died, having, just before his death,
concluded an offensive and defensive alliance betv.'een the
crowns of Scotland and France.

FRANCE.

265

Philip incurred the excoiTimunical.ion of Urban II. by
his marrying Bertrand de Montfort, Duchess of Anjou,
while her husband and his queen were both alive ; nor was
the excommunication taken off till the death of the Pope
and the Queen in 1097. Philip, however, though relieved
from his domestic troubles, was exposed to the rapacious
power of his nobles, who insulted him constantly, and cut
off entirely the communication between Paris and Orleans.
In order to remedy these evils, Philip associated with him
his son Louis. This prince was active, vigorous, generous,
affable, and free from most youthful vices. He soon per-
ceived the full extent and tlie exact nature of the dangers
which surrounded him, and that nothing could be accom-
plished by force. He therefore kept continually in the field
with a small body of troops about him, whom he employed
against such nobles as would not listen to the dictates of jus-
tice and equity ; he demolished their castles, and laid waste
their grournl ; and by these measures, and by compelling
them to render restitution to those whom they had pillaged,
he restored order to the state, preserved the monarchy
from subversion, and gained the affections of the virtuous
part of the nobility, and the reverence of the people.

In 1 lOS, when he was 30 years old, he succeeded his fa-
ther. From his great size in the latter part of his life, he
■was called Louis the Gross. Soon after his coronation, he
engaged in a war with Henry I. of England, the particulars
of which will be found in our history of that kingdom. Af-
ter the peace between these monarchs, which took place
A. D. 1128, Louis devoted himself to the regulation of the
internal management of his kingdom. He re-established
the commons, or third estate, which had long ceased to ex-
ercise its privileges ; he enfranchised the villains, or bonds-
men ; diminished the authority of the seignorial jurisdic-
tions, and sent commissaries into the provinces to receive
complaints, redress wrongs, and encourage appeals to the
royal judges. In the midst of these wise regulations, his
excessive corpulency brought on a disorder which termi-
nated in his death, in the 60th year of his age, and 30th of
his reign, A. D. 1 137.

Louis VII., surnamed the Young, to distinguish him
from his father, was 18 years of age when he ascended the
throne. He was of a devout turn of mind, good-natured,
and easy in his temper; but jealous of his honour and of
his rights. The chapter of Kourges having chosen an
archbishop disagreeable to the court, he ordered them to
choose another ; but the chapter was supported by Pope
Innocent II., who insulted the king, by calling him a young
man, whom it was necessary to instruct that he had no right
to interfere in the afl'airs of the church. Louis, however,
remained firm ; and his kingdom was placed under an in-
terdict. Thibaut, Count of Champagne, had declared him-
self for the archbishop confirmed by the Pope, and thus
pjave rise to a civil war. Louis made himself master of
Champagne, and set fire to the church of Vitry, into which
the inhabitants of that town had fled for refuge. The effect
of this was strongly impressed on the king's mind, not only
on account of the number of lives which were lost, but also
on the sacrilege which he had committed ; and he made a
vow to visit tl.e Holy Land, in order to expiate liis crime.
To this project he was further incited by Bernard, abbot of
Clairvaux, who had been selected by Pope Eugenius III.
to preach a crusade. In the market place of \''ezelar in
Burgundy, Louis was seen by the side of Bernard, second-
ing the exhortations of that monk for the nobles and pea-
santry to take the cross, both by his harangues and his ex-
ample. In vain did Stiger, abliot of St Denis, a man of
sound sense, and wonderfully fiee from the mad enthusi-
astri of the age, endeavour to dissuade Louis fiom this en-
terprise. He foretold the inconveniences that would re-

VoL. IX. Pakt I.

suit from it, and the danger to which tlie king would be
exposed ; but Bernard, on the other hand, made himself
answerable for its success, and extolled it with an enthusi-
asm that passed for inspiration. Before his departure, how-
ever, the king had the good sense to name Sei^ger ministei
to the regent, whom he left in charge of the kingdom.

Such was the rage for the crusade in France anrl (ier-
many, at this period, that Louis reckoned in his arniy 70,000
men in complete armour, with a very great number of ligr.r
horse, besides infantry; but this force, though doubled by
what the Em])eror of Germany brought along with him,
was rendered of little or no benefit to the cause in which
they were engaged, by its very numbers, and by the total
want of order and discipline. The Emperor of Germany
fell into a snare set for him by the Sultan of Iconium ; and
the same misfortune soon afterwards beful Louis. He met
likewise with another calamity still more grievous, and
which gave him more uneasiness than the loss of his army ;
for his queen Eleanor, whose affection and zeal led her to
embrace the cross, and accompany him into Asia, was sus-
pected of an amour with the prince of Antioch. His mar-
riage with her had been entered into contrary to the advice
of Seiger ; and, after the death of that minister, Louis, con-
vinced of the soundness of his opinion by the conduct ol
his wife, divorced her, and restored to her the provinces oi
Guienne and Poitou, which he had received with her in
marriage. Eleanor, soon after her divorce, married Henry
Plantagenet, Duke of Normandy, who, the following year,
became King of England, under the name of Henry II.
The remainder of Louis's reign presents nothing worthy
of notice. He frequently quarrelled with Henry II. of Eng-
land ; but their quarrels were soon made up. In 1179, he
made his son Philip, who was then 14 years old, be crown-
ed at Rheims ; and the following year he died of a para!)
tic stroke, at the age of 60.

Philip II., who was afterwards surnamed Augustus, oi;
account of his exploits, had as his guardian the Count of
Flanders. He signalized the commencement of his reign
by confiscating the property of the Jews in France, and ba-
nishing them from the kingdom. He next turned his at-
tention to the improvement of Paris, which he enlarged and
paved. It was soon apparent, tliat Philip was by no means
disposed to suffer his authority to be trampled upon or
curtailed, even by the clergy; for, on an emergency, find-
ing it necessary to raise some troops, he demanded a sub-
sidy from the clergy of Rheims ; they refused the subsidv,
but offered their prayers for his success. Soon afterwards,
their territories were laid waste by some of the neighliour-
ing nobles, and they applied to the king for succour ; but
his reply was, that he would use his intreaties to these no-
bles to respect the territory of the church. He did so, but
they continued their ravages ; and at length the clergy
found themselves under the necessity of complying with
the demand of the king, in order that they might obtain his
assistance against their invaders. Philip next turned his
attention to the extirpation of the brigands, who, under the
name of Foluriei-s, infested France, setting at nought both
the civil and ecclesiastical power. In one battle he destroy-
ed 7000 of them.

The quarrels which had existed between Philip's father
and the king of England still existed ; Philip encouraging
Henry's sons in their nnduliful behaviour towards their fa-
ther. But the quan-els being in some dceree quieted, by
the death of Henry's two most rebellious sons, tlie monarchs
assumed the cross, and prepared for the Holy Land. Thjs
enterprise, however, was surrounded with great obstacles.
Philip, stiil jealous of heresy, entered into a private confe-
deracy with Hirliard, now heir apparent to the throne of
England, and Henry found himself obJiged, at an advanced

266

FRANCE.

age, to deiend liis dominions ag;unst France and liis own
son. Being unsuccessful, he engaged to pay Philip a com-
pensation for the charges of tlie war. Notwithstanding
this success, however, Philip felt himself rerlieved by the
death of Henry, which took place A. D. 1189. The pro-
ject of a holy war was again entertained. Both Philip and
Richard King of England partook of the superstitious pre-
judices and zeal of the age, and they both were also eager
after military glory. Thus they trxpected to satisfy both
their religious and their military feelings, by an expedition
to the Holy Land. As, however, former attempts had been
so unsuccessful, it was necessary to try another road ; and
they accordingly resolved to conduct their armies by sea,
to carry their provisions along with them, and by means of
their naval power, to preserve an open and regular commu-
nication with their own states, and with the western parts
of Europe. On the plains of Fezelai, in Burgundy, the
jnonarchs assembled their armies, which amounted to
100,000 men. After renewing their oaths of friendship,
and pledging their faith not to invade each other's domi-
nions during the crusade, they separated, Philip taking the
road to Genoa, Richard that to Marseilles. From these
parts, they both put to sea; and both were compelled by
a storm to take shelter in Messina, where they were de-
tained the whole of the winter, A. D. 1190-1191. The
siege and capture of Acre was the sole fruit of this im-
mense expedition. Philip fell sick, and returned to France.
Richard remained some time afterwards; and on his re-
turn, having been made prisoner in Germany, the French
king, forgetful of his oath, endeavoured to profit by the ab-
sence of Richard, and cnlei-ed into a treaty with John, his
perfidious brother. As soon as Richard recovered his free-
dom, he turned his thoughts towards vengeance on Philip.
But the latter gained several advantages over his oppo-
nent ; and these two princes continued to harass each other,
till the death of Richard, A. D. 1 199. John, who succeed-
ed to the throne of England, having refused to appear as a
vassal of France, to answer for the death of Arthur of Bre-
tagne, all his territories (hat were situated in that kingdom
Mere confiscated by Philip, who took possession of Nor-
mandy, ar.d united it to his crown. Touraine, Anjou, and
Maine, were also wrested from John ; so that nothing ix;-
mained to him in France butGuicnne.

In 1213, Philip was chosen by the Pope to carry into
execution the sentence of excommunication pronounced
against John ; and as a reward, he was to receive the re-
mission of all his sins, endless spiritual benefits, and the
kingdom of England. Philip accordingly levied a great
army, and prepared for the invasion of England. Nor
was John idle or unprepared. But while Europe was in
expectation of a dreadful contest, the Pope persuaded John
to hold his dominions as a feudatory territory of the Church
of Rome. Philip was enraged at being thus duped : his
fleet put to sea, but it was utterly destroyed by that of
England ; and John was strengthened by an alliance with
the Emperor Otho IV. At Rouvenis, a small village be-
tween Lisle and Tournay, the Emperor's army, amounting
to upwards of 50,000 men, was met by that of Philip, which
was rather inferior. A dreadful battle was fought ; the
Emperor and his allies were routed, and 30,000 Germims
are said to have been slain. After this victory, Philip en-
lered Paris in triumph ; the Counts of Flanders and Bou-
logne, his prisoners, gracing the car of the conqueror.

In 1215, the Barons of England, dreading the total loss
of their liberties, their possessions, and their lives, in con-
sequence of the proceedings of John, ofi'ercd the crown to
J_.ouis, the eldest son of Philip. Louis accepted the ofler ;
landed in England ; but disgusted the people by his par-
tiality to his own counttymcn, so that, on the death of John,

and the Barons agreeing to acknowledge the authority of
his son Henry III. Louis was obliged to return to France.
Soon after t.is return in 1223, Piiilip died, leaving the
kingdom of France twice as large as he had received it.

Louis \"II1. reigned but about three years, the greatest
part of which was chiefly spent in a crusade against the
Albigenses. He was succeeded, A. D. 1226, by his son
Louis IX. commonly called Saint Louis, then only 12 years
of age. Blanche of Castile, the Queen-mother, had been
appointed regent ; and during the minority of her son, she
repressed the ambition of the powerful and turbulent ba-
rons, by her prudence and firmness. As Louis advanced
to manhood, his singular character developed itself. He
was infected with a mean and abject supeistition, yet en-
dowed with a large portion of courage and magnanimity.
His justice and integrity was conspicuous; and where su-
perstition did not turn him aside from the bent of his natu-
ral inclination, he was mild and humane. Bui the barba-
rous devotion of the times led him often astray. He fa-
voured the tribunal of the Inquisition, persecuted heretics,
and considered a war against the Infidels as the most me-
ritorious action he could perform. This turn of mind was
strengthened by a dangerous illness with which he was at-
tacked ; for his heated imagination made him fancy that he
heard a voice from heaven, commanding him to shed the
blood of Infidels. Accordingly, he made a vow to take
the cross, and spent four years in preparing for his expe-
dition. He entrusted the government of the kingdom to
the care of his mother; and at last, every thing being ar-
ranged A. D. 1248, he sailed for Cyprus, accompanied by
his queen, his three brothers, and almost all the knights of
France. From this island, he proceeded to Egypt, instead
of going directly to the Holy Land ; and, in 1249, he land-
ed with his army near the city of Damiutta. Soon after-
wards, having received a reinforcement from France, his
army amounted to 60,000 men. But this expedition was
as unfortunate as those which had preceded it. Nearly
half the French troops fell a jirey to sickness and debauche-
ry. The rest were defeated by the Sultan of Egypt at
Massoura, where Louis, two of his brothers, and alibis
nobility, were taken prisoners ; his third brother having
been killed by his side. The Queen of France had been
left in Damietta ; this place was besieged, but it made a
gallant defence, till a treaty was concluded with the Sultan,
by which it was given up in consideration of the king's li-
berty ; and a large sum paid for the ransom of the other
prisoners. Louis, notwithstanding all chance of success
had long been at an end, was still so bent on fulfilling his
vow, that he set out for Palestine, where he remained four
years, without being able to accomplish any thuig. In the
mean time, the affairs of Fiance were in the greatest dis-
order, in consequence of a monk having collected upwards
of 100,000 men, under the pretence of leading them to the
assistance of their sovereign- This multitude robbed and
pillaged wherever they came ; nor were they dispersed
without considerable difficulty. In 125S, the Queen-mo-
ther having died, Louis returned to France, where he re-
paired the evils occasioned by his absence, and atoned for
the folly of his crusade, by his zeal for justice, his wise
laws, and his virtuous example. He established, on a more
solid basis than before, the right of appeal to the royal
judges; prohibited private wars; substituted juridical
proofs, instead of those by duel ; and rescued France from
the exactions of Rome. In his transactions with other so-
vereigns, he was also highly praise-worthy, and consulted
the real interests of his own kingdom, while he behaved
with justice and moderation towards them. He ceded
Rousillon and Catalonia to the Ring of Arragon, in ex-
change for the claims of that monarch to some fiefs in Pro-

FRANCE.

26^

Vcncc iii Langucdoc, and persuaded the King of England
to renounce all claim to Normandy, Maine, and other for-
Icitcd provinces, by restoring to him Qucrci, I'erigord, and
Ihc Limosin. Such \vas his moderation, that he was chosen,
A. D. 1264, arbiter between the King of England and his
barons; and his sentence, though rejected by Liecester
and his party, was undoubtedly that of justice as well as
ivisdom. In one instance he was deserted by his love of
justice. He permitted a crusade to be preached in France
against the King of Sicily, in behalf of his brother, who
had no right to that throne. Soon after this, A. D. 12"0,
he prepared for another holy war. His object was now
the conquest of Tunis, or the violent conversion of its so-
vereign to Christianity. The Infidel rejected the alterna-
tive : but the French army, soon after its landing, -was
seized with an epidemic distemper, of which Louis himself,
and one of his sons, as well as numbers of his troops, were
the victims, A. D. 1271.

Philip III. surnamed the Hardy, succeeded to the throne
■when he was 25 years old. Had it not been for the assis-
tance afforded him by his uncle, Charles of Anjou, he
would have found it impossible to have extricated himself
and the remains of his army from the Infidels ; but he hav-
ing defeated them, concluded a peace for his nephew, on
the favourable conditions that the King of Tunis should
pay him a large sum of money; Charles himself the an-
cient tribute due to him as King of Sicily ; that the Chris-
tians in Tunis should enjoy the full exercise of their reli-
gion ; and that the prisoners on each side should be ex-
changed. Little of moment occurred after Philip's re-
turn to France. In 1274, he declared war against Alphon-
so of Castile, on the subject of the succession to that crown ;
but the war soon terminated without producing any event
of consequence. Philip's character led him frequently to
engage in enterprises with great alacrity and zeal ; but he
had not sufficient firmness to persevere in them. He was
much under the influence of the Pope ; and to him the pa-
pal government was indebted for the Venaissin, which they
retained till the Revolution.

Philip naturally took great interest in the affairs of his
uncle, Charles Duke of Anjoii, King of Sicily. And this
leads us to notice the Sicilian Vespers. The inhabitants
of Sicily, when Charles governed with more strictness
than policy, resolved to rid themselves entirely of the
French. They were farther excited to revolt by Peter
III. King of Arragon, who laid claim to the throne of Si-
cily, and promised the Sicilians his assistance to expel the
French. On the evening of Easter day, A. D. 12S2, the
massacre began. Not a Frenchman was spared. Peter
arrived; was crowned at Palermo, and Charles was com-
■ lelled to abandon the island. The Pope, however, em-
braced the side of the latter, excommunicated Peter, and
gave his kingdom to Charles the second son of Philip,
'riie King of France immediately prepared to establish
his son on his new throne by force of arms ; but he was
not successful, and in 1285, as he was returning from this
expedition, he died at Perpignan. Letters of nobility were
first used in France during this reign. They were grant-
ed to Raoul, a goldsmith. This, however, was only a res-
toration of the old custom of the Franks, who were all
esteemed equally noble. A distinct and privileged Eobili-
ly first arose at the close of the second race of kings.

Philip was succeeded by his son Philip IV. surnamed
fhe Fair. The first object of this monarch was to com-
jiose all differences with his neiglibours. To this step
he was led by the derangement of his finances. Although
in thus settling his differences, he was much indebted to
Edward I. of England, yet he ungratefully, as well as im-
polilically, soon afterwards engaged in hostilities with him ;

and he also rashly attempted (o gaiji posscs-iion of Flan-
ders, which had joined England. But in this enterprise
ho was unsuccessful ; though it cost him much blood and
treasure. These events, however, were of trifling mo-
ment, compared to the quarrel between him and the Pope
IJoniface VIII. a man ol a turbulent disposilion, arrogant,
and overbearing. He had prohibited the clergy from
granting any aids. But Philip, being equally determined
to support his own power, and being moreover very poor,
resolved that the clergy in F' ranee should contribute, equal-
ly with his other subjects, to the exigencies of the state ;
and he resolved not only on this, but also forbade tlicm to
send money abroad without his permission. This gave
rise to the quarrel between Boniface and the king. The
former was by no means disposed lo yield ; on the contra-
ry, he appointed as his legate to the court of France, Ber-
nard Saissette, who had rebelled agauist the king, and
who on this, as well as on account of his disposition, Boni-
face must have known would be particularly obnoxious lo
him. Tills legate fully acted up to the orders of his mas-
ter; he braved Philip at his own court, and threatened
him with an interdict. Philip was so much under the in-
fluence of superstition, or so afraid of the impression it
might make on his subjects, that he did not bring the le-
gate to trial, but contented himself with delivering him
into the hand of his metropolitan. On this the Pope, en-
raged, issued a bull, declaring " that the Vicar of Christ
is vested with full authority over the kings and kingdoms
of the earth ; and at the same time, the French clergy were
ordered to repair to Rome. Piiilip commanded the bull
to be committed to the flames, and the bishops not to leave
France ; and he seized the possessions of those who did
leave it. In this st&te of things, he had recourse to a most
politic measure. He assembled the slates of the kingdom,
and they disavovved the claim of the Pope, and recognised
him as an independent sovereign in his own kingdom.
Having proceeded tlius far, Philip resolved to wage open
war against Boniface ; but the Pope was not intimidated.
He displayed great coolness and courage. Having been
insulted, however, in his own territories, by a band of des-
peradoes hired at the insiigation of Philip, he was so much
affected that he died in a few days. Benedict XI. his suc-
cessor, a mild and good inan, took the interdict off Philip;
but this Pope was too good and wise for the age in which
he lived. He was taken oB" by poison A. D. 1305 ; and
his successor Clement V. being a Frenchman, and entire-
ly in the interest of France, fixed his residence in that
kingdom. Philip being now at peace, turned his attention
to the internal affairs of his kingdom. Supreme tribunals,
called Parliaments, were instituted, and the commons, or
third estate, were formally admitted into the assemblies of
the nation. So far his measures were wise and popular;
but, in what regarded the finances, they were of an oppo-
site character. The royal treasury was exhausted ; and,
to remedy this evil, the nominal value of money was raised.
The dilapidation of his finances led the king also to adopt
another measure still more unjust. The Knights Tem-
plars, a religious and military order, had acquired large
possessions in almost every part of Europe, but especially
in France. In consequence of the severity of the taxes
which Philip levied, a sedition arose in Paris; the Knights
Templars were accused of having fomented it; orders were
issued that they should all be committed to prison in one
day; absurd and enormous crimes were imputed to them.
They were put to the rack; confession extorted, or forged
confessions imputed to such as were firm; and at last
Philip succeeded in destroying most of them, and in ob-
taining possession of their riches. Soon after this disgrace-
ful proceeding, A. D. 1314, Philip again unsuccessfully
LI 2

268

FRANCE.

attempted to unite Flanders to the crown of France ; and
hib tieatli is supposed to have been in u great measure oc-
casioned by his lailure.

He was succeeded by his son Louis X. s\irnamed Hu-
ten, who was scarcely seated on Jiis throne >vlien lie or-
dered his prime minister Mari^i;ny to be executed, under
the pretence of his bcint; guilty of magic, but, in reality,
that he might gain possession of his wealth. Louis, how-
ever, being improvident, soon spent the money he had thus
unjustly acquired ; and he was oliliged, to satisfy his wants,
to extort money from the nobility ; to levy a tenth from
the clergy ; to sell their liberty to the slaves who belonged
to the royal domains ; and even to compel such of tiiem
to be free as wished to continue slaves. Thus the king's
avarice, or prodigality, benefited his subjects. It is re-
markable that the edict of enfranchisement, dated 3d July
1315, declares that every person is born free by nature.
The following year this monarch died, in consecjuence it
is said of having taken ice when he was warm: it is sus-
pected, however, that he was poisoned.

He was succeeded by his brother Philip V. surnamed the
Long, on account of his remarkable stature. It was on oc-
casion of this succession that the Salic law was recognised
and enforced by the states of the kingdom ; fur Louis hav-
ing left one daughter by his wife Margaret of Uurgundy,
the Duke of Burgundy wished to support the claims of his
niece : the states, however, having been assembled, ex-
cluded her, and declared all females for ever incapable of
succeeding to the throne of France. This reign presents
no foreign affairs of any moment; but it may be noticed,
that during it the Jews were banished, being suspected, or
rather accused (for it is probable that they were not even
suspected, much less proved guilty) of having poisoned
the wells and fountains, at the instigation of the kings of
Tunis and Grenada. Philip excluded the bishops from the
parliament, where they had possessed too great authority.
He also obliged the burghers to deposit their arms in the
arsenals, whence they were not permitted to take them,
except in case of war. He likewise appointed their offi-
cers, and established a numerous militia. In another en-
terprise he was not successful; for he in vain attempted to
establish, over all his kingdom, the same denominations of
money, weights, and measures. In the midst of these pro-
jects he died, A. D. 1 322.

He was succeeded by his brother Charles IV. surnamed
the Fair. This prince, immediately on his accession, turn-
ed his attention to the finances, in the management of
which there v/ere many abuses. At this period, the Italians
in every part of Europe had the almost entire management
of money concerns; and Charles, having discovered that
they were guilty of extortion, as well as dishonest, confis-
cated their property, and put some of them to death. Dur-
ing this reign, a short war took place between Fra'.ice and
England, respecting a castk which Edward II. pretended
belonged to him: but, in 1326, Edward III. having suc-
ceeded to the throne of England, peace was concluded be-
tween the two monarchs. Charles the Fair died in 1328,
leaving the kingdom loaded with debts. He was the last
cf three brothers, successors of Philip the Fair, all of whom
died in a short space of time.

Charles left only one child, a daughter, who of course
could not succeed him ; but as his ([ueen was pregnant iX
the time of his death, Philip de Valois, the next male heir,
was appointed regent; and, on a daughter being born, was
unanimously placed on the throne of France. Though his
title was indisputable, yet Edward HI. of England put in
his claim ; and this gave rise to the most memorable events
in the history both of England and France, for upwards of
a century. As these, howe.ver, have been noticed in the

History of England, they sliall be but very briefly narra-
ted here. As the contest for the throne of France was one
of very great importance, and likely to be long and ar<luous,
both the competitors endeavoured to strengthen themselves
by alliances. In 1345, Edward invaded France with an
army of 30,000 men, and Philip advanced to meet him at
the head of 100,000. On the 26tii of August, in that year,
the famous battle of Cressy was fought, in which the
Frencii were defeated with great slaughter. In 1347, Ed-
ward took Calais ; and in the following year, he retuined in
triumph to England, having concluded a truce wiui France.
In the midst of his misfortunes, Philip had the satisfaction
of seeing Dauphiny annexed to the crown of France, the
last Count cf tliat province dying without issue; having
ceded his territories to the crown of France, on the condi-
tion that the eldest son of the French monarch shoulil as-
sume tiie name of Dauphin. Philip died in 1350, at the
age of 57, worn out with distress and anxiety. During hi.s
reign, a change took place in the coiistitu.ioii of ilif; parlia-
ment, by the incorporation of the counsellors namtajureurs,
who had formerly been taken exclusively fioiil liie no-
blesse, and the counsellors named 7-a/i/iorteurs, wao had
been taken from the class of citizens, li was also m this
reign that the famous ta.\ on salt, ihe gabcUt-, was imposed,
or rather established and augmented.

John, the eldest son of Philip, succeeded to the throne ;
but an act of injustice towards the Constable Raoul, whom
he ordered to be beheaded without any form of trial, ren-
dered him soon very unpopular. Of this, and of other cir-
cumstances, Edward HI. took advantage; for Charles,
King of Navarre, setting up a claim to the throne of France,
Edward resolved to support him. In this emergency, John
convoked the states-general in 1355, who agreed to a levy
of 30,000 lancers, besides 100,000 other troops, and to a
subsidy to support them. At this assembly, a decree was
passed, that no proposition should be admitted without the
unanimous consent of the three branches or their deputies.
Thus, the third estate, which hitherto had been too much
and too often the slaves of the nobility or clergy, obtained
their due share of authority. In 1355, Edward invaded
France again, and sent into Guienne the Prince of Wales,
who had gained so much fame at the battle of Cressy. On
the 19th of September in the following year, this prince
■was again successful, at the battle of Poictiers, in which
the French were completely defeated, and their king taken
prisoner. John was treated with great attention and gene-
rosity by his captor, who, having concluded a truce for two
years, brought him over to England. In consequence of
the captivity of their monarch, the people of France were
plunged into the greatest disorder and confusion. The
Dauphin, indeed, assumed the management of affairs, but
his authority and influence were not sufficient to restore
tranquillity ; and, as he was totally destitute of supplies, he
found himself under the necessity of convoking the national
assembly; but that body, instead of supporting his admi-
nistration, seized the opportunity to demand limitations of
the regal power. Paris itself was entirely under the do-
minion of the provost of the merchants: the dauphin was
detained in a kind of captivity. In the midst of tliese dis-
orders, the King of Navarre, who had been thrown into
prison by John in the year I J55, contrived to escape, and
put himself at the head of the malcontents ; but his conduct
was so atrocious, that even those who had previously fa-
voured his claims, now forsook him, and resolved to
strengthen the power of the dauphin. For this purpose
they rallied round him, and the provost of the merchants
having been slain in an attempt to deliver Paris up to the
King of Navarre, that capital returned to its allegiance, and
France began again to assume the form, and enjoy the atf*

FRANCE.

269

vantages of a rep;ular t;overnmcnt. During these disturb-
ances, Edward was restrained by his truce I'roin taking ad-
vantage of them ; but no sooner was it expired, A. D. 1339,
than he invaded France with the whole military force of
England. In 1360, he concluded an advantageous treaty
of peace with his prisoner King John, who thus obtained
his liberty. On his return to France, however, finding that
his nobility were by no means disposed to allow him to lulfil
his engagements, he voluntarily came back to England,
where he died at his lodgings in the Savoy, 1364.

John was succeeded by his son Charles V. surnained the
Wise, an epithet which he weH deserved, by the prudence
and policy of his conduct: his first care was to repair tne
losses which his kingdom had sustained from the crroi s of
his predecessors : and having been made too sensible tiiat
the recent calamities of France had, in a great measure,
sprung from the captivity and absence of tlie monarch, he
formed a resolution never to a])pcar personally at the head
of his armies. Charles was resolved to render France, if
possible, a match for England ; but, in order to do this, it
was necessary not only to restore tranquillity, and to intro-
duce order and economy into all his'intcrnal .irrangements,
but also to bring under subjection, or weaken, tne King of
Navarre, who, from the vicinity of his domiiiions, had it in
his power always to prove a restless and formidable oppo-
nent. Against him, therefore, he first turned his arms;
and he soon, principally by tlie valour of Berirand de Gues-
celin, one of the most accomplished captains of the age,
obliged him to sue for peace, A. D. 1355. He next settled
the aflairs of Bretagne. Thus having succeeded in these
enterprizes, he turned his attention to the immense num-
ber of military adventurers, who, having followed Edward
into France, had, under the name of Companies, become a
terror to the peaceable inhabitants : these Charles soon
found were too numerous and formidable to be reduced by
force ; he therefore had recourse to policy. Alphonso XI.
King of Castile, was succeeded by his brother Peter I. sur-
named the Cruel : against him, Henry, Count of Trasta-
mara, took up arms ; but being obliged to flee into France,
he obtained permission from Charles to enlist the compa-
nies in his service. They readily embarked in an enter-
prise which promised them employment and booty ; and
thus Charles freed his kingdom of these adventurers. As
soon as Charles was satisfied of the internal peace of France,
he directed his thoughts to the reformation of the coin : he
likewise lessened the taxes, encouraged agriculture and
commerce, and embellished his capital. In the midst of
peace, however, he was still preparing for war, and anxious
to wipe oft' the disgrace which the successes of England
had inflicted on the arms of France. An opportunity soon
presented itself: the inhabitants of Guienne, oppressed by
the taxes of the Prince of Wales, to whom that pi'ovince
had l)een given by his father, laid tneir complaints before
the King of France. The Prince of Wales was cited to
appear to answer these complaints : he answered that he
would certainly come to Paris, but it should be at the head
of 60,000 troops: but he was no longer tiiat Black Prince,
who performed even more than he threatened ; he was
worn out both in body and mind by sickness. In 1369, war
was declared. The French were successful. Charles, re-
lying on his superiority, pronounced a sentence of condem-
nation against the Prince of Wales for his contumacy in not
appearing when cited; declared him and his fatlier rebels ;
and confiscated all their territory in France. In a few years,
the English were stript of all their ancient possessions in
that kingdom, except Bourdeaux and Bayonne, and of all
their conquests except Calais. Charles died in 13S0, after
a reign of great glory and benefit to his subjects. With
respect to his domestic life, there are some curious parti-

culars recorded : he ahvaySrose at six o'clock; and havin;»
performed his private j. voliuiis, as well as attended mass,
he gave audience to all who presented themselves, rich and
poor, receiving their petitions, and reading them himself:
at 10 o'clock he dined, spending but a very short time at
table, and eating only of one sort of dish : he always diluted
his wine with a considerable portion of water. During din-
ner, he was instructed by the discourse of some wise and
virtuous man. After dinner, he gave audience to the fo-
reign ambassadors ; he next admitted his ministers, and
learned from them the state of the kingdom. At one
o'clock, he retired into his chamber and reposed himself:
an hour afterwards, his chamberlains entered, and enter-
tained him with light conversation ; at three he attended
vespers, and afterwards walked in his garden. On his re-
turn, the queen brought in his children, whom he interro-
gated respecting their progress in education. In winter,
instead of walking, he employed himself in reading the Ho-
ly Scriptures. He took little supper, and went to bed early.
Though he spent his time at home in this plain and simple
manner, he always appeared abroad with a considerable de-
gree of dignity and splendour : before his subjects he was
always a king. His dress was magnificent ; his gens-d'ar-
mes preceded him ; his squires carried his ermine mantle,
his sword, and his regal hat ; he walked always by himself,
his brothers and the princes of the blood following him at
some distance. He seems to have been fond of literature,
and no present was more acceptable to him than books.
King John had left only 20 volumes in the royal library ;
he increased them to 900. In the year 1370, Charles, in
order to rouse his subjects to feats of arms, forbade all
games of hazard, and substituted in their place exercises
with the common and cross-bow. By another ordinance in
the following year, he granted letters of nobility to all the
citizens of Paris. This privilege they enjoyed till 1577,
when it was restricted to the provost of the merchants, and
a few others. It was entirely suppressed in 1667, and re-
established in 1707 ; and again suppressed in 1715.

Charlesthe Wise was succeeded by his eldest son Charles
VI. a minor : a few years before his death, Charles, think-
ing it probable that he should leave his son vei^y young,
passed the ordinance, which fixed the majority of the
French King at the age of 14. Charles VI. when he
mounted the throne, was 13. His uncles, the Dukes of
Anjou, Berne, and Burgundy, diflered respecting the re-
gency ; but it was settled by those to whom they referred
their difference, that the king should be crowned in a few
months, and that in the interval he should govern in his
own name, but with the advice of his uncles. Till the co-
ronation, the Duke of Anjou seems to have had the princi-
pal management of aflairs, but he employed his authority
rather for his own advantage than for the benefit of the king
and the people. Charles did not assume the sovereignty
till the death of the Duke of Anjou in 1388 : at first, it was
hoped that he would prove a man of spirit and enterprize ;
but he soon fell into a fit of frenzy ; and though he recover-
ed, he was unequal to the government of the kingdom, on
account of his frequent relapse, and his general imbecilitv.
His first relapse was occasioned by a singular incident : .At
a masquerade, he, with some of his nobles, covered their
bodies with rosin, powdered over, while hot, with fur. The
combustible habit of one of them was accidentally set on
fire: the flames communicated to some of the others, and
the king was so much afi'ected by the fright, and his nar-
row escape, that his disorder returned, and it afterwards
generally attacked him four or five times a year to the end
of his life. It is scarcely possible to conceive a court more
profligate and debauched than that of France was at this
period. While things were in such a situation, the Dvrke

270

FRANCE.

of Burgundy died. He was succeeded by his son, who
hoped to ijovci'n France as his lather iiad done, duriii'j; the
illness of Charles ; but he was opposed l)y the Duke of Or-
leans, tlie king's brother, who relied lor liis authority, not
so much on his relationship, as on llic influence whicli the
tluchcss had over Charles's mind, even in its most violent
and disordered stale. The quarrels between the two Dukes
were carried to a great height ; but at last, A. D. 1407, by
the interposition of common iVicnds, tliey were persuaded
to enter into a league of amity, in the most solemn man-
ner. But tlie Duke of Burgunily was meditating treachery,
even while he was professing fiiendship ; for he hired ruf-
fians, who assassinated his I'ival in the streets of Paris, and
when the ruffians gave him as their instigator, he avowed
and justified the action. What is still more strange, the
parliament of Paris |)asscd over the ciime, and even seem-
ed to admit the Duke of Burgundy's justification. The
consequences were such as might have been anticipated :
The princes of the blood, combining with the young Duke
of Orleans and his brothers, made war against the Duke
of Burgundy, and the unhappy king was a prisoner, some-
times with one party and sometimes with another. The
provinces were laid waste ; assassinations were frequent ;
and law, order, justice, and humanity, were equally set at
nought. Each party endeavoured to strengthen their ad-
herents by every mode in their power, and the fraternity of
butchers in Paris having declared for the Duke of Bur-
gundy, the adherents of the Duke of Orleans made interest
with the carpenters; — the fate of the capital depending on
the prevalence of either party.

During this calamitous state of France, England re-
frained from invading her, till Henry V. ascended the
throne ; but soon after his accession, he landed in Nor-
mandy at the head of 50,000 men : the battle of Agincourt
followed, in which the French were defeated with great
slaughter. Notwithstanding his success, Henry was ob-
liged to return to England for a supply of men and money.
In the mean time France was exposed to all the furies of
civil war. The Duke of Burgundy, who had been worst-
ed by his antagonists, attempted to regain possession of
his power and of the person of the king ; and these objects
he was enabled to accomplish, in consequence of some
quarrels in the royal family ; the person of the king was
seized by him ; the dauphin made his escape with diffi-
culty ; and great numbers of the opposite faction were
butchered. By tliis time Henry was again in a state to
revisit France with a large force : he landed in Normandy
and carried every thing before him ; afterwards he con-
cluded the treaty of Troyes, with the Queen and the
Duke of Burgundy, by which the succession to the throne
of France was secured to the King of England, and he
received tlie princess Catherine in marriage, A. D. 1420.
As soon as the dauphin heard of this treaty, he assumed
the style and authority of regent, and appealed to God and
his sword for the maintenance of his title ; but being un-
equal to his adversary, he was obliged to avoid a battle.
]n less than two months after the death of Henry V. A. D.
1422, Charles VI. terminated his unhappy life; and the
dauphin was crowned at Poictiers, (Rheims being in the
possession of the English) under the name of Charles VH.

This sovereign was very popular in France ; and the
situation of that kingdom required the exercise of all his
talents, and tlie influence of all his popularity. On the
other. hand the Duke of Bedford, the regent during the mi-
nority of Heni;y VI. was a man of great talents and pru-
dence, and fully sensible of the difficulty of preserving a
newly acquired kingdom against the legitimate sovereign,
to Avell beloved as Charles was. At first, the Duke of
Bedford v/as successful. lie defeated the French, and

their allies the Scota, in 14.;4, in the battle of Verneuil ;
but his next enterprize was destined to produce the ruin
of the English, and their expulsion from France, by means
so extraordinary, as in that age universally to be deemed
miraculous, in 1423, the Duke of Bedford undertook the
siege of Orleans. The affairs of Charles seemed dcs-
l)erate. He entertained tlioughts of retiring into the re-
mote provinces of his kingdom, where the influence of his
Queen, Mai y of Anjou, and of his mistress, Agnes So-
rcille, who lived in perfect arnily with the Queen, changed
his mind ; and he declared his resolution to perish with
honour in the midst of his friends, rather than yield in-
gloriously to his enemies. In the meantime Oi leans still
held out ; and the Maid of Orleans ap!)eared, who, by in-
spiriting her countrymen, and appalling the English,
obliged the latter to raise the siege. This extraordinary
woman had promised not only to raise the siege of this
city, but also to crown Charles at Rheims, which was still
in possession of the English. As soon as she had achieved
the first pait of her prediction, she insisted that the King
should march against Rheims. She was obeyed. Charles
set out for that city at the head of 1 2,000 men, and scarcely
perceived, as he passed along, that he was marching
through an enemy's country. Every place opened its
gates to him, and Rheims sent him its keys. He was ac-
cordingly crowned there King of France with the usual
ceremonies. Soon after this, the Maid of Orleans was
taken prisoner, and condemned to he burnt for sorcery
and magic ; but she had already completely recovered the
King's affairs ; and the Duke of Bedford dying soon after,
Henry V'l. who was a very weak prince, was obliged to
withdraw his forces entirely from France, the English be-
ing expelled from all their possessions on the continent
except Calais.

Charles now had time to direct his industry and judg-
ment, to remove the numerous and oppressive evils to
which France had been so long exposed. He restored the
regular course of public justice ; introduced order into the
finances ; established discipline among his troops ; repress-
ed faction in his court; revived the languid state of agri-
culture and the arts ; and in the course of a few years,
rendered the kingdom flourishing within itself, and for-
midable to its neighbours. In the midst of his prosperity
and wise administration, Charles was extremely troubled
by the conduct of the Dauphin. This young prince was
possessed of spirit and courage ; but his good qualities
were tarnished by the roughness of his manners, and the
savageness of his disposition. Discontented at court, he
retired into his province of Dauphiny ; but understanding
that his father wished to bring him back to Paris, he took
refuge with Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, who
willingly gave him an asylum, but would by no means
encourage him in the seditious projects which he enter-
tained against his father. When the latter heard of the
place where his son had taken refuge, he observed, " The
Duke of Burgundy is nourishing a fox, that will eat out
his entrails." But in fact, the Dauphin was the cause of
the death of the king ; for the latter being apprehensive
that he would poison him, refused for several days to taste
any food, and being thus overcome with hunger and cha-
grin, he died in 1461.

The Dauphin, under the name of Louis XI. succeeded
his father. His first and leading object was to aggrandize
ihemonarchv, by depressing the power of the nobles ; but
the latter tocik the alarm, and armed to defend their privi-
leges. The King also armed. The battle of Monteleri
was fought 1465, which decided nothing ; but a peace was
concluded on terms advantageous to the nobles. These
terms, however, Louis never meant to fulfil; for having

FiiANCE.

271

gained over many of his opponents, he used his influence
with the Assembly of the States, to declai-c those articles
of the treaty void which were most disadvantai^cous to him.
Scarcciv, however, had he succeeded in reducing Ids no-
bles to subjection by these dislionourable means, when he
was again involved m trouble by his own rapacity, and be-
came the dupe of his own artifice. For on tlie death of
Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, Charles the Bold,
who succeeded him, made preparations against I^ouis. To
these he was prompted, from a thorough knowledge of his
character, and a strong suspicion that Louis would soon
attack him. Louis also armed ; but as he was always
averse to war, he agreed to pay the Duke a large sum of
money, and he appointed a personal inteiview at a place in
Picardy, then in the possession of the Duke. Louis went
to the place with only a few attendants, in the hope that
Charles woidd come with as few; but at the same time,
his emissaries persuaded the inhabitants of Liege to revolt
against the Duke. The latter was at first pleased with the
apparent confidence of Louis in coming with so few at-
tendants ; but intelligence arriving, during the conference,
that a rebellion had broken out in Liege, and that it had
been instigated by the emissaries of Louis, Charles order-
ed the King into confinement. In this state Louis remain-
ed three days, when he was released by the Duke, on con-
dition, that he should march along with him, and assist
him in bringing the inhabitants of Liege back to their duty.
Liege was reduced, and Louis was permitted to depaitfor
his own dominions. During the remainder of his reign,
this monarch continued to act with his habitual duplicity.
Me first excited his ]5eople to rebel, and then having crush-
ed them, divided with his ministers, who were equally in-
famous with himself, their possessions. At last even his
ministers conspired against him ; but being defeated in
their schemes, they suffered those punishments which they
had so often inflicted on others. His brother C^harles was
poisoned ; the Constable St Paul, his brother-in-law the
Count of Armagnac, and the Dukes of Alen(jon and Ne-
mours, were beheaded ; and the children of the last named
nobleman were sprinkled with the warm blood of their
father, and sent in that condition to the Bastile. With
England he formed an ignominious truce for seven years,
engaging to pay annually 50,000 crowns of gold ; and sub-
sequently, he concluded a treaty at London with Edward
IV. by which he stipulated, that the truce should be kept
for 100 years after the death of each of the parlies, under
the original conditions. On the death of the Duke of
Burgundy in 1477, Louis proposed a marriage between
his son Charles, then only seven years old, and the heiress
to the large possessions of that duchy, comprehending not
«nly Burgundy, but Franche Compte, Artois, Flanders,
and nearly all the rest of the Netherlands; but he was
overreached by his rapacity, for having, even after he pro-
posed marriage, seized on Burgundy as a male fief, the
Princess IVIary of Burgundy was alarmed, and, by the ad-
vice of her Flemish subjects, she married the Archduke
Maximilian, son of the Emperor Frederic III. Hence arose
those wars, v/hich so long desolated the Low Countries, and
created an implacable hatred between the houses of France
and Austria.

Notwithstanding this m.arriage, Louis retained those
places in Burgundy of which he had taken possession ;
and, by the further acquisition of Anjou, Maine, Provence,
Bar, Uousillon, and Boulogne, he greatly augmented the
kingdom of France. Soon after he had succeeded in these
objects, lie was suddenly seized with a fit of apoplexy, and,
after enduring dreadful torments both of body and mind,
died A. D. 1483. The character of Louis XI. is not easily
anderstood : he was undoubtedly a man of considerable

talents, which would have been more useful to him, had he
not, in so many instances, trusted lather to his artifice than
to them. He was absolute, yet not dignified ; popular with
the great mass of his subjects, by humbling tiie great ; but
not generous. The system on which he acted was unjust;
yet, where his own views were not to be served, he was
zealous for the administration of justice. Such a charac-
ter, so composed of contradictions, must always be extra-
ordinary ; but, considering the age in which he lived, it is
not surprising that he violated every moral principle, and
yet resigned himself to the most ridiculous superstition.
Yet to this king, the Pope gave the title of Most Chris-
tian.

Among tlie useful establishments of Louis, Franco is
indebted to him for that of posts : he also paid great at-
tention to commerce and manufactures; and, to encourage
the latter, he invited silk manufacturers from Greece and
Italy, whom he exempted from all taxes, as well as their
wives and children. He issued an ordinance, permitting
the clergy, nobility, and all other persons, to carry on com-
merce, v/ithout derogating from their rank or civil privi-
leges. He proposed to make a collection of all the written
and unwritten laws, in order to compose a regular code,
and to abridge the forms of process. He also attempted
to introduce uniformity of weights and measures through-
out the kingdom ; but, on the other hand, he increased the
taxes, saying that he levied contributions on the purses of
his nobles, in order to spare their blood. On his death-
bed, however, he advised his son to lighten the taxes. In
short, his predominant character was duplicity and dis-
simulation ; and he frequently said, " If my hat knew my
secret, I would burn it." His education of his son, from
whatever motives adopted, was by no means qualified to
render him fit for a throne ; for he was brought up in re-
tirement, seen by nobody but the king's servants, and per-
mitted to engage only in the most childish amusements.
He was not even instructed in letters ; the king saying,
that the only maxim in the Latin language worth know-
ing, was this : cjiii nescit dissiinulare, nencit regnare.

Had not Charles VIII. his son, been naturally of good
talents, as well as a good disposition, he must have been
ruined by such a mode of education. He was only 13
years old when his father died ; and the Duke of Orleans,
as first prince of the blood, claimed the regency ; but he
foimd a competitor in the Duke of Bourbon, who main-
tained, that as the Duke of Orleans was only 24 years old,
he himself stood in need of a guardian. The states-gene-
ral were assembled at Tours, and declared that there was
no necessity for a regency ; they at the same time confirm-
ed the last will of Louis, by which the care of the person
of the king was entrusted to his sister Anne of France,
lady of Beaujieu. This princess being a woman of talents
and prudence, and, what was of more consequence, de-
teimined to discbarge the duties of her situation, made
choice of a council for the government of the kingdom,
and gave the constable's sword to the Duke of Bourbon,
brother of her luisband. The speech of the deputy of the
noblesse of Burgundy, at the meeting of the states, in 1 484,
deserves notice. " If," said he, " any dispute should arise,
either with respect to the succession to the throne, or with
respect to the regency, who ought to decide it but the
people, from whom all sovereigns derive their authority,
and in whom actually resides the sovereign powci-. When
I say the people, I mean all the citizens, comprehending
the princes of the blood themselves, as the chiefs of the
order of the nobility." The commons, or third estate,
made a very strong and touching representation respect-
ing the poverty of the kingdom, and they complained of
the multiplic;ition of judicial offices, many of which were-

272

FRANCE.

publicly sold : Ihey demanded that the tribunals should
select three men ol' merit, of whom the king should chuse
one, to fill any vacant oflice ; that all arbitrary and unequal
taxes and impositions should be abolished ; and that hence-
forward, in conformity to the natural freedom of France,
no taxes should be imposed without the free consent of
the states-general. These representations had not their
full cficct ; nevertheless, the taxes were considerably di-
minished.

The iJuke of Orleans, disappointed in his expectations
of the regency, went into Brittany, where he persuaded the
Duke of that province to commence an insurrection ; but
the war was of short duration. The king was everywhere
successful ; and the victory which his troops gained at
Saint Aubin, completed the destruction of the rebels. The
Duke of Orleans was made prisoner, and shut up in the
Tower of Bourges. It is supposed that his captivity was
prolonged, and rendered more irksome than it otherwise
would have been, in consetiuence of the resentment of Anne
of France, whose passion he had slighted. As soon, how-
ever, as Charles took the sovereignty into his own power,
he set him at liberty ; and the Duke's gratitude and good
sense induced him to become a loyal subject : he even used
his influence with Anne of Brctagne, though he was ena-
moined of her, to induce her to marry the king. This hap-
py union took place in 1491, and put an end to all the civil
wars which that duchy had occasioned.

But Charles was not destitute of ambition : Louis XI. as
heir of the house of Anjou, had acquired a claim on the
kingdom of Naples; he was, however, too prudent, as well
as too little inclined to war, to enforce his claim. Charles,
on the contrary, as soon as his kingdom was secured in
tranquillity, resolved to attempt the conquest of Naples j
and he accordingly set out on this hazardous expedition in
1494, almost without money, and with very few troops. At
first, every thing promised success ; the Italians were not
warlike; Florence opened its gates; Charles made his en-
try into Rome as a conqueror ; and the Pope was compel-
led to grant him the investiture of the kingdom of Naples.
Pie lost no time, but immediately left Rome for his new
kingdom. Ferdinand, his competitor, fled at his approach ;
the city of Naples instantly declared for him ; and of the
whole kingdom, only three towns continued in the interest
of Ferdinand. Had Charles not been dazzled by the rapi-
dity and splendour of his success, he would instantly have
secured his conquests ; but he wasted his time at Naples in
festivals and triumphs, and was indulging in the vain and
presumptuous hope of being able even to extend his victori-
ous arms to Constantinople, and to subvert the Ottoman
empire ; while a combination was forming against him of al-_
most all the Italian states, supported by the Emperor Max-
imilian, and Ferdinand King of Arragon. Charles, there-
fore, was soon too fatally convinced, that, instead of extend-
ing his conquests, or even retaining the kingdom he had
acquired, it would be absolutely necessary for him to se-
cure his retreat into I-'rance. On every side, his enemies
collected in great force ; while, to add to the difficulties and
embarrassments of his situation, the Duke of Orleans ne-
glected the cause of his sovereign and his country, to en-
gage in an attempt against Ludovico Sforza. Charles's
vigour of mind was of great avail in this emergency: At
the head of nut more than 9000 men, he traversed the Alps,
while the confederates, though they had 30,000, were afraid
10 encounter him in the mountains, and patiently waited for
him in an open plain near Placentia, Here the battle of
Fornova was fought. Charles was among the first who
charged the enemy ; and his officers and soldiers, animated
by the example of their sovereign, fought nobly and suc-
cessfully. The Italians fled ; but Charles, on account of

the very great inferiority of his forces, either was not able
or did not deem it prudent to pursue them, but continued
his march unmolested, and soon afterwards relieved the
Duke of Orleans, who was blocked up iu the city of Nova-
ra by Sforza. Notwithstanding his success, the King of
France would probably have found it very difficult to have
extricated himself, had not a reinforcement of 1 6,0G0 Swiss
troops joined him, by means of which he was placed in a
situation to dictate the terms of peace with Sforza. In the
mean time, Ferdinand returned to Naples, which, however,
he did not reconquer, till after an obstinate defence by the
Duke of Montpensier, to whom the government of it had
been entrusted by Charles.

In 1496, the Kingof France again prepared to invade Italy,
not for the purpose of renewing his attempt on Naples, but
in order to support the pretensions of the house of Orleans
to the duchy of Milan. Bui the Duke of Orleans, who was
heir to the crown of France, refused to take upon him the
command of the army destined for this purpose. Tliis re-
fusal probably originated not so much from his apprehen-
sion of the danger and difficulty of the enterprise, as from
his belief that Charles, worn out by debauchery, could not
possibly long survive. In consequence of his refusal, and
of some other circumstances, particularly his apparent sa-
tisfaction at the death of the dauphin, which opened up to
him the immediate and almost certain prospect of the
throne, he was disgraced, and retired from court to the cas-
tle of Blois. The king being thus disappointed in his
hopes respecting Italy, and being too sensible that his
health was rapidly declining, turned his thoughts entirely
to the internal economy of his kingdom, and at the same
time relinquished his irregularities with regard to women,
and retired with his queen to the castle of Amboise. Here,
in 1498, he accidentally struck his head against the top of
a door, which brought on a tit of apoplexy, of which he died
in a few hours, in the 1 5th year of his reign, and 28th of his
age. His character is admirably drawn by Comines : " He
was a man of little person, and slender understanding ; but
so sweet in his disposition, that it was impossible to find a
better temper. His widow, Anne of Brittany, was incon-
solable ; and two of his domestics are said to have died of
grief for the loss of their master. One of the consequences
of the invasion of Italy by the French, in this reign, is said
to have been the introduction, among the latter, of a more
refined and delicate cookery. Before tliis period, French
cookery was distinguished by such a profusion, that their
kings, more than once, were under the necessity of issuing
edicts on the subject.

In Charles VIII. ended the direct line of the house of
Valois ; the crown on his death descended to Louis Duke
of Orleans, grandson to the first Duke of Orleans. He was
36 years of age when he became king : his disposition and
temper were excellent; and he was by no means destitute
either of prudence or experience. He soon discovered that
he was resolved to forgive tlie indignities he might have
suffered before he came to the throne, remarking, with
true magnanimity, that it was not for the king of France to
revenge the quarrels of the Duke of Orleans. Louis the
XII. (for so he was called) married a daughter of Louis
XI. ; a princess deformed in her person, and incapable of
bearing children, but of excellent qualities. As, however,
it was on many accounts desirable that he should have an
heir to the throne, he procured a divorce from the Pope,
and married Anne of Bretagne, widow of his predecessor.
Soon after this marriage, he turned his thoughts to the
claims which his family had to the duchy of Milan. Sforza,
anticipating Louis's intentions, had made every prepara-
tion to defend his dukedom. He repaired all the fortifica-
tions, augmented bis garrisons, and replenished his maga-

EllANCE.

zincs; but iie «'antcd the support and good opinions of his
own subjects ; and he had too much reason to apprehend,
that whenever Louis should appear in Italy, they would
desert him. The republic of Venice also, to whom some
part of t!ic iNIilancse territory lay very convenient, were
tempted to unite with Louis, in the hope, or on the condi-
tion, of sharing in his conquests. Maximilian, who before
had opposed the French in tlieir invasion of Italy, was nov/
on good terms with Louis : so that Sforza had every cause
for despondency. Louis himself was persuaded not to lead
his army in person ; but to give the command to Louis of
Luxemburgh, Robert Stuart, Lord D'Aubigny, and John
Trevalzeo, a native of JNIilan. The French army amount-
ed to 30,000 excellent troops : with these, the assistance of
the Venetians, and the disafTection of the Milanese to Sfor-
za, success beyond expectation was accomplished. Even
the castle of Milan was given up. As soon as the king of
France was informed of these successes, he hastened to
cross the Alps, and entered the capital of his newly acqui-
red territories. He continued three months in Milan, dur-
ing which period he gave great satisfaction, by recalling
those who had been banished by Sforza, remitting a fourth
of the imposts, and establishing a court of justice. But,
either from the natural fickleness of the Italians, from their
dislike to the dominion of a foieigner, and that foreigner a
Frenchman, or from some other cause, scarcely had Louis
reached France, when Sforza, wlro had retired to Inspruck,
returned, and found the gates of the principal cities of the'
jNIilanese opened at his approach. Even Milan itself re-
ceived him. But his success was of short duration : He
had in his pay a body of Swiss troops : these conspired
against him, and delivered him up to the French, by whoiVi
he was sent to Lyons, where Louis then resided. The hu-
manity of the king of France pleaded powerfully for Sforza,
notwithstanding his repeated treachery and enormities, so
that he was not put to death, but only confined in the cas-
tle of Loches, where ev.ery thing that he could wish for
was granted him. Here he died, after a captivity of ten
years.

The success of Louis with respect to Milan, induced him
to extend his views to Naples: but this kingdom he could
not expect to conquer without assistance ; he therefore
agreed to divide it with Ferdinand of Arragon : the city of
Naples and the northern half were to be the portion of
Louis. He also entered into a treaty with Pope Alexan-
der VI. ; but the simplicity and honour of the French mo-
narch were no match either for Ferdinand or Alexander.
The confederates indeed were successful. The King of
Naples fled from his own territories ; and distrusting Fer-
dinand, who had betrayed him, after having actually con-
cluded a treaty of alliance with him, he threw himself on
the liberality of Louis, who assigned him an asylum in An-
jou, with a pension of 30,000 crowns. But scarcely was
the conquest of Naples acliieved, when Louis and Ferdi-
nand turned their arms against each other: the Spaniards
began the quarrel, but the French were by no means slow
in revenging the insult offered them, and Louis in a short
time was so successful against his new enemies, that he
might have added Ferdinand's portion of Naples to his
own, had he not been persuaded to a reconcilement of their
differencfes. In 1 503, Philip, son of the Emperor Maximi-
lian, who had married the daughter of Ferdinand, passing
through France, had an interview with Louis, at which he
concluded a treaty with him in the name of the King of
Spain, who had granted him full powers for that purpose.
By this treaty, among other conditions, the two monarchs
were bound to a cessation of arms, and the provinces of
Naples originally ceded, were to be guaranteed to each.
As soon as the treaty was concluded, it was announced to

Vol. IX. Part. I.

the commanders of the French and Spanish troops in Italy.
The French commander immediately offered to retire with
his troops, but Gonsalvo, Who commanded tlie Spaniards,
under the pretext that Philip had acted wiiliout power-
from Ferdinand, stated his determination to wait for furthe:-
instructions. In the mean time he was reinforced liy 10,000
Germans, sent by Maximilian ; and receiving information
that Louis was likely to be deserted by his allies, the Pope
and the Venetians, and that 4000 French troops which had
been intended for theii' army in Naples were disbanded, un-
der the idea of peace, he was influenced by these circum-
stances to attack the French general. The result of the
battle of Cerignolcs was the utter defeat of the French, the
death of their commander, and the acquisition of the whole
of Naples, with the exception of a few places. As soon as
Philip was informed of this treacherous behaviour, consi-
dering his own character and honour as deeply concerned,
he returned instantly to France, and placed himself in the
power of the French monarch. He also remonstrated strong-
ly with Ferdinand ; his remonstrances, however, were of no
effect. Ferdinand preferred power to reputation ; but in
order still to deceive Louis, he publicly ottered to restore
Naples to its rightful sovereign, wiiilc at the same time he
sent orders to use every endeavour to expel the Frencli.
These orders were obeyed, and were successful. Louis at
first took this treacherous conduct of Ferdinand very coollv ;
but soon afterwards he changed his feelings and his determi-
nation. He assismbled three' large armies, for the purpose ot
invading Arragon on every side, while, at the same time, a
considerable fleet was fitted out, to insult the coasts of Ca-
talonia and Valencia, and to intercept tiie communication
between Spain and Naples. But a variety of unforeseen
and untoward circumstances disappointed the hopes and the
projects of Louis, while he himself was attacked by a fever
that threatened his life. As soon as he recovered, A. D.
1505, he diligently applied himself to terminate a war, which
had proved so unfortunate ; and a treaty was at length con-
cluded, according to which, the Neapolitan nobility, who
had been the adherents of Louis, and on that account had
been imprisoned by the Spanish commander, were to be
released.

Soon after this treaty, the states-general were assem-
bled at Tours. One of their first acts was, to bestow on
Louis the title of Father of his people. Their next was to
repair a fault that their sovereign had committed. He had
promised his eldest daughter in marriage to Charles of
Austria, afterwards so well known under the name of
Charles V. and along with her part of the French terri-
tories. To this promise, the assembly objected most
strongly, urging that the king had no riglil to give away
any portion of the French territory. Influenced by their
reasons or remonstrances, he recalled his promise, and his
daughter espoused Francis, Count of Angouleme, heir ap-
parent of the throne.

In 1 507, the city of Genoa, which was then dependent
on Milan, revolted from the French. Louis resolved im-
mediately to crush the insurgents ; and for this purpose,
he assembled a numerous and formidable army, forced the
passes which the Genoese had occupied, and stormed their
entrenchments. He then entered Genoa in triumph. But
in the midst of his success, his natural mildness of temper
was conspicuous, for he put to death only two of the insur-
gents, and levied a fine upon the city.

At this period, no monarchy in Europe was more proud
than the republic of Venice ; while their wealth, acquired
by commerce, excited the envy and jealousy of all their
neighbours. Pope Julius II. in particular, rc:j:arded this
state with peculiar enmity ; and influenced by iMs motive,
he laid tljg foundation of the famous league of Cambray,

274

FllANCE.

This league was composed of the Pope, tlie Emperor, tlie
King of I'rance, and the King ol" Spain. Louis was in-
duced to join in it, from the belief that the Venetians had
contributed to his loss of the kingdom of Naples ; but true
policy should have kept under such a motive for going to
war with the Venetians, as they were the only slate beyond
the Alps, on whose alliance he could depend. The Pope
contented himself with issuing his anathemas against Ve-
nice; and afterwards repenting of the alliance which he
had formed, he ofl'ered to make peace with the Venetians,
if they would give up to him two places, that formerly be-
longed to the church. This condition the republic de-
cidedly refused. Louis seemed most in earnest of all the
confederates : he assembled a large army, and put him-
self at the head of it. He even crossed the Alps ; those
barriers which had seldom been passed, without calamity,
by the sovereigns of France. The valour of liis troops,
animated by the example of their monarch, triumphed
over every obstacle. In the battle of Ghiarrada, the Vene-
tians were defeated with the loss of 8000 men. The Pope
now was active for his own benefit; immediately seizing
all the towns which the republic possessed in the eccle-
siastical territories. Ferdinand, on his part, reannexcd
Calabria to his Neapolitan dominions. At the same time,
the city of Venice itself was threatened by the armies of
Maximilian and Louis; and the absolute ruin of the re-
public seemed near at hand, when the confederates began
to quarrel with each other. The senate of V^enice lost
no time in profiting by this circumstance, and, by well-
termed concessions to Ferdinand and the Pope, dissolved
the confederacy.

Julius IL now projected a more arduous and extensive
undertaking than the humiliation or conquest of the re-
public of Venice, — he hoped, by his efforts, to expel every
foreign power from Italy ; and his first efforts were direct-
ed again the French, against whom he declared war, in-
vading the duchy of Ferrara, and laying siege to Miran-
dola. At first the King of France was disposed to behold
with contempt these efforts of the Pope. Perhaps he was
restrained by religious feelings towards the head of the
church ; but at length, A. D. 1511, he ordered his troops
to repel tlie invasion of Julius, and even to penetrate
into the Roman territories. Julius was soon under the
necessity of retracing his steps, when the French general
was suddenly seized with a nioital distemper, which gave
Julius a temporary respite and advantage ; but another
commander liaving been appointed, he was again pressed
so closely, that he was under well-grounded apprehensions,
that it was the intention of Louis to depose him from his
holy dignity. To this extremity the French monarch might
probably have pushed him, had not his queen interceded
and saved his Holiness.

Julius, in return for this clemency, displayed only in-
creased bitterness and enmity against France, which he
hoped to render efficient, by forming a new confederacy,
called the Holy League. The principal parties of this con-
federacy against France were, Ferdinand, the Swiss, and
the Venetians. At first their armies were successful ; but
the valour and skill of Gaston de Foix, a name celebrated
among heioes, retrieved the affairs of France. This gene-
ral, after relieving Bologna and Brescia, and defeating
the Venetians with a very inferior force, laid siege to
Ravenna, with the professed object of compelling or in-
ducing the army of the confederates to give him battle.
The two armies were nearly equal in numbers, being
about 20,000 each. The battle was long and obstinate.
The French were victorious, but their victory cost them
the life of Gaston. The day was already gained, when he
received information that a body of 4000 Spaniards still

maintained their gi'ound : anxious to render his victory
complete, he rushed forward to the charge, with about 20
gentlemen ; his horse was killed under him, and he him-
self, after having fought with the greatest courage, fell,
pierced with wounds. The death ot this hero was a fatal
blow to the French, for they soon afterwards lost all the
places which they possessed in Italy ; their generals did
not agree with each other; the king was without money;
the confederates were much superior ; and there was no
alternative left, but to evacuate the country.

I^ouis now, A. D. 1513, was threatened with a confe-
dcl'acy similar to that which had so lately humbled Ve-
nice. The Pope, Leo X. was to enter Dauphine ; the
emperor, Champagne ; the Swiss, Burgundy ; the King-
of England, Picardy ; and the King of Spain, Guienne and
Languedoc. But the elements of this confederacy were
too discordant long to hang together : the Pope was not
fond of war; the emperor accepted subsidies, but neglect-
ed to supply an army ; and Ferdinand looked to his more
immediate interest, as well as to an easier enterprise, in
seizing on the kingdom of Navarre. Of all the confede-
rates, therefore, Henry, King of England, was the only
formidable one that remained ; and he was eager after
glory : this he obtained at the battle of Spurs. But the
Swiss, who had entered Uauphir.e, having retreated, and
the rest of the allies, as we have mentioned, having desert-
ed the cause, the King of England, on the approach of
winter, re-embarked for his own country.

Anne of Bretagne died the following year, 1514, and
Louis, in the hope of having an heir, and in order to de-
stroy cfl'ectually the confederacy against him, married the
sister of the King of England. Louis was much older
than his wife ; this he forgot ; and in three months after
his nuptials, he was seized with u violent disorder, which
carried him off. In him expired the older branch of the
house of Orleans, and the crown of France passed to that
of Angouleme.

The taxes, which had been lessened by Charles VIII.,
were still further diminished by Louis, while, at the same
time, by a judicious mode of levying and collecting them,
he rendered those which were continued less irksome and
unpopular. Even in the midst of his Italian wars, he laid
on no new burdens. It is true, he extended and syste-
matized the practice of disposing of offices for money, but
he carefully excepted the judicial functions from this dan-
ger and disgrace ; they were always filled by men dis-
tinguished for their intelligence and virtue. The parlia-
ment of Paris not being adequate to the discharge of its
duties, since it had been made sedentary, Philip the Fair
and his successors had instituted several other parlia-
ments. Louis XII. still further increased their number,
and he issued an edict, by which he gave them authority
to recall hiin to the fundamental laws of the state, if ever
he discovered a disposition to evade or abrogate them ; — a
proof this of his wish to govern according to law, but no
surety of the object which he had in view. It is said that
he always kept two lists, one of the places and favours
which he had to bestow, the other of the persons in each
province most fit to fill or enjoy them ; and on such alone
they were conferred. This monarch made a wise, just,
and humane distinction between those who offended him
in his private character, and those who offended him as the
sovereign of France : the last he punished, because he was
of opinion that he thus best secured the safety and pros-
perity of the state ; the former he suffered to pass un-
punished. Perhaps in no part of his conduct did he dis-
play more good sense, or better consult the welfare of his
subjects, than in the choice of his ministers ; and in the
case of the Cardinal Amboise, he even seems to have had

FRANCE.

275

the merit, or the talent, of makini^ the same man, under
him, the instrument of happiness, wlio, under another,
would probably have been the instrument of oppression
and misery.

As soon as it was ascertained that the widow of Ijouis
XII. was not pregnant, Francis, Count of Angoulemc, and
Duke of Valois, look the title of king. He was at this
time 21 years of age, full of spirit and confidence, fond of
war and glory, and disposed, as well as enabled, from the
circumstances in which he was placed, to give way to that
propensity. Before he ascended the throne, he married
Claude, the daughter of the late monarch, by Anne of
Bretagne. Mary the widow of Louis bestowed her hand
on Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk.

The first and darling object of the new sovereign was,
the recovery of the Milanese ; and he resolved to profit
by the preparations which had been made by his prede-
cessor; but as money was still wanting, Francis, by the
advice of his chancellor Duprat, not only restored the taxes
which Louis had abolished, but exposed the offices of the
crown to sale, and endeavoured to augment his treasiiies,
by means, if possible, still more mijust, impolitic, and
arbitrary. As soon as he deemed himself quite prepared
for the conquest, he openly avowed his determination to
march against Milan. As his designs had been suspect-
ed, a confederacy had been formed against hiin, consist-
ing of Maximilian, Ferdinand of Arragon, Leo X., Sforza,
and the Swiss. But the character of Francis was of such
a cast, that the knowledge of this confederacy, instead of
leading him to drop or suspend his designs, only prompted
him to their more speedy and resolute execution. As the
Swiss guarded the Alps, it was necessary either to force
the passes of the mountains, or to elude the vigilance of
their protectors. Francis chose the latter. His soldiers,
into whom he had inspired his own zeal and ardour, cut
new roads ; and his forces were in Italy, before his op-
ponents thought that he had disentangled himself from the
Alps. The first enemy which the forces of Francis en-
coimtered were the papal troops, which were negligently,
and securely, as they thought, encamped on the banks of
the Po. On these the French poured down, so unexpect-
edly and with so much violence, that they were speedily
and easily discomfited. Hitherto Francis had remained in
his own kingdom ; but as soon as he learnt of this suc-
cess, he hastened to put himself at the head of his armies,
leaving his mother, Louisa of Savoy, regent during his
absence.

As soon as Francis assumed the command, he enter-
ed the Milanese, and pressed forward to its capital. For
its protection and defence, only the Swiss troops were pre-
pared ; they were encamped about a league from the city,
at a place called Marignano. Francis knew that they were
brave ; but he also suspected that they might be allured to
■withdraw from their post. His suspicions were not un-
founded. An offer of 700,000 crowns made a strong im-
pression on them, and they were preparing to yield ftlilan
up to the French king, when they were joined by 10,000
of their own countrymen. These troops were not dispos-
ed to desert the cause in which they were embarked, and
Francis found, that if Milan were to be his, the Swiss must
be fought and conquered.

The Swiss, probably ashamed of having listened to the
offers of Francis, and resolved to wipe off their disgrace,
fought with more than their usual bravery and perseve-
rance. The battle began about four in the afternoon, in
the month of September 1515, and three hours after dark,
the combatants, fatigued with their exertions, separated,
but only to renew the contest, if possible, with more valour
and animosity next morning. For some time the issue

was dui)ious, fir the Swiss, though inferior to the French,
fought only on that account more obstinately : At last they
were obliged to give way ; 10,000 of thcni perished on the
field of battle ; the rest fled, but in their flight they remem-
bered their character, and no disorder or confusion was
visible. The French army also sufl'ered severely, 6000
of their troops having been killed and wounded. On this
occasioTi Francis displayed the valour of a brave man;
Charles of Bourbon, his constable, the wisdom and ex-
perience of a great commander : to him the success of the
battle of Marignano is justly ascribed.

The Swiss were now tired of a contest, in the issue of
which they had no immediate concern ; and their army was
recalled. Sforza, therefore, was left to defend his territo-
ries by his own forces alone. His cause was hopeless;
but he sought to prolong his fate, by retiring into the castle
of Milan. The French army, however, full of ardour,
Hushed with victory, and guided by the coolness and skill
of the Constable, soon compelled Sforza to surrender the
castle, on the condition that he should enjoy a retreat and
a pension in France.

It was always the policy of the Popes to be among the
first to set on foot confederacies to protect Italy from the
French, and among the first to desert them. Leo X. acted
in conformity with this policy. He sought an interview
with Francis, whom he received with a flattery which he
knew would find its way to the feelings of the French
monarch. After this interview, Francis returned to Lyons.

Had not Francis been more ardent than penetrating, he
would not have forsaken Italy at this moment ; but he
uniformly displayed, through his whole life, qualities and
feelings which prompted him to enterprise, but forbade the
ultimate and permanent success of his plans. Among the
confederates against him was I'erdinand of Arragon. Soon
after the return of Francis to his own kingdom, this mo-
narch died. He had always opposed the designs of the
French against Naples; his death, therefore, seemed to
have removed a serious obstacle to these designs, which,
it is probable, were still cherished by Francis. At any
rate a rival was removed, whose experience, subtle arts,
and numerous resources, Francis had just reason to dread.
I'rancis, however, did not profit by tlie death of Ferdinand,
though his successor was only 16 years old; and by this
want of foresight — for history compels us to ascribe his
conduct to any other motive but a scrupulous regard to
justice — not that Francis was more iax in this respect than
the other sovereigns of his age,— he suffered a rival to
rise up in the fulness of his strength, still more formidable
than the one from whom death had just freed him. The
successor of Ferdinand was Charles V. ; and under him
were now united a most formidable kingdom in the Old
AVorld, and territories in the New, which promised an in-
exhaustible source of riches.

In the mean time, the Emperor Maximilian had invaded
the Milanese with an army of 40,000 men ; but the Con-
stable Bourbon, with an inferior force, obliged him to re-
tire. Francis also made an attempt to rescue Navarre
fi'om Spain, and to reinstate on its throne its legitimate
monarch ; but in this attempt he was defeated, principally
by the sagacity and prudence of Cardinal Ximenes, who
at that time ruled Spain.

Charles V., at his accession to the throne of Ferdinand,
was disposed to continue the war with Francis, especially
on the side of Flanders, where he was when Ferdinand
died ; but the Flemings were averse to a war, which ex-
posed them to the loss of their commerce. Francis, on his
side, was desirous of securing his conquests in Italy.
Under these circumstances, a treaty of peace was easily
and speedilv concluded at Noyon between the two moii-
Mm2

276

FRANCE.

archs. By this treaty, Francis was to give in marriage to
Charles his eldest daughter, and with her resign all his
pretensions to the throne of Naples. Charles, till the mar-
riage look place, was to pay 100,000 crowns a year to the
King of Trance, in consideration of his being already in
possession of Naples ; and Francis was left at liberty to sup-
port the heirs of the King of Navarre, provided they could
not make out their claim to the satisfaction of Charles.
Peace was thus restored for a short lime ; but in 1519, the
Emperor Maximilian expired ; and it was easy to foresee,
that the election of a successor would give rise to hostili-
ties. The probability of this event was still further in-
creased, when it was known that Charles and F'rancis were
competitors for the imperial dignity. They had indeed,
from the iirst, agreed to carry on the competition with
emulation, but without enmity; and Francis, witli his natu-
ral and characteristic vivacity and frankness, declared to
Charles, " We are both suitors to tlic same mistress ; the
more fortunate will win her, but the other must remain
contented." It was, however not lo be expected that the
loser would be contented. The prize was of infinitely too
great value to be sought for and lost with quiet feelings.
As the sovereignty at which they aimed could be obtained
only by means of the electors, money and influence, not
arms, were to decide to whom it was to fall. Francis was
profuse in his expenditure of money on this occasion, but
his influence was small. The Germans were partial to the
Jiouse of Austria; and the voice of Frederic of Saxony de-
cided the contest. Charles was raised to the imperial dig-
nity, and Francis retired disappointed, and rankling after
revenge. Influenced by these feelings, he sought and ob-
tained the alliance of Henry of luigland ; but Henry was
of too fickle a character to be long faithful to his promises.
Charles knew this, and a very short time saw the emperor
and Henry united. F'rancis next turned his thoughts to-
wards the Pope, who, hoping to serve his own interest, by
employing one monarch to expel the other from Italy, gave
encouragement to the expectations and wishes of Francis.
By the German constitution, the kings of Naples were for
ever excluded from the imperial dignity. According to
this regulation, Charles ought not to have been elected
emperor; btit as his election had taken place, Leo and
Francis declared that he had forfeited his right to Naples.
This was one cause for war ; and another was not wanting.
The emperor, as king of Spain, refused to do justice to the
heirs of the king of Navarre ; and in this event, by the
treaty of Noyon, Francis was at liberty to support them.
Tlie kingdom of Navarre received the French with open
arms. Charles was taken unprepared; his forces were cm-
ployed in quelling some commotions which had arisen in
Spain; and Navarre seemed on the point of being com-
pletely conquered, when it was saved to Charles by the
rashness of the French general, who before he had com-
pleted the conquest, entered Catalonia, whence he was
driven with disgrace, and his army afterwards defeated, and
himself taken prisoner. As this war had been carried on
by Francis in the name of Henry D'Albret, who claimed
the kingdom of Navarre, it did not immediately occasion
hostilities between Francis and Charles. In the mean time,
the former was nearly deprived of his life by an accident.
While he was engaged in the diversion of attacking with
snow-balls the house of the Count de Pol, he was wounded
in the head by a torch. For a long time he was seriously
ill; and, during the cure of his wound, it was deemed ne-
cessary to cut off his hair, which he never would permit
to grow again, but introduced the fashion of wearing it
short.

As soon as he was sufficiently recovered, he prepared
ibr hostilities ; and taking the field with a numerous army,

spread terror through the Low Countriesi Charles, on his
part, was not slow in meeting his antagonist ; and n«ar
Valenciennes, the two monurchs, at the head of their re-
spective forces, were opposed to each other. A thick fog
at this time prevailed, and the Constable Bourbon entreat-
ed hi.s sovereign to take advantage of it, and commence
the attack. Francis, however, jealous of the military re-
putation of the Constable, refused to listen lo his advice,
and even manifested his jealousy, by bestowing the com-
mand of the van, to which the Constable, by virtue of his
office, ha<l an undoubted right, on Charles D'Alencon, the
first prince of the blood. From this period, the Constable's
dislike of F'rancis may naturally be dated.

Nothing of consequence occurred in ilie Netherlands;
but Charles, who trusted as much, or more, to his intrigues
as to his army, contrived to engage Henry VIII. and the
Pope on his side. By the treaty entered into by ihem, it
was agreed, that the Pope and the Emperor should unite
their forces, for Ihe purpose of driving the I'rcnch from the
Milanese, which was lo be restored lo Francisco Sforza;
that Parma and Placentia should be restored lo the Pope,
whom the emperor should also assist in conquering Ferrara.
Henry, on his part, agreed to invade France on the side of
Picardy with 40,000 men, and to bestow on Charles his onlv
daughter, the Princess Mary.

As soon as Francis was apprised of the storm whicli
threatened his Italian dominions, he prepared for their de-
fence ; but as his forces were either employed in the Low
Countries, or assembling on the frontiers of Spain, he was
obliged to hire a body of men from the Swiss, l-'or this
purpose, he raised a large sum of money, which, however,
his mother intercepted; and, in consequence of ihe Swiss
troops not receiving their pay, Ibcy retired from the stan-
dard of Francis. At this juncture, Milan was betrayed to
the general of the Pope; the other cities of the duchy fol-
lowed its example; and the castle of Milan, with a few in-
considerable forts, alone remained to Francis. This great
success, however, was indirectly the cause of the dissolu-
tion of the confederacy ; for Leo X. received the news with
such transports of joy as brought on a fever and occasion-
ed his death. He had kept alive the confederacy, which
expired with him. But Francis was still unable to recon-
quer his territories in ihe Milanese; and in 1522, Fran-
cisco Sforza was restored to the whole of his paternal do-
minions.

The loss of the Milanese was not the only misfortune
which assailed Francis at this lime. Genoa expelled the
French troops, and opened her gates to the army of
Charles. Henry of England openly declared war; and his
forces, united with the Flemings, invaded Picardy. But
the French, inferior in numbers, baffled the designs of the
invaders, by adhering to the politic plan of not fighting;
so that at last the English and Flemings were compelled
to retreat. As soon as Francis saw that his territories
were secure on the side of Flanders, he resolved to march
himself into the Milanese. Before, however, he could put
this plan into execution, he was alarmed by a conspiracy
formed against him at home. The jealousy of the king
with regard to the Constable Bourbon, has been already
noticed. This nobleman, on his part, could not but feel
indignant at the treatment to which this jealousy had given
rise. His services, especially at the famous battle of Ma-
rignano, had never been requited ; on ihe contrary, the
king, in more than one instance, had purposely slighted
him. Perhaps, however, the feelings which this con-
duct on the part of the king produced, would not have
stirred up the Censtable to rebellion, had it not been for
another circumstance. The mother of Francis, forget-
ting her age, fell in love with hira. She oflered him

IKANCE.

277

marriage. He refused her. Her love was tins converted
into the most deadly hatred and revenp;e. A law-suit was
commenced against him for the estates which he held in
right of his deceased wife. Tlie issue was such as might
be expected; justice was set at nought, and the Constal)le
Bourbon found iiimself deprived of the greatest part of liis
property. In this state, he hegan or renewed his intrigues
with Henry and Cliarles, who gladly embraced his alliance,
and formed an actual treaty with him, according to which
ihe conquest of France was projected, and if it were el-
fecled, Provence and Dauphine were to be assigned to tlie
constable, with the title of King. In furthei-ance of this
plan, the English monarch was to invade Picardy ; the em-
peror was to enter France by the Pyrenees ; and Bourbo'.)
was to penetrate with an army of Germans into Burgundy,
where he expected to be joined by his numerous and pow-
erful adherents. The period for carrying these enterprises
into execution was fixed; as soon as Francis had crossed
the Alps, the confederates were to put their respective ar-
mies into motion.

As soon as Francis was informed of this conspiracy, he
attempted to seize Bourbon ; but he escaped, and fled into
Italy. Not deeming it prudent to leave his kingdom at
this juncture, he entrusted the command of the army des-
tined for the invasion of Italy to Admiral Bonnivet, who
was totally unfit for his station. The general of the Pope,
however, being much inferior in force, was compelled to
retire. The greatest part of the duchy of Milan submitted
to the arms of France ; and had Bonnivet known how to
act, Milan itself must have fallen. But he delayed attack-
ing it till it was too late ; the winter set in, and Bonnivet
was obliged to protect his troops from its inclemency in
quarters. In Burgundy and Guiennc, the success of Fran-
cis was more complete ; the Spaniards and Germans were
repulsed. Paris, however, was threatened by the English,
who, having landed in Picardy, advanced to within I !
leagues of the capital. Their career was, however, soon
checked by the Duke of Vendome ; and they were driven
out of the Fiench territories with disgrace.

At the commencement of the next campaign, the affairs
of Francis in Italy wore a very unfavourable aspect. A
numerous army of the allies threatened that part of the
Milanese which the French had conquered ; and Bonnivet
was quite unable to contend, either with the superior num-
bers or the superior talents of his opponents. He was ac-
cordingly under the necessity of abandoning his entrenched
camp, and crossing the river. During this latter move-
ment, he received a wound in his arm, which obliged him
to quit the field. The famous Chevalier Bayard was en-
trusted with the command during the absence of Bonnivet.
He animated the cavalry by his presence and example, to
■withstand the whole of the enemy's troops ; but in this
service he received a wound, which he immediately per-
ceived to be mortal. Incapable any longer of sitting on
horseback, he was placed on the ground, with his face to-
wards the enemy, and his eyes fixed on the guard of his
sword, which he held up instead of a cross. In this pos-
ture, he addressed his prayers to God, and expired, re-
gretted equally by his countrymen and his foes, as his an-
cestors for several generations had done, in the field of
battle. Just as he was about to draw his last breath, Bour-
bon arrived where he lay, and expressed his sorrow at his
fate — " Grieve not for me (said the hero), I die, as I lived,
true to my king 5 but I pity you, who fight against your
'ting, your country, and your oath !"

In consequence of the retreat of Bonnivet, which was
continued into France, the whole of Italy was wrested from
his master. The Cardinal Bourbon, eager after revenge
for the insults he had suffered, as well as anxious to con-

([ucr his promised kingdom, wished to have invaded Pro-
vence; but he was restrained by Charles, who advised or
commanded him to lay siege to Marseilles. In this siege,
forty days were unprohtably consumed. The King of
France advanced to its defence, and Bourbon retired into
Italy. Francis, again elated by his success, and untaught
by all the reverses which his predecessors, as well as him-
self, had sufl'ered in their attempts against Italy, resolved
to eriter that country, and endeavour to regain the Milanese.
From this attempt he was in vain dissuaded by the most
prudent and experienced of his generals, as well as by his
mother. He persevered, and success seemed to sanction
his design. The city of iNlilan opened its gates ; the army
of Bourbon fled ; but Francis did not improve his successes.
He consumed the precious time in besieging Pavia, when
he ought to have pursued and attacked the eneiny in the
moment of their consternation and flight. He was still fur-
ther elated by the Pope and the republic of Florence de-
serting his adversary, and uniting themselves to his cause.
It seemed to him as if the period were at length come, at
which it was decreed that the French should be universally
and permanently successful in Italy. Regarding the Milanese
as secure, he dipatched 6000 men into Naples, while he him-
self pressed forward the siege of Pavia. This city, though de-
fended with the utmost gallantry, must have fallen, as it was
reduced to the last extremity, when an imperial army ad-
vanced to its relief.

The battle of Pavia decided the fate of that city and of
Francis. Lannoy and Pescara, the generals who advanced
to its relief, were reinforced by 12,000 Germans, dis-
patched by Bourbon. Still Francis would not have been
unfortunate, had he either raised the siege, or continued in
his intrenchments ; but a false shame prevented him from
adopting the first measure, and the foolish and rash advice
of Bonnivet induced him to leave his advantageous position,
and offer battle to his adversaries. This was what they
wished for, but hardly expected. Even after the impe-
rialists had their adversary under circumstances most fa-
vouiable to themselves, their success was extremely doubt-
ful ; and, in all probability, Francis would have witnessed a
drawn and indecisive battle, or at least would not have suf-
fered such a severe and fatal loss, had it not been for the
treachery of part of his own army. In the midst of the
engagement, the Duke of Alengon, with the troops under
his immediate command, that formed part of the left wing,
went over to the enemy. About the same time, the garri-
son of Pavia sallied out on the rear of the French ; and the
cavalry of the latter, unable to withstand the imperial horse,
gave way. Under these circumstances, notwithstanding
the exhortations, the example, and the exertions of Fran-
cis, the rout became general. The king was himself
wounded, and thrown from his horse ; yet he defended him-
self bravely, till at length, exhausted by fatigue and his
wounds, he was under tiie necessity of delivering his sword
to Lannoy. On the day after the battle, Francis was con-
ducted to a strong castle near Cremona, and committed to
the charge of an officer of great vigilance and integrity.

As soon as the regent Louisa was acquainted with the
disastrous battle of Pavia, by a letter from her son, contain-
ing these words," Madam, all is lost except our honour,"
she put forth all her talents, which had hitherto been ex-
pended on useless or dangerous objects, towards the safety
of the kingdom ; and that it was saved in this hour of un-
paralleled and imminent danger, nmst be ascribed to her
exertions and talents. She immediately assembled the no-
bles at Lyons ; collected the remains of the army, and re-
cruited it so as to render it fit again to take the field ; levied
new troops ; and, above all, endeavoured to conciliate the
King of England. Henry had long been jealous, or afraid

278

FRANCE.

of ClKirU's; :uid Wolscy liad not foiijotlcn the promises of
the papal ilign'uy, willi wliich the cmpcroi- had deceived
liiiii. I'ut it was evident, liiat whatever steps the Kin;; of
l^ngland mitvht he induced to take, immediate measures on
the part of France itself were indisjiensahly necessary; and
wlicn the storm had passed away for a filtle time, it was
discovercfl tliat it was not in the power of the Imperialists
to profit so much by tiie victory of Pavia as they liad lioped,
and Fi'ance had dreaded. Lannoy found himself under the
necessity of disbanding the greatest pan of his army for
want of money. The character of Charles in a great mea-
sure saved France; for, instead of pursuing his advantages
by the same means by wliich he had acfjuired them ; instead
of aupnienling his armies and pushing his conquests into
France, — he endeavoured to gain from his royal captive, by
intrigue and ncgociation, what he probably could have
wrested by force. But Francis indignantly rejected the
base and dishonourable terms, and displayed, on the occa-
sion, such spirit, that Lannoy thought it more prudent to
send him into Spain, for the purpose of a personal inter-
view between him and Charles. But this interview, at
lirst, was productive of no efTect. Charles behaved to him
with so much duplicity, and evidently endeavoured to ex-
tort from him such elishonourable terms, that Francis, in
despair, entrusted to his sister, the Duchess of Alen(;on, a
deed, by which he resigned his kingdom to the Dauphin.
This circumstance at last induced Charles to behave with
more openness and honour towards his captive. lie was
also threatened with a confederacy against him, which had
for its objects to liberate F'rancis, and to humble and cur-
tail the power of his conqueror. By the treaty of Madrid,
I'rancis regained his liberty, and, as the price of it, restored
Burgundy to the emperor in full sovereignty, as well as
Artois and I'landers. As hostages for the regular and ho-
nourable fulfilment of these conditions, Francis gave his
two eldest sons. In order to render the union between him
and the emperor more binding and lasting, he was to marry
the emperor's sister, the queen-dowager of Portugal, and
to cause all the articles to be ratified and registered by the
states. Even these terms did not satisfy the emperor ; for,
suspicious of the integrity of Francis, he bound him by an
oath to return as a prisoner into Spain, if, within a limited
time, all the stipulations were not fulfilled. It was not, in-
deed, probable, that the I'rench sovereign would himself
be willing to execute such stipulations, or, if he were, that
his states would permit the kingdom to be so dishonoured ;
and, even while he was yet at Madrid, he .issembled the
lew counsellors in whom he could confide, and before them
solemnly protested against a treaty which had been extort-
ed from him, and which he therefore deemed null and void.
The articles, however, were ratified in France, as, till that
ratification arrived at Madrid, Francis was not to be at li-
berty to depart ; but, as soon as Francis passed the bounda-
ries between France and Spain, he mounted his horse,
waved his hand over his head, and joyfully exclaimed seve-
ral times," 1 am yet a king !"

Scarcely had he reached Paris, before he disavowed the
principal article of the treaty of Madrid, that by which he
agreed to cede the province of Burgundy to Charles; but,
in order to colour and excuse this infraction of the treaty,
the deputies of that province waited on the king, in the pre-
sence of the ambassadors from Charles, and represented,
that no sovereign could alienate their country from the
crown, or transfer it to another, without their consent ; and
that, therefore, as Francis had done that, which he had no
right or authority to do, the cession of Burgundy must be
looked upon as void. F'rancis assented to these arguments ;
but at the same time he offered in lieu of Burgundy, to pay
the emperor two millions of crowns. Charles, as might be
expected, rejected the proposal ; and resolved to have re-

course to arms, for the ptirpose of compelling his adversary
to fulfil the treaty of Madrid.

But while the fate of Francis had excited the pity, — the
ambition and power of Charles had roused the jealousy, or
the apprehensions of the other Ii,uropean sovereigns. The
Pope, the republic of Venice, and the Duke of Milan, en-
tered into the confederacy, of which, under the appellation
of tlie Holy League, Henry King nf Ivigland was declared
the head and the protector. Scarcely, however, was this
conledcracy formed, A. D. 1527, when its dissolution ap-
peared at hand : The Milanese, indeed, had been overrun
by the Constable Bourbon; but his soldiers not reaping
from the conquest of this exhausted territory all the plun-
der they had anticipated, he was obliged to march them
against Rome. This march, perhaps as much as any of the
exploits of the Cardinal, proved the greatness of his mili-
tary talents: it was executed in the depth of winter, with
an army of 23,000 men, destitute of money, magazines, and
artillery, and in the face of a superior army ; but Rome was
reached ; and Bourbon was on the point of witnessing the
cai)tiire of the capital of the ancient world, when a random
shot deprived him of life. The command of his troops de-
volved on the Piince of Orange ; they v/ere eager for booty,
and for revenge, on account of the death of their general;
and Rome became a theatre of carnage and desolation, the
Pope himself being made prisoner.

But the splendour of this expedition, and its immediate
success, by no means compensated for the injury which it
did to the cause of Charles: the Milanese were left expo-
sed ; Catholic Europe was indignant and horrified at the
treatment of the Pojie ; the slates of Italy were wearied
with the yoke of Charles, and an army sent under these
circumstances by F'rancis, was received with congratula-
tion and gratitude. After the French commander had suc-
ceeded in reconc|uering nearly the whole of the Milanese,
he directed his march towards Rome, from which place,
after having liberated the Pope, he lesolved to proceed to
Naples, 'i'he imperial army was unable to contend with
him ; all the Neapolitan territory, with the exception of the
capital and Gacta, submitted to the invaders ; the fleet of the
emperor was defeated ; and the French at last seemed to
have secured the object, after which they had so long and
so frequently directed their efforts. But Francis' charac-
ter was much better suited for rapid and splendid enter-
prises, than for such as required continued effort, circum-
spection, and foresight : Elated with his success, he forgot
that his troops still must be supported and paid ; he ne-
glected or disgusted his Admiral Doria, to whose skill and
valour he had been indebted for his naval victory ; he even
ordered him to be arrested, because, with a freedom, which
the circumstances justified, which his republican birth and
education might have excused, and which probably arose
in some degree from his attachment to Francis, he opposed
some designs of the king, which he deemed injurious to his
honour, as well as to the interests of Genoa. Doria, ap-
prised of his danger, escaped the meditated arrest, en-
tered into a negociation with the emperor, and sailed back
to Naples, which he protected and delivered. In the mean
time, the discontents of the French army increased ; they
were in great want of provisions ; constantly harassed by
their opponents, and at last attacked with a contagious dis-
order : of this their general died ; and his successor found
himself under the necessity of evacuating Naples. Doria,
now triumphing over Francis, was resolved to efl'ect the
liberation of his native city ; and as the French garrison of
Genoa was reduced by desertion to a very inconsiderable
number, he had soon the satisfaction of entering it, where
he was hailed as the father of his country, and the restorer
of its liberty.

The dreams of conquest which Francis had indulged, be^

FRANCE.

279

ing thus dispellecl by his reverses, he turned his thoughts
to peace ; which, however, he mitijhl liave loutul it diflicult
to have gained, had not Charles at this time been alarmed
at tlic progress ot the Turks, the progress of the Protestant
religion in Germany, and the discontents in Spain. In con-
sequence of this mutual disposition for peace, the treaty of
Canibray was formed. Charles gave up his pretensions to
Burgundy. Francis, on his part, renounced all his right
to the Milanese, Flanders, and Artois,and espoused Charles'
sister, tlie widow of the King of Portugal. He also agreed
to give two millions of crowns of gold for the ransom of his
sons. With this money he was supplied by Henry VHI. of
England. These terms were not very honourable or ad-
vantageous to F'rance. Hut the French monarch stained
his reputation, by abandoning his allies, the Ventlians, the
Florentines, and the Duke of F'errara, to the mercy of
Charles.

Francis now had been for nine years, from 1525 to 1534.,
almost constantly at war. His kingdom was nearly ex-
hausted ; and not only did its finances require his care, but
its internal regulations in almost every other respect. To
these objects, therefore, he devoted some part of his time ;
but a larger portion of it was given up to luxury, the pa-
tronage of letters, and the protection of the fine arts. Dur-
ing this repose from war, the most important events were,
the annexation of the province of Bretagne to the crown of
France with the consent of the states, and the niariiage of
his second son Henry with the celebrated Catherine of Me-
dicis, by which union he hoped again to open a path for the
entrance of the French into Italy.

Francis had never regarded the terms of the peace of
Cambray as advantageous or honourable to himself;
and consequently had eagerly looked forward for a good
opportunity or excuse, in older to break them.' This op-
portunity occurred in the year 1535, five years after the
treaty was concluded. Charles, at this time, was absent
on an expedition to Africa. Sforza had put to death the
F'lench agent at Milan. Thus an excuse for hostilities
was alTorded, as well as a good opportunity for commenc-
ing them. The Duke of Savoy, however, refused permis-
sion to the French to pass through his dominio)is ; but he
could make no effectual resistance. Savoy itself was soon
conquered ; and Piedmont alone remained to the Duke.
Sforza, alarmed at the approach of the French army, is
said to have expired with terror ; and every thing seemed
to promise a rapid fulfilment of the wishes of Francis.
Again, however, he was destined to be disappointed. The
Pope would not second his enterprise. Henry of England
ofiered to support him, but on the condition that Francis
should, like him, throw ofl' the papal supremacy. To this
condition, Francis refused his assent. The Protestant prin-
ces of Germany, to whom, as the natural opponents of
Charles, he next turned his attention, renounced his
alliance, because he persecuted their brethren in France.
Tie therefore was convinced, that on his own resources
and vigour alone he must depend in his war with Charles.
But this consideration failed of producing corresponding-
conduct. Instead of profiting by the unprepared state of
Charles, he suffered himself to be duped by his profes-
sions. At last he saw his folly. While the emperor was
amusing him v>ith the hope that the Milanese should be
restored to France, he entered Piedmont with an army of
40,000 infantry, and 10,000 cavalry. This country soon
yielded to him ; and Francis next saw him direct his at-
tention and his march against the southern provinces of
his kingdom. On this occasion, Francis conducted him-
self with a degree of prudence, which could not have been
expected from his sanguine disposition. Instead of march-
ing to the frontiers to give his opponent battle, he resolv-

ed to act entirely on the defensive ; to garrison the strong-
est towns ; and lo lay waste the country as the enemy ad-
vanced, so as to deprive him of subsistence. This plan
was entrusted to iNIontmorency : and to no finer person
couki it have been entrusted. He acted strictly accord-
ing to the directions and the design of his sovereign.
Charles advanced into Provence ; but he found it desert-
ed and desolate. There were no inhabitants, no cat-
tle, no grain. The open towns submitted, but the fortified
places resisted. Before one of these, the French general
had encamped his army ; but in such a silualion that he
was invincible, and the town was safe, unless the emperor
could tempt or provoke him to give battle. l"his Mont-
morency cautiously avoided. For two months, Charles
besieged the town ; but he made not the least progress,
while famine and disease thinned his ranks, and dispirited
his troops. At last he was compelled to retreat. Now
Montmorency came forth, and hung upon the rear of his
opponent. Perhaps the emperor and his army might have
been totally destroyed ; but the French general, even under
the most favourble circumstances, would not depart from
his plan, and hazard a battle ; declaring that a bridge of
gold ought to be made for a flying enemy.

About the same lime that Charles entered Provence,
another of his armies invaded Picardy ; but it was equally
unsuccessful. F^rancis now was at the height of his pros-
perity : His great rival was defeated and disgraced : His
dominions were proved to be invulnerable, when properly
defended. He himself had gained prudence and expe-
rience : The rashness and folly of youth had yielded to the
cool and comprehensive wisdom of age ; but in the midst
of these flattering circumstances, a most poignant disaster
overtook him, — the dauphin died suddenly, not without
suspicion of being poisoned.

In the beginning of 1537 a curious scene was exhibited,
which seems to prove, that the natural foibles of Francis'
character were too deeply implanted to be entirely ex-
tirpated by age and experience. He summoned the em-
peror to appear before the parliament of Paris, to answer
as his vassal for the counties of Artois and Flandeis ; and,
on his refusal, declared them forfeited to the crown of
France. He even marched into the Low Countries ; but
cither not being sincere, or not able to carry his purpose
into effect, a suspension of arms was agreed upon, which
was afterwards followed, A. D. 1533, by a truce for ten
years. Shortly after this truce was agreed upon, Charles,
on his voyage to Barcelona, was driven to take refuge in a
small island on the coast ol Provence. As soon as Francis
heard of this, he proposed a personal interview, to which
the emperor consented ; and thus these two rivals, after
twenty years of hostilities, met each other, and vied in ex-
pressions of respect and fiiendship.

In the following year they had another interview. In
consequence of the revolt of the people of fihent, it was
necessary for Charles to pass into the Netherlands from
Spain. As expedition was necessary, he did not wish to
pass through Gern)any, in which country he must have
travelled with so much ceremony and pomp as must have
delayed his progress. He did not like the uncertainty and
risk of a voyage ; he therefore resolved to pass through
France ; and, in order to induce Francis to permit this
passage, and not to take advantage of it, by detaining him,
he represented to that mcjuarch, that he would cede the
Milanese to him. Francis agreed to the proposal, and
received and treated Charles with the utmost respect and
magnificence, during his six days abode in Paris. A bon
mot of Triboulet, the fool at the court of Francis, on this
occasion, is recorded : lie wrote on liis tablet, that Charles
was a greater fool than himself, thus to expose himself iu

JSO

FRANCE.

passing tlirougli llic territories of liis rival. " liut what
will you say, (observed Francis,) if I let him pass nnmo-
lestcci?" "I shall elVacc his name, and put yours in its
stead," replied the fool.

As soon as the emperor had arrived in Flanders, the
ambassadors of Francis rccjuired that the Milanese should
be restored to their master. At first Charles gave no
direct or decisive reply, till at last having reduced the
Flemings to submission, he lioldly averred that he had
never given any promise to restore the Milanese. Francis
was completely ashamed at his own folly, in thus being the
dupe of the emperor, and at the same time was filled with
indignation and the spirit of revenge ; but he could not
immediately commence a war, for, by his interview with
Charles, he had excited the suspicion, or produced the in-
difl'erencc, of the king of England. The pope seemed
resolved to maintain his neutrality. The sultan alone lis-
tened to his schemes of revenge and warfare. Still, how-
ever, Francis could scarcely feel himself justified in the
eyes of Europe to commence hostilities, merely because
the emperor had given him a loose promise to restore the
Milanese, and had not kept that promise ; but a more solid
reason was not long wanting. Two French ambassadors
were assassinated by order of the Milanese government.
This was amply sufficient, in the spirit in which Francis
liad long been : Ho demanded instant and full satisfaction
for their death ; he was evaded and refused ; and he re-
solved on instant war. Scarcely had Charles returned
from a second expedition into Africa, A. D. 1542, when
five formidable French armies entered his dominions.
Spain, Piedmont, Brabant, Flanders, and Luxemburgh,
were at once the scene of war. The Duke of Orleans
reduced the greater part of Luxemburgh ; the dauphin
laid siege to Perpignan : but, on a report that the emperor
was advancing to its relief, the duke abandoned his con-
quests in Luxemburgh, and hastened to support the Dau-
phin. Perpignan was defended by the Duke of Alva, who
had instructions from his master to hold out to the last
extremity, as it did not enter into his plan to raise the
siege. The event proved that Charles was wise in his de-
termination ; for three months the French endeavoured to
reduce it, but their troops fell before fatigue and disease ;
and after that period, they were under the necessity of re-
tiring from before it. The armies of Francis were equally
imsuccessfui in their other attempts against the dominions
of the emperor, so that he saw his vast preparations ren-
tlered utterly useless.

The year 1543 was distinguished by few events of mo-
TYient. Rochelle had revolted, but it was soon reduced.
T,uxemburgh was occupied by the armies of Francis; and
the city of Nice was besieged by that monarch, in con-
junction with his ally the sultan : but this alliance was by
110 means prudent or politic, as it gave great offence to
those wlio might otherwise liavc united willi Francis, that
•he should have allied himself to an infidel ; and this evil
"consequence of his alliance was not counterbalanced by
.success, lor Nice was not reduced. The year 1544 was
distinguished by the battle of Cerizoles. The young
Count D'Enghien had penetrated into Piedmont, where
he- was opposed by tlie imperial general the Marquis del
G'uiosto. The armies met at Cerizoles, and the Imperia-
lists were defeated ; but the victory of the count was of
little avail. The emperor, and Henry of England, (who
at length had taken a decided part against Fiancis,) had
entered Picardy with two numerous armies ; and. as
Francis was by no means equal in force to his opponents
in this quarter, the count v/as obliged to abandon the fruits
of his victory in Italy, and hasten to the north of France.
At no period were the affairs of the French monarch, to

all appearance, more dusperata than at this period. The
force of his enemies was so powerful, and his own means
of resisting that force, or delaying its progress, so inadc-
(piate, that had Charles and Henry united their armies,
Paris, in all jirobability, would have fallen : liut they were
not men likely to agree long in opinion ; besides being
suspicious of each other, they were both obstinate in their
dispositions. Charles wasted his time in the siege of St
Dizicr, while Henry's immediate interest directed him
against Boulogne. From these attempts neither of them
would desist, even though they mu it have perceived, that
if they gave them up for the present, Paris would be their
immediate reward, and St Dizicr and Boulogne would not
long hold out after the capital was reduced. At this
crisis, Francis, who had been long unable, from vUnes^f to
head his armies, committed the command of them to the
Dauphin, who was not insensible to the dangers and diffi-
culties of his situation, but who conducted himself, oti this
occasion, with considerable skill and prudence. St Dizier
was bravely defended ; nor would it l)av« fallen if artifice
had not been employed. On its reduction, though the
emperor's army was considerably weakened by the losses
he had sustained during the siege, he resolved to pene-
trate still farther into France. Champagne was invaded,
and Chateau-Thierry was taken,— a place within two days
march of Paris. The fate of the capital seemed inevita-
ble, when the Dauphin threw himself between it and- the
enemy ; but he still cautiously avoided a battle, content-
ing himself with incessant skirmishes, and with depriving
the enemy of the resources of the country. This plan had
its desired effect : Charl#s, straitened for forage and ne-
cessaries, listened to terms of accommodation, and a de-
finitive treaty was signed at Crespy. By this treaty,
Francis resigned his acquisitions in Piedmont and Savoy;
and the emperor engaged, in the space of two years, to
grant his daughter or his niece in marriage to the Duke
of Orleans; and, as a portion, to give up either the Low
Countries or the Milanese. It is evident, that this treaty,
like the rest which Francis had entered into with his
opponent, was favourable to the latter, in so far as the
cessions to him were immediate and certain ; and of doubt-
ful advantage to the former, in so far as it contained merely
a promise of a future cession to him : while, by such
arrangements, reasons for future warfare were supplied.

While the negociations between the Emperor and
Francis were going on at Crespy, Boulogne had fallen
into the possession of the king of England ; and as that
treaty contained no stipulation respecting Charles' ally, it
was necessary for Francis to recover Boulogne, either by
force or negociation. He chose the former, and sent au
army, under the Duke of Orleans, for that purpose. But,
at a place between Abbeville and Montreuil, the duke
died, and the enterprise was abandoned. The insincerity
of Charles in this condition of the treaty of Crespy, was
immediately made manifest; for he declared that the death
of the Duke had freed him from all his agreements re-
specting the Low Countries, or the Milanese.

The Count D'Enghien did not long survive the Duke ;
and the mind of Francis, already weakened by his long
and severe illness, sunk before the impression of these
calamitous events. Even an advantageous peace with
England did not mitigate his grief, and renew his energy ;
for it was more than counteibalanced by the enmity and
intrigues of his own mistress, the Duchess D'Estampes,
and of Diana de Poitiers, the mistress of the Dauphin,
who divided the court into open and implacable factions.
'I'he death of Henry of England, which happened in !S47,
also preyed on the mind of Francis, as he had long known
and personally loved that monarch. In this state of gWef

FRANCE.

231

and despondcncj", he waiulcretl abont from ])lacc to place,
in tlie vain liope of restoring his licalth of body, or re-
covering his tranquillity and firmness of mind ; at length
he died at Rambouillct, in the 53d year of his age, and 32d
of his reign.

The character of Francis was strongly marked. One
of the distinguishing features of his mind was prompti-
tude and decision : iiis quick perception and his great
activity, led him to resolve instantly, and to follow up his
resolutions by vigorous action; but he did not persevere ;
difficulties, which at first only prompted him to greater
efforts, if they were of long continuance, and especially
if they did not promise any thing splendid in their over-
coming, soon wearied him out. Thus he often abandon-
ed his first designs, and relaxed from his original vigour, —
often through itnpatience, and sometimes through mere
fickleness. His courage was undoubted; but it was rather
courage which could act than support; which rose above
the greatest dangers, if they called for activity and exertion,
but which cooled, if these dangers were to be shunned or
endured rather than overcome. He possessed wonderful
quickness and activity of mind, which often enabled him
to foresee and defeat the more secret plans of the Em-
peror ; but which, at other times, were rendered compara-
tively useless in this view, from the thoughtlessness of his
disposition and the warm sincerity of his heart. His mode
of carrying on war was stamped by the peculiarities of his
character. At the commencement of a campaign, he dart-
ed on his enemy with all his force, and endeavoured to at-
tain his object, by the decision and rapidity of his first
movements ; but he seldom had any regular and compre-
hensive plan of warfare, the consequence of which was,
that with whatever appearance of ultimate and permanent
success he commenced hostilities, he generally found him-
self, at the end of the campaign, in a much worse condition
than he had been at the beginning of it.

It will appear from this sketch, that his faults as a
sovereign were of that nature which seldom fail to cap-
tivate the multitude, as they all proceeded from a frank
disposition and a generous heart. Indeed his subjects
seem to have overlooked liis failings, and the consequences
on their tranquillity to which they gave rise, in the splen-
dour of his talents and amiable qualities. It may, perhaps,
be with strict justice asserted, that Francis is the first
gentleman, in the strict and most honourable sense of the
word, of wliom we have any record : there was a polish
about his manners, an amiableness about his more com-
mon actions and his mode of performing thorn, and a de-
licacy and strictness of honour about his whole conduct,
wjiich characterise the real gentleman. To the period of
his reign, therefore, we may justly trace those features in
• he character of the higher society in France, for which it
was so long and so justly celebrated in Europe. Anne of
Bretagne had begun to introduce ladies at court ; but it
was not till the reign of Francis that they appeared there
.-egularly, or tliat they were considered as an essential part
of it. The consequences were soon experienced; they in-
sensibly gave a softness and a polish to that rudeness of
manners, which the comparative ignorance and barbarism
of the age, as well as its martial habits, necessarily gene-
rated. To the reign of Francis, we may also trace that
spirit of intrigue, both political and personal, wliich long
distinguished the French court, equally with the polish of
their manners. In short, those who are desirous of de-
lecting the germ of many of the characteristics of the
manners of French high life, and of the maxims and prac-
tices of the court, such as they existed before the revolu-
iion, ought carefully to study the reign of Francis I.

It was during this period, that the religious disputes
Vol. IX. Paiit I.

commenced, which afterwards agitutcd France so gene-
rally, and gave rise to such long and bitter civil wars. Cal-
vin was a native of Noyon in Picaidy, and was protected
by Margaret of Navarre, sister of Francis : these circum'
stances had some induenco in causing his tenets to take
root and spread in France. But those who embraced them
soon became the objects of persecution. Francis at one
period (as has been alreaily mentioned) was desirous of
uniting himself with the Protestant Princes of Germany,
against the Emperor Charles ; but fearful of awakening
the indignation of the Roman pontiff, and the prejudices
of his people, by his negociations with avowed heretics, he
seized the first opportunity to prove the soundness of his
faith, by ordering six of his subjects, who had embraced
the Protestant religion, to be publicly burnt ; he himself
being present at the execution, and declaring, with his
usual and characteristic vehemence, that if one of his
hands were infected with heresy he would cut it off with
the other, and would not spare even his own children if
found guilty of that crime. Even before the time of Cal-
vin, it appears that the French had imbibed the reformed
religion ; for the inhabitants of Cabricres and Merindol,
small towns in Provence, followed the opinions of the
VValdenses ; and on this account the Parliament of Pro-
vence issued against them a decree, so barbarous and cruel,
that the execution of it was suspended by orders from the
court. But some years afterwards, in 1545, from whsrt
cause is not known, it was carried into execution by the
Cardinal de Tournon, a man of a most cruel and bigotted
disposition. At this period, pait of the French army was
returning from Italy ; and these were employed against
the defenceless inhabitants of Cjbrieres and Merindol,
3000 of whom, without distinction of age or sex, are said
to have been massacred. Nor was this barbarous work
confined to these places ; twenty-two other villages or
towns were reduced to ashes, in the vain hope of utterly
extirpating the heresy.

When Henry II. son of Francis I. mounted the throne,
he was 29 years of age. One of the last and most urgent
commands or requests of the dying Francis to his son
was, that he should never recal the Constable Montmo-
rency, and that he should, by all means in his power, re-
press the ambition of the family of Guise. Henry, how-
ever, was inattentive to the injunctions of his dying father.
The Constable Montmorency was recalled and loaded with
honours ; and the house of Guise were entrusted with his
confidence. Henry did not long remain faithful to his wife
Catherine of Medicis ; indeed it would appear, that at this
period she either did not possess, or exercise, those qua-
lities and seducing arts for which she afterwards became
so famous; since her husband deserted her, and gave him-
self up, a blind and williiig slave, to Diana de Poitiers,
whom he created Duchess de Valentinois, though she was
20 years older than himself.

Before Henry had ascended the throne, his Queen had
brought him a son, who was named Francis. In 1548, on
the death of James V. of Scotland, Mary his daughter,
then an infant, succeeded to the throne of that kingdom.
Taking advantage of this circumstance, the ministers of
England endeavoured, by force of arms, to obtain for Ed-
ward VI. the hand of the infant Queen of Scotland. This
the ministers of Mary resisted, and the King of France
sent a powerful army to the support of his ancient allies.
In return for this assistance, the Scotch entrusted their
Queen to the French admiral, on his return to France ;
and soon after her arrival in Paris, she was betrothed to
the Dauphin.

In 1 549, a dangerous rebellion broke out in the province
of Guicnne ; and, as Montmorency and the Duke of Guise

282

FRANCE.

were the most cotifidential ministers of the King, tlicy were
dispatched to cjueli it. Their conduct on this occasion
was diametrically opposite: the conslHble endeavoured to
repress the rebellion by the most violent and cruel mea-
sures; while, on the contrary, the Dukeol'fiuise reclaim-
ed the insurgcnls by his conciliating address, and lenient
measures. To this line of conduct, he was probably led,
by that ambition which afterwards so decidedly mai'kcd
the character of his family. To obtain the objects of this
ambition, it was necessary that they should become po-
pular; and the Dvike, by his measures in Guicnne, un-
doubtedly acfjuired great popularity. The reformed re-
ligion at this time was making certain, though not very
rapid progress in some parts of France. The King was
naturally of a mild temper, and a humane disjjosition ; but
these qualities were not sufTiciently strong or enlightened,
to withstand the blind and intemperate zeal of the age ; and
Henry commanded a number of proselytes to the new doc-
trines to be burnt in his presence.

The following year, Henry, by the advice of his minis-
ters, directed his attention to the recovery of Boulogne
from the English. It is not improbable, that if he had
gone to war with this object, he might have been success-
ful, as the English councils, during the short reign of Ed-
ward VI. were weak and distracted ; but this very circum-
stance induced him to hope, that, by means of negociation,
he should succeed with even more certainty, and with
much less expence and trouble. He accordingly opened
a negociation with the ministers of Edward for the resto-
ration of Boulogne ; and on his offering 400,000 crowns,
they immediately accepted it, and surrendered this im-
portant place. A formal peace was soon afterwards con-
cluded between France and England, in which Scotland
was included.

It was scarcely to be imagined, that the long and ar-
duous struggles in which Francis I. l-.ad been engaged
with the Emperor Charles V. should not have made an
impression on the mind of Henry, and led him to regard
that monarch almost as his hereditary and natural enemy.
His personal feeling was strengthened and confirmed by
political motives and viev^s. The treaty of Crespy could
not be regarded as advantageous or honourable to France.
The only provision in it, which in the smallest degree bore
this appearance, related to the Duke of Orleans ; and even
had he survived, and had Charles fulfilled this provision
respecting him, the crown of France could only have been
indirectly benefited: but there was too much reason to
suspect, that Charles never intended to fulfil this part of
the treaty, and at any rate, by the death of the Duke of
Orleans, he publicly declared, that he was no longer bound
by it. Henry, therefore, considering the treaty of Crespy
as injurious to his interest, was not sorry that Charles, by
refusing on the plea of the Duke of Orleans, to fulfil his
part of it, had afforded him a very fair pretest openly to
protest against it. This he accordingly did, and imme-
diately afterward prepared for war. His great object was
the reconquest of the possessions which the French for-
merly held in Italy; and the state of that country filled
him with the hope, that he should attain that object. The
duchy of Parma had been given to Octavio Farnese, the
grandson of Pope Paul III.'; and Julius III. on his acces-
sion to the apostolical tiirone, had at first confirmed him
in the possession of it. But he withdrew his support, and
revoked his grant, as soon as Gonzaga, governor of Milan,
J. sworn enemy of the house of Farnese, prepared, by per-
mission of the Emperor, to make himself master of Par-
ma. In this critical emergency, Octavio applied to Henry,
as the only prince powerful enough to protect him against
Charles, and at the same time disposed, both from his

antipathy to Charles, and his anxiety to re-establish him-
self in Italy, to allord him support. Henry, having not
only settled his own domestic concerns, but brought his
transactions with the two Biitish kingdoms to such an
issue as he desired, was at complete leisure to pursue the
measures, which his hereditary jealousy of the Emperor's
power naturally suggested. He accordingly listened to
the overtures of Octavio; and, glad of an opportunity of
gaining a footing in Italy, furnished him with what assis-
tance he desired. The army which Henry sent into Italy,
was commanded by the Marshal Brissac. The imperial
troops were under Gonzaga. Still, however, the two
monarchs issued no declaration of war, but, on the con-
trary, affected to maintain inviolably the treaty of Crespy.
The war of Parma, as it is called, was distinguished by no
memorable event. The army of France ravaged part of
the ecclesiastical territories, while the Imperialists pene-
trated to the gates of Parma ; but they were obliged to
relinquish the siege of that city with disgrace.

At this period, the council of Trent was summoned to
meet ; but the alarm occasioned in Italy by the war, pre-
vented most of the Italian prelates from repairing to it
on the day appointed, so that the legate and nuncios found
it necessary to adjourn to a future day, hoping that such
a number would then assemble, as would enable them to
begin their deliberations. When that day came, the
French ambassador demanded audience, and protested, in
his master's name, against an assembly, called at such an
improper juncture, when a war, wantonly kindled by the
Pope, made it impossible for the deputies from the Galli-
can church to resort to Trent in safety, or to deliberate
concerning articles of faith and discipline with the requi-
site tranquillity. He declared, that Henry did not acknow-
ledge this to be a general cecumenic council, but must
consider and would treat it as a particular and partial con-
vention. The legate, however, affected to despise the
protest of the King of France; the prelates proceeded to
deteimine the great points in controversy ; and the Em-
peror, by his authority and countenance, endeavoured to
establish the competency and jurisdiction of the assembly.
It is unnecessary here to particularize the proceedings of
the council of Trent. They were so directly against the
Protestants, that Maurice of Saxony, and the other Luthe-
ran princes, who, under the promise of liberty of con-
science, and other advantages, liad been induced to assist
the Emperor against the confederates of Smalkalde, were
now made sensible that they had been duped by him, and
that by their own force alone, could they expect to pre-
serve the religion which they had embraced, from perse-
cution and probable ruin. But Maurice, who, from his
superior talents, as well as his superior power, took the
lead among the Lutheran princes, was fully convinced, by
his knowledge of the character of the Emperor, that it
would be absolutely necessary to proceed with tlie utmost
degree of circumspection and caution, so as to excite no
suspicion, till all his measures were taken, and his scheme
was completely ready to be carried into full execution. By
his former conduct he had lost, in a great measure, the
good will and confidence of the Protestants. These it was
necessary for him to regain ; but while he was regaining
them, it was equally desirable and necessary, though still
more difficult, to retain the good will and confidence of
the Emperor. In the execution of his entcrprize he suc-
ceeded most thoroughly, conducting an intricate plan of
policy in such a manner, as to deceive the most artful,
experienced, and suspicious prince in Europe. Having
negociated a new confederacy of the Protestants, of which
he was appointed the head, it became necessary to strength-
en that confederacy by every means in his power. With

FRANCE.

283

this view, Maurice turned his thoughts to the King of
France. There could be no doubt that Henry would most
chearfully embrace any plan, the object of which was to
curtail the power and influence of the Emperor, provided
his religious opinions did not create an objection. These,
therefore, it was necessary to consider in the ncgociation.
It was also necessary for Maurice to anticipate and obviate
any scruples or jealousies, which the Protestant princes
of Germany might feel on forming an alliance with a
prince, who was not only a Catholic, but who had already
persecuted the reformed religion in his dominions. The
repugnance and scruples of both parties, however, were
overcome by the wisdom and policy of Maurice ; and a
treaty was concluded between Henry and the Protestant
confederation.

As soon as the preparations of Maurice were completed,
and he had assembled his army, amounting to 25,000 men,
he published a manifesto, containing his reasons for taking
arms ; to secure the Protestant religion ; to maintain the
constitution of Germany ; and to deliver the Landgrave of
Hesse from his protracted and unjust imprisonment. To
this the King of France, in his own name, added a manifesto,
in which he assumed the extraordinary appellation of" Pro-
tector of the liberties of Germany, and its captive princes."

As the Emperor was totally unsuspicious of the inten-
tions, and uninformed of the hostile preparations of the Pro-
testant confederates, and of Henry, he was not in a condi-
tion to oppose such formidable enemies. Lorraine was im-
mediately invaded by the French armies. The young Duke
Charles, the nephew of the Emperor, was seized. Toul,
Verdun, and Metz, were occupied. Nor was Charles, even
after his first surprize, able to oppose the conquest of Lor-
raine by the French ; for, while they were thus rapid and
successful in this quarter, Maurice marched directly to-
wards Inspruck, where the Emperor was, hoping to sur-
prise him in that open town. But in this he was disappoint-
ed, as Charles, informed of his danger a few hours before
the arrival of the enemy, hastily fled ; nor did he stop till
he arrived at Villach in Carinthia.

Charles now found himself under the necessity of divid-
ing his enemies, in order to save himself from ruin. He
accordingly agreed that the king of the Romans should
meet Maurice at Passau, where, after considerable delay
and difticuhy, in the month of July 1552, the memorable
treaty of Passau was signed, by which the civil and eccle-
siastical independence of the German princes was secured.
In this treaty, however, the confederates totally overlooked
the services of Henry, and the union tiiey had formed witli
him. There appears, indeed, to have been some reason
for this forgelfulness of their ally; since his measures and
operations, though undoubtedly such as weakened Charles,
seemed too openly directed to his own aggrandizement,
even at the expence of the Germanic empire. For Henry
had endeavoured, by artifice, to possess himself of the city
of Strasburgh; and had he succeeded in his attempt, the
navigation of the Rhine would have fallen into his power.
But he was compelled to desist, by the interference of the
"German princes and the Swiss cantons.

As Metz, Toul, and Verdun, which Henry had con-
quered, formed the barrier of the empire on the side of
France, Charles was deeply affected by their loss; and as
soon as he had concluded the treaty of Passau, he resolv-
ed to employ the most vigorous and powerful measures for
their recovery. He therefore left his retreat at Villach,
and put himself at the head of the forces, which he had as-
sembled against the c-enfederates. This army amounted to
60,000 men. At first, in order to conceal his real object,
he circulated a report, that he intended to lead it into Hun-
gary against the Turks; and when the line of his march

unequivocally proved that such was not his intention, be
pretended that he was marching, in the first place, to chas-
tise Albert of Braiidcnburgh, who had refused to be includ-
ed in the treaty of Passau. Henry, however, was not de-
ceived ; but guessing at the true object of the emperor's
armament, he resolved vigorously to defend his conquests.
As it was easy to foresee that the reduction of Metz would
be the first object of the emperor, Henry resolved that it
should be defended in the best possible manner. He therefore
appointed to the command of it Francis of Lorraine, Duke
of Guise. No fitter man could possibly have been chosen
for this arduous enterprise. He was full of military ar-
dour and zeal ; anxious to distinguish himself, and to be
classed among the heroes of France; delighting in bold
enterprises, and aspiring after fame by splendid and extra-
ordinary actions. These qualities, however, had they not
been united with others more solid and useful, though not
so dazzling, would, nerhaps, have prevented his sovereign
from making choice of him on this occasion. But he was
no less distinguished for sagacity and presence of mind,
than for zeal and enthusiasm. To this nobleman the de-
fence of Metz was intrusted ; and he received the com-
mission with joy. His zeal and enthusiasm were hardly
necessary to induce many others of the French nobility to
ofier their services, so that Metz soon saw within its walls
some of the best blood of France, which, if necessary, would
be most chearfully shed to preserve it to the French king-
dom. As soon as the Duke of Guise entered the place,
he carefully examined it: it was of great extent, ill fortified,
and the suburbs large. These defects, therefore, it was
absolutely necessary immediately to remedy. For this pur-
pose, the Duke ordered the old fortifications to be repaired
with all possible expedition, even assisting and animating
the labourers by his example. The officers and soldiers
thus encouraged, chearfully submitted to the most severe
toil. After repairing the old fortifications, the Duke di-
rected his skill to the erection of new ones. The suburbs
were levelled to the ground, in order that they might not
favour or protect the approaches of the enemy ; and with
a similar object in view, he gave orders that the country,
for several miles round, should be laid waste. At the same
time, he filled the magazines with provisions and military
stores, and compelled all useless persons to leave the place;
yet such were his popular talents, and his power of ac-
quiring an ascendency over the minds of men, that the
citizens not only reliained from murmuring, but seconde<!
him, with no less ardour than his soldiers, in all his ope-
r.itions, even in the ruin of their estates, and in the de-
struction of their public and private buildings.

In the mean time, Albert of Brandenburgh entered Lor-
raine, with 20,000 men, seemingly with an intention to join
the French. The emperor, notwithstanding the vicinity of
this army, and the advanced season of the year, for it was
now the month of October, resolved to lay siege to Metz,
contrary to the advice of his most experienced offieers.
One of his first attempts was to secure the co-operation,
or at least the neutrality of Albert. This he effected, by
coming up to his price, and he joined the imperial army.
The emperor now Battered himself that Metz would be
soon reduced ; but he was most lamentably mistaken. The
winter set in with unusual rigour, in little more than a
month from the commencement of the siege. The impe-
rial camp was exiiosed to almost constant alternations of
snow and rain, which of course, produced disease even
among the hardy Germans; while tlie Spaniards and Ita-
lians, accustomed to more genial climates, were render-
ed still more sickly and ineffective. In vain the genei-als
and officers endeavoured to animate and rouse their men;
their exhortations, their threats, their example, scarcely
N n 3

284

FRANCE.

produced any effect. When Uicy wcic cidered to advance
to the assault, they rcnnuncd motionless and silent. Tho
emperor, blinded by his obstinacy to the cause of this con-
duct in his soldiers, retired to his tent, complaining that
he was deserted by them, and upbraiding them with dis-
affection or cowardice. In vain did his generals endea-
vour to persuade him to give up the hopeless and fatal
cnterprize ; in vain did they represent to him, that he was
his own enemy, in weakcnini^ and dispiriting that army,
which, though it was not e<|ual to the task of reducing
Metz, so defended, at such a season of the year, might
yet, if not totally destroyed in organization, strength and
spirit, be adequate to the atchievement of such conquests
as would compensate for the loss of Mctz, Charles was
still obstinate, even when he must have lost all hope ; nor
did he raise the siege, till after the lapse of 65 days, spent
in fruitless efforts, and after the loss of 35,000 men. Metz,
notwithstanding, was very near falling into his power, by
a conspiracy of monks. The superior of the cordeliers
of that city was a man of a bold and intriguing spirit, and
■warmly attached, either from habit, or principle, or inter-
est, to the cause of the emperor. This man, by his ad-
dress, had contrived to insinuate himself into the good
graces and confidence of the governor, and then treache-
rously formed a design to deliver up the town to the ene-
my. The monks of his monastery being privy to his plan,
he introduced into it a number of soldiers disguised as cor-
deliers, who were to open the gates to the garrison of Thion-
ville. The plot was so well concealed, that it was not dis-
covered or suspected till the very day on which it was to
be executed. On its discovery, the superior was condemn-
ed to death, with twenty of xbe monks. Before the sen-
tence was to be carried into cil'ect, the criminals were put
into a cell, for the purpose of confessing one another ; and
in this place they murdered the superior, and beat to deatli
five of their brethren, who had been chiefly instrumental
in seducing the rest.

When, at length, Charles found himself under the pain-
ful necessity of raising the siege of Metz, A. D. 1553, his
army resembled rather an assemblage of worn out, diseas-
ed, and undisciplined people, than those troops which he
had always been accustomed to bring into the field, and
with which he had advanced against this place. He was
compelled to abandon a large proportion, who were utterly
unable to keep up witii the main body, on account of their
debility; while others, no longer under discipline, fell be-
hind, either for the purpose of plunder, or to throw them-
selves into the hands of the enemy, from whom they ex-
pected the infliction of less misery than they had suffered
during this unfortunate siege. Under these circumstances,
the Duke of Guise might easily and safely have increased
the disorder and the loss — perhaps have pressed on, almost
to utter destruction, the army of his opponent : but either
from motives of policy, or from the influence of luunanity,
he did not take all the possible advantages of his success.
On the contrary, his attention and care were almost exclu-
sively directed to heal the wounded, and restore the famish-
ed ; and those who recovered he sent home, under a safe
escort, and with money to bear their charges ; so that the
courage and skill which he had displayed during the siege
were paralleled, if not exceeded, by his humane treatment
of his prisoners.

The misfortunes of the emperor were not confined to
Germany. In Italy, the Sicnese threw off the imperial
yoke ; and the fleets of Solyman, the ally of the King of
France, struck consternation into the city of Naples ; so
that, had the latter been abk to have invaded Italy at this

juncture, it is probable he might have regained his footini^
in that country.

The disgrace which his army had suffered before Mctz,
sunk deeply into the bosom of Charles; and he icsolved
to wipe it away by a most powerful effort. For this pur-
pose he invaded France, with a numerous and well ap-
pointed army, and laid siege to Terouane, the tortilications
of which were out of repair. It was, however, defended
with great courage by D'Esse ; but after his death, the
Imperialists pressed the siege with increased vigour, and
it was soon taken by assault. Charles immediately order-
ed the fortifications to be rased, and the inhabitants to be
sent into the neighbouring towns. He then hastened his
army, which he had placed under the command of Emanu-
el Philebert, the Duke of Savoy, towards Hesden, which
was also carried by assault, though Henry himself, with a
strong force, advanced to its relief. Charles, however,
carefully avoided an engagement; notwithstanding the
I'rcnch threatened to lay siege to Cambray, and the latter
were under the necessity of retiring without accomplish-
ing the object for which they had advanced.

In A. D. 1554, Henry beheld his rival's power, already
too powerful for the repose of France, still farther aug-
mented, by tiie marriage of his son Philip with Mary of
England. Hut this event only served to increase the jea-
lously, without intimidating the King of France. He im-
mediately augmented his forces, and resolved, by carrying
on the war in Italy and the Low Countries at the same tinne,
to compel the emperor to listen to eC|Uitablc terms of peace,
before the English sent any large reinforcements to hini.
Three large armies were accordingly equipped, with which
he invaded and laid waste the provir.cesof Hainault, Liege,
and Artois, reduced Marienburgh, took Dinant and Bou-
vines by assault, and invested Ronti. Charles was noty
broken down by years, fatigue and illness; yet, on hearing
of the rapid march of the French, he put himself at the
head of his army, and advanced to the relief of Ronti.
Henry did not avoid the conflict ; an obstinate skirmish took
place. The imperial army suffered the loss of a consider-
able number of men and artillery. The Duke of Guise
behaved in a manner worthy his reputation ; and had the
constable Montmorency acted with skill, vigour, activity,
and courage, it is highly probable that the imperial army
would have been completely routed ; but tlie latter was
jealous of the talents and fame of the Duke, and, influ-
enced by these dishonourable motives, he would not second
his eftorts. The consequences were, not only that the im-
perial army escaped with compaiatively little loss, but the
French themselves were soon afterwards under the neces-
sity of retiring. Charles was not slow in taking advantage
of these circumstances. Immediately on the retreat of his
opponents, he entered Picardy, where he retaliated the rav-
ages which the French had committed in Hainault, ArtOiS
and Liege.

In Italy, the French were equally unfortunate: their
army there was placed under the command of Strozzi, a
Florentine exile, who v.as defeated with the loss of 4000
men, in the battle of Marciano, by the Marquis de Msi.
rignano, general to Cosmo de Medicis. The Imperialists,.
fuUy sensible of the advantages that might be reaped from
this defeat, immediately laid siege to Siena, which was
garrisoned by French troops, under the command of Mont-
luc. This commander did all in his power to protract the
loss of the place; for 10 months he defended it with the
greatest gallantry ; nor is it likely that it would ultimately
have fallen, had it not been for th?, ravages which famine
cotnmilted among the garrison. . TJie Imperialists did jus-

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285

tice to the valour of the besieged, in the terms which they
granted to them, Montluc, with his French troops, being
allowed to march out with all the honours of war.

In Piedmont, Henry was more successful. His army
there was under the command of the Marshal Braisac,
who was opposed to tiie Duke of Alva. NotwithstancUng
the great talents of his rival, and the equally discouraging
circunistance, that his troops were inferior in numbers to
the Imperialists, he not only baffled the Duke, who had
boasted that he would soon compel him to retreat into
France, but he even penetrated into that part of the coun-
try which the emperor had hitherto preserved ; and, in all
probability, would have extended his incursions farther,
had not the jealousy of the Guises and the Constable
Montmorency operated in cutting off his supplies.

About this period the emperor had come to the deter-
mination of abandoning his throne, and spending the re-
mainder of his days in retirement. To this determination
he was probably led by witnessing the decline of his military
glory, and by having felt the weight of age and disease.
He was also disappointed in the death of Pope Julius III.
and the election of Cardinal Caraffa to the pontifical throne.
The new pontiff, who assumed the name of Paul IV. im-
mediately demanded the protection of the French, affirmed
the investiture of Naples to Henry, and used every endea-
vour to negotiate a strict alliance with him. This alarmed
Charles, and probably hastened his resolution to resign his
dominions. Before, therefore, he left the Low Countries
for Spain, which he had fixed upon as the place of his
retreat, he took some steps towards a peace with France.
The great bar against such a pacification, on the part of
France, was the treaty which Henry had just concluded
with the court of Rome. An expedient was therefore pro-
posed of terminating their hostilities by a truce for five
years, during which period, without discussing their re-
spective pretensions, each should retain what was in his
possession. Still, however, Henry was embarrassed by
Ins treaty with the Pope ; but the Constable Montmorency
represented to him the imprudence and injustice of sacri-
ficing the undoubted and real interests of his country to
any rash engagements into which he might have entered ;
and this representation, with an express stipulation that the
Roman poniilf should be included in the truce, removed
the doubts and scruples of the French monarch.

As soon as Paul IV. was informed of the truce between
Charles and Henry, terror and astonishment, mixed with
rage and indignation, took possession of his breast; but it
was necessary to conceal his emotions and feelings, as the
Duke ot Alva was already encamped on the frontiers of
the ecclesiastical territories. Paul, therefore, in order to
avert the inmiediate danger, affected highly to approve of
the truce, and he even offered his mediation in order to
bring about a permanent peace. Under this pretence, he
sent Cardinal Rebiba, as his nuncio, to the court of Brus-
sels ; and his own nephew. Cardinal Caraffa, to Paris. To
these were given private as well as public instructions: the
latter, of course, were entirely pacific, and answering to
his professions and avowed wishes ; while, by the former,
Cardinal Rebiba was dii-ected to protract his negociation
as long as possible ; and Cardinal Caraffa was empowered
to urge the King of France to renounce the treaty, or to
el(ide its. engagements, and to renew his alliance with the
court of Rome. The Cardinal was by no means unac-
quainted with the feeble and yielding parts of Henry's cha-
racter: he knew that he was entirely under the guidance
and influence of his queen, the Guises, and his mistress
Diaija of Poitiers: to these, therefore, he applied; and

having gained them by his address, they easily swayed the
king, who already leaned to tjiat side towards which they
wished him to incline, his own genius, warlike and enter-
prising, his habits and his hopes, that the successor of
Charles would be u less formidable rival, strongly urging
him again to try the fate of war. The only person of
consequence in the French court, who opposed the mea-
sures of the Cardinal, the influence of the Guises, the
queen, and Henry's mistress, and the secret wishes of the
monarch himself, was Montmorency ; but his efforts and
remonstrances were unavailing. The nuncio, by powers
from Rome, absolved Henry from his oath, and lie signed
a new league with the Pope.

Paul, as soon as he learnt the success of his intrigues,
immediately threw off the mask, and no longer professed
himself the friend of peace, or the mediator between the
monarchs ; on the contrary, he ordered the Spanish am-
bassador to be imprisoned ; he excommunicated the Colon-
nas, because they were attached to the cause of Philip ;
and when that monarch received this noble family in his
dominions, the Pope proclaimed him guilty of high trea-
son, and to have forfeited his right to the kingdom of Na-
ples, which he was supposed to hold of the Holy See.
Against those proceedings of the sovereign pontiff, the
superstitious education of Philip at first prevented him
from proceeding in the manner in which a regard to his
own dignity, and to the interests of his kingdom, impe-
riously demanded ; but as the arrogance and hostility of
the Pope were only augmented by the moderation and su-
perstitious reverence which Philip displayed, that monarch
at length resolved to adopt a more vigorous and determined
line of conduct ; and the Duke of Alva was commanded to
enter the ecclesiastical territories. No sooner had the light
troops of his army reached the gates of Rome, than Paul
proposed a cessation of arms. To this, Alva consented ;
and a truce, first for 10, and then for 40 days, was conclu-
ded.

Henry entered on the new war with great alacrity and
vigour. A numerous army, well appointed, was placed
under the command of the IDuke of Guise, who was or-
dered to lose no time in crossing the Alps, and advancing
into Italy. This he accordingly did, A. D. 1557. As soon
as the Pope heard of the advance of this powerful army,
he threv/ aside all disguise ; breathed nothing but war and
revenge; and became more arrogant than ever. He pro-
bably would not so soon have displayed his real character
and wishes, had not the Duke of Alva judged it prudent
to leave the papal territories, and advance to the protec-
tion of Naples, against which it was supposed the Duke of
Guise would direct his more immediate and principal ef-
forts. But the latter, tliough he had been eager for the
war, and hoped to measure his talents against the Spanish
commander, soon found that he should be able to atchieve
nothing of importance. The Pope, though so indignant
against Philip, had neglected to raise both the pecuniary
and military aids, with which he had engaged to supply
the French when they entered Italy, and the Italian states
either preserved a strict neutrality, or openly declared for
the King of Spain. The Duke of Guise, however, ad-
vanced into Italy, and laid siege to Civitella, a town on
the frontiers of that kingdom ; but the Spaniards soon
rendered it necessary for him to abandon this enterprize,
by threatening Rome, to the defence of which he proceed-
ed with a fatigued and dispirited army. Here he in vain
endeavoured to bring the Duke of Alva to an engagement ;
but the latter perceiving the ravages wtiich fatigue and
disease were making among the French, carefully avoid-

286

FRANCE.

e<l a battle; and at last the Duke of Guise, mortified and
disappointed, begged to be recalled.

No sooner had Philip learnt that the King of France
had been induced, by the intrigues of the Pope, to break
the truce, than he resolved to p'enetrate into that kingdom,
and by one vigorous efl'ort to convince Henry that he was
not to be thus treated with impunity. Witii this object in
view, he assembled in the Netherlands a body of 50,000
men. He exerted his influence over his consort, Mary of
England, so successfully, that, notwithstanding the repug-
nance of her subjects, she declared war against France,
and sent 10,000 men to assist his projects against that
country ; and he gave the command of his army to Ema-
nuel Philibcrt, Duke of Savoy, one of the greatest gene-
rals of tliat age. Philip himself fixed his head-cjuarters
at Cambray, while the Duke, after having kept the French
for a considerable time in utter ignorance of his views and
destination — threatening Champagne till he succeeded in
drawing all their troops in that direction — suddenly march-
ed to tiie right, and invested St Quintin in Picardy. This
was a place of considerable strength, but its fortifications
had not recently been put in a state of repair, and a large
portion of Its garrison had been drawn ofl" towards Cham-
pagne. It is probable, therefore, that it must soon have
surrendered, had not Admiral Coligny taken the gallant
resolution of throwing himself into it, with such troops as
he could suddenly collect for that purpose. This he ac-
complished, notwithstanding all the circumspection and
efforts of the enemy, breaking through their main body
with 700 horse and 200 foot. To this hazardous step the
admiral was probably incited, from the consideration that
the town was within his own immediate jurisdiction.
Henry was fully sensible of the importance of preserv-
ing it, as, if the enemy succeeded in taking it, the road
to Paris was nearly quite open to them. He therefore
hastily assembled a small body of troops, not half the
number of the army which was besieging it, and gave
the command of them to the Constable Montmorency.

This general had hitherto been distinguished, not less
by his prudence and caution, than by his skill and bravery.
On this occasion, however, anxious to extricate his ne-
phew, he conducted himself with fatal rashness. At first,
indeed, his attempt to relieve the town was attended with
success, for, by approaching the camp of the enemy, the
brother of Coligny, with 500 troops, was enabled to force
his entrance into the town. Here, however, his success
ended ; for, in the execution of this design, Montmorency
had drawn too near the entrenchments of the besiegers.
The Duke of Savoy, always on the alert, took advantage
of this circumstance; and, as soon as the French general
began to retire, he pressed on him with superior numbers.
In vain did Montmorency use his utmost endeavours to
keep his men firm and in order. The Count Egmont, at
the head of the Duke of Savoy's cavalry, made a furious
charge, which the French could not withstand ; their ranks
were broken ; and their men at arms, who had hitherto
displayed the most cool and determined courage in the
midst of the most imminent danger, sought shelter in a
precipitate and disorderly flight. As soon as the horse
gave way, the foot, who had depended on them for sup-
port and protection, wavered. A second charge decided
their fate ; they also fled in the utmost terror and confu-
sion. Above 4000 perished in the field ; and the Consta-
Ijle himself after in vain endeavouring, by his example
and exhortations, to reanimate his troops, and to put a
stop to their flight, having received a dangerous wound,
■Was made prisoner, along with the Dukes of Montpensier
and I.onguevilli", and tlic Marshal St Andre.

Such was the result of the famous battle of St Quintin,
which was fought on the 10th of August 15 57. The in-
telligence of it spread consternation and terror through
France, almost to as great a degree as the battles of Cressy
and Agincourt. Already it was apprehended that the enemy
were approaching Paris; the inhabitants of which prepared
to quit it. In this period of general dismay, the firmness
and presence of mind of Henry were conspicuous, and
highly beneficial. He betrayed no alarm; he refused to
admit the idea of danger ; on the contrary, he exerted him-
self to repair the loss which he had sustained, by the most
prompt and vigorous measures. The Duke of Guise was
instantly recalled from Italy; the assistance of the Grand
Signior was solicited ; the Scots were incited to invade the
North of England, for the purpose of drawing off the Eng-
lish troops to the protection of their own territory. The
ban and arrierban of the frontier provinces were called out ;
and, in short, every measure was taken which could ope-
rate towards the weakening or distraction of Philip's forces,
or the protection of France. When we consider, however,
the power of Philip, the consternation which pervaded
France, and the great loss which she had sustained in the
battle of St Quintin, it may well be doubted whether all
these precautions and efforts would have been availing,
had Philip pursued with alacrity and vigour the advanta-
ges which he had gained. But he refused to listen to the
advice of the Duke of Savoy, who strongly and wisely
urged, that, overlooking all inferior and intermediate ob-
jects, they should march without the smallest delay, by
the shortest route to Paris. The cautious temper of Philip,
afraid of committing his forces in the heart of France, with-
out a single place to retreat to in case of disaster, strongly
objected to this plan ; and he asked the opinion of his other
generals. They, easily ascertaining how their monarch
was inclined, recommended that the siege of St Quintin
should be continued, which it was supposed, could not
now hold out many days. In this expectation they were
disappointed. Coligny, fully sensible that the fate of France
probably depended on his holding out till Henry had pre-
pared sufficient means to oppose the progress of the enemy
towards Paris, put forth in a most wonderful and success-
ful manner, all the resources of his great talents and long
experience. For 17 days, he baffled the repeated assaults
of the Spaniards, English, and Flemings; at length, over-
whelmed by superior numbers, the town was carried by
storm, and Coligny himself was taken prisoner on the
breach. St Quintin was thus taken ; but by this time it
was no longer prudent to advance into France, and Philip
became sensible that he had lost an opportunity that could
never be recalled : he therefore contented himself with
reducing the petty towns of Horn, Catelet, and Noyon,
which, with St Quintin, were the sole fruits of one of the
most decisive victories which had been gained in the 16th
century.

The earliest account of the fatal blow which France re-
ceived at the battle of St Quintin, was carried to Rome by
the courier whom Henry dispatched to recal the Duke of
Guise. In vain the Pope remonstrated against the de-
parture of the French ; the orders sent to the Duke were
peremptory, and admitted of neither modification nor de-
lay. Paul, therefore, was obliged to have recourse to the
influence that he knew he possessed, from his character
and situation over the mind of Philip, in order to avert
the danger to which he was exposed ; and so well did he
work on the superstition of the Spanish monarch, that, on
his agreeing to renounce his league with Henry, Philip,
on his part, stipulated that the Duke of Alva, the proud-
est man of his time, should repair in person to Rome, and

FRANCIS.

i87

after asking pardon of the Holy Father in liis own name,
and in that of his master, for having invaded the patiimony
of the churcli, should receive absoluiion for that criiiie.
On the very day on which the duke of Alva made this hu-
miliating submission to the Pope, the Duke of Guise left
Rome on his return to France. H«re he was received as
a protecting angel, and immediately appointed lieutenant-
general of the kingdom. The army which was placed
under his command, was numerous and well appointed,
reinforcements having arrived from Germany and Switzer-
land, and the new levies pouring in from different parts of
France. The troops partook of their general's wish and
determination to wipe off the disgrace, which their coun-
try had suffered from the defeat of St Quintin ; but the
Duke of Guise kept his plan a profound secret. He put
liis army in motion in the middle of winter, and at first
menaced the frontier towns of Flanders ; thus, having de-
ceived the enemy by false marches, he suddenly laid siege
to Calais. Tfiis place, for upwards of 200 years, had af-
forded the English an open passage into France. Not-
withstanding its importance in this point of view, and that
it was the only town which the English retainetj of their
ancient and extensive territories in this kingdom, they
usually withdrew almost the whole garrison at the end of
autumn, and the ministers of Mary had greatly neglected
the works. Some of them, indeed, were so confident as
to say, that if Calais were attacked during the winter, they
would undertake to defend it with their white rods. The
Duke of Guise, aware of the badness of its fortifications,
and the inadequacy of its garrison, suddenly invested it,
drove the English from the forts which protected it, and
in eight days made himself master of a place which Ed-
ward III. could not take in less time than 1 1 months.
Henry, in order to secure this important conquest, expel-
led the English inhabitants, and enticed his own subjects
to settle there, by granting them several important privi-
leges and immunities.

In the spring of 1558, the Duke of Guise advanced
against Thionville, which capitulated after a siege of three
weeks. In the mean time, the Marshal de Termes, who
liad been appointed governor of Calais, penetrated into
Flanders, stormed Dunkirk, and advanced aguinst Nieu-
port. ^^ylile he was before this place, the Covint of Eg-
mont approached to its relief. De Termes was not only
inferior in numbers to his opponent, but he was also en-
cumbered with liis spoils ; he therefore resolved to retreat,
but the latter circumstance rendered his retreat slow and
difficult. The Count of Egmont, on the contrary, pur-
sued, with very great activity, and overtook the French
near Gravelincs. De Termes finding a battle unavoida-
ble, prepared to defend himself with great courage. For
some time, notwithstanding the great disparity of the
forces, victory was doubtful ; till at last chance, on this, as
on many other occasions, decided the fate of arms. A
squadron of English vessels, which chanced to be ofl' the
coast, on hearing the cannon, entered the river Aa, and
turned their guns upon the right wing of the French army,
which were dispirited by this unexpected circumstance,
while the Flemings were equally encouraged. The for-
mer fled in great disorder ; about 2000 were killed on the
Seld of battle ; a greater number in their flight were put
to death by the peasantry ; and the general, with a num-
ber of oflicers of disiiuction, was taken prisoner. This
disaster obliged the Duke of Guise to relinquish all his
other schemes, and to hasten to the frontiers of Picardy,
to oppose the progress of the enemy. About the same
time, the Duke of Savoy eifccted a junction with the
troops under the Count pf Egmont. As soon as these
junctions were respectively formed, Philip and Henry put

themselves at the head of ihcir aimics, cat h commandinfj
about 40,000 men ; and being encamped at the distance of
a very few leagues, an awful and decisive crisis seemed
approaching. But both the monarchs were weary of war;
it had answered the expectations of neither, while, for half
a century, it had exhaubted llieir respective kins^doms.
Philip was anxious to visit Spain ; and therefore was dis-
posed to libtL-n to pacific overtures. The motives and ob-
jects which inclined Henry to meet the views of Philip
were more complicated. He was eager to put a stop to
the progress of heresy in France. His niistress, the
Dutchess of Valentinois, had long regarded, wiili disgust
and displeasure, the haughtiness of the Duke of Guise,
and of his brother the Cardinal of Lorraine ; and, above
all things, wished to oppose their measures, and diminish
their influence and popularity. This she could not expect
to accomplish, so long as the Duke had an opportunity of
adding to his military fame. Peace, therefore, she was
bent on bringing about; and, by her persuasion, Mont-
morency, who was eager to regain his liberty, undertook
the intricate and difficult negociation, and the Abbey of
Cercamp was fixed upon as the place of congress ; the
conferences were afterwards removed to Chateau Cam-
bresis, where, in 1539, a definitive treaty was signed. By
this treaty, France restored to the Duke of Savoy the ter-
ritories which she had taken from him in Piedmont, Savoy,
and Bresse. Corsica was given up to the Genoese. Hes-
den, Catelet, and Noyon, were restored to the French, v/ho
were also suff"ered to retain Calais, Metz, Toul, and Ver-
dun. A separate treaty was, at the same time, signed be-
tween the King of France and Elizabeth, who now sate on
the throne of England, by which the former engaged, at
the expiration of eight years, either to deliver up Calais,
or to forfeit the sum of 500,000 crowns.

In order to facilitate and hasten the conclusion of peace
between Spain and France, the Constable Montmorency
negociated two treaties of marriage ; one between Eliza-
beth, the eldest daughter of Henry, and Philip ; the other
between Margaret, Henry's eldest sister, and the Duke of
Savoy. The part which Montmorency took in all these
arrangements, gave him great weight with the king ; while,
on the other hand, the family of the Guises, fully sensible
that their influence was on the decline, and that, during a
period of peace, they would possess no opportunity of com-
pensating for the diminution of this influence, by gaining
military renown, and increasing their influence with the
nation, arraigned the treaty in the most open and indecent
manner, as dishonourable and disadvantageous to France.
But Henry attended not to their complaints ; he was too
much occupied, either with the Duchess of Valentinois,
who continued to countenance and support Montmorency,
or with taking measures for the suppression of heresy.
Among the most illustrious proselytes to the doctrines of
Calvin, was D'Andelot, the brother of Coligny, and the
nephew of the Constable. So deeply impressed was he
with the truth and importance of the opinions that he had
embraced, that he dared to avow them in the presence of
his sovereign. He was immediately deprived of his post
of general of French infantry, committed to close confine-
ment, and restored to liberty only on submission, and
through the entreaties of his uncle. So bigotted and blind
was the zeal of this monarch, that he attempted a prosecu-
tion of the Duchess of Ferrara, daughter of Louis XII.
who granted an asylum in her court to the literati, who
were tinctured with heterodoxy; ordered the judges to
cause all to be arrested as heretics, v/ho should solicit
them in favour of those who were condemned to death
on account of their religious opinions ; and denounced
throughout the capital and the different provinces, his

288

FRANCE.

firm clelcrmination to root out heresy by the most severe
and violent persecution.

But llitsc ])lans of llciiiy were liappily interrupted by
his dcatli. The Duke of Savoy liad arrived at Paris to
espouse tlic king's sister. Jousts and tournaments were
ordered on this occasion : in these dant^c'ous exercises
Henry excelled. After having liroken many lances with
success, on the last day he was desirous of breaking a
lance with the Count dc Montgomcri. The shock was
rude on each side ; but the count's lance breaking against
the helmet of tlic count, tlie latter attacked Henry with
the stump, which entering his eye, the monarch fell sense-
less on the ground. He remained in a state of insen-
sibility for eleven days, and tlicn expired, in the 16th year
of his reign, and 45lh of his age. Uy his queen, Catharine
of Medicis, he left four sons ; Francis, who had been mar-
ried, a few years before his father's death, to Mary queen
of Scotland ; Charles, Alexander, and Hercules. The
names of the two last were afterwards changed to those of
Henry and Francis. He also left three daughters ; Eliza-
beth, queen of Spain ; Claude, duchess of Lorraine ; and
Marguerette, who was first queen of Navarre, and after-
wards queen of France. In some respects, the character
of Henry resembled that of his father : like him, he was
courteous, open, unsuspicious, and beneficent ; fond of
pleasure ; handsome in his person, and accomplished in
the martial exercises of the age ; but he possessed not
either the capacity or the discernment which distinguished
Francis ; and he was naturally so tractable and yielding,
that he was almost constantly under the guidance of his
iiivourites.

Francis H. was only 16 years of age when he ascended
the throne of France. His mind and body were alike
feeble, so that he was completely under the influence of
those who surrounded him. Unfortunately there were
about him persons not more remarkable for their talents,
than from their intrigues, ambition, and vices. His mother,
Catherine of Medicis, was a woman, bold, enterprising,
sagacious ; whose firnmess and presence of mind were
never awed or disconcerted by the most formidable or un-
expected dangers. Her penetration was equally remarka-
ble ; and it was accompanied by a greater degree of com-
prehension than usually attends that quality. Thus pow-
erful in her mental endowments, she was not less distin-
guished by her manners. When her interest, or particular
circumstances, required it, she could be mild and insinuat-
ing ; and she often appeared to gain her point, by court-
ing those from whom she expected any favour or sacrifice,
when in fact they were the dupes of her superior artifice,
or actually bent before her commanding powers of mind.
Her disposition was magnificent, her profusion excessive;
but she was magnificent and profuse only to answer her
own purposes, which, however, had frequently all the
characteristics of greatness, except justice. Of the arts
and sciences, even amidst the horrors of war, she was the
liberal and dignified patroness ; and in the patronage with
which she nourished and favoured lliem, there was so
much discrimination and knowledge, that she most effec-
•tually accomplished her object. Even to men of learning,
notwithstanding her political and religious bigotry, slie
was a generous patroness. In short, in her might clearly
be traced many of those features, both of mind and man-
ners, which characterised the most distinguished branches
of the family from which she was sprang. But these
grand, and even attractive qualities, were strangely inter-
mixed and debased by her vices and prejudices. To ac-
complish her views, she did not scruple to overleap the
bounds of justice, truth, and humanity. She was cruel,
rapacious, and deceitful : it would even seem., from some

parts of her conduct, that her cruelly was so refined and
disinterested (if that expression may be allowed), that it
centered in itself, nor looked to any exterior object, as its
own justification or excuse. In her morals, she displayed
all the profligacy of her nation ; her ambition was without
bounds; it did not even confine itself to objects grand and
comprcliensive in their nature, but could, at times, feed
on what was comparatively trifling and insignificant. Such
a woman, even if she had not stood in the lelation of
mother to the young king, must have possessed great in-
fluence over his mind ; and even during the life of her
husband, she had been preparing herself for the exercise
of power. N'o person was more deeply sensible of the
importance of the maxim, of dividing in order to govern ;
and no person ever acted more systematically on that
maxim.

She soon had occasion to act on this maxim ; for the
weakness of Francis afforded opportunity for intrigue, and
opened the way to the rule of the kingdom. The family
of the Guises were perhaps, next to Catherine de Medicis,
most distinguished at this period for their talents and
ambition: there were five brothers of them. The Duke
of Guise himself; the Cardinal of Lorraine ; the Duke of
Aumale ; the Cardinal of Guise; the Marquis of Elbeuf,
and the Grand Prior : they were all men of great ambition,
and who employed the greatest military and political ta-
lents, in order to acquire the highest power in the state.
As they were uncles to the Queen of Scotland, and had
ncgociated the marriage between her and Francis, they
had easy access to his person, and great influence over his
mind and feelings : nor were they without considerable
influence with the mass of the nation. The Duke of Guise
himself was regarded as the saviour of France by the
deeds which he had performed, when he was recalled
from Italy ; and if these left any doubt respecting his mili-
tary talents and skill, they were completely removed by
the recollection of his defence of Metz. But he trusted
for his popularity, not merely to what he had atchieved
as a soldier ; for to military talents he united a wonderful
degree of humanity, courtesy, and liberality : at that pe-
riod, when the great bulk of the people were either en-
tirely overlooked, or considered and treated as beings of
an inferior order and description, he condescended not
only to notice them, but even to excite their attention and
gratitude, by his marked attention to their interests, and
even to their feelings and prejudices. He was not less
distinguished by his zeal for religion, than for the talents
and manners which we have described : and this zeal was
so ardent and overpowering, that it even conquered his
natural humanity of disposition and courtesy of manners.
Such was the Duke of Guise himself ; but his character,
or at least his conduct, was considerably modified by the
influence which his brother the Cardinal Lorraine possess-
ed and exercised over him. Even in those days of high
church authority, and of rigid and unbending orthodoxy,
this prelate was venerated by the clergy, as the guardian
of their rights and privileges, and by the Catholics as the
champion of their faith. His talents were perhaps more
varied than those of his brother, since he was eloquent in
debate, fruitful in expedients, and versed in all the in-
trigues of the court ; but, on the ether hand, he was too
readily depressed by defeat, and too easily elated by suc-
cess. His personal courage was not inferior to that of
the Duke's ; his temper was vindictive ; his morals most
dissolute.

The Constable Montmorency and his family were op-
posed to the family of the Guises, not more in views and
i.'.tercst, than in character. The constable himself was of
a haughty and inflexible disposition, and would not con-

FRANCE.

289

c)e3CCii(l like the Duke of Guise, to gain tliat influence, by
tlie affability of his manners, wliicli lie thought ought to be
the unsolicited reward, or rather consetiucnce, of his hiijli
birth, great services, and undoubted talcuts. Nor was he
in other respects better calculated for succeeding in the
intrigues of a court : his notions of what was his duly, both
■ill his public and private station, were strict, and utterly at
"variance with the loose and accommodating morality of the
age and nation. In every respect he most conscientiously
performed what his conscience dictated ; and strict and
severe to his own failings, he had no moderation or excuse
for those of others. It may well be conceived that, with
such a character, and with such high ideas of his own dig-
nity, merits and deserts, his temper could not be flexible,
nor his address insinuating. Though he regarded the
highest offices of the state as his due, yet his pride would
not permit him to solicit them ; and he was still further
excluded from them, by his open and warm attachment to
the established religion.

Of the princes of the blood who next claim our attention,
Antony de Bouibon, king of Navarre, was of a disposition
inild, humane, and easily wrought upon. His talents were
by no means of the first order ; nor had he compensated for
deficiency of talents, by the acquirements of culture, or by
iiabits of application to business. Indecisive and timid, he
fluctuated between the reformed and Catholic religion ;
fond of pleasure, he forgot his political rights, duties, and
engagements, in the arms of his mistre&ses. Such a man
■was ill calculated to take the lead at the court of France i
while, on the other hand, he was admirably calculated to
become the instrument of intrigue and ambition, with men
more highly endowed than himself. His brother, Louis,
Prince of Conde, laboured under the disadvantage of an
ungraceful and diminutive person; yet such were the at-
tractions of his manners and character, that he received
from the ladies of the court of France the most flattering
proofs of their affection. His courage was undoubted;
and though his income was narrow, yet his magnificence
and liberality were great. His talents, though not perhaps
of the first order, were by no means despicable ; but what
distinguished him particularly, was an attachment to the
reformed religion, not merely ardent and zealous, but pure
and enlightened. In vain were the allurements of plea-
sure, and the higher and more splendid rewards of ambi-
tion, employed to entice him from his religious principles
and professions: he was firm and unljending; and when
they called upon him for action or sacrifice, he was always
ready. To the Duke of Guise he was an open and for-
midable rival, not more from the siniilarity of their cha-
racter and objects in Some respects, than from the oppo-
site religious sentiments which they respectively em-
braced.

The Admiral Coligny was brave, generous, and sincere.
His first and most darling wish was, to secure liberty of
conscience for himself and his brethren of the reformed
religion. Could he have secured this, he would willingly
have withdrawn himself from public life ; but while this
was unattained, he regarded it as his paramount duty to
stand forward, as the undisguised and enthusiastic cham-
pion of what he was convinced was the truth.

The deputies of parliament waited on Francis, soon af-
ter his ascending tlie throne, to exi)ress their duty and al-
legiance to his person: on this occasion he informed them,
that he had thought proper to assign to the Duke of Guise
the supreme administration of the military department,
and to the Cardinal of Lorraine the supreme administra-
tion of the finances ; at the same time the Constable Mont-
morency was dismissed from his office of master of the
household to his seat aVChantilly; and the King of Na-

VoL. IX. Part L' '"'-'- -

varre, witli his l)rolhcr ihc I'rnicc of Condc, were received
at couit in a cold and disrcspcrtfnl manner. The former-
was soon afterwards persuaded by Cathcruic de Mcdicisto
leave Paris, and to take up his abode in Hcrnc, under the
vain hope that he might recover his former dominions by
negociation.

As soon as the King of Navarre had left Paris, the.
measures and plans of the Guises and Catherine begaii to
unfold themselves. An edict was published, forbidditig
any person to carry fire-arms, or to wear any dress favour-
able to the concealment of such weapons. Another regu-
lation was adopted, which declared that no person should
hold two situations at the same time. Tlie object of this
was undoubtedly the Admiral Coligny, who immediatelv-
resigned the government of Picardy, which was given to
the Marshal Brisac, notwithstanding the Prince of Conde
endeavoured to obtain it. The Duke of Guise, at the same
lime, was appointed Master of the Household.

As all these measures were preparatory to the persecu-
tion of the Protestants, it may be proper to take a retro-
spective view of the origin and progress of the reformed
religion in France under Francis I. As has been already
noticed, the new doctrine had spread greatly at court, as
well as in the capital and provinces. The Christian Insti-
tutes of Calvin were dedicated to that king. His sister,
the Queen of Navarre, protected lus disciples, while they
were persecuted by the clergy and the parliament. The
spirit of the new religion was increased and invigorated,
and the numbers who professed it were greatly augmented,
by the massacre of Cabrieres and Merindol, and by the
executions which were imprudently multiplied by Henry
II. Thus, at the accession of Francis II. Calvinism had
gained a firm and wide footing, and could count among its
professors several men of great talents and influence.
Admiral Coligny, and his brotlier D'Andelot, and Cardinal
Chatillon, were firm friends to a reformation ; and the
Prince of Conde inclined to the same side. The court,
on the contrary, seemed resolved to crush the Calvinists,
by the most open and violent measures. Instead of cor-
recting the errors, which had given oft'ence, even to con-
scientious Catholics, new observances, still more supersti-
tious, were enjoined. Images of the Virgin, and of the
saints, were placed at the corners of the streets, with ta-
pers lighted up before them; round these, the populace
assembled, singing hymns, and compelling the passengers
to put money into little boxes, for the expence of the illu-
TTiination. if a man did not bow to these images, and stop
with marks of reverence, while the people were paying
this worship, he was either knocked down, dragged to
prison, or insulted. These, however, were trifling evils, to
which the Protestants were exposed. Courts of ecclesias-
tical judicature, invested with inquisitorial powers, were
erected, denominated Chambres yJrdentes, from the se-
verity of their punishments. To these the cognizance of
heresy was entrusted. The strictest search was made to
discover oflenders ; and as the Protestants, in order to
conceal themselves, were obliged to meet by night, they
were charged with committing in these assemblies the
most dreadful crimes. Thus goaded on to resistance, they
only waited for a fit opportunity and season to protect
themselves by force of arms; and this was soon supplied
them, by the mixture of folly and wickedness which the
court displayed. In consequence of the peace, great num-
bers of troops had been disbanded, without receiving what
they conceived due for their services. They tlierefore
came up to Paris, and applied to the Cardinal of Lorraine,
as Minister of the Finances. He treated them witli insult,
unwilling or unable to satisfy their demands; and when
they again importuned. him, be commanded ihem to retire,'

290

FRANCE.

on pain of Ijcinj^- iiistantly Iuhilj u[)i)ii a gallows, which he
had oiclcnfd lo be erected for that puipohe. I}y this foolish
and liiiish behaviour, these soldiers were totally alienated
from the house of Guise, to which the military talents and
success, as well as the popular character of the Duke, had
hitherto attached them ; and they united themselves with
the Protestants.

Soon after this, the conspiracy of Amboise was formed.
Of this the Prince of Conde was the invisible mover, and
La Ronaudic, a Protcstanf gentleman, the open and avow-
ed author. The latter was a man of ancient family, but of
I'uined fojtnnc: he had lost a law-suit, and been condemn-
ed to banishment lor having produced fictitious titles. At
Geneva and Lausanne, he imbibed the doctrines of the Re-
formation ; and afterwards, under a feigned name, he tra-
versed the diflercnt provinces of France, for the purpose
of rousing the Protestants against the Duke of Guise. At
length he appointed a general rendezvous at Nantes, where
the parliament of Brittany was at that time sitting; and
nbovc 200 gentlemen of fortune and family, from various
parts of the kingdom, attended the summons. Before them
iie laid open his plan for carrying ofl' the Guises from
Amboise, where the Court then resided; to set the Prince
of Conde at the head of affairs, and to secure liberty of
conscience. The day was fixed for the execution of this
design, and the measures so well concerted, that its suc-
cess appeared infallible. But while thousands of conspira-
tors kept the secret, it was betrayed by an advocate, who,
though a Calvinist, yet regarded the plot with horror. As
soon as this information was received at court, the Duke
of Guise was appointed lieutenant-general of the kingdom,
■with supreme power in all cases, civil and military. Re-
raudie, though he rather suspected, from the precaution-
ary measures adopted by the court, that his plan was
known, resolved to persevere in its execution; and several
small bands of conspirators, marching only by night, suc-
ceeded in reaching, undiscovered, the gates of the castle
of Amboise. Here, however, they were repulsed, and cut
to pieces by the inhabitants, at the head of whom the Duke
of Guise had placeL; himself. The Baron of Chatelnau,
at the head of a considerable number of Calvinists, shut
himself up in the castle of Noissy, where he was attacked
by the Duke of Nemours, to whom, on condition that the
lives of himself and his associates should be spared, he
soon surrendered himself. As soon as Renaudie was in-
formed of the dangerous situation of Chatelnau, he put
himself at the head of a few men, as desperate as himself,
Avith the intention of either rescuing him, or perishing in
tlie attempt. On the road he was met by 200 cavalry of
the opposite party. A most desperate action took place ;
but Renaudie's companions being overcome by superior
numbers, he rode up to the commander of the cavalry, and
thrusting a poinard through his vizor, laid him dead upon
the spot. He himself was afterwards shot, and died fight-
ing desperately to the last. His body was publicly expos-
ed on a gibbet, and a label affixed to it, with the inscrip-
tion. Chief of the Rebels.

The fate of Renaudie produced not the effects which
the court expected. On the contrary, the Protestant party
increased in numbers, and displayed additional zeal and
activity. Still the Court adhered to their measures of ri-
gour and duplicity. The Baron of Chatelnau, notwith-
standing the assurances of safety which he had received,
was sacrificed to the iniplacable enmity of the princes of
Lorraine. Every temptation was held out to him, to name
the Prince of Conde as his accomplice ; but though a de-
claration to that elfect had been extorted from his com-
panions, he firmly refuted the aspersion, and to the last

moment of his life proclaimed the innocence of the Prince

of Conde.

This prince now thought himself called upon openly to
vindicate his honour, which he did in the presence of the
king, offering to maintain it, in single combat, against his
accuser. It could not possibly be mistaken that he point-
ed at the Duke of Guise ; but the Duke eluded the chal-
lenge, warmly praising the conduct of the prince, and of-
fering to be his second against any antagonist. In private,
however, he strongly urged the king to secure a chief, who
was so formidable, on account of his birth, talents, and en-
terjirize. Francis, easily led, and sensible of the danger
to which he might be exposed from the intrigues of the
prince, seemed disposed to have listened to this advice ;
but at this period, in consecjucnce of the death of the
Chancellor Olivier, and the succession of Michael De
I'Hospital to that office, the power of the Guises suffered
a decline ; for the new chancellor, being a man of cool
temper, great abilities, and a friend rather to his king and
country than to any of the parties which then endeavoured
to gain an ascendency over them, pointed out, in the stron-
gest manner, to the queen-mother, the danger of the fa-
mily of the Guises acquiring a permanent ascendency, and
advised her to follow that temporising system of policy, to
which she was so natur.dly inclined by her disposition, and
so happily adapted by her habits and talents. In conse-
(pience of this advice, Catherine lent her support secretly
to the Prince of Conde and the Protestants.

At this time, the internal state of the kingdom was so
overcast with danger, that it was deemed necessary to hold
a. general assembly at Fontainebleau, to deliberate on the
exigencies of the state. At this assembly, the Admiral
Coligny presented to the king a petition from the Cal-
vinists, demanding the public exercise of their religion,
and that their public meetings might no longer be impu-
ted to them as a crime ; adding, that although no name was
affixed to it, yet, whenever his majesty would signify his
pleasure, it would be signed by 150,000 persons. Montluc,
Bishop of Valence, and ^Marilla, Archbishop of Vienne,
spoke with energy against the abuses which occasioned so
many troubles and disorders ; exposed the vices of the
court of Rome — the ignorance and corruption of the French
clergy — the avarice of the Italians, who, without residing
in the kingdom, possessed one-third of the benefices — the
injustice of the persecution, which confounded the innocent
with the guilty — and concluded, by stating it as their firm
opinion, that the public calamities arose from the errors
which had crept into religion, and from the vicious conduct
of those who were its ministers. At the same time, while
they, in this bold and liberal manner, advocated the cause
of truth, and denounced the vicious and corrupt, they con-
demned the seditious religionists, and insisted on the neces-
sity of repressing and curbing them, marking the distinc-
tion, however, between those who made religion a pretext
for disturbing the state, and such as adhered to their er-
rors from a principle of sincerity : the latter they thought
it was wrong to treat as criminals. They even went far-
ther, and pointed out, in clear and strong terms, the dan-
gers which might arise from persecution. Opinions in
themselves weak, thus acquired, in the view of the multi-
tude, strength and importance. A curiosity to know, and
often a desire to embrace them, was excited, when people
saw them maintained in the midst of the flames, by men of
estimable character and irreproachable morals. After
again insisting on the necessity of a reformation, they con-
cluded with proposing a national synod, if the Pope should
refuse to convoke a general council, with a prohibition of
exerting the severity of the law except against real crimes.

FRANCE.

291

Coligliy afterwards rose again, and in plain and manly
languaije advocated the cause which he had coiiscicntioiisly
embraced. He then adverted to the guard wliich had re-
cently been placed around the king, reminding his majesty,
that in the affection and loyalty of his subjects he would
always find the most faithful and brave defence ; that no-
thing could be more prejudicial to his real interests, as
well as to the interests of the nation at large, than that he
should either be dreaded by his subjects, or the object of
dread to them. He concluded, by repeating his opinion,
that the king's guard should be discharged. The States-
general assembled, and methods contrived to root out, not
only speculative, but practical errors from the church. If
these things were done sincerely and effectually, the king
would regain the affections of his subjects, the nation would
be peaceable and happy, and real religion would flourish
and influence the conduct of all. This speech of the ad-
miral, so much in character, called up the Duke of Guise,
who purposely misrepresented the advice and wishes of
Coligi»y, declaring, with much warmth, that no council
should force or influence him to change his religion. The
Cardinal of Lorraine followed and supported his brother,
denying the imputations which Coligny had cast on the
opinions and practices of the church, strongly insisting on
the necessity and sacred obligation of extirpating error by
the secular power, and branding as seditious the advice
which Coligny had given. The opinions of the Guises
would probably have been carried into full effect, had not
Catherine of Medicis considered it as her best policy to
check their violence, and to use her influence with the
king to countenance, at least, the advice of Coligny and his
party. Francis therefore declared his intention of convok-
ing the states in the ensuing December, and thus breathing
time was given to the Protestants.

It was evidently their policy to keep well with Catherine
of Medicis ; and this they could only effect by not alarming
either her ambition or her religious prejudices ; but unfor-
tunately they conducted themselves in such a manner as
to excite her hatred, and to induce her again to unite her-
self with the Guises: For the King of Navarre and the
Prince of Condi concerted measures to deprive the Guises
of their power and influence before the states assembled ;
and even laid a plan for surprising the city of Lyons. This
plan reached Catherine, who, regarding it as proceeding
from a spirit which looked farther than the mere over-
throw of the Guises, took the alarm, and, by the intercep-
tion of some letters, completely defeated the execution of
it.

In the mean time, the period for the assembly of the
states drew near. It had been originally appointed to be
held at Meaux, but it was afterwards transferred to Or-
leans. Hither the king, now in a very dangerous state of
health, proceeded, with a guard ol 1000 cavalry. The King
of Navarre, and his brother the Prince of Conde, were in-
vited to attend, with the strongest assurances, not only that
they should be safe, but that such measures would be
adopted at this assembly as would satisfy them, and please
the protestants. At first, they were suspicious of the ma-
chinations of the Guises, but at last they resolved to obey
the summons. In the course of their journey, they were
darkly and mysteriously informed of some danger that
threatened them ; but justly concluding, that if tliey disco-
vered suspicion or alarm, or if they returned instead of pro-
ceeding, they might probably expose themselves to still
greater risk, they resolved to go on to Orleans. Indeed,
they beheld before, behind, and on all sides of them, par-
ties of men stationed there under various pretexts, but
whom they had just reason to apprehend were instructed
to intercept their retreat or flight.

When they arrived at Orleans, the king at first treated
them with great coldness and indifference ; but this beha-
viour was soon changed, and succeeded by the most violeiit
reproaches, and such accusations, as left tlicm no doubt that
they had acted imprudently Ih attending the assembly. Be-
tween the Duke of Guise and the Cardinal of Lorraine the
king was seated; around him wcic the captains of his
guards. On the Prince of Conde he fixed a look as full
of determination and meaning as he could well call up, anri
accused hirn of having attempted to seize on the priiicipaS
cities in France, and even of having plotted to take away
his life and that of his brother's. Tliis accusation, so unex-
pected, and brought forward at a time and in a place which
bespoke a determination to throw asidt all regard to jus-
tice and innocence, by no means daunted the intrepid
Conde. He protested that he was guiltless of the crime
laid to his charge, and he offered to prove his innocence.
To this offer Francis replied, that it would be necessary to
proceed by the usual modes of justice. On this, the King
of Navarre was conducted to an adjoining apartment,
where, however, he was allowed the liberty of conversa-
tion ; but the Prince of Conde was strictly confined, and
with such precautions as plainly indicated that it was re-
solved to take away his life. The Protestants immediately
took the alarm ; but the Guises were afraid to proceed to
extremities too suddenly ; and the admiral, though he re-
mained at Orleans, was unmolested. His brother D'Andi-
lut, some time before, suspicious of the treachery of the
Guises, had withdrawn into lirittany.

The chancellor and rive judges were appointed to inter-
rogate the Prince of Conde in prison ; but he refused to an-
swer to their questions, and boldly demanded to be tried in
the most public manner. This, he said, he claimed as due
to his dignity and rank, not less than to his innocence. Ca-
therine of Medicis, by whose advice, or at least with whose
concurrence, the king had taken these steps, and who, at
first, with her characteristic duplicity, affected to deplore
the violence which she herself had consented to, soon dis-
covered the error she had committed, in uniting herself too
closely with the Princes of Lorraine, and in destroying that
balance of parlies most favourable to the success of her
own intrigues, and to her own views and interest : But she
had gone too far to recede ; and the fate of Conde seemed
inevitable, when he was preserved by the death of the
king. Francis, on his return from the chase, was seized
with a violent pain in his ear; in a short time an inipos-
thume was formed, and the surgeons declared that nothing
could save him. The Duke of Guise and the Cardinal of
Lorraine thus beholding their power, in all probability,
drawing to a conclusion, while the very same cause must
preserve the life of their rival, hurried on the process in a
most shameful and indecent manner, neglecting even the
forms of justice. As the judges were entirely under their
influence, they found him guilty without the slightest hesi-
tation ; and he was condemned to have his head struck off
on a scaffold before the apartment of the king.

Before, however, the execution could take place, it was
indispensably necessary that the signature of the chancel-
lor should be put to the order for that purpose. De I'Hos-
pital was a man always averse to violent measures ; and in
this case, as the king's death was expected every hour, he
was reasonably afraid lest he should be called to account,
if he lent the authority of his official character to the exe-
cution of such an unjust and illegal sentence. The Guises
in vain appealed to Francis ; he was now too weak to un-
derstand what they wanted ; and even while they were urg-
ing him to issue his orders to the chancellor to affix his
signature to the warrant for their rival's death, he breathed
his last. Thus was the Prince of Conde snatched from the
O o 2

292

FllANCE.

very jaws of destniction. The climactei- of Francis was
not marked by any strong or discriminatint; features ; nor
could it indeed be expected, when we rcHect on bis ex-
treme youth — on the manner in whicii that youth had been
spent — and on the talents and intiiiiucs of those by whom
lie was constantly surrounded, and who, however they
might differ among themselves, took especial care that the
king should never think or act for himself. His death
opened up a new scene for intrigue and ambition ; and so
eagerly were Catherine and the Princes of Lorraine en-
gaged in securing or extending their inllucnce, that the
funeral of the king was attended only by those who had
been his governors, and by the liishop of Senlis.

Francis II. was succeeded by his brother Charles IX.
then only ten years of age. The extreme youth of her son
afforded Catherine an ample field for her powers of ambi-
tion and intrigue. She was resolved not to commit the
management of Charles to any person, but to wield herself
the whole machine of government ; at the same time she
was fully aware, that her power would not be secure or
permanent, unless she acted on her favourite maxim, di-
■vicle and govern. After, therefore, she had obtained for
tersclfthc appointment of guardian to her son, she direct-
ed her thoughts to the leaders of the principal parties in the
state. The King of Navarre was named lieutenant-gene-
ral of the kingdom ; the sentence against Conde was an-
nulled, and he was pronounced innocent ; the constable
Montmorency was recalled to court; and thus the princes
of Lorraine, though they still enjoyed high otBces and
great power, found a counterpoise to the Weight of their
influence. To this league, Catherine gave the name of
the Triumvirate. In a short time, however, she began to
dread the eficcfs of that whicli she had taken such pains to
"accomplish; and her endeavours were now directed to
weaken the force, and divide the interests of the three
great parlies. With this view, she tempted the King of
Navarre, by the charms of one of her maids of honour, to
renounce his claim to the regency as first prince of the
blood; and she deceived Coligny, by the protection sheaf-
forded to the doctrines and followers of Calvin. This con-
duct alarmed or disgusted the other branches of the Tri-
umvirate, who, in their turn, used their efforts to weaken
and divide the party of the Queen. The King of Navarre,
always vacillating and inconstant, was soon drawn over, by
the vuin promise of receiving the island of Sardinia as a
compensation for his kingdom of Navarre.

In the mean time, the States-general again met, in 1560,
at Orleans; but their labours were of no effect in tranquil-
lizing the nation. At tliis assembly, the third estate and
the nobility concurred in demanding the reform of the
clergy, to v/hose ignorance and vice they ascribed not only
the rapid spread of Calvinism, but all the evils which af-
flicted the nation. The clergy, however, as might natu-
rally be expected, proclaimed their own innocence, and
ascribed the growth of Calvinism, and the distracted state
cf the country, to the love of innovation. Catherine, al-
ways attentive to her own schemes, having at this time
professed her desire that the Calvinists should be protect-
ed, and even displayed some symptoms of favouring their
doctrine, proposed the expedient of a conference between
them and the Catholics. The Cardinal of Lorraine, filled
with vanity, and not doubting that at this conference he
should for ever silence the supporters of the new doctrine,
Vrillingly consented to this scheme. In 1361, therefore,
the famous conference of Paissi was held, which termina-
ted, as might have been anticipated, in confirming each
party in his peculiar tenets, and in increasing the perse-
cuting spirit of the Catholics, and the zeal of the Calvinists.
The Cardinal of Lorraine^ swd Theodore Beza, were the

principal disputants. Laincz, the second general of the
order of the Jesuits, and the princi|)al author of llieir regu-
lations, was sent by Pope Pius IV. to attend this confer-
ence ; but the violence and persecuting spirit which he ma-
nifested in his harangues, alarmed and displeased Cathe-
rine, who, at tills lime, deemed it her policy to keep her
bigotry under the management of her ambition. In order,
however, that her orthodoxy might not be suspected, she
agreed to the establishment of a college of Jesuits in
F'rance.

In 1562, Catherine, in furtherance of her plans of uni-
ting the Protestants on her side against the Duke of Guise,
caused an edict to be issued, by which liberty of conscience
was granted to them, on condition that they should hold
their religious assemblies only in the suburbs, or in the
country, and not in any of the cities or towns of the king-
dom. Scarcely was tliis edict published, before great
numbers, whom the fear of persecution had hitherto re-
strained, now openly professed the reformed religion ; the
religious assemblies of the Calvinists were ciowded ; the
Catholics were insulted, and they in their turn insulted
the Protestants. At this critical juncture, it happened
that the Duke of Guise, on his journey to Paris, halted at
Viessy, a small town in Champagne, where his attendants
insulted a congregation of Protestants, who were assem-
bled at their devotions in a barn. The Protestants being
more numerous, and knowing that the law was on their
side, repelled the assailants with stones. The Duke, as
soon as he learnt what was going on, hastened to the spot,
and, in his attempt to quell the dispute, he was wounded
in the face. His servants, enraged at this, drew their
swords, and killed and wounded above 250 of the Protes-
tants. As soon as the tumult was over, the Duke of Guise
severely reprimanded the magistrate of the place, for per-
mitting the assemblies of the Protestants to be held there ;
and when he pleaded the royal edict in their favour, as his
authority and justification, the Duke, laying his hand on his
sword, angrily replied, " This shall cut the bond of that
edict, however strong it may be."

The intelligence of the massacre of Viessy, greatly ex-
aggerated, and the report of the Duke's speech, soon
reached the Prince of Conde, who demanded instant satis-
faction from the court. Catherine was puzzled how to act;
but at length she resolved to promise him the satisfaction
he required, well knowing that her promise would be ren-
dered futile by the remonstrances and opposition of the
King of Navarre and the triumvirate. So it happened;
they openly refused to obey her commands; and they were
strengthened in their refusal, by the arrival of the Duke
of Guise at Paris with 1200 cavalry. Catherine now be-
came seriously alarmed for her own safety, and for the
continuance of her power over the King. She therefore
made a forcible appeal to the Prince of Conde, exhorting
him to rescue his sovereign from captivity, and thus afford-
ing him the pretence he wished for to arm his associates.
The Triumvirate proclaiming to the nation that they wish-
ed to rescue him from the Calvinists, seized his person, and
conducted him, and his indignant mother, who vainly la-
mented the consequences of her own machinations, first
to Melun, and afterwards to the capital.

Such was the beginning of the civil wars, that desolated
and weakened France for so long a period of time. The
Prince of Concx having consulted with the admiral, put
himself at the head of 2000 cavalry, pushed forward, and
made himself master of Orleans. Here having established
his head-quarters, it became necessary for him to strength-
en his cause by every means in his power. His first ob-
ject was to quiet the suspicions of the Catholics in France
as much as possible. With this view, he declared that he

FllANCE.

293

ha'l taken up arms, to rclievwthe Kinrj and Iiis mother
iVom captivity. He next dispalclitcl messengers into Ger-
many, to solicit the aid of liis I'rotcblanl hrelhrcn ; and he
gave up Havre to l^lizaheth, Queen of England, in order
to obtain licr assistance. The cliancellor De I'llospital
made an attempt to prevent the dreadful evils of a civil
war; but this failing, both parties i)rcpared for hostilities.
The Catholic army was first; in a condition to lake the field,
and after pUmdeiing IJlois, Tours, and Bourgcs, it sat
down before Rouen. This place was occupied by a garri-
son under the command of that Montgomery, who had
been the innocent cause of the death of Henry H. In
consequence of his having been pursued by the implacable
resentment of Catherine, he had taken refuge in England,
Avhere he had embraced the reformed religion, and from
which country he had returned as soon as the civil war
commenced. His courage naturally great, and his talents
and experience by no means of an ordinary description,
were called into full action on this occasion ; and the in-
habitants, encouraged by his example, refused all offers of
capitulation. At last, after a most obstinate defence, the
city was taken by assault. Montgomery escaped with a few
companions in a boat, but the inhabitants suffered every
species of outrage which an enraged soldiery could inflict.
In the course of the siege, the King of Navarre received
a wound, which soon afterwards caused his death.

The Prince of Conde hitherto had not been able to act
offensively; but having now been joined by 12,000 men
from Germany, he attempted to surprise Paris; but not
succeeding, he retired into Normandy. In his retreat, he
was pursued by the Catholic army, which came up to him
at Draix. Here, in 1563, the first civil battle took place,
and it was fought with the rancorous obstinacy which al-
ways fatally distinguishes civil wars. In the beginning of
the engagement, nothing could withstand the impetuous
charge of the Protestants; and the Constable Rlontmorency
having been wounded, was taken prisoner. But the Duke
of Guise, by his calm and circumspect courage, more than
compensated for these disasters. The Protestants, in their
eagerness of pursuit had weakened their line : on it the
Duke fell suddenly, and with great force. The prince of
Conde, being dismounted and surrounded, was obliged to
surrender to the second son of the constable. The com-
mand now devolved on Coligny, and it required all his ta-
lents, and the animating example of his courage, to rally
his troops, and conduct them, before a superior force, to-
wards Orleans.

Although the queen-mother, in consequence of this vic-
tory, was fully sensible that the influence of the Princes of
Lorraine was become much more formidable than it had
ever been before, yet the military talents of the Duke had
been so conspicuously displayed in atchieving it, that she
found herself under the necessity of conferring on him the
chief command of the army, with which, indeed, he had
been already invested by the tumultuous acclamations of
the soldiers. The capture of Orleans was the next object
at which the Duke aimed. Coligny, having gone into Nor-
mandy in order to receive the supplies which he expected
from England, had leftinthat city hisbrother D'Andelot with
2000 of his troops, with instructions to defend it to the last
extremity. These orders, the Duke, from the tried valour
of D'Andelot, had every reason to conclude would be obey-
ed, in their fullest sense ; but he v/as rather urged on than
intimidated by this consideration. In less than a month,
he had made himself master of the bridge across the Loire,
and of the suburbs ; and the fate of Orleans seemed at
hand, when the duke was assassinated by a gentleman of the
name of Poltrot. In his last moments, he exhorted Cathe-
rine to extinguish the civil war, which wars just begun: he

lamented the massacre of Viessy as the cause of it, hut
declared, that, with respect to it, he was completely inno-
cent ; and he recommended to his eldest son, Henry, an in-
violable attachment to his sovereign.

The command of tlie army before Orleans was given,
on the death of the Duke, to the Marshal Uiisac; but Ca-
therine, at the same time, discovering a wish for peace, the
terms were soon settled by the constable and the Prince of
Conde. By this treaty, the free exercise of their religion
was granted to the Protestants, on condition that they laid
down their arms, gave up the jjlaces which they occupied,
and renounced their alliance with England.

In 1564, Catherine having obliged the parliament of Pa-
ris to declare the regal authority at an end, though Charles
had not yet completed his 14lh year, made a progress
through France, along with hiin, under the pretence of as-
certaining its state and resources. At Bayonne, they were
met by the Queen of Spain, sister to Charles, and by the
Duke of Alva. A long and mysterious conference took
place, which, it is said, was held at the solicitation of
the Pope. Every thing was conducted in the most
private manner ; but when the Protestants considered
the character of the Duke of Alva, and of his master the
King of Spain, both avowed and most bitter enemies to
their religion, and the duplicity of Catherine, they were
filled with alarm and suspicion. Their apprehension of
impending danger was further increased, by the conduct
of the Catholic magistrates towards them, who, in direct
and open violation of the edict which had recently passed,
securing them the free exercise of their religion, threw
every obstacle in the way of their assemblies, and rather
encouraged than restrained the populace in insulting them.
In this slate of apprehension, they had recourse to the
Prince of Conde; but he, cither from prudential motives,
or because he still hoped to be appointed lieutenant-gene-
ral of the kingdom, strongly advised them to suffer quiet-
ly. This they did for nearly two years, till the prince,
perceiving that the court was not sincere in its conduct
towards him, and that it was only waiting for a fit oppor-
tunity to crush effectually and for ever the Protestants, de-
termined to have again recourse to arms. Catherine had
hoped that her measures were so well concerted, and at
the same time kept so secret, that the Proteslanls would
not proceed to open violence, at least till she was fully
prepared to resist and overwdielm them. She was there-
fore surprised and astonished, when she learnt that the
ruin which she had plotted against them, was likely to fall
on herself and on her party. The king, Catherine, and the
ministers, were at this time at iSIonceau, when she was in-
formed that the Prince of Conde was preparing to marcli
against that place, for the purpose of seizing the person
of Charles. She therefore hastily retired with him into
Meaux, and afterwards to Paris. On his way from Meaux,
to the capital, he was surrounded and protected by a body
of 6000 Swiss troops. Scarcely had he proceeded two
leagues, before the Prince of Conde appeared in sight at
the head of 200 cavalry. The Constable Montmorency,
upon this, sent the monarch forward by private roads to
Paris, under the escort of a body of cavalry, and with the
remainder of the troops succeeded in repulsing the Prince.
Thus was a second civil war begun. .'. ..:^

Conde being thus deceived in his hope of seizing the
king, proceeded to St Denis, which he occupied, and thus
cut off the supplies of the capital. Upon this, the con-
stable, notwithstanding he was anxious cauiiously to avoid
a battle, yet being urged by the tumultuous importunities
of the Parisians to free them from the inconveniences of a
siege, marched forth at the head of nearly 20,000 men.
The Protestants, though their numbers did not exceed

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FRANCE.

3000, by no means declined a batllc. Tor upwards of three
hours, they resisted most courageously sucli superior num-
bers, till at length they were compelled to give way ; but
this victory was dearly bought by the Catholics, at the
expence of the death of Montmorency, who, even after he
was wounded, and at the advanced age of 75, fought with
all the ardour of a young man.

Conde was not dismayed by this defeat ; but having col-
lected his dispersed troops, and liaving received a strong
reinforcement of German Protestants, he appeared again
in the field, at the head of a formidable army. He even
again blocked up the capital, and attemjitcd to possess
himself of the suburbs ; but being foiled in this, he tra-
versed the greatest part of the kingdom, and at last laid
siege to Charlres, a place of much importance. While he
was before this city, terms of accommodation were propos-
ed by the court, and accepted by Cotule. They were similar
to those formerly granted, and produced rather a suspen-
sion of hostilities than a renewal of peace.

The character of Charles now began to unfold itself;
and it was such as might have been anticipated from the
principles in whicli he had been brought up, — the maxims
which his mother had inculcated, — the example which she
had set before them, — and the circumstances of the king-
dom, both political and religious, in which he had passed
his youth. He was a thorough adept in the art of dissimula-
tion, which indeed he carried to such an extent, that though
his bigotry and hatred of the Protestants was extreme, he
could conceal even those feelings, when it was necessary
so to do, for the accomplishment of his wishes or pur-
poses. He was eager after glory ; but even this eagerness
bore the stamp of his bigotry ; for, instead of looking beyond
his own kingdom for the acquisition of it, he contented
himself with that glory which could be derived from over-
whelming the Protestants : and, unlike a man whose love
of glory excludes every thing that is mean or dishonoura-
ble, he often preferred the gratification of his bigotted and
persecuting spirit, to a fair and open competition with the
Protestants in the field of battle. On the death of Mont-
morency, being importuned to bestow the office of consta-
ble on his brother Henry, he replied, " I want no person
to carry my sword ; I will carry it myself :" by these
words not only displaying his own character, but intima-
ting that he thought the office of constable conferred too
much power on the person who bore it. The treaty which
had been concluded, was not likely to be of long duration :
in fact, neither party were sincere. The Prince of Conde
had acceded to it, because he was unable to satisfy the de-
mands of his German auxiliaries ; and the court party, be-
cause they always preferred intrigue and dissimulation to
open hostility. In less than six months after it was con-
cluded, Catherine laid a plot for seizing the Prince of
Conde and Admiral Coligny. They received intelligence
of their danger, fled to Rochelle, and summoned their
partisans to their assistance. To this place the Protestants
resorted in great numbers ; among the rest, Jane, Queen
of Navarre, with her infant son, afterwards Henry IV. In
vain did the Chancellor De I'Hospital endeavour to avert
a civil war ; his advice and remonstrances were neglected ;
he was dismissed from his office ; and the seals were given
to the Bishop of Orleans, a most bigotted Catholic. The
Duke of Anjou, brother to the king, though little more
than 16 years of age, was appointed lieutenant-general of
the kingdom ; and along with him was sent to the army
the Marshal Tavannes, a man of great military experience
and reputation. In the mean time, the Prince of Conde
was not idle. Having received money and ammunition, he
marched to Soissons, in order to meet the reinforcements
which he expected from Germany.

As it was of the utmost consequence that the prince
should be attacked before he was reinforced, the Catholic
army rapidly advanced for this purpose, and succeedi-d in
overtaking them on the banks of the Charenti, at Jarnac,
a small village in the province of Angoumois. The Pro- '
testants were surprised, and they were inferior in num-
bers ; yet, for upwards of seven hours, they fought with
the utmost steadiness and bravery. The Prince of Con-
de's arm was in a scarf, in consequence of a wound receiv-
ed in a former action; and just as the battle was beginning,
his leg was accidentally broken by the horse of his brother-
in law : notwithstanding all this, he betrayed no symptoms
of pain or uneasiness, but, retaining his wonted dignity and
presence of mind, he thus addressed those who immediate-
ly surrounded him : " Nobility of France, — know that the
Prince of Conde, with an arm in a scarf, and a leg broken,
fears not to give battle, since you attend him." At last,
after the Prince himself, Coligny, D'Andelot, Montgo-
mery and Rochefoucault, had vied with each other in dis-
plays of skill and valour, the Protestants were compelled
to yield. The Prince alone, incapable of flight, covered
with wounds, and exhausted with fatigue, was surrounded
and taken prisoner, and afterwards killed in cold blood by
a captain of the Duke of Anjou's guard.

The Protestants, though defeated, were not dispirited,
and the resources of the fertile mind of Coligny were call-
ed into immediate and full action on this occasion. He
collected the scattered troops, took such measures for their
security and protection as he deemed most proper and ne-
cessary, and succeeded in reaching Poitou. Here he was
joined by the Queen of Navarre, with such troops as
she could collect ; and her young son Henry, presented to
the army, and received with universal acclamations, was
declared general, along with his cousin the young Prince
of Conde.

Coligny, who still exercised the actual command and di-
rection of the forces, being strengthened by some German
auxiliaries, again took the field, obliged the Duke of An-
jou to retreat, and invested Poitiers. Into this place, the
young Duke of Guise, recollecting the glory which his
father had acquired by his defence of Metz, had thrown
himself, and animated the garrison, by his valour and con-
duct, to a most resolute defence. In the mean time, the
Duke of Anjou advanced with a powerful army ; and Co-
ligny thus threatened, and finding that there was no chance
of reducing Poitiers, abandoned the siege. He would have
also carefully avoided a battle ; but as he was incapable of
satisfying the demands of his German auxiliaries, he was
under the necessity of fighting while they remained with
him, lest on their departure he might be attacked at a still
greater disadvantage. Such was the cause which led to
the battle of Montconcour. The obstinacy of the comba-
tants was great ; but the numbers of the Catholics, and the
superior discipline of the Swiss, prevailed. The admiral
was wounded in the beginning of the action ; but his
wound was totally disregarded, and he continued fighting
with the utmost gallantry, till he was convinced that his
efforts were no longer of any advantage. He then, at the
head of only 300 horse, accompanied by the young King
of Navarre and the Prince of Conde, reached Parthenai,
about six leagues from the field of battle. Such was the
rise of the reputation of the second Duke of Guise ; for
to his obstinate and skilful defence of Poitiers, the disas-
ters of the Protestants may justly be ascribed.

As the Protestants had lost nearly 10,000 men in the
battle of Montconcour, the court of France and the Ca-
tholics fondly imagined that their power was finally and
completely broken ; what then was their surprise to learn,
that Coligny, undaunted by so signal a defeat, had sudden-

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295

ly appeared in anoUicr quarter of the kiiigdoni' ; had as-
sembled a formidable army, accomplished an incredible
march, and was ready to besiege Paris. The state of the
finances was such, that the king found it impossible to
raise and support an army sufficiently powerful to over-
come the persevering and indefatigable Coligny : he was
therefore obliged A. D. 1570, notwithstanding his violent
animosity against the Protestants, to enter into a negocia-
tion with them at St Germain en Laye. By this treaty, the
edicts in their favour were confirmed; a pardon was grant-
ed for all their past offences ; they were declared capable
of all offices, both civil and military; they were restored
to all their employments and dignities ; and Rochelle, La
Charite, Montauban, and Cogniac, were ceded to them for
two years, as places of refuge, and pledges for their se-
curity. The first of these cities kept the sea open for re-
ceiving succours from England ; the second preserved the
passage of the Loire; the third commanded the frontiers
of Languedoc; and the fourth opened a passage into An-
goumois, where the Protestants possessed greater strength
than in any other province.

Both Catherine and her son, being now convinced that
the destruction of the Protestants could be effected only
by intrigue, resolved to exert all the powers of their minds
to carry it on in such a manner as might most effectually
deceive the proposed victims of it. With this view they
pretended to be averse to the measures of the Guises as
unfriendly to the Protestants ; and even treated them with
coolness and indifference. The king proposed to give his
sister Margaret in marriage to Henry of Navarre, as a fur-
ther proof of his change of sentiments, and further se-
curity to the Protestants. This proposal was readily ac-
cepted ; and so deeply laid were the plans of Cathe-
rine and her son, that even the Admiral Coligny, notwith-
standing a letter which he received, putting him in mind
of the faithless characters of them both, was deceived by
their specious conduct and professions.

Catherine, having so often been foiled in her attempts to
crush the Protestants, both by open and secret measures,
was resolved that her present plan should not be frustrated
by precipitation : for two years she permitted France to
enjoy the blessings of tranquillity : and during the whole
of this period, the conduct both of herself and of the king,
continued such, as effectually lulled the suspicions of the
most timid and apprehensive Protestants. At last having
succeeded in persuading the admiral to come to Paris,
along with the most considerable men of the Protestant
party, in order to assist at the celebration of the marriage
of Margaret and Henry, Catherine and the king resolved
to hasten the catastrophe.

The marriage was celebrated on the 17th of August
1572 ; and, on the 22nd of that month, Coligny was wound-
ed by a shot from a window, as he was going to his house.
Upon learning this, the king paid him a visit, promised to
find out and punish the assassin, and to all appearance was
filled with indignation and sorrow for the accident. Two
days after this, on the 24th of August, the massacre of St
Bartholomew took place. When tlie king gave his direc-
tions respecting it, l\e added, with his customary oaths,
" Since it is to be done, take care that no one escapes to
reproach me." The direction of the massacre was en-
trusted more especially to the Duke of Guise; and the
signal for its commencement was to be given by striking
the great bell of the palace. Coligny, regular in his habits,
and still weak with his wounds, had retired to rest on the
eve of St Bartholomew very early ; but he was roused by
the noise of the assassins, who had surrounded his house.
A German, of tl-.e name of Besme, enttred his chamber;
and the admiral, suspicious of his designs, prepared to

meet his lute with culm and firm resignation. Scarcely
had he ulllered the woids, " Young man, respect these
grey hairs, nor stain them wilh blood," when t!ic Germaii
I>lunged his sword into his Ijosom, and afterwards threw
tlie corpse into the court. The Duke of Guise beheld it
in silence ; but Henry, Count of Angouleme, natural bro-
ther to the • king, spurned it with his foot, exclaiming,
" Courage, my friends ; we have begun well, let us also
finish well."

For five days did the massacre continue. The Catholic
citizens, who had been secretly prepared, by their leaders,
for such a scene, zealously seconded the execution of the
soldiery, and imbued their hands, without remorse, in the
blood of their neighbours, their companions, and even their
nearest relations. Among the most illustrious victims,
beside Coligny, were the Count de Rochefoucalt and Te-
ligni, who had married the daughter of the admiral. Tlie
Count de Montgomery, and the Vidame of Chartres, with
near a hundred others, who lodged on the south of the
Seine, escaped on horseback, half naked ; but tlicy were
pursued and overtaken by the Duke of Guise, who cut in
pieces nearly the whole of them.

The young King of Navarre and the Prince of Condc,
exempted from thcgeneral destruction, were brougiit before
Charles, and commanded to abjure their religion. The
King of Navarre consented; but the Prince hesitating,
Charles, in a transport of rage, exclaimed," Death, mass,
or 'the bastile !" The violence of this threat intimidated
the Prince ; and recanting his heresy, he received absolu-
tion from the Cardinal of Bourbon.

During the greater part of the massacre, Charles posted
himself at one of the windows of his palace, from which he
not only saw and encouraged the assassins, by frequently
calling out, " Kill, Kill !" but even repeatedly fired upon
the miserable fugitives.

The same barbarous orders were sent to all the provin-
ces of the kingdom ; and they were faithfidly obeyed in
Lyons, Orleans, Rouen, Bourges, Angers, and Toulouse,
In Pi'ovence, Dauphine, and some other parts, the Protes-
tants were protected. The Viscount Orthes, who com-
manded in Bayonne, in reply to the order which he receiv-
ed, wrote back to the king, that Bayonne contained loyal
citizens and brave soldiers, but that among tliem he was
not able to find one executioner. The Bishop of Liseux,
on this occasion, conducted himself in a manner becoming
the religion of which he was the minister; for when the
commandant of that place communicated to him the orders
of the court, he answered, "You must not execute them ;
those whom you are commanded to destroy are my flock;
it is true they have gone astray, but I shall use my endea-
vours to bring them back to the right fold. The gospel
does not say, that the shepherd should spill the blood of
his flock ; on the contrary, I read in it, that I ought, if ne-
cessary, to spill my blood for them." These instances of
humanity were, however, few ; and it is supposed that,
throughout France, 25,000 Protestants perished, and in
Paris alone 10,000.

As a justification of this dreadful and unparalleled mas-
sacre, Charles pretended, that the Protestants had formed
a conspiracy to seize his person ; and that, in his own de-
fence, he had been under the necessity of giving orders
for its execution. But the real motive and object were
by no means thus concealed ; nay, they were even dis-
played to public notice, by the proceedings of the par-
liament and the court. The former ordered an annual pro-
cession to celebrate the deliverance of the kingdom ; and
the latter had a medal struck, with a legend, intimating, in
express terms, that piety had armed justice on this occa-
sion. Still more unequivocally were the real causes of the

296

FRANCE.

massacre of St Bartholomew displayed, by the feelings
with which the intelligence of it was received at Rome
and in Spain. In both, public rejoicings were held, and
solemn thanks were returned to (iod for its success, under
the name of the " tiiunipli of the church militant." Among
the Protestants, it e.xcitc-d the most deep and penetrating
horror, and no where to a greater degree than in Eng-
land. Fenclon, the French ambassador at the court of St
James, gives the following striking picture of his first
audience after tlie massacre was known : " A gloomy sor-
row sate on every face ; silence, as in the dead of night,
reigned througli all the chambers of the royal apartments ;
the ladies and the courlicrs; clad in deep mourning, were
ranged on every side ; and as I passed by them, in my
approach to the tpieen, not one bestowed on me a favoura-
ble look, or made the least return to my salutations."

The effect of the massacre on the Protestants was
directly the reverse of what the king expected ; but ex-
actly such as a knowledge of human nature, and of reli-
gious zeal and enthusiasm, would have anticipated. Cal-
vinism, instead of being destroyed, became more formida-
ble by despair ; and a thirst for revenge, united to an
ardent spirit of civil and religious liberty. A fourth civil
war was kindled. The Protestants assembled in large
bodies, and took refuge in the strong places which belong-
ed to their party. In these, now fatally convinced that
their only alternative was open rebellion — if rebellion it
might be called — or persecution, they resolved to defend
themselves to the last extremity- At their head appear-
ed the King of Navarre and the Prince of Conde, both of
whom abjured a religion which they had been compelled
to profess. Rochelle made a desperate defence against
the Duke of Anjou, who lost almost all his army before
it. The siege continued eight months, during which time
the citizens repelled nine general, and twenty particular
attacks, and at length obliged the Duke to grant them an
advantageous peace. The town of Sancerre was defend-
ed with equal bravery for upwards of seven months ; nor
did the inhabitants surrender till they had obtained the
promise of liberty of conscience. About this time, the
Duke of Anjou was elected King of Poland ; and the mise-
ries of France daily increasing, Charles embraced the pre-
tence afforded by the elevation of his brother to conclude
a treaty with the Protestants, which he did not intend to
keep, and to which they never trusted.

In the following year, A. D. 1574, a third party arose
in France, which, without paying the least attention to the
religious disputes and differences of the other two parties,
confined their efforts entirely to politics : they were called
the Malecontents. Their avowed object was to reform the
political state of the kingdom, by setting limits to the
power and influence of the Guises, excluding the queen
from the administration of affairs, and banishing from the
kingdom all tbe Italians, whom she had introduced and
countenanced. The Duke of Alencon, brother to the
king, a man restless, intriguing, and versatile, put himself
at the head of this party.

In the midst of this disordered and embarrassed state of
the kingdom, the health of Charles was rapidly declining.
Ever since the massacre of Bartholomew, a deep and
suspicious gloom overspread his countenance, and his
iTiind was torn by contending passions. He still hated the
Protestants, but he was alarmed at the ambitious views and
extensive influence of the families of Montinorenci and
Guise, while he was deeply affected by the intrigues of his
brother the Duke of Alencon, and the King of Navarre. In
this state of bodily weakness and mental agitation, he began
to suspect that he had been too easily led by the counsels
of his mother, into a line of conduct neither conducive to

his peace of mind, honourable lo his name, nor advantageous
to his own interests, or those of his kingdom. This reflection,
coming thus late, served only to increase his bodily and
mental sufferings. Hie health declined with great rapidity:
each day some new and fatal symptoms manifested them-
selves, and at last his disorder took a most singular turn.
While a slow and internal fever preyed on his strength,
the blood oozed even out of the pores of his skin. Cathc-
linc was suspected of having administered poison to him,
but it is more probable, that his disoider was occasioned
by the dissolute life which he had led, and by the excessive
violence of his temper. For some time, such was the
remaining power of a constitution naturally strong, he
struggled against his disorder, but at length, in the 23d
year of his age, it overcame him. His last hours were wor-
thy of a better life, and a better character. These he spent
in recommending to those around him to preserve their
fidelity to the King of Poland, the heir to the throne on
his decease, and ho obliged all present to take an oath of
fidelity to Catherine during the absence of Henry.

Charles was not naturally devoid of qualities and talents,
which if they had not been counteracted by a most vicious
education, might have rendered him a blessing to his sub-
jects. He possessed wit, judgment, activity, and courage,
but his disposition was naturally violent, and those who had
the care of him in early life, especially the Marshal de Retz,
had encouraged, instead of repressed, this violence. Front
his mother he learnt the whole mystery of the Italian school
of politics, and consequently was an adept in dissimulation
and intrigue. Indeed, so far did he carry this habit, that
he not unfrequently preferred obtaining by deceit, what he
might much more easily and certainly have acquired by
open and ingenuous conduct, and his public life shews that
even the systematic dissimulation which he learnt from his
mother, was as frequently prejudicial as advantageous to
him. His tutor Amyot had given him a taste for learning,
and he cultivated poetry. Notwithstanding the distractions
of this reign, many laws and ordinances, originating in wise
and profound views of the public benefit, were passed,
chiefly through the labour and patriotic efforts of the Chan-
cellor De I'Hospital. In the midst of the civil wars, this
really great man fixed his undivided attention and wishes
on the good of his country; and such was the commanding
influence of his character, and his activity and zeal, that
at a time when law geneially is trampled under foot, he
made it be respected and acted upon.

On the death of Charles IX. the king of Poland, who
succeeded him under the nanre of Henry HI. hastened to
take possession of the throne. Dreading lest the Poles
should detain him, he withdrew privately, asif he had been
a prisoner making his escape. As he passed through the
dominions of the Emperor and the Republic of Venice, he
was advised to treat the Protestants with justice, if not
with gentleness and kindness, and to avoid persecuting
them, if he wished to restore tranquillity to France ; but
this advice was given in vain to a man who had been one
of the advisers of the massacre, and who, lo the utmost
depravity of manners, added the external observances of
the lowest superstition. Scarcely was he seated on tlie
throne of France, when he manifested a total unfitness for
his situation, even independent of his bigotry and depravi-
ty ; for he was totally averse to business, — occupied and
interested only in the most low and trifling pursuits and
objects ; and utterly devoid even of the manners and dig-
nity of a sovereign.

As the kingdom was still divided by factions, Catherine
persuaded Henry to take advantage of this circumstance,
and by acting as umpire between them, to restore the royal
auUiority to its pristine dignity and extent ; but the king,

FRANCE,

297

tliouf^h not unfit for this line of conduct, in respect to Iiis
liabits of dissitnulation, was totally disqualified for it, on
account of his want of vigour, application, and sound un-
derstanding; instead therefore of acquiring a superiority
over both factions, he lost the confidence of both, and
taught the parlizans of each to regard him with suspicion,
and to adhere more closely to their respective leaders.

In the mean time, A. D 1575, the Duke of Alenijon,
who, as has already been stated, had put himself at the
head of the political party, united with the Protestants,
while they were further encouraged and strengthened by
the presence of the King of Navarre, and by the arrival of
the Prince of Condc at the head of a German army. 'J'he
king upon this found himself under the necessity of con-
cluding a treaty with them, by which they obtained the pub-
lic exercise of their religion, except within two leagues of
the court; party chambers, composed of an equal number of
Protestants and Catholics, were established in all the par-
liaments of the kingdom; all attainders w«re reversed, and
eight cautionary towns were put into their possession.

But while Henry by this treaty pacified the Protestants,
he excited the greatest disgust and indignation among the
Catholics; and affording the Duke of Guise the pretext,
■which he had long sought, of putting himself at the head
of a most formidable party, for the express purpose of en-
tirely suppressing the Protestant religion in France. This
was the origin of the famous League, the meinbers of
which openly declared, that they would withstand the
royal authority in all cases where that authority was at va-
riance with the commands or the interests of the Catholic
religion. Henry now saw the error which he had commit-
ted in making peace with the Protestants; and as he pos-
sessed neither the justice nor the vigour that might have
prompted and enabled him to protect the Protestants
against the League, while he saw that the members of it
had it in their power even to shake the foundations of his
throne, he resolved to unite himself to it, and was accord-
ingly declared its head, and in the year 1577 he took the
field as the leader of the Catholics. This circumstance
was probably favourable to the temporary tranquillity of
the kingdom ; for the dilatory, feeble, and indecisive cha-
racter of the king, prevented the troops of the League
from acting '^ith vigour or success, and a new peace was
brought about, which, though less favourable than the for-
mer to the Protestants, was equally displeasing to the lea-
ders of the Catholics. The king, now suspected by both
parties, retained little weight or influence; while the Duke
of Guise on one side, and the king of Navarre on the other,
engaged by degrees the bulk of the nation to enlist them-
selves, either with the Protestants or Catholics. Foreign
aid was also called in by both ; the Protestants being en-
couraged and supplied with money by Queen Elizabeth ;
and Philip IL of Spain declaring himself Protector of the
League, and entering into the closest correspondence with
the Duke of Guise.

In 1581, hostilities between the two parties commenced,
and the King of Navarre signalized himself at the siege
of Cahors. About the same time, the Duke of Anjou,
Henry's brother, secretly retired from France, to put him-
self at the head of the Dutch, who had risen against Philip
II.; but his caprice and perfidy disappointed the hopes
■which he entertained, and he was obliged to return into
France, where he soon afterwards died. This event com-
pletely unfolded the real views of the members of the
League ; for as the king of Navarre, by the death of the
Duke of Anjou, was presumptive heir of the ciown, they
inflamed the people with the dread of an heretic sovereign,
and avowed their resolution to support the pretensions of
the Cardinal of Bourbon, uncle to the King of Navarre, a

Vol. IX. Paut. I.

zealous Papist, but incapable from age and weakness, of
holding the reins of government. Iil the proclamations
issued by the League, the character of the king of France
was not spared ; he was held up to his subjects as debauch-
ed,— the instrunicnt of imworthy favourites, and especially
as the secret friend of the King of Navarre, and the pro-
tector of the sectaries of Geneva. Tiie people were led
away by these representations, and filled with the most
violent bigotry.

In 1584, the Duke of Guise, as the general of the
League, took tlie field ; and though his army scarcely ex-
ceeded 5000 men, he gained possession of Verdun, but he
was repulsed from Rletz by the Duke D'Epcrnon. Il
Henry had taken advantage of this, he might have re-es-
tablished his power; but he was no longer capable of any
great or arduous enterprise, and he concluded a peace on
the most dishonourable terms ; agreeing to compel the
Protestants to restore the cautionary towns, to annul all
the edicts in their favour, and to join the League with all
his forces. He thus virtually resigned his sovereign au-
thority into the hands of the Duke of Guise, who nomi-
nated a council of 16 citizens for the government of the
capital, and intimated to them his wish that they should
take measures for dethroning their sovereign, and bestow-
ing the crown on himself. In pursuance of this design,
the inhabitants of Paris presented a memorial, in which
they required the King to declare openly for the League,
—to revive the Coiuicil of Trent, — to establish the inquisi-
tion, and to extirpate heresy : so low were the power and
the firmness of mind of Henry sunk, that he promised to
take this memorial into consideration.

In 1588, the Duke of Guise had the audacity, contrary
to the express commands of his sovereign, to enter the
city of Paris amidst the loud and universal acclamations of
the citizens, and demanded an audience of him. To this,
however, Henry would not consent ; his timid spirit was
at length roused ; he declared that the death of the Duke
of Guise should be the consequence of his forcing this in-
terview. Catherine now interposed her authority, and even
her tears ; but in vain. Henry remained inflexible, till at
length the Duke, afraid that he had passed even the limits
of the king's pussillaniniity, and sensible of his danger, en-
deavoured to disarm the royal rage by submission. He was
permitted to retire; but his soul breathed indignation and re-
venge, and he instantly prepared for the most decisive and
determined measures. Henry, at this juncture, had given
orders for 6000 of the troops, on whose fidelity he could
place the utmost reliance, to enter Paris : the citizens took
the alarm ; they were conscious of the punishment which
they deserved for their insolent behaviour to their sove-
reign ; they flew to arms ; the capital became the scene of
the greatest confusion and alarm ; the soldiers were sur-
rounded and overcome. Catherine now saw, that if she
did not interfere, the life of her son would probably be
sacrificed ; she therefore entered into a private negociation
with the Duke, while Henry quitted the palace, and effect-
ed his escape through the gardens of the Thuilleries. It
is said that when he was safe, turning back to look at his
capital, he declared that he would never enter it again ex-
cept through a breach in its walls.

From Paris the king retired to Chartres, whence he ap-
pealed to the loyalty and duty of his subjects. His ap-
peals were answered by the manifestoes of the Duke of
Guise ; but, in the midst of these mutual accusations, the
efforts and intrigues of Catherine were directed to an ac-
commodation, which she could not expect would be sin-
cere or lasting on either side, but from which she hoped
to derive advantages to her own cause. A treaty was ac-
cordingly entered into between the King and his rebellious

298

FRANCE.

subjects, according to which the Duke of Guise was ap-
pointed licutenaMt-generai of the Ficncli aiiiiies; the Cardi-
nal of Bourbun was declared first prince of the blood; and tlie
severest penalties were denounced against those who had
presumed to leave the ancient and established religion of
the country. From these terms, it is evident, that the
Duke of Guise had obtained all he could wish, or had
taken up arms for. He was confirmed in the chief com-
inand of the army, and the King of Navarre was excluded
from the throne H'.nry was soon made sensible of the
ignominious conditions to which, by the advice of his mo-
th* r, he had consented ; and he breathed vengeance against
the Duke, while he excluded Catherine from his councils.
In this dilemma, he had recourse to a most bold and unex-
pected measure, which indicated a greater portion of de-
cision and policy than it was supposed he possessed. He
assembled the states at Blois ; and though the greatest
number of those who met were the partisans of the
League, he boldly made his appeal to them, dwelling in
the most animated and forcible manner on the distress into
which he had been brought by the seditious conduct of the
house of Lorraine. Had his future conduct corresponded
with his behaviour before the slates, he probably would
have roused the latent loyalty of his subjects; but, on the
remonstrances of the Duke of Guise, he softened the most
obnoxious passages of his address before it was circulated
through the kingdom.

Soon after this, having received intelligence that the
Duke had held a secret and treasonable correspondence
with the Duke of Savoy, he came to the determination to
get rid of him, if possible, by assassination ; he according-
ly summoned the few friends in whom he could place con-
fidence, or from whom he could expect the perpetration of
this deed. Most of these advising the King to pursue the
measure which he had suggested, Grillon, who command-
ed the royal guards, was first applied to, to strike the blow ;
but he replied, that he was not an executioner; " I will
challenge the Duke, and endeavour to kill him fairly."
Loigniac, the first gentleman of his bed-chamber, was next
applied to, and he readily accepted the commission, along
with a select number of Gascons.

Although the Duke of Guise was admonished that some
danger was impending over him, yet his firmness of mind,
and his belief that Henry would not dare to attempt his
life, induced him to attend the council to which he was
summoned. As he entered the cabinet of the king,
through a long and dark passage, six poinards were at
once plunged into his bosom by Loigniac and his asso-
ciates ; on which, exclaiming with a deep groan, " My
God, have mercy upon me !" he fell breathless on the
floor. His brother the Cardinal was also destroyed. As
soon as Henry was informed of the death of the Duke, he
said to Catherine, " I am now a king, madam, and have
no competitor, for the Duke of Guise is no more." Cathe-
rine only coolly asked him, if he had reflected on the pro-
bable consequences ? The death of the Queen soon fol-
lowed that of the Duke of Guise. In her 70th year, she
sunk into the grave, worn out, not merely by age, but by
bodily andr mental disorders, both of which had been greatly
augmented by the reserve which the King for some time
had maintained towards her. This her haughty temper
could not brook, — her mind became violently agitated,
and the pangs of disease were thus increased, while she
was less able to bear up under them. On her death-bed,
she at last discarded all intrigue and dissimulation, and
recommended to her son that line of conduct by which, had
he been advised by her to pursue it before, he would have
arrived at peace, instead of being entangled in civil war :
she exhorted liim to be reconciled to the King of Navarre,

on whose constancy she assured him he might depend j
and to restore tranquillity to France, by granting to the
Protestants the free exercise of their religion.

The assassination of the Duke of Guise was followed by
consequences which the King hud not anticipated, but
which proved the aptness of the question, which Catherine
had put to him when she heard of it, and the necessity of
having recourse to her dying advice. The great mass of
the people, with whom the Duke was a favourite, ex-
pressed their abhorrence of the deed in the most undis-
guised and violent manner; the majority of the nobles de-
serted their sovereign, and the clergy publicly reviled
him. Even his favourites deserted him. The doctors of
the Sorbonne openly absolved his subjects from their alle-
giance ; and rebellion was preached up as a sacred duty.
The Duke of Aumale was chosen governor of Paris, and
the Duke of Mayence, brother to the late Duke of Guise,
lieutenant-general of the state royal and crown of France.
Rouen, and the greatest part of Normandy, declared for
the League ; as well as Lyons, Toulouse, Marseilles, Aries,
Toulon, and the provinces of Brittany and Auvergne. The
Spanish ambassador openly supported the insurgents, and
Pope Scxtus v. excommunicated the King and all who
were concerned in the assassination of the Duke of Guise.

In this extremity, Henry at last determined to do that
which he ought to have done at the commencement of the
troubles ; he entered into a confederacy with the Protes-
tants and the King of Navarre. Large bodies of Swiss
and German cavalry were enlisted ; and the chief nobility
and the princes of the blood rallying round their monarch
at this critical juncture, he was enabled to assemble an
army of 40,000 men. Still, however, the superstitious
weakness of his mind broke out ; alarmed at the excom-
munication which the Pope had pronounced against him,
he solicited absolution at Rome. " Let us conquer," said
the King of Navarre, " and we shall be absolved ; but if
we be beaten, we shall be excommunicated." The King
of Navarre, also, strongly insisted on the advantages which
would ensue from immediately marching to Paris : His
advice was followed ; and on the last day of July 1589,
they invested the capital. The Duke of Mayence was
within the walls, with about 4000 regular soldiers ; and by
means of these, he hoped to inspirit and assi^the citizens
to make a formidable defence. But Henry pushed the
siege with uncommon vigour ; and as the number of the
royalists in Paris was still great, the city must soon have
fallen, had not the desperate resolution of one man given a
new turn to the affairs of France.

James Clement, a Dominican friar, filled with that bloody
spirit of bigotry which characterised the age, formed the
resolution of sacrificing his own life, in order to save the
church from the danger to which he conceived it would
be exposed, if the King were permitted to live, in con-
sequence of his alliance with the Protestants. This man
had succeeded in getting introduced into the King's pre-
sence, under the pretence of important and confidential
business, and mortally wounded him, while reading some
papers which he had put into his hands. The assassin
was instantly put to death by the guards. At Paris he
was honoured as a saint and a martyr. The Pope ex-
pressed the highest admiration of this act ; and all the
Catholic clergy defended it as necessary for the safety of
the church.

As Henry HI. died without children, and the house of
Valois was extinct in his person, the throne passed to the
house of Bourbon, in the person of Henry IV. This prince
was born at Pau, in Berne, on the 14th of December 1553,
of Antony of Bourbon, Duke of Vendome, and Jane of
Albert, Queen of Navarre. He was descended in a right

FRANCE.

299

line from Robert of France, Count of Clermont, sixth son
of Saint Louis. When his mother was pregnant with him,
her fiUlier made her promise, that she would sing during
her delivery, in order, as he said, that she miglit not bring
forth a gloomy and unfortunate child. She complied witii
this whim, and, in spite of the pain which she suffered,
sung a song in the provincial dialect of Berne, even at the
moment when the child was entering the world. As soon
as he was born, his grandfather, taking him into another
room, rubbed his lips with garlic and wine, in order, ac-
cording to his notion, to endow him with a bold and vigo-
rous temperament. In the chateau of Coarage, situated
in the middle of rocks, between Begoire and Berne, the
young Henry was brought up ; and his education was
superintended and directed by his grandfather, till the
death of the latter, which happened very soon afterwards.
He was treated in the most plain and simple manner ; his
food being confined to brown bread, cheese, and a small
quantity of beef; his dress was that of the peasant boys of
Berne, composed entirely of coarse stuff, and made with-
out any ornament. He was accustomed to the most vigo-
rous exercise in all kinds of weather, and soon became
remarkable for the fearless agility with which he clamber-
ed over the rocks. Often was he seen, during his rambles,
with his head and feet uncovered. But the corporeal
powers and habits of Henry were not the sole objects of
the care and attention of his parents : his mind also was
cultivated, but in the same independent and useful man-
ner as his body. His mother, who had avowed herself the
protector of the Reformed Religion, invited to her all the
most distinguished Protestant priests in that part of France,
and the young Henry, who exhibited early indications that
he united a solid and clear judgment to a lively and quick
apprehension, soon made rapid progress. It is said that
one of the books in which he took the most delight, and
which therefore may justly be regarded as having ma-
teiially contributed to form his character, was Plutarch,
a French translation of which had recently been made by
Amyot.

When Henry ascended the throne of France in 1589, he
was in the 35th year of his age ; eloquent in council, in-
trepid in action, fertile in resources ; and distinguished by
wonderful sagacity, the love of glory and his country, un-
common frankness, economy, and talents for business. And
he had ample occasion for the exercise of all these quali-
fications ; for his religion prejudiced nearly one half of
the royal army against him. The Duke of Mayence, who
was appointed to the command of the League, after the
death of his brothers, might have assumed the title of
king; but he chose rather to confer it on the old Cardinal
of Bourbon. Under these circumstances, Henry was un-
der the necessity of signing certain propositions favourable
to the Catholics, and promising to listen with attention and
impartiality to the arguments of their clergy. Even after
these concessions, he found his force far from numerous ;
and he was obliged to abandon the siege of Paris, and re-
lire into Normandy. The governor of Dieppe opened the
gates of that city to him ; and the governor of Caen fol-
lowed his example. He was thus able to preserve a free
communication with England, the only power from which
he could expect assistai'ice.

The Duke of Mayence, sensible of the importance of
reducing these places, advanced into Normandy at the
head of 30.000 men; while the army of the king amount-
ed only to 7000. Henry therefore took refuge under the
walls of Arques, where he was attacked by the Duke.
Henry's troops, encouraged by the exhortations and ex-
ample of their sovereign, stood firm ; and the Duke found
himself under the necessity of retiring from the enter-

prise. Soon afterwards, the royal army was strengthened
by 4000 men fi'oni England ; and tiic Swiss cantons, as
well as the republic of Venice, acknowledged Henry as
king.

Being thus reinforced, he formed the resolution of
marching to Paris, in the hope of finding it unguarded;
and so rapid and secret was his march, that the Parisians
were astonished and intimidated at his appearance, at a
time when they thought he was far distant, and by no
means in a condition to act on the offensive. He insulted
the suburbs; cut in pieces above 1300 of the troops of the
League; and if the Duke of Mayence had not arrived,
would have made himself master of the capital. In con-
sequence of this, he retired to Tours; and the Duke in
Paris solemnly proclaimed the Cardinal of Bourbon King,
by the title of Charles X. though at this time he was a
prisoner to Henry. The next object of the king was the
town of Dreux, before which he sat down with an army of
12,000 men, in the year 1590 ; but being informed that the
army of the League, which was now reinforced by the
Prince of Parma, and consisted of 16,000 excellent and ex-
perienced troops, was advancing towards him, he raised
the siege and prepared for battle. With this view, he
posted his army at Ivri, on the banks of the river Eure.
His position here was so strong, that the Duke of May-
ence would have avoided an engagement ; but the citizens
of Paris reproached him with cowardice, and he was
farther stimulated by the presumptuous and boasting
speeches of the Count Egmont. According to him, the
cavalry which he commanded were alone able to conquer
the whole royal army. The Duke, thus goaded on, gave
orders for battle. The conflict was long, and obstinately
contested. But the genius of Henry was everywhere pre-
sent, directing and encouraging his troops, preventing or
remedying the mistakes of his officers ; while, by his ex-
ample, he taught the lowest of his followers what he ex-
pected from them. " My Lords," said he to them, " if
you should lose sight of your colours, rally round this, —
pointing to a large white plume which he wore in his
hat, — you will always find it in the road to honour. God
is with us !" added he emphatically, drawing his sword,
and rushing into the thickest of the enemy ; but when he
perceived their ranks broken, and great havock commit-
ted in the pursuit, he cried out, " Spare my French sub-
jects I" The Count Egmont, with the greatest part of his
troops, perished on the field : 2500 of the troops of the
League also fell ; and the Duke of Mayence himself escap-
ed with difficulty. The Swiss alone remained firm ; and
after the battle offered their services to Henry.

Had the finances of the king been in a condition such
as would have enabled him to increase his forces, this bat-
tle, in all probability, would have placed him securely and
permanently on the throne. But his want of money was
so great, that he could not advance to Paris ; and hoping
to gain by treaty what he would rather have secured by
arms, he entered into a negociation with his opponents.
They, however, were not sincere ; but as soon as they had
profited by the delay, they broke it off. Two months had
now elapsed since the battle of Ivry, and Henry was only
beginning his march to Paris. As soon as he arrived be-
fore it, he commenced the blockade. The Parisians, not-
withstanding the death of the Cardinal of Bourbon, were
still most obstinately averse to Henry, and resolved to
suffer the greatest extremities, rather than deliver up thfe
city. In this resolution they were confirmed by the eccle'7
siastics, who, leaving their cloisters, formed themselves
into a regiment, under the command of the Pope's legate.
I'amine and disease soon began to assail the inhabitants.
The Duke of Nemours, who had been appointed gover-
P p 2

500

FRANCE.

nor of the capital, commanded the aged and infirm to leave
it. Had Henry refused a passage, it is piobalile that it
must have surrendered ; luit he rejected the counsels of
his officers, who advised him to drive them back with the
sword ; he even permitted the peasants and liis own sol-
diers to carry provisions secretly to the besieged. " I
would rather never possess Paris," said he, " than acquire
it by the destruction of ils citizens." In the space of the
Jast month of the blockade, famine had destroyed above
30,000 of the inhabitants; when the Duke of Parma, by
order of the King of Spain, left the Low Countries, and
hastened to its relief. On his approach, Henry raised the
siege and ofl'cred him battle ; but the Duke having accom-
plished the object for which he was sent, refused to fight.
Henry in vain endeavoured to force him to it, and even to
attack him with advantage, during his retreat; but so
great were the skill and caution of this celebrated com-
mander, that he retired in the face of his enemy, without
so much as putting his army into disorder.

After the retreat of the Duke, Henry again attempted
to get possession of Paris: but he was defeated in all his
designs, by the vigilance of the citizens, particularly by the
faction of Sixteen, by whom it was now governed. 'J'hus
foiled in his grand object, he began to consider his situa-
tion and prospects in other respects, and he found them by
no means favourable. When the Duke of Parma retired.
Tie left 8000 men for the support of the League. Pope
Gregory XL at the request of the King of Spain, not only
declared Henry a relapsed heretic, and ordered all Catho-
lics to abandon him, under pain of excomnmnication ; but
sent his nephew with troops and money to join the Duke
of Savoy, who was already in possession of Provence, and
had entered Dauphine. About the same time, the young
Duke of Guise made his escape from the castle of Tours,
where he had been confined since the assassination of his
father. When Henry was informed of all these tlircaten-
ing circumstances, he coolly observed, " The more ene-
mies we have, the more care we must take, and the more
honour there will be in beating them."

Elizabeth, however, was still a steady and useful friend.
She had, indeed, on the first prosperous appearance of
Henry's affairs, withdrawn her troops; but when she saw
him again menaced, she sent, in 1591, 3000 men under Sir
John Norris, and afterwards 4000 under the Earl of Essex.
With these supplies, joined to an army of 35,000 men,
Henry entered Normandy, and undertook the siege of Rou-
en. This town was most obstinately defended ; but at last,
when it was reduced to extremities, the Duke of Parma,
by order of Philip, again left his government, and advanc-
ing by rapid marches, obliged the king to raise the siege.
Henry on this occasion also offered his antagonist battle ;
but the Duke refused it, and began his retreat. Henry
pursued him, but the Duke, by wonderful generalship, in
bpile of the greatest obstacles and difficulties, a second time
made good his retreat into the Netherlands.

The subsequent year, the affairs of the king wore a more
promising appearance in Provence, from which his gene-
ral had driven the Duke of Savoy ; and in Languedoc,
where the commander of the troops of the League was de-
feated, with the loss of 2000 men. But it was impossible
that the kingdom should long remain in its state of confu-
sion and civil war ; even the Catholics began to feel the
bad consequences of the relaxation of all government.
The faction of Sixteen had hanged the first president of
the parliament of Paris, for not condemning to death a man
obnoxious to them, but against whom no crime was found.
The Duke of Mayence, on the other hand, had caused four
of the sixteen to be executed. The Duke of Parma, on
the part of the King of Spain, pressed the Duke of May-

ence to call an assembly of the states, in order to deliberate
on the election of a king ; and the Catholics of Henry's
party intimated to him, that unless he changed his religion,
they would no longer support him. The states were accord-
ingly convoked, and the Duke of Parma, under pretence of
supporting their determination, was preparing to enter
France with a powerful army, when the death of that ge-
neral freed Henry from a most formidable enemy. The
states, however, met at Paris on the 25th of January 1593 ;
but it was soon evident, that their deliberations and resolu-
tions would be \mder the influence of the Pope's legate.
At the meeting, he produced a bull, re<|uiring the French
never to elect Henry, even though he should abjure here-
sy ; while the Duke of Faria, ambassador from Philip H.
demanded the throne for the Infanta of Spain, on condition
that she married the young Duke of Guise. In order to
induce the Duke of Mayence to agree to this demand, he
was offered the duchy of Burgundy, with a large sum of
money ; but the Duke, unwilling to become dependent on
his nephew, disputed the powers of the ambassador; and
the parliament, roused from its shameful lethargy, passed
an arret in conformity to the Salic law ; which, being a
fundamental principle of the government, they insisted
could not be set aside, even under the pretext of religion.

Henry was now convinced, that even the greatest milita-
ry successes could not obtain for him the confidence and
loyalty of his subjects ; he therefore again declared, that
he was seriously desirous of being instructed in his reli-
gious faith ; that he was ready to embrace the truth, as soon
as he was convinced of his error; and that the incessant
war carried on against him, was the sole cause why he did
not employ all his thoughts on that important subject.
Conferences were therefore appointed to be held between
the divines of the two religions, that he might be enabled
to take, with more decency, that step which the security
of his throne, and the happiness of his subjects, imperious-
ly demanded. These conferences were held at Sureure ;
and, as the real motive for which they were appointed was
well known, the account which Sully gives is not improba-
ble, that the Protestant divines allowed themselves to be
foiled, or at least silenced in argument, in order to furnish
the king with abetter pretext for embracing that religion,
which it was so much his interest to profess. While the
Catholics contended, that there was no salvation out of the
pale of their church, the Protestants acknowledged, that
salvation was possible in the Roman church ; and thus an
easy triumph, and a strong argument, were conceded to the
Catholics. This conference, however, not being sufficient
to remove the scruples of the king, he afterwards confer-
red one or two days with some bishops ; took his resolu-
tion, and performed the ceremony of abjuration at St Den-
is, in presence of a multitude of Parisians — the people
flocking to witness the ceremony, though the Pope's legate
bad prohibited all men from assisting at it, under pain of
excommunication. A parish priest in the capital preach-
ed nine sermons against the absolution given to the king;
and in various parts of the kingdom the people were i-ous-
ed to rebellion, by the remarks of the clergy on that very
act which Henry thought would pacify them. The Pro-
testants behaved differently ; they were convinced that the
king could never succeed while he professed their religion,
and as they knew he would always support them, they pre-
fen-ed his powerful support as a Catholic king, to his weak
protection as a Protestant pi'ince.

Though the court of Spain and the Pope in vain endea-
voured to allay that satisfaction which was genei-ally dif-
fused over France by the conversion of Henry, yet this
event did not immediately produce all the beneficial effects
expected from it. The Marquis of Vitri, who, on the

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301

death of Henry III. had deseited tlie kuig, avid had been
appointed by the League to the coniniaud of Meaux, was
llie first man of rank wlio returned to Ids aUej^iance. Ho
liad often solicited the Duke of Mayencc in vain to make
peace with the king, as the cause of the war was at an end ;
and on receiving- no satisfactory answer, he resolved lo dis-
charge what he conceived his duty required of him. lie
therefore ordered the garrison to evacuate the town, and,
delivering the keys to the magistrates, he said, " I scorn
to steal an advantage, or to make my fortune at other men's
expence. 1 am going to pay my allegiance to the king,
and I leave it in your power to act as you please." Tiiis
short, but candid and honest speech, was received by
shouts from the inhabitants, of " Long life to Henry IV. !"
and the example of Meaux was followed by the cities of
Orleans, Bourges, Lyons, and Pontoise. When the depu-
ties from INIeaux waited upon Henry, they were so con-
founded, that they were incapable of speech, and threw
themselves at the king's feet. Having regarded them in
silence for some moments, Henry burst into tears, and, lift-
ing them up, said, " Come not, as enemies, to crave for-
giveness; but come as children to a father, always willing
to receive you with open arms."

The king determined to take advantage of returning
pros])erily to celebrate his coronation. As Rheinis was
still in the possession of the enemy, he was crowned at
Chartres. Almost immediately afterwards, the provinces
of Orleannois and Berri were delivered up by their re-
spective governors to the king ; and a singular accident
restored the capital to him. The Duke of Mayence hav-
ing been obliged to leave it, to cjuell some disturbances in
Picardy, had entrusted the command of it to the Count dc
Brisac. This nobleman seems to have formed the roman-
tic idea of establishing a republic in France; but his de-
signs being received with contempt by the chiefs of the
League, he delivered up the capital to Henry. Villars,
who had so gallantly defended Rouen, soon afterwards
opened the gates of that city, and proclaimed Henry king.
The young Duke of Guise also made his peace; and, on
the reduction of Laon by the king in person, Amiens, and
a great part of Picardy, submitted to him.

In the midst of his successes, his enemies resolved to
assail his life. On his return from Picardy lo Paris, John
Chastel, a scholar of the college of the Jesuits, struck him
on the mouth with a knife, as, in the apartments of the
Louvre, he stooped to embrace a nobleman that was pre-
sented to him. The blow was intended for his throat, but
his stooping prevented it touching that dangerous part.
Chastel was instantly seized, and delivered over to condign
punishment. On his examination, he confessed that he
had been prompted to this deed by hearing his preceptors
assert, that the murder of kings was lawful, and that as
Henry had not yet been absolved by the Pope, he ought
still to be regarded and treated as a heretic : hence he in-
ferred that it would be a meiit to put him to death. Father
Guiscard, on whom were found some writings, which
inculcated the same doctrine, was also executed, and all
the Jcsviits were banished by a decree of the parliament
of Paris.

In 1595, Henry entered the city of Dijon in Burgundy,
convinced that his life would be safest while he was in the
midst of his troops, and engaged in military affairs. Scarce-
ly, however, had he made himself master of Troyes, be-
fore he learnt that the Duke of Mayence, in conjunction
with the Spaniards, had crossed the Saone. He immedi-
ately resolved to attack them ; and conducted himself on
this occasion with so much boldness and impetuosity, that,
with only 1800 troops, he routed an army of 14,000 men.
In Picardy, hov/ever, his cause was not so fortunate ; the

Spanish army invading that province, and reducing seve-
ral cities of importance, wliich Henry himself, in compli-
ance with the ambition of his mistress, the fair Gabrielle
D'listrees, who wanted a principality for her son, was cm-
ployetl in a fruitless ox|)cditi<)n into Franche Comple. In
the bubse'iuent year 1596, the Duke of Ciuise surprised
Marseilles. When Henry was informed of this event, he
was so much transporteil, that he exclaimed, " Then I am
at last a king!" 'i'he Duke of Mayencc, suspecting the
siiicerity of the Spaniards, from their inactivity and want of
zeal, deternuned to separate himself from them ; but he
had formed a resolution never to acknowledge H"nry, till
that monarch had been absolved by the Pope. Henry, be-
ing made acquainted with his scruples, secretly suggested
to him to retire to Chalons, till his Holiness granted his
absolution; and the Duke had scarcely reached that place,
when the Roman Pontifl", fully convinced that Henry was
firndy established on the throne, absolved him in form.
The Duke immediately threw himself at the feet of the
sovereign, and vowed a fidelity which he proved to be con-
scientious, by his future conduct.

Soon after these events, the Archduke Albert, who was
now governor of the Netherlands, sent an army to besiege
Calais, which was obliged to surrender, before the king
could come to its assistance. This calamity was soon fol-
lowed by another still more grievous, for Amiens was tak-
en by surprise by the Spaniards. Nor were the demands
on the king's firmness and mental resources yet exhausted ;
he was harassed by the complaints of the Protestants, who
expected that he would have granted them additional pro-
tection and privileges; and the Dukes of Savoy and Mor-
ceur, still refused to acknowledge his authority, unless on
conditions with which he did not deem it proper to comply.
The king, at this time labouring under a severe indisposi-
tion, felt these misfortunes more keenly ; and his difficul-
ties were greatly increased by the exhausted state of his
finances. He was therefore under the necessity of assem-
bling his nobles, and making them acquainted with the real
state of his affairs ; " 1 have not called you together," said
he, " as my predecessors used to do, to oblige you to adopt
my measures, or implicitly obey my will : I have assem-
bled you, to take your advice, to which I will listen with
attention and candour, and with a firm resolution to follow
it, provided it will benefit the country." But the nobility,
though disposed to give their advice, were not in a condi-
tion to assist their sovereign in carrying into effect the mea-
sures which they recommended; they were exhausted and
dispirited. " Give me an army," cried he, " and I will
cheerfully sacrifice my life for the state." Troops they
could supply him with ; but, as he complained, bread for
these troops could not be procured.

In this critical and embarrassing situation, he had the
good sense to ajjpoint the Marquis de Rosny, afterwards
the celebrated Duke of Sully, superintendant of the finan-
ces; and he soon placed the king in a situation to support
the expences of the war. His financial measures were
wise and efficacious, at the same time that they were not
burdensome to the people. By means of them, Henry in
a short time was at the head of an army of 20,000 men, the
best appointed that he had ever commanded. Elizabeth
reinforced this army with 4000 troops ; so that in 1597, the
king deemed himself sufficiently strong to attempt the re-
covery of Amiens. " Let us go," said he, on setting out
on this expedition, " and act the King of Navarre ; we
have acted the King of France long enough." The enter-
prise was worthy of the talents of the King ; for the Span-
ish garrison was composed of excellent troops, and com-
manded by brave and experienced officers. As they were
sensible of the great importance of the place, and knew

302

IRxVNCE.

that on lliat act-oiuu the Archduke woultl maich to its re-
lief, they made a most obstinate and t^allunt defence. The
Archduke did indeed advance to it, but not being able to
force the French lines, ihongh his army was coiuposed of
25,000 excellent troops, he retired, and Amiens surrender-
ed to Henry. The next entcrprizc of this monarch was
against Douriens, which he also hoped to take: But his
troops were fatigued ; disease and discontent began to pre-
vail among them ; the works went slowly on from these
causes, and the unfavourable weather; the artillery could
not be brought up, in consequence of the badness of
the roads ; and the vigilance of the Archduke had pre-
pared the city with every thing necessary for its defence.
Henry, therefore, had scarcely begun the siege, before he
was convinced that it would be wise to abandon it; he ac-
cordingly disbanded the greater part of his troops, and
leaving his cavalry for the defence of the frontier, returned
to Paris. Here he was received with every mark of loy-
alty and attachment ; but his stay could not be long, for
Brittany still was in possession of the League ; and the
Duke of Morccur, of the family of Lorraine, nourished the
flames of sedition there. The King, therefore, as soon as
the return of spring permitted his troops to march, advan-
ced to Angers. The Duke, taken unawares, and deserted
by the principal part of the nobility, considered himself as
utterly lost, when the lucky thought presented itself of of-
fering his daughter, the heiress of his large estates, to Cx-
sar, the natural son of Henry, by his mistress Gabrielle
d'Estr^es. The King, glad of an opportunity of gratifying
lier ambition, readily assented to the proposal, and the nup-
tials were celebrated with princely magnificence at Angers.
The King of Spain, who had hitherto kept alive the
cival war in France, seeing the League destroyed, and
being broken down with age and infirmity, felt a sincere
desire for peace. As Henry was equally solicitous for it,
the mediation of Pope Clement was readily accepted, and
at his request a congress was held, by the plenipotentiaries
of France and Spain, at Vervins, a town in Picardy.
While the negociations were carrying on, Henry bethought
himself in what manner he might satisfy the Protestants,
without offending the Catholics, or exciting their suspicions.
This was no easy task; but he effected it in a wise and
politic manner, by passing the famous edict of Nantes in
favour of the Protestants. This edict confirmed to them
all the rights and privileges which had been granted to
them by former princes, and it added a free admission to
all employments of trust, profit and honour; an establish-
ment of chambers of justice, in which the members of the
two religions were equal ; and liberty to educate their chil-
dren without restraitit in any of the universities. The
negociations at Vervins were attended with considerable
difficulties, but these being removed, principally by means
of the Pope, Henry signed a peace, by which he obtained
the restitution of Calais, Ardres, Douriens, and all the
towns of France which Spain had wrested from him, but
at the same time gave up his pretensions to Cambray.

When this peace was concluded in 1598, France stood
much in need of repose. The crown was loaded with debts
and pensions; the country was uncultivated; the people
were poor and miserable; and the nobility, long accustomed
to a life of rebellion and plunder, were destitute of all sense
of justice, moderation, or loyalty. Henry, therefore, was
convinced, that a still more arduous task remained for him
than any he had yet undertaken ; and that it would be ne-
cessary to bring all his powers of mind into action, if he
wished to restore happiness to France. He was also con-
vinced, that the measures which it would be necessary to
pursue, would meet with violent opposition from all those,
whose habits and intere<its attached them to rapine and dis-

order; but he was neither intimidated at the greatness,
nor perplexed by the intricacy, of the task which he uti
dertook. No man indeed was better tiualified for it.

His object was single ; he suffered no thought or wish
to interfere wiih his desire for the public good ; and his
talents were of that description, that what he desired ar-
dently and sincerely, he could examine in all its bearings,
and ascertain every possible mode by which it could be
accomplished. He was aware that he must proceed with'
caution, and that many must be enticed to do or permit
what, if they were ordered to do or reasoned with, they
would undoubtedly oppose. Among all men of the mili-
tary profession he possessed great influence, from his
success in wai-, and his courageous and open disposition ;
while, to the nobility in general, he was recommended by
his magnanimity, gallantry and gaiety. The people loved
and reverenced him ; they were convinced, that all his
actions were directed to their good, and they even gave
him credit for aiming at it, when their ignorance or their
passions prevented them from perceiving in what manner
his measures would promote it. As the more violent and
factious had experienced his vigour and promptitude, they
were afraid to excite his suspicion, by opposing his
schemes. Thus he found himself in a condition to under-
take the mighty and benevolent work of regenerating
France, and of curing the wounds which a long civil war
had inflicted on her morals, her happiness, and her finances.
Still, however, the task was too great for one mind, even
of the highest talents and purest views. Henry, there-
fore, called to his assistance the Marquis de Rosny, whom
he created Duke of Sully. This justly celebrated man,
in some respects resembled his master ; and where he did
not resemble him, the difference was such as rendered
their dispositions and talents mutually beneficial, instead
of antagonist to each other. Henry was naturally fond of
pleasure, and of a volatile temper ; hence he required a
steady and thoughtful friend, possessed of more coolness
and perseverance than himself: this friend he found in
Sully. " Attached to his master's person by friendship,
and to his interest and the public good by principle, he em-
ployed himself with the most indefatigable industry to
restore the dignity of the crown, without giving umbrage
to the nobility, or tresspassing on the rights of the people."
As all these plans of reform and amelioration depended on
the restoration of the finances, Sully first applied his at-
tention to them, and, in a very short time, he exhibited a
statement of them so simple, clear, and satisfactory, digest-
ing the whole system into tables, that the King became
perfectly master of his own affairs, and was able, by a sin-
gle glance, to see all the branches of his revenue and ex-
penditure. As it was one of Sully's maxims, that every
man employed in collecting the revenue was a citizen lost
to the public, and yet maintained by the public, he levied
taxes in the shortest and most frugal manner; all the ex-
pences of the govei'nment were curtailed : but those which
were necessary, were paid in a punctual and regular man-
ner ; and he took especial care, that the King should al-
ways have so much in reserve, as could relieve hi n from
the necessity, on any unexpected emergency, of either
borrowing, or imposing new taxes. As all these measures
were the result of a comprehensive and well-digested sys-
tem, and as both Henry and his minister were convinced
that they were founded in wisdom, and would prove ad-
vantageous, they did not permit any deviation or relaxation
in their execution. The consequence was, that in the space
of five years, all the debts of the crown were paid ; the
revenue was augmented four millions of livres; and there
were four millions of surplus above the regular expend!-
ture in the treasury, while the taxes were much reduced.

FRANCE.

503

Though Sully was convinced that, while ihc finances of
a kingdom were embairassed, the operations of govern-
snent must be obstructed, aiid the people so depressed and
destitute of confidence in it, as not to co-operate with it in
giving due effect to its laws and regulations, and conse-
quently viewed the re-establishmcnt of the finances as a
measure first demanding his attention, he by no means re-
garded it as of the highest importance. His maxim was,
that good morals and good laws are reciprocally formed by
each other; and as he could not doubt, that good morals
constituted the real strength and happiness of a nation, he
resolved to secure them by enacting goodla\vs,and by every
other method which his penetration and sagacity could
devise. He was, indeed, not one of those politicians, who
coldly, as well as unwisely, regard the real strength of
a nation to consist entirely in its pecuniary resources, or
even in its powers to carry on war on an extended scale.
On the contrary, he was deeply impressed with the con-
viction, that, even looking to superiority among other na-
tions exclusively, that would be obtained in the most cer-
tain and direct manner, by cultivating the moral feelings
and knowledge of the people, so as, in the event of a con-
test which they regarded as just, their moral courage might
be in full vigour and activity. He therefore examined
carefully the existing laws; the effects which they produc-
ed, not merely with respect to the particular crimes which
they were intended to prevent, or punish, but also with
respect to the general influence they had on the opinions
and conduct of the people. He also inquired into the
mode in which they were carried into execution ; and after
liaving made these inquiries, he warmly co-operated with
the King, in repealing such as were hurtful or useless, and
in enacting others that were more effective and beneficial,
or that the circumstances of society demanded.

In Sully's character there was a grand and dignified
simplicity, which accorded better with the manners, than
with the feelings and wishes of Henry ; for though that
monarch, in his private life, was free from all unnecessary
pomp, and enjoyed himself most when the king was for-
gotten in the friend or companion, yet his gallantry and
love of pleasure too often led him aside from the path of
simplicity, and to prefer ostentation and show. Sully, on
the contrary, could not suffer himself to entertain the idea,
that luxury was not prejudicial, both to the moral feelings
and principles, and to the real strength of a people. He
therefore patronised most warmly agricultural pursuits,
and seems to have formed the idea, that an agricultural
nation possessed within itself all that was necessary for its
happiness and security, while its morals were carefully
guarded from laxity or corruption. To manufactures he
was a decided enemy, considering, that though they might
increase the wealth of a people, and its means of enjoy-
ment, yet that wealth must be obtained at the expence of
its virtue ; and the kinds of enjoyment thus acquired, must
be at the expence of that relish for the simple and austere
virtues, which alone could render them dignified, and truly
independent. But Henry, in this respect, acted differently
from the views of his minister ; for, contrary to his opi-
nion, he introduced the culture and manufacture of silk ;
and, before his death, it flourished so extensively, that it
brought more money into the kingdom than any of the for-
mer staple commodities. He also established, at a great
expence, manufactures of linen and tapestry ; obtaining the
workmen for the first from the United Provinces ; and for
the last from the Spanish Netherlands. His maxim was, to
give high wages and great encouragement, in other re-
pects, by making the workmen feel that they were at home,
and that they had an interest in the country. In order to
facilitate commerce, and promote the convenience of his

subjects, he built the Pont N'eul, and cut the canal of Bri-
are, which joijisilic Seine and Loire.

But Henry was not happy in domestic life. His Queen,
Margaret, sister to Charles IX. and Henry III. though she
succeeded in gaining the affections of every other person
whom she wished to attach to herself, yet failed to gain
those of her husband. She was uncommonly beautiful ;
possessed of a fine and ardent imagination, and of a deli-
cate and cultivated taste ; played on the lute with exquisite
skill, and danced with uncommon elegance and grace :
but she was violent and unguarded in her love of pleasure ;
and mingling the fervours of religion with the excesses of
dissipation, her time was alternately occupied by enthusi-
astic devotion, and unrestrained sensuality. Henry, coldly
averse to her from the very period of their marriage, was
by no means select in his amours, except when some wo-
man of uncommon beauty and accomplishments captivated
him. For some considerable time before the peace of
Vervins, Gabrielle U'Estrees, whom he had successively-
created Marchioness of Monceaux, and Duchess of Beau-
fort, had fixed his love. By him she had two sons and a
daughter. As Margaret and he were equally anxious for
a divorce, Henry entertained the thoughts of raising Ga-
brielle to the throne, and of legitimating his natural chil-
dren ; but when his intention was made known to the queen
and to the Pope, who had already agreed to sanction the
divorce, they expressed the most pointed disapprobation of
it. Henry, however, was resolute, and probably would
have persevered in carrying his intention into effect, had it
not been frustrated by the sudden death of his mistress.
His grief, at first, was inconsolable ; but he could not live
without feeling the tender passion. The next object of it
was Henriette de Balzac, daughter to Balzac Entragues,
by Mary Touchet, the Mistress of Charles IX. He imme-
diately created her Marchioness of Verneuil, and even
made out a promise of marriage, notwithstanding he was
not yet divorced from Margaret. This promise he shewed
to Sully, who tore it to pieces. " I believe you are turned
a fool," said Henry. " I know it," replied Sully, " and I
wish I were the only fool in France." Notwithstanding
this daring and virtuous freedom of Sully, Henry was so
sensible of his real worth, and sincere attachment to him,
that, so far from being offended, he added to his former em-
ployments that of master of the ordnance. At length, in
1599, the sentence of divorce, which he had so long and
ardently desired, was procured from the court of Rome,
But, by this time, Henry's passion was cooled; and re-
flection taught him, that he had been on the point of
staining his character and injuring his people, when he
made out the promise to marry his mistress. He there-
fore resolved to be guided, in his second marriage, solely
by the consideration of what would most benefit France ;
and, in order to effect this, and please his subjects, he no-
minated Mary de Medicis, niece to the grand Duke of
Tuscany. But having done this, in compliance with the
wishes of his people, and from a conviction that thus he had
served their interests, he did not scruple again to deliver
himself up to gallantry ; and his attachment to the Mar-
chioness of Verneuil was the frequent cause of disagree-
ments between him and his queen.

In the mean time, the intrigues of the court of Spain
gave him great uneasiness and alarm. His ancient and
inveterate enemy, Philip, vi'as indeed no more, but his suc-
cessor inherited his designs of molesting the throne of
Henry, and incited the Duke of Savoy to make war against
him. The Duke, however, soon experienced the evil con-
sequences of his proceedings. Bresse, Savoy, and Nice,
were immediately subdued by the armies of France ; and
in a very short time, finding himself not supported, as he

304.

FRANCE.

expected, by Spain, he implored the mediation of the Pope
to extricate him out of a war into which he had thus rasliiy
plunged. Ill 1601, therefore, a treaty was accordingly
formed, on condition that the Duke should cede to Menry
the coinitry of Bressc, an extensive territory on the banks
of the Uhinc, andpay 100,000 crowns to defray the expell-
ees of the war. The Duke, durinp; tlie war, had engas;ed in
a secret correspondence with ll'.e Marbhal IJiron, who, boast-
ing that he had placed Henry on the throne of Trance, did
not conceive himself suflici ently rewarded for his ser-
vices, and felt himself humbled, during peace, by his total
ignorance even of the lowest branches of learning. These
motives and ftclings operated to make him wish again for
war ; and even at the time when he was leading the
French armies into the territories of the Duke of Savoy,
he was engaged in a correspondence v.iththat prince. This
correspondence had not escaped the vigilant attention of
the king, who, when at Lyons, reproached him with his
seditious designs. The marshal acknowledged his crime ;
professed his repentance ; protested future fidelity ; and
thus succeeded in obtaining the forgiveness of his sove-
reign, who endeavoured still farther to awaken his grati-
tude, by the grant of a large sum of money ; and to keep
him out of the way of future guilt, by appointing hiin am-
bassador first to the court of England, and afterwards to
the Swiss cantons. But the Marshal had no sooner return-
ed from these embassies, than he resumed his ambitious
projects; entered into an alliance with the courts of Spain
and Turin; and succeeded in drawing over the Duke of
Bouillon, and the Count d'Auvergnc, natural son to Charles
IX. Circumstances seemed favourable to the plans of the
conspirators ; disaffection was widely spread through
France, in consequence of Henry's yielding to the influ-
ence of his mistress in the improper nomination to eccle-
siastical dignities ; his neglect of the Protestants ; and the
numerous imposts which it was necessary to lay on, in or-
der to support the state. These complaints in some re-
spects well-grounded, in other respects without foundation,
were listened -to and encouraged by the Marshal and his
associates; and as the counties of Anjou, Poitou, Sain-
tonge, Auvergne, Guienne and Languedoc, were in a state
of i-evolt, they already anticipated the overthrow of the
power of Henry. But their hopes and plans were disap-
pointed. They had employed a person of the name of La
Fin in their most secret intrigues, who, in a moment of
disgust, revealed to Henry the whole of the conspiracy.
Henry did not hesitate for the shortest period, in what man-
ner he ought to act ; but first went into the seditious pro-
vinces, and having overawed the people by his firmness,
or brought them back to their duty by his popular man-
ners, and by the recollection of what he had done and
suffered for France, he returned to Fontainbleau, determin-
ed to bring the principal conspirators to the block, before
they were strengthened by the troops of Spain and Savoy.
Biron was at this time in his government of Burgundy,
strengthening the most important cities in that province,
•when he received an order from Sidly, as master general
of the ordnance, to send back the cannon of Burgundy,
under pretence of new casting them. No sooner, how-
ever, were they transported beyond the government of
Biron, than Sully stopped the new ones, with which he
had promised to replace them. This first excited the sus-
picions of Biron, which were confirmed by his learning
that La Fin had had a priv.ite conference with the king. He
now lost all his courage and presence of mind; and though
he could not hope for the royal clemency, yet such was his
agitation, that he obeyed the summons of Henry, and along
with the Coi'nt D'Auvergne, repaired to Fontainbleau.
Henry still wished, if possible, to ^ave him; and, for this

purpose, endeavoured to lead him to a full confession of his
guilt, in order that he might justify his clemency ; but the
INlarshal w;'.s obstinate ; and Henry was at length compell-
ed to give way to the regular proceedings of justice. The
proofs being clear and positive, the judges unanimously
pronoiu)ctd the sentence of death. At the place of exe-
cution, Biron behaved in a manner by no means becoming
his situation, or agreeably to his former conduct; for he
was seized by alternate fits of terror and rage, and thus
disgraced in his last moments, the character of Intrepid,
which he had acquired amidst the dangers of war.

The Duke of Bouillon was yet in arms, and refused to
obey the royal summons for his appearance at court.
Henry, therefore, determined by his presence to reduce
this rebellious subject. Accordingly he directed his course
through the provinces of Auvergne and Limousin, and
approached where Bouillon was, before that nobleman sus-
pected he had left Fontainbleau. Astonished, therefore,
and unprepared for resistance, he ordered the governors of
the towns which belonged to him to open their gates, and
thus by his apparent sincerity succeeded in disarming the
resentment of his sovereign. Scarcely, howevpr, had
Henry returned to Paris, when the restless and discontent-
ed disposition of the Duke again broke out into acts of se-
dition ; and he found it absolutely necessary to crush him
at once and effectually. With a small, but well-appointed
body of infantry, supported by a train of artillery, under
the command of the Duke of Sully, he pressed forward to
Sedan; and Bouillon again began to consider his situation
dangerous. On Spain he could not rely ; the Protestants,
with whom he had been a great favourite, were shocked
at his disloyalty, and flocked to the standard of the King.
He therefore again threw himself on the royal mercy, and,
however unworthy, obtained it.

Henry about this period, experienced a greater share of
domestic unhappiness than ever. The temper and habits
of the Queen were utterly at vaiiance with his. She was
cold, indifferent, and reserved ; blindly attached to her Ita-
lian favourites, and I'egardless of the wishes or interests of
the King. Such a temper and conduct were ill calculated
to draw him from those amours, to which he was so much
addicted. The Queen complained of them, at the very
time when she was rendering her own society repelling
and disagreeable to her husband. Hence the inmost re-
cesses of the palace were disturbed by their mutual and
incessant complaints ; and Sully, whose good offices were
always required on these occasions, often found the utmost
difficulty in accommodating these quarrels. The King,
wearied out with the arrogance of the Marchioness of
Verneuil, sought a new mistress ; and was captivated by
the wit and sprightliness of the daughter of the constable,
Charlotte de Montmorency. So ardent was his passion
for this lady, and so completely did it obscure his good
sense, and pollute the purity and honour of his mind, that
he formed the disgraceful resolution of marrying her to
the Prince of Conde, that thus he might introduce her into
his own family. The Prince, soon after his marriage, dis-
covered that Henry was still attached to his wife, and he
desired leave to quit the court. This the King positively
refused, and thus confirmed the suspicions of the Prince,
who immediately formed the plan of secretly escaping with
his wife beyond the limits of the kingdom. He reached
Landrecy in safety, when the King, hearing of his flight,
and transported with rage and grief, dispatched the captain
of his guards to demand the fugitives from the Archduke ;
but Albert replied, " that he had never violated the laws
of nations on any occasion whatever, and that he could not
begin with a prince of the blood royal of France." The
Prince and his wife afterwards took up their abode at

FRANCE.

305

Brussels; but Henry, instead of being- recalled to a sense of
duty and respect for liis own cliaracter by the reply of tlie
Archduke, first iiicirectually attempted to carry off the
Princess, and then commanded the parliament to pass an
arret against the Prince, and to condemn him to suffer
whatever punishment he might chusc to inflict.

In 1609, a dispute arose concerning the succession to
the duchies of Cleves and Julicrs, which afforded Henry
a pretext for taking up arms, and with the I'cal view of
bumbling the House of Austria, and circumscribing its
power in Italy and Germany. On the death of John Wil-
liam, Duke of Cleves, a number of competitors arose ; and
it appearing to two of them, who were Protestant princes,
that the Emperor meant to take possession of the vacant
territory, they applied first to the Evangelical Union, a
confederacy of Protestants, which had been recently formed
in Germany, and, as the Emperor was in alliance with the
Pope and the King of Spain, afterwards to France. Henry
now had a sufficient excuse for breaking openly with the
House of Austria; and the refusal of the Archduke to
deliver up the Prince and Princess of Conde happening at
the same time, private revenge united with public policy
in inducing him to receive the Protestant envoys most fa-
vourably for their wishes. He therefore renewed his an-
cient alliance with the United Provinces, and cultivated
the friendship of England ; while the Protestant princes of
Germany readily united with him in his plan for humbling
the House of Austria. Even the Duke of Savoy, induced
by the expectation of acquiring the duchy of Milan, if it
could be wrested from Austria, agreed to join the confede-
racy, and to give up Savoy to France ; and the Italian
states, long worn out by continued warfare, and constantly
exposed to irruptions from Germany, Spain, and France,
associated in the design, in the hope of possessing undis-
turbed tranquillity and national independence for the future.
But it is highly probable, that the design of Henry went
much farther, than merely to humble the pride, and reduce
the resources and strength of ihe House of Austria. This
might have been the immediate and primary object, but
there is good reason to believe that the plan of a Christian
commonwealth, as it is exhibited in Sully's Memoirs, v.'as
seriously entertained by Henry.

Concerning this scheme, there have been various ideas.
To some it appears so romantic, that they cannot believe
that it ever actually engaged the attention, or excited the
hopes of such men as Henry and Sully; but that a plan
was really formed, which was known by the appellation of
the grand design, there can be no douln. According to it,
Europe was to be divided into fifteen states, so arranged
with respect to situation, and so poised with respect to
strength and resources, that there would either be no
grounds for war, or no probability of any state carrying it
on with success. In order to compose these 15 states, the
smaller ones were to be united with the greater, and all of
them were to be bound together by a well-digested system,
such as would render it the interest of all to preserve
peace. When we seriously reflect on the romantic nature
of this plan, it is scarcely possible to conceive it could have
been entertained by Henry or Sully ; and we are compell-
ed to believe, that its object was at the same time more
practicable, and less disinterested. In fact, if we consider
the knowledge of mankind, which they both possessed ;
tlie experience they had of the difficulties attending even
the arrangement of petty concerns, where different states
were interested, and the little probability that any object
not connected with the interest of France, would rouse
their attention, or excite their wishes ; we shall be in-
duced to believe, that the aggrandizement of their own
country, was the final end at which they aimed in their
Vol. IX. Pakt I.

grand design. Or, if this conclusion cannot be admitted,
there seems no doubt, that the fifteen associated states in-
to which Europe was to be divided, were to be formed
solely by means of compulsion ; and that the wishes and
the interests of those concerned, at least of the inferior
states, were not to be consulted.

That the object, whatever it was, which Henry had in
view, was to be reached by force of arms, is evident by the
great preparations which he made at this time. Besides
the armies which his allies promised to bring into the
field, he himself had 40,000 men, chiefly veteran and well-
disciplined troops. Sully assured him there were forty
millions in the treasury ; and added, " If you do not in-
crease your army beyond 40,000, I will engage to supply
you with money sufficient for the prosecution of the war,
withoiit being under the necessity of imposing any new

Henry resolved to command his army in person, and ac-
cordingly made preparations for setting out from his capi-
tab He appointed the Queen regent ; but she insisting on
being crowned before his departure, his stay in the capital
was necessarily prolonged. In the mean time, as his route
lay through Flanders, he demanded permission from the
Archduke Charles to march through his territories; though
the court of Austria must have entertained suspicions of
the real object of so great an armament, and such immense
preparations, yet, as the Archduke was not prepared for
resistance, he answered in terms of respectful acquies-
cence. Nothing now retarded his departure, but the coro-
nation of the queen. Sully informs us, the thoughts of
this ceremony disquieted him greatly, and that he felt an
inward, unaccountable, and obscure dread of some ap-
proaching misfortune. It is probable that the greatness of
the object which he had in view, might have impressed his
manners and countenance with unusual gravity; and that
this afterwards was attributed to a presentiment of his fate.
At the same time, it must be admitted, that the recollec-
tion of the narrow escapes which he had often made, and
of the opportunity which a crowd afforded of attacking his
life, could hardly fail to arise in his mind ; and if it did
occur, must have rendered him unquiet and melancholy.
Besides, he had often been displeased with the attention
and indulgence which the queen displayed to her Italian
favourites : and he might apprehend that, during his ab-
sence, they would conduct themselves with more than
their usual audacity, and excite the murmurs of the peo-
ple. Notwithstanding these apprehensions, however, and
the dislike which he uniformly expressed, and sincerely
felt, for pageantry and ostentation, he agreed that the co-
ronation should take place, and even to be present at it.
The ceremony was accordingly performed on Thursday,
the 13th May, 1610, with the utmost magnificence. The
next Sunday was fixed for the public entry of the queen,
and on the Wednesday following, Henry had resolved to
quit Paris, and to put himself at the head of his army.

But the termination of the life of this really great king
was near at hand. Francis Ravilliac had travelled from
Angouleroe, his native province, to Paris, in order to pro-
cure a livelihood; but being disappointed, and reduced to
extreme poverty and wrelcliedness, he conceived the de-
sign of arming his band against the King of France. Soon
after he arrived in the capital, he conducted himself in such
a manner as plainly proved him to be a wild and frantic
visionary ; and this frame of miad must have been render-
ed still more predominating by the distress under whicli
he laboured. Being a bigotted Catholic, he regarded Hen-
ry, as he was going to assist the Protestants, as still a here-
tic at heart. Thus maddened by enthusiasm, distress, and
bigotry, he watci«ed an opportunity of striking the fatal

306

FRANCE

blow. Henry had proposed to visit the arsenal on the
morning of the day after the coronation ; but he postponed
his intention, in consequence of the indisposition of Sully,
till the afternoon, when, finding himself disquieted and rest-
less, he ordered his coach ; and, accompanied by the
Dukes of Epenion and Montbazon, the Marshals Lavardin
and Roquelaire, the Marquises de la Force and Mirabeau,
and Du Plessis, Liancourt, iiis master of the horse, he de-
termined to proceed to the arsenal. The captain of the
guards was ordered to the palace to hasten the prepara-
tions for the queen's entry ; and the carriage was escorted
only by a small number of gentlemen on horseback and the
royal footmen. That the king might have a full and un-
obstructed view of the various ornaments and devices
which the citizens had prepared on the occasion, the cur-
tains of the carriage were drawn up on every side. No in-
terruption took place till they came to a narrow street,
where the coach was stopped by the accidental meeting of
two carts. Most part of the attendants, on this, took a nearer
way, and only two footmen were left, one of whom went
forward to clear the passage, and the other was accidental-
ly detained behind. Ravilliac, who had been watching a
fit opportunity to execute his purpose, instantly slept for-
ward, mounted tlie v.heel of the carriage, and, as the king
turned to read a letter to the Duke of Epernon, he stabbed
him over the Duke's shoulder. Henry had scarcely time
to exclaim, " I am wounded 1" before a second blow, more
fatally directed, pierced his heart ; and, breathing only a
deep sigh, he sunk down lifeless. The assassin did not
attempt to escape, but remained supporting himself on the
wheel of the coach, with the bloody knife in his hand, till
he was seized. He would immediately have been torn in
pieces by the king's attendants, had not the Duke of Eper-
non interfered. The same nobleman quieted the appre-
hensions of the multitude, by assuring them that the king
was merely wounded, and that they were carrying him to
the Louvre, in order to have his wounds dressed. The
crowd instantly gave way ; and the body being conveyed
to the palace, was laid upon a bed ; but it is said, that it
was soon deserted by most of those who so lately had court-
ed the protection and favour of their sovereign.

The most dreadful tortures were inflicted on Ravilliac :
his bones were broken by the arms of the executioner: his
flesh was torn by hot pincers : into the wounds thus made,
scalding lead and oil were poured ; and his mangled body,
still quivering with life, was delivered to be torn to pieces
by four horses. Even after all these excrutiating torments,
the vital principle was not destroyed, when the multitude,
mad with rage, rushed through the guards, and in an in-
stant the last spark of life was extinguished. In the midst
of all his torments, he persisted, that it was entirely his
own act, and that he had no accomplice; declaring, that,
" impressed with the idea that the armaments of Henry
were destined against the Catholic church, he alone had
planned, and was privy to the deed, but that he was now
convinced of his guilt, and trusted that his sufferings in
this world would atone for it."

Of the cliaracter of Henry, we have already sketched
the leading features, as well as pointed out the benefits
which, during his reign, he bestowed on his subjects; but
the extreme rarity of such an assemblage of excellent quali-
ties in a sovereign, will authorise us to recur to the sub-
ject. His master virtue undoubtedly was his love for his
country ; not a cold, abstract, or unenlightened love, but
that feeling which constitutes the rarest and highest order
of patriotism, which leads him, in whose breast it dwells,
to be zealous of his country's rights, to be anxious for its
happiness, and most keen and penetrating in examining
into the means that will best promote it : while such a per-

son is by no means blind to the imperfections or vices
which may prevail in it, but, on the contrary, convinced
that they are the enemies of his country's happiness, his
patriotism induces him to acknowledge their existence,
and to use his utmost eflbrts to extiipate them. Under
the direction of this warm and exalted patriotism, all the
talents of Henry's powerful and well cultivated mind were
brought into exercise. His chief weakness was undoubt-
edly his inorduiate passion for women, which led him into
many irregularities; but this v/as a blemish rather in his
])rivate character, for he never permitted his mistresses to
direct his councils, or to iuflucnce him in the choice of his
servants. It must be confessed, however, that the manners
of the nation, at least of the court, were rendered loose and
profligate by the example of his libertine coiiduct : and
this looseness of manners gave rise to other consequences
equally fatal ; for 4000 French gentlemen are said to have
been killed in single combats, chiefly arising from amo-
rous quarrels, during the first eighteen years of his reign.
As a general, his talents were undoubtedly high ; though
his success ought, perhaps, rather to be ascribed to the
confidence and affection with which he inspired his officers
and soldiers, than to the comprehensive plans on which he
conducted his campaigns, or the masterly manoeuvres
which he put in practice during an engagement. Having
been accustomed to the profession of arms from his earli-
est youth, he not only set an example of labour, sobriety,
and courage, but charmed the soldiers by his behaviour
and discourse, which entertained them by its sprightliness
and vivacity, at the same time that it convinced them that
he was really their father and friend. It is scarcely possi-
ble to conceive with what eagerness even the common sol-
diers endeavoured, by their conduct, to deserve his appro-
bation ; and it was not because they thus hoped to be sub-
stantially rewarded, for the least expression of praise from
him was hailed with rapture, and acquired inestimable
value.

Nor were the soldiers the only class among his subjects
who regarded him with the affection of children. The
same feeling towards him possessed the breasts of most
Frenchmen, — even of those who differed from him with
respect to religion, while he was a Protestant, and who sus-
pected his sincerity, when he professed himself a Catholic.
Of this, they gave such undoubted proofs, as amply to jus-
-tify the reply of Henry to the Duke of Savoy, when he
asked him what the revenue of France amounted to ? —
" To what I please ; for having the hearts of my people,
they will grant me whatever I ask ; if God sees proper to
spare my life, I will take care that France shall be in such
a condition, that every peasant in it shall be able to have a
fowl in his pot." The houses of some peasants in Cham-
pagne having been pillaged by the soldiery, the King sent
for their officers, who happened to be at Paris, and com-
manded them instantly to repair to Champagne, and re-
store order, and punish the criminals. " What," said he,
" if they ruin my people, who shall support me; how will
the finances be supported ; who will pay you, sirs ? To
plunder my people is to plunder me." He was extremely
attentive to his officers, and they did not hesitate to consult
him respecting all their distresses and difficulties. The
Spanish ambassador, expressing his surprise at finding him
one day almost besieged by them, the King replied, " If
you saw me during a battle, they then gather still more
closely round me.

But though he was thus affable, he knew when it was
his duty to be firm and resolute. A person of considerable
rank and influence asked a favour for his nephew, who had
been guilty of murder. His reply was at once dignified,
without being harsh. " I am sorry it is not in my power

FRANCE.

307

to grant your request. It becomes you to iicl as the uncle ;
it becomes me to act as the King. I excuse your request ;
do you excuse my refusal."

To these rare and excellent qualities of the head and
heart, Henry added a most prepossessing jjliysiognomy,
which at once commanded respect, and inspired all'ection
and cslccni. He was of middle stature ; of a fine complex-
ion, a broad forehead, penetrating eyes, an aquiline nose,
and brown hair, which however bcga)i to turn grey when
he was only 33 years old. On this happening, he remark-
ed, that the storm of adversity had early commenced to
blow against him.

Such was Henry IV. a sovereign who restored tranquil-
lity to his kingdom ; who put an end to the League, and to
the religious wars which had so long laid it waste, and ren-
dered the feelings and habits of the people barbarous, and
averse to regular and industrious pursuits ; who introdu-
ced order and economy into the administration of the finan-
ces, made himself beloved by Frenchmen, and respected by
foreigners ; and who, in short, reigned gloriously, in spite
of so many obstacles, so many disorders, and so many ene-
mies.

By Mary de IVIedicis he had six children, and eight by
his different mistresses, besides those whom he did not ac-
knowledge.

He was in the 58th year of his age, and the 21st of his
reign, when he was assassinated.

Louis, the eldest of Henry's three sons, by Mary de Me-
dicis, was only in the ninth year of his age at his father's
death, and consequently it was necessary to appoint a re-
gent. A parliament was held, at which the Duke of Eper-
non, laying his hand on the hilt of his sword, said in a
threatening tone, " It is still in its scabbard, but shall be
drawn, if the queen is not this moment granted a title,
which is her right by the order of nature, and the rules of
justice." The parliament intimidated, though the deci-
sion of this business did not properly belong to them but
to the States General, instantly passed an arret, appointing
Mary de Medicis regent. As she was a woman of a very
weak character, she soon became the dupe and instrument
of her Italian confidants and favourites. Concini, a native
of Florence, Marquis D'Ancre, afterwards Marshal of
France, and his wife Eleanora Galegai, possessed an entire
ascendency over her mind, and directed the affairs of the
state as they pleased. The Duke of Sully, perceiving that
he was no longer capable of benefitting his country by his
advice or services, and disgusted with what was going on,
indignantly retired from court to his estates, resigning his
offices of governor of the Bastile, and superintendant of the
finances; but he was persuaded, by his regard to the in-
terests of the Protestants, to retain his situations as Mas-
ter of the Ordnance, and Governor of the province of Poi-
tou. Still, however, when his experience or sagacity could
be of service to his king or country, he returned to Paris ;
and, on one of these occasions, the courtiers ridiculing his
dress and manners, he said to Louis, " When the king,
your father, did me the honour to consult me, he first dis-
missed all the buffoons and fops of the court."

The political conduct of the French court was now com-
pletely changed: Instead of pursuing Henry's plan for
humbling the House of Austria, the Regent, perceiving
that her conduct, especially in giving such countenance
and influence to her foreign favourites, created disgust and
discontent, and diminished her authority, determined close-
ly to connect herself with that family. Negociations were
opened, and eagerly pursued with the court of Spain ; and,
■while the young King was contracted to the Infanta, the
hand of his sister, the Princess EHzabctli, was engaged to
the Prince of Asturias. The Protestants immediately took

the alarm, auguring that their peiscculion would immedi-
ately follow this line of foreign politics. The Duke of Ro-
han, in 1C12, seized the strong town of St Jean, the gov-
ernment of which had been promised to him by Henry;
alleging, as a pretext for this violent proceeding, that the
Duke of Bouillon had removed the mayor, who was attach-
ed to his interest, and appointed another entirely at his own
devotion. The Queen, timid by nature, and conscious that
her power was still weak, immediately endeavoured to pa-
cify, and thus almost justified, the Duke of Rohan, by re-
appointing the mayor. The Prince of Conde, who, on
learning the death of Henry, had quitted his retreat in
Spain, and demanded the regency, as first prince of the
blood, had been tempted to forego his claim, by the bribes
of a splendid palace and a large sum of money. Still, how-
ever, he was discontented, and set himself against the Flo-
rentine favourites of the Queen; but being herself entirely
guided by the Count of Soissons, on the death of the latter,
the Marquis D'Ancre found means to attach him to his in-
terest.

In 1613, the Duke of Mantua dying without male issue,
the Duke of Savoy, who had long wished to obtain that
part of Italy, conceived that this would be a favourable
moment for the accomplishment of his object. He there-
fore attempted to seize Montserrat, an appendage to Man-
tua, which was also claimed by the brother of the deceased
Duke; the latter finding himself unable to resist his oppo-
nent, applied for assistance to the Queen of France, who,
in conjunction with Spain and Venice, prepared to support
him. The Duke of Savoy, imable to withstand the force
which they brought into the field, esteemed himself fortu-
nate in obtaining a peace, by resigning his pretensions to
Montserrat and Mantua.

This was the only instance of vigour which the court
displayed for upwards of four years. In this interval, it
was filled and occupied with the most shameful intrigues
which discord and anarchy, their almost unavoidable conse-
quences, spread over the country. The princesof the blood
perceiving that they were neglected, and sensible that their
united power was so great as to be equal to that which a
feeble court could wield, often raised the standard of revolt,
and as frequently laid down their arms, whenever the Re-
gent, conscious of her weakness, offered them what they
demanded

In 1614, the States general were assembled, in compli-
ance with the wishes of the Italian faction; but nothing of
much importance occurred. The clergy, indeed, strongly
urged that the decrees of the council of Trent should be
published in France, but they were not successful. How-
ever, they opposed and rejected, as a rash attempt, a mo-
tion made by the tliird estate, that no temporal or spiritual
power had a right to dispose of the kingdom, or to absolve
the subjects from their oaths of allegiance. An arret of
Parliament, which declared the independence of the crown
to be among the fundamental lav.'s of the kingdom, was
afterwards repealed by the assembly.

In 1615, the parliament had the courage to remonstrate,
in plain and strong terms, against the dissipation of the trea-
sure which had been left by Henry IV ., only two millions
of which remained ; and on the ruinous and unnecessary ex-
pences which were daily incurred. But an arret of coun-
cil was issued in reply, declaring that the parliament had
no right to interfere in affairs of state; and afterwards, the
King himself, on the representations and authority of the
attorney general, gave this brief reply : " It is my pleasure,
and also the queen's."

The king was now of age, but he still suffered himself to
be under the guidance and authority of the queen and her
favourites. In the following year, the embarrassments

Qq 3

308

rilANCE.

of the court were nuicli increased by llie oonduct of the
Prince of Coiule, who had broke out into open rebellion,
supported liy theCalvinists. Anarmy was assembled; but
as there was no vigour nor plan in the councils of the court,
the enterprise languished ; and had the Piinte persevered,
it is probable that Louis woidd have experienced consider-
able difficulty in reducing him to subjection; but after
publishing a most violent manifesto, he permitted himself
to be duped, laid down his arms, returned to court, and was
arrested in the middle of llie Louvre in 1616. The im-
prisonment of the Prince in the Uastilc awakened the sus-
picions and alarms of the Dukes of Vendome, Mayence,
Nevers, and Rohan, who, accompanied by a number of the
nobility, retired from court, and prepared to take up arms.
This was the signal for public discontents being loudly ex-
pressed; and it was farther inci'eased by the dismissal from
office of secretary of state, of Villeroy, an old favourite
and faithful servant of Henry IV., and by the promotion of
the Bishop of Lucon, afterwards the celebrated Cardinal
Richelieu, in his stead.

Scarcely had the Bishop taken his seat at the councils of
Louis, before he infused talents and vigour into all the de-
partments of the state. Three armies were immediately
raised, and took the field, to support the royal authority ;
the first in Champagne, under the command of the Duke
of Guise; the second in the Nivernois, commanded by the
Marshal IVIontigni ; and the third was entrusted to the
Count D'Auvcrgne, whom the queen, drawing from the
long confinement to which he had been sentenced by Hen-
ry, placed at the head of the royal forces in the Isle of
France. The Duke of Guise reduced Cliateau, Ponceau,
and Rethel. The Marshal defeated and took prisoner the
second son of the Duke of Nevers; and the Count sur-
prised and dispersed the scattered bodies of the confede-
rates, and shut up in Soissons the Duke of Mayence. This
nobleman, son to the celebrated chief of the League in the
reign of Henry, must have surrendered, had he not been
preserved by an unexpected event. '■

The Marquis D'Ancre, though deserted and despised
by all the nobility of France, had hitherto upheld his pow-
er in spite of their efibrts to destroy him; but he met with
a more dangerous enemy in yotmg Licenes, whose fortune
■*vas as remarkable as his own. Licenes had been placed
by the marquis himself about the person of the young
Jiing, into whose favour he soon ingratiated himself by his
assiduities, and the ardour with which he entered into his
childish amusements. The INIarshal thought that no dan-
ger of rivalship could be apprehended from one who was
occupied by such frivolous pursuits ; but this behaviour
Licenes only pursued, in order to conceal his ambitious
views and designs. He soon succeeded in inspiring the
king with a jealousy of the authority of the Marquis,
and in persuading him to shake off" the yoke of his mo-
ther. The resolution of Licenes to destroy the authority
of the Marquis, was strengthened by the refusal of the lat-
ter to unite his niece to Licenes's brother. From that mo-
ment his ambition was whetted by the spirit of revenge.
The king listened attentively to the repeated suggestions
of Licenes, respecting the removal of the Marquis and the
Italian favourites of the queen ; and was struck with his
representations, that his father Henry had regarded with
aversion their influence over her mind, and had only
been prevented, by her tears and entreaties, from sending
them back to their own country. Nor was this the only
topic on which he dwelt ; he insisted on the unpopularity
which the king was exposed to, from having imprisoned,
at their suggeslion, the first prince of the blood, and on
the calamities which were impending over France. The
restoration of tranquillity and loyalty, both among the no-

bility and the great mass of the people, he said, were
easy ; and the same means which would render the king
respected and beloved by his subjects, would put Jiim in
possession of that authority of which he had been so long
deprived. Louis listened attentively. At first, the habits
of dependence and submission in which he had been
brought up, rendered him timid and apprehensive; but
afterwards, the love of power, and a sense of his own dan-
ger, from the disturbed state of the country, made him
anxious to free himself from the influence of the Italians.
This resolution he immediately communicated to Licenes;
and, by his advice, he exacted an oath from the captain of
the guard to execute what he should command. Having
obtained this oatli, he informed him, that the royal orders
were, that he should arrest the Martjuis. He immediately
prepared to obey. By this lime, he, as well as his wife
and the queen, had intimation given them of the danger
which was hanging over them. The marcliioness, intimi-
dated, wished to leave France ; but her husband declared,
that he never would desert the fortune which had hitherto
befriended him. On the morning of the day fixed for his
destination, he had gone to the Louvre, surrounded by forty
of his favourites or dependants ; and was attentively employ-
ed in reading a letter, when the captain of the guard, and
a few friends whom he had associated with him in the en-
terprise, made their appearance. The attendants of D'An-
cre, supposing that the king was approaching, gave way j
and the captain of the guards advancing, arrested him
in the name of the king. Astonished, and suspecting
treachery, he laid his hand on his sword. This mark of
his resistance was the signal for his destruction : three pis-
tols were instantly fired at him, and he fell lifeless on the
ground. As the king was at a window where he could see
what was going on, his presence prevented the adherents
of D'Ancre from rising in their master's behalf. His son
and his wife were immediately arrested. The latter, in-
stead of being tried for her real crimes, though they were
sufficiently notorious, was principally accused of sorcery
and magic. The judge having demanded what charm she
made use of for the purpose of fascinating the queen, she
replied, nobly and truly, " The ascendant which a supe-
rior genius always has over a weak mind." She was con-
demned, and suffered the severest tortures.

The disgrace of the Queen-mother followed the de-
struction of her favourites. Licenes succeeded to the
honours and situations of D'Ancre; the captain of the
gaurds was raised to the rank of marshal; and the Bishop
of Lucon was compelled to resign the seals of secretary
of state. The submission of the Dukes of Mayence, Ven-
domo, Nevers, and Rohan, were among the first conse-
quences of the fall of the Italian favourites. Licenes now
turned his attention to the best means of securing the per-
manency of his high situation, and of ennobling his ob-
scure birth by an illustrious alliance. At first, he aspired
to the sister of the Duke of 'Vendome, the natural daugh-
ter of Henry IV. ; but he afterwards judged it more pru-
dent to lower his views to the daughter of the Duke of
INIontbazon, who with pleasure received as his son-in-law
the favourite of the king. Still, however, further mea-
sures were necessary, to make the nobility and people for-
get that one favourite had only been destroyed to make
room for another. Licenes, therefore, who had been cre-
ated Duke, assembled the states of Rouen in the year
1618, and abolished the most burdensome imposts : he also
appeared zealous to procure the freedom of the Prince of
Conde, in order to secure the favour of the princes of the
blood. By these proceedings, and by the appointment of
the DulvC of Mayence to the government of Guienne, and
the Marshal Ornano to that of Normandy, he succeeded,

FRANCE.

309

in a great measure, in accomplishing his object. The go-
vernment of the Isle of France he rescrvtil lo himself, as
allowing him, at the same lime, to attend to his interest at
court.

The Queen-mother, liovvever, was still formiciable, even
in her exile at Blois : and Licenes, consequently, co\ild not
deem himself perfectly secure. She entered into a plot
with the Duke of Epernon, who suddenly quitting Metz
at the head of 100 horse, and advancing to Blois, succeed-
ed in rescuing Mary from her captivity, and immediately
conveyed her into Angoulemc, at the very time when Li-
cenes had persuaded Louis to commit lieraclosc prisoner
lo the castle of Amboise. The king at first was highly
enraged, and resolved to recover his mother by force of
arms ; but Licenes, apprehensive that such a proceeding
would excite universal disgust and dissatisfaction, had the
prudence to oppose tliis resolution. The Duke of Eper-
non and Mary, on their part, were sincerely desirous of a
reconciliation with the king. In order to efl'cct this, Li-
cenes recalled the Bishop of Lucon, and by his inlluence
tranquillity was again established. The Queen-mother was
restored to liberty, and in lieu of the government of Nor-
mandy, she received that of Anjou : her adherents were
reinstated in their offices; but the Bishop himself, who
had been so instrumental in bringing about this wished-for
reconciliation, concealing his passion for power till a more
favourable opportunity, at present displayed the appear-
ance of an honourable disinterestedness, and refused to ac-
cept of any situation.

From the beginning of the reign of Louis, the Protes-
tants had been treated in such a manner, as justly render-
ed them apprehensive that the privileges granted them by
Henry IV. would be infringed. In 1617, the King gave
them great oRcnce by an arret of council, ordering the
restitution of the church lands in the district of Berne,
which the Protestants in that province had enjoyed above
60 years. Upon this a meeting was held at Rochelle, and
they resolved to erect a republic on the model of the
Dutch. About the same period, the people at large began
to murmur at the imposition of new taxes; and the nobili-
ty were displeased at the increasing fondness of the king
for his favourite the Duke of Licenes. The Duke of
Mayence retired to his government of Guienne; the Count
of Soissons, the Dukes of Vendome, Nevers, Rohan and
Retz, repaired to Angers, where the Queen-mother resi-
ded, who had already begun to intrigue again. The Duke
of Epernon also declared in her favour; so that she found
herself in a condition to assume a lofty and decided tone,
and to declare that she never would consent to any future
treaty, unless it were gauranteed by the Parliament of
F'rance, or by some foreign power. The King's character
fur indecision and weakness, on this occasion, had induced
the Queen-mother and her adherents to pass all bounds of
decency: But, to their surprise and terror, he acted with
vigour, activity, and firmness: assembling his forces as
rapidly as possible, he went into Normandy, where he re-
duced Caen, and prevented Rouen from joining the rebels.
Mary on this took the alarm; and the Bishop of Lucon, in
whom she still placed the greatest confidence, persuading
her to try the efl'ects of a new negociation, she deserted
lier party, and a new treaty, which confirmed the former,
was signed. The Bishop of Lucon, on this occasion, threw
off the mask which had so long concealed his aspiring and
ambitious projects ; and entered into an agreement with the
Duke of Licenes, to bestow the hand of his niece on his
nephew, on condition that the Duke should use his influ-
ence to raise him to the rank of Cardinal.

Licenes having thus succeeded in enlisting on his side
the great and useful talents of Richelieu, turned his thoughts

towards the reduction or the conversion of the Protestants;
and resolved, for tills purpose, immediately to have re-
couise to arms, while, at the same time, he did not neglect
every art of intrigue. The Protestants were apprised of
their danger; and scarcely needed the exhortations of the
Duke of Rohan, son-in-law to the Duke of Sully, and of
his brother the Duke of SoubesL-, to induce them to resolve
on defending their religious liberties at the haz.ird of their
lives. They were, however, deprived of the talents of Da
Plessis Mornai, who, in the reign of Henry, had distinguish-
ed himself by his ardour in the cause of Calvinism ; tor he
now declared that he could not conscientiously oppose his
sovereign, and from this conviction he surrendered the
castle of Saumur, which commanded the passage of the
Loire. The Dukes of Bouillen and Tremouelle followed
his example. The first enterprise of the royal army, com-
manded by the king in person, was the reduction of St
Jean d'Angeli ; this place was gallantly, though ineffectu-
ally, defended, for 35 days, by the Duke of Soubese ; and,
on its surrender, Louis had the magnanimity, as well as the
policy, to permit the garrison to depart unmolested. From
this place, in 1621, the army proceeded to Montauban, into
which the Protestants had thrown a numerous garrison,
commanded by the Marquis de la Force. The royal army
consisted of 25,000 men ; but the place was so gallantly
defended, that Louis, in spite of their most vigorous efforts,
was obliged to abandon the enterprise. Licenes died soon
after this shameful expedition ; and Lesdeguiers, who had
already deserted the Protestants, was, on solemnly renoun-
cing Calvinism, honoured with the Constable's sword ;
while the Cardinal de Retz succeeded to the presidentship
of the council, in conjunction with the Count of Schomberg.
The advice of his new ministers was equally hostile with
that of his old to the cause of the Protestants. The Duke
of Soubese, after the reduction of St Jean D'Angeli, had
put himself at the head of a desperate band, and ravaged
the country. On the approach of the royal army, he retir-
ed into the isle of Rhe, separated from the continent by a
small arm of the sea, which was fordable at low water :
this arm Louis crossed in the night, and stormed the en-
trenchments of the Duke, who succeeded in escaping by
swimming to the main land. Negrepelesse was also taken
by storm ; and all the inhabitants, without regard to age or
sex, were put to the sword. This cruelty, however, only
filled the breasts of the Protestants with deeper indignation,
and roused their courage to a higher degree of enthusi-
asm. The Duke of Rohan commanded in Montpellier,
and prepared to offer a most formidable resistance ; hither
the Prince of Condc marched with a numerous and well-
appointed army ; but Montpellier was defended as gallant-
ly as Montauban had been, and the prince beiield the flow-
er of his army consumed in ineffectual assaults. Rochelle
also, though invested by sea and land, still held out; and
Louis, lo prevent a second disgrace, listened to the advice
of the Constable, and consented to a treaty with the Pro-
testants in 1622. The edict of Nantes was again confirm-
ed ; the royal forces were withdrawn from the gates and
harbour of Rochelle; and the inhabitants of Montpellier
agreed to surrender to their sovereign.

The Cardinal of Retz dying about this time. Cardinal
Richelieu, by the influence of the queen, was introduced
into the royal councils: scarcely had he got a share in the
administration, (which in a short time he entirely govern-
ed,) before he formed three mighty projects ; to subdue
the turbulent spirit of the French nobility; to reduce the
rebellious Protestants ; and to curb the encroachments of
the House of Austria. But it was, in the first place, ne-
cessary to remove his rivals in the cabinet ; the care of the
finances, therefore, about which he was most anxious for

310

FRANCE.

the prosecution of his designs, Uiis taken ffom the Duke
of Vieiivillc, and given to Movillac, a man upon whose sub-
serviency he couhl completely depend : other changes of
a less inii'ortant nature were also made. His next project,
Ijcfore he entered on the execution of his grand designs,
was the expulsion of the Pope from the Vallelinc, which
he accomplished, regardless of the remonstrances of Gre-
gory XV. These, however, were only preliminary steps,
or rather intended as indications of the extent of his ambi-
tion and of his means ; but in order to put his grand (lesigns
in execution, it was necessary to preserve peace with Ent'-
land- JanTCs I. at this time sat on the Uuone of that
kingdom, and had determined not to bestow the hand of
his son Charles, except on a Princess of France or Spain.
Richelieu, aware of tliis, negociated, in spite of the courts
of Rome and Madrid, a treaty of marriage between the
Prince of Wales and Henrietta of France, sister of Louis
XIII.

He now turned his abilities to the destruction of the Pro-
testants. As the last treaty had been violated in several
respects by the court, they were preparing for renewed
hostilities, when a new subject of discontent arose. A roy-
al fleet was stationed at L'Orient, to block up the harbour
of Rochellc. This the Duke of Soubesc offered to attack ;
and if he failed, the Protestants were to disown his conduct.
He succeeded, and his brother the Duke of Rohan imme-
diately displayed the standard of revolt. A sharp but de-
sultory war was carried on, which was terminated for the
present by the mediation of the Queen of England ; the
edict of Nantes was again confirmed; the harbour of Ro-
chelle freed from blockade ; and the King of France agreed
that the King of England should guarantee to the Protes-
tants the articles of the peace.

A powerful faction now rose at court against Richelieu.
Not one prince of the blood was sincerely his friend. Gas-
ton, the Duke of Orleans, the King's brother, was his de-
clared enemy. The Queen-mother herself was become
jealous of him ; and even the King was attached to him
rather through fear than aff"ection. But the uitrigues of
the courtiers, thus supported and encouraged, could not
escape the vigilance of the Cardinal : he discovered and
dissipated all their conspiracies, and at last made himself
absolute master of the King and kingdom.

During these cabals, the Protestants, complaining that
the terms of the last treaty had not been strictly complied
with, displayed a disposition once more to render them-
selves independent ; and in this they were confirmed by the
assurances of support which they received from England,
where a fleet of 100 sail, and an army of 7000 men, were
fitted out for the invasion of France. These preparations,
however, were entrusted to a man by no means fit for the
enterprise, the Duke of Buckingham, whose measures
were so ill concerted, that the inhabitants of Rochelle, when
he appeared before their harbour, refused to admit his
troops. They were but a part of the Protestant body, they
observed, and they must consult their brethren before they
gave admittance to an army, of whose coming they had not
been previously informed. The Duke next directed his
force against the isle of Rhe, which was well garrisoned
and fortified, instead of attacking Oleron, a fertile and de-
fenceless island. Fie did indeed succeed in effecting a
landing in Rhe, but he left behind him the small fort of
Prie, which covered the landitig place ; allowed Thorias
the governor to amuse him with a deceitful negociation, till
St Martin, the principal fort, was provided for a siege ;
and then attacked it before he had made any breach, and
thus threw away the lives of his soldiers. He likewise
guarded the sea in snch a negligent manner, that a Fr«nch

army got over in small divisions, and obliged him to le
treat to his ships.

The Protestants were now at the mercy of Richelieu,
who had already, by separate treaties, secured the alliance
of Spain, and of the United Provinces. The army he as-
sembled was commanded by the King in person, attended
by all the principal nobility. The Cardinal himself, aspi-
ring to the reputation of a general, planned the lines of cir-
cumvallation, designed the forts, and directed the attack.
The citizens of Rochelle, animated by civil and religious
zeal, and abundantly provided with military stores, resol-
ved to defend themselves to the last extremity; and their
Mayor, Guyton, a man of experience and fortitude, took
the comn\and, as neither the Duke of Rohan, nor his
l)rother Soubese, were in the place. The Cardinal, find-
ing it impossible to reduce it so long as the communication
by sea remained open, attempted first to shut up the har-
bour by stakes and by a boom; but these methods being
incfi'cctual, he recollected what Alexander had performed
at the siege of Tyre, and erected a mole a mile in length
across a gulf, into which the sea rushed with great impe-
tuosity. The inhabitants, before it was completed, saw an
English fleet approach ; they crowded the ramparts in the
expectation of relief ; but the English Admiral, after throw-
ing in a small supply of corn, either through cowardice or
treachery, declined an engagement with the fleet of France,
and returned to Portsmouth. The Duke of Buckingham
then resolved to resume the command ; but while he was
hastening the preparations, he was stabbed by Felton. In
the mean time the mole was completed, and so strong as
to resist all the attacks of the Earl of Lindsay, who suc-
ceeded to the command of the English fleet. He was
obliged to abandon the enterprize ; and as the sails of his
squadron vanished from the view of the abandoned and des-
pairing inhabitants, they consented to surrender, after a
siege of 12 months. They were deprived of their privi-
leges, and their fortifications were destroyed ; but they
were permitted to retain possession of their property, and
allowed the free exercise of their religion, A. D. 1629.
Scarcely had the inhabitants opened their gates, when a
tempest arose so violent as to bury in the ocean that mole
which had been the cause of their ruin; so that, if they
had held out only a few hours longer, the pride of the Car-
dinal would have been humbled, and their freedom preser-
ved.

Richelieu, deeply impressed with the advantages that
result from quickly following up success, immediately af-
ter the fall of Rochelle marched into the other parts of
F'rance, where the Protestant party were powerful, or pos-
sessed the cautionary towns. He met with the most vigo-
rous resistance in Languedoc from the Duke of Rohan,
who, however, when he learnt that England had concluded
a peace with France, and thus abandoned the Protestants
to their fate, had recourse to negociation, and obtained very
favourable conditions both for himself and his party. The
Protestants were permitted to retain their estates, and al-
lowed the free exercise of their religion ; all the privileges
of the edict of Nantes were also confirmed to them ; but
they were deprived of their cautionary towns, as dange-
rous to the state. From this period is justly dated the ag-
grandizement of the French monarchy, which had suffered
considerable diminution by the power that the Protestants
had acquired during the civil wars. Indeed, it seems to
have been Richelieu's object, not so much to subdue the
Protestants, because they were of a different religion from
that established in France, as because they had erected
themselves into an independant community, and aimed at
an entire separation from the monarchy. It was in their

FlJANCi:.

political, not in tlieir religious character, that lic cliicdy
regarded llicni as enemies lo his plans ol" ai^grandiziiig the
power of the sovereign ; and that this was his view of
them, will further appear in the sequel, when we advert
to the assistance which he gave to the Protestants in Ger-
many.

As Richelieu had displayed an extent and variety of ta-
lent, during the siege of Rochelle, which lie was not pre-
viously supposed to possess, the King determined to com-
mit to his superintendence the care of the marine ; and for
this purpose he persuaded the Duke of Montmorency to
resign that situation. Tiiis department soon experienced
the beneficial effects of the comprehension of the Caidinal's
mind, and the activity and vigilance of his management.
But he did not confine himself to this or any other i)articu-
lar branch of public business. Indeed, the care of these
were only subordinate to his grand and daring designs;
for, having subdued the Protestants, he now directed his
thoughts to the humbling of the House of Austria. This
he perceived could be done most effectually, and at the
same time with the least risk to France, by supporting the
Protestants in Germany. There were, however, other
means, of a less extensive nature, which he did not ne-
glect.

On the death of the Duke of Mantua, the Duke of Ne-
vers claimed the duchy, as the next male heir; but the
Emperor thought proper to bestow it on the Duke of
Guastalla ; and the Duke of Savoy again urged his preten-
sions to the dependent marquisate of Montserrat. Both
■were supported by Philip, King of Spain. The Duke of
Nevers, in his distress, knew not where to turn for assis-
tance. He had incurred the suspicion of the Cardinal, by
uniting with his secret enemies in France. He was the
object of dislike to the Queen-mother; but Richelieu pos-
sessed so much patriotism, that he abandoned the sense of
his own injuries, refused to listen to tlie complaints of Ma-
ry de Medicis, and strongly advised the King to support
the Duke against the House of Austria. An army was ac-
cordingly formed : Louis placed himself at their head.
The Alps were passed; the narrow pass of Suza penetra-
ted ; and the Duke of Savoy, alarmed, and unequal to the
combat, was under the necessity of deserting his allies, and
of uniting his troops with those of France. Casal was at
that time besieged by the Spaniards ; and when Louis first
entered Italy, he meant to have advanced with his whole
army to its relief; but, upon learning that the Duke of Ro-
han had again roused the Protestants in several provinces,
he himself returned with most of his troops, leaving 3000
chosen soldiers for the protection of Casal. The Protes-
tants were soon reduced. In the mean time, the Duke of
Savoy, violating his engagements, had joined the Spaniards
in the siege of Casal; upon which the Cardinal, lately ap-
pointed lieutenant-general, and thus possessed of all mili-
tary and civil power, prepared to reduce him to submis-
sion. In a short time, his troops approached Turin; but
while the Duke was preparing for the defence of his capi-
tal, Richelieu suddenly changed his direction, marched
against Pignerol, an important fortress, which opened a di-
rect passage from Dauphine to Italy, and took it in 12
days. Louis now joined the army ; and, in a short time,
reduced the whole of Savoy ; which so afflicted the Duke,
that it caused his death. This circumstance facilitated the
progress of the French ; but their career was stopt by a
pestilential disorder, that carried off great numbers, and
enfeebled the bodies and minds of most of the survivors.
Notwithstanding this calamity, they were ordered to pro-
ceed to the relief of Casal, when the treaty of Ratisbon was
•oncluded, which established the Duke of Nevers in the

peaceable ])osscsblon of the duchy of Mantua, and the mar-
quisate of Montserrat.

The designs of the Cardinal against the House of Aus-
tria were now ripe for execution. The Emperor and the
Protestant princes of Germany were at war; the famous
(Justavus Adolphus of Sweden embraced their cause ; and
Richelieu, regarding this as an excellent opportunity of
humbling Austria, agreed to pay Gustavus an annual sub-
sidy of 1,200,000 livres; in consideration of which, the
King of Sweden was to maintain in Germany an army of
36,000 men ; to observe a strict neutrality towards the
Duke of Bavaria, and all the Princes of the Catholic
League, provided they did not join the Emperor; and to
respect the rights of the Roman Catholic church, wherever
he should find it established. Thus Richelieu avoided
giving alarm or offence to the Catholics, while he furnish-
ed the princes of that persuasion with a sufficient reason
for not joining the Emperor, since thus they would be ex-
posed to the hostility of Sweden.

While the war was carrying on in Germany, the Car-
dinal was employed in France in crushing the conspiracies
which were formed against him, at the instigation of the
Duke of Orleans and the Queen-mother. His vigilance
and activity were so great, that his enemies had no chance
against him. Mary de Medicis was banished the kingdom;
her son Gaston was obliged to beg his life ; the Marshals
Morillac and Montmorency were brought to the block ;
and the most arbitrary sentences were daily passed, in a
court erected for the trial of his enemies.

Hitherto France had not engaged in open hostilities
with Austria, though, if she had, it is probable the design
of Richelieu, of humbling that power, would have been
more successful than it proved to be; but jealous of Gus-
tavus, or the necessity of keeping a large force in France
to awe the discontented, prevented him from acting in an
open and decided manner, till the death of the Swedish
monarch rendered his efforts unavailing. It is also known
that Oxenstein, the minister of Gustavus, was unwilling at
first to give the French any footing in Germany. After
the unfortunate battle of Nordlingen, however, Oxenstein
put Louis in possession of Philipsburgh and Alsace, on
condition that France should take an active part in the war
against the Emperor. Richelieu also concluded an alliance
with the United Provinces, in the hope of gaining part of
the Low Countries; and he denounced war agauist Spain
A treaty was at the same time entered into with the Duke
of Savoy, in order to strengthen the French interest in
Italy.

In a short time, the activity of Richelieu had prepared
five armies for active service. The first and largest was
sent into the Low Countries, under the command of the
Marshals de Chatillon and Bregc; the second, under the
command of the Duke de la Force, entered Lorraine ; the
the third, under the Marshal de Crequi, entered Milan;
the fourth was led into the Valteline by the Duke of Ro-
han ; and the fifth, under the Duke of Saxe Weimar, act-
ed on the Rhine. But these immense armies performed
scarcely any thing corresponding to their magnitude, or to
the hopes and designs of Richelieu : indeed, they were too
great for the finances of France to support. The Cardi-
nal's household alone, which was more splendid than the
King's, swallowed up four millions a year. There was no
resource but in the wretched expedient of money-edicts;
and these were accumalatcd so rapidly, and to such a de-
gree, that at one sitting, the parliament were obliged to
register 42 of them, without examining, or even reading
them. The consequences were such as might be antici-
pated ; the armies in Flanders and Germany mouldered

;12

FRANCE.

away for want of piovisions. Tlic first campaign was
everywhere unsuccessful, except in the Valteline, where
the Duke of Rolian maintained himself with a few troops,
against the Germans and Spaniards, while the Marshal de
Crc(iui, though assisted by the Dukes of Savoy and Parma,
could make no progress in Italy. Richelieu, in order to
raise so many armies, was obli-j;ed to expose France, on
the side of Picardy, to the incursions of the allies. 'I'he
Spanish army, commanded by Prince Thomas of Savoy and
the celebrated Piccolomini, entered this province — passed
the Somme — made themselves masters of Corbie— and
spread terror into the capital. Richelieu, under these ca-
lamities, remained cool and unshaken, and put forth all his
vigour and activity. His own guards were dismissed; the
liorses and domestics of the wealthy, and the personal ser-
vices of the poor, were put in requisition ; and, in a short
time, 50,000 men were assembled for the defence of Paris.
The command of these was divided between tlie Duke of
Orleans and the Count de Soissons, who compelled the
enemy to repass the Somme, and retook Corbie. In the
mean time, the Spaniards ravaged Burgundy, and invaded
Guienne, but they reaped no advantage from these suc-
cesses.

Still, however, France had suffered considerably by
the war in which she had engaged ; and as Richelieu
was known to be the adviser of it, his unpopularity in-
creased. The Duke of Orleans and the Count de Sois-
sons, as soon as they had freed their country from the
Spaniards, formed a plot to assassinate him in the King's
apartment; and the blow would have been struck, had not
the resolution of the Duke forsook him at the very mo-
inent when the conspirators expected the signal for the as-
sassination. Scarcely, however, had the Cardinal thus nar-
rowly escaped, when he was exposed to danger from a
quarter where he least dreaded it. Father Caupin, a
Jesuit, confessor to the King, employed the influence and
opportunities which his character gave him, to exasperate
the mind of Louis, by representing the Cardinal as the op-
pressor of the Quetn-mother, the tyrant of the kingdom,
and, above all, the support of heretics : but this scheme
was soon discovered, and ended in the banishment of the
Confessor.

The war still continued, notwithstanding the Pope en-
deavoured to bring about a reconciliation. The Duke of
Rohan, not being properly supported, lost the Valteline.
On the other hand, the Count D'Harcourt recovered the
isles of St Margaret and St Honorat, on the coast of Pro-
vence, which had been taken by the Spaniards in 1635;
the Duke of Valette reduced several forts, which the
Spaniards had seized in Guienne; Marshal Schomberg
raised the siege of Lucat, and defeated Serbillon, the Spa-
nish general;- Cardinal de La Vallettc reduced Capelle
again under the dominion of France ; the Marshal de Cha-
tillon obtained possession of Damvillicr.s in Luxcmburgh ;
and the Duke of Longueville successfully advanced in
Franche Comte. The Marshal Crequi, aided by the Duke
of Savoy, defeated the Spaniards in Italy, under the com-
mand of the Duke of Modcna ; while Breda was obliged
to surrender to the Prince of Orange.

In 1537, Ferdinand II. died, and was succeeded in the
imperial throne by Ferdir.and III. who pursued the same
line of politics as his father: hostilities therefore were
continued. In the following year, the Duke of Saxe-Wci-
mar, supplied from the treasures of France, took the field
again ; but he was surprised and routed in the siege of
Rhcinfeld, where the Duke of Rohan, who served as a vo-
lunteer, from a friendship to the Duke of Saxe-Weiraar,
was mortally wounded. The latter, impatient to wipe off"
the disgrace of his defeat, collected all his force, and ex-

erted all his talents and skill ; and sooti conquered in his
turn. General de Savelli, and tlic famous John de \Vert,
who led the Imperialists, were taken prisoners; and the
towns of Rhcinfeld and Fribourg, the capital of the Bris-
gaw, were reduced. The siege of Brisac was afterwards un-
dertaken with the greatest confidence of success ; during
which, tlie Duke of Lorraine, and the imperial general Go-
cntE, attempted in vain to check the success of the Duke of
Saxe-Weimar ; and Brisac was foi'ced to surrender, after it
had been reduced to such an extremity that the governor was
under the necessity of setting a guard on the burial-places,
lest the inhabitants should dig up and devour the dead.

As soon as Richelieu heard of the reduction of Brisac,
he immediatcty formed the scheme of annexing it to
France; and accordingly made the proposal to the Duke
of Saxe-VVeimar. But this general would not part with
his conquest: " To part with my conquest," was his re-
ply, " would be to sacrifice my honour: ask a virgin ta
give up her chastity '." In 1639, the Duke died, not with-
out suspicion that his death had been hastened by the Car-
dinal, who certainly, as soon as it happened, succeeded in
procuring from his successor, not only Brisac, but Fri-
bourg also. Thus was the King of France, by the abilities
and intrigues of his minister, rendered sovereign of almost
all Alsace, and a great part of the Brisgaw.

To retaliate on the Spaniards for I heir invasion of Pi-
cardy, the Prince of Conde was ordered to lay siege to
Fonterabia ; but he was defeated by the Admiral of Cas-
tile, and with the remainder of his army, escaped with
difficulty to his sliips.

In 1641, the Emperor, though he pretended to be desi-
rous of peace, convoked a diet at Ratisbon, for the pur-
pose of concerting measures for carrying on the war. Upon
this the Swedish general Bannier, having joined the French
army at Erfurt, formed the design of dispersing the as-
sembly, and even of sui'prising the city. His march was ra-
pid and well planned. He arrived at HofT on the 5th of
January, and proceeding with the same celerity, he crossed
the Danube on the ice, and took above 1500 of the enemy's
cavalry. The Emperor himself narrowly escaped being
made prisoner. As Ratisbon was utterly unprepared for
a siege, the approach of tl-.e Swedes and French created
great alarm : They had planned to take advantage of the
frost, and starve the town into submission ; but the weather
changing, it was resolved to repass the Danube, before the
ice thawed. Bannier, however, ordered the general of the
French troops to advance as nearly as possible to Ratisbon.
and to salute the Emperor with 500 shot; an insult which
nearly deprived Ferdinand of all the powers of reason and
recollection. After this ineffectual attempt, the French se-
parated themselves from their allies, and marched towards
Bamberg. After the death of Bannier, they again united,
and under the command of Guebriant, defeated the impe-
rial army, led by the Archduke and Piccolomini, at the bat-
tle of Wolfenbuttel. As soon as Tortensten assumed the
command of the Swedes, the French again separated from
them, by order of the Cardinal, and Guebriant entered
Westphalia.

In the mean time, a new treaty was concluded between
Sweden and France, and the most vigorous resolutions ta-
ken for prosecuting the war. Guebrijnt crossed the
Rhine, and understanding that Hasfeld was on his march to
join Lamboy, another Imperial general, he resolved to at-
tack the latter in his entrenchments before their junction.
After an obstinate struggle, the Austrian infantry were bro-
ken, the camp forced, Lamboy made prisoner, and of the
whole Imperial army not above 500 escaped. The conse-
quf-nce of this victory was the reduction of nearly the whole
electorate of Cologne by the French. Their allies, the

FRANCE.

Swcdfs, xvore eqvially snrrcssf;il in Oonniny; so that the
Iin])erial court wss filled with conftcrn;\linn.

On the side of Spain, a Frencli army ciilorcd Uoiisillon,
and reduced Colonna and l-*crpis;nan. r.niiis himscll' was
at the head of tliis army, hy the advice of Ricliclicu, who
arcompauicd him as far as Narbonnc, wlicrc he ft-U dan-
gerously ill. Diirinn; his illness, a confederacy was formed
against him, at the head of which was Cint] Mars, whoso
lively temper, agreeable address, and liandsomc poison,
seconded by the recommendation of the Cardinal, had made
him a great favouiite with the king. Thus foi lunate, he
aspired to be made a Duke; and on the Cardinal opposing
bis wishes, he became his secret enemy. Cinq Mars was a
man of very weak intellect, and it is pi'ohablc that his in-
trigues would have been immediately frustrated by his in-
capacity, had he not been counselled by the son of the ce-
lebrated historian De Thou, by whose advice he connected
himself with the Dukes of Orleans and Bouillon, and soon
afterwards formed a secret alliance with the court of Spain,
Tvhich promised to supply the conspirators with money and
a formidable army. But Richelieu's system of vigilance and
detection was so well organised, that, even during his ex-
treme illness, it operated as powerfully and completely,
as if he had been able to superintend it himself. He was
informed of the plot long before it had assumed a danger-
ous aspect ; and he immediately persuaded Louis to return
to France, even before the fall of Perpignan, putting into
his hands a copy of the treaty which the conspirators had en-
tered into with Spain. Cinq Mars was arrested in Narbonnc,
and the Duke of Bouillon in Italy, where ho had the com-
mand of the French army. The proceedings against the
conspirators were carried on at Lyons, under the eyes of
the minister. Additional proof was necessary to condemn
them; the Duke of Orleans was mean and base enough
to furnish it, in order to save his own life. The Duke of
Bouillon purchased his pardon, by giving up the princi-
pality of Sedan ; but Cinq Mars and De Thou were con-
demned to death, and executed in 1642. Almost immedi-
ately after the execution, the Cardinal having received in-
telligence of the fall of Perpignan, wrote to tlie king,
" Sire, your enemies are dead, and your troops are in Per-
pignan." It is said that Louis looking on his watch, about
the time when Cinq Mars Avas to sufl'cr, said, " W^itbin
an hour, the great man will pass his time very disagree-
ably."

Richelieu having thus triumphed over his enemies, at
the very moment when he was himself approaching the
grave, returned to Paris; and as he was obliged to be carri-
ed in a litter, a breach was made in the walls of that city to
allow it to enter. He survived a very few days. On his
death-bed, he protested to Louis, that his counsels had ever
been directed to the honour of the crown, and ihc welfare
of the kingdom. The character of the statesman must have
sufTiciently appeared from his actions. His plans were un-
doubtedly comprehensive and profound, and in the execu-
tion of them he displayed wonderful vigour ; but he was
stained with the vices of ambition, hypocrisy, cruelty, pride,
and avarice. The Emperor Peter the Great of Russia,
however, considered him as such a complete statesman,
that on his visit to France in 1717, he is said, on viewing
the monument of Richelieu, in the church of the Sorbonne,
to have exclaimed, "Oh, great man, if you had been alive
now, I would have cheerfully given you the half of my
empire, if you would have taught me how to govern the
other half!" Mary de Medicis died soon afterwards in
exile and poverty at Cologne.

Some tinje before his death, Richelieu had obtained a
cardinal's hat for Mazarine, and had introduced him into
the king's council. It was therefore supposed that he

Vol. IX. Part. I.

would succccrl hi'! priiron as prime rniiiistcr ; but Loui-;
resolved to govern himself. The servants of the crown
wore retained in their situations; and the only change
which marked the death of the Cardinal, was the recallinf^
from banishment, and releasing from conlincment, the
princip.il objects of the Cardiml's resentmer.t and jealousy.
The w.-ir was prosecuted with diiigenco and vigour ; thongh
the Swedes, who were at iirst doiibtful of the politics of
Louis after the death of the Carflinal, had begun to 'hink
of concluding a scpiratc treaty vvith the Emporor. Maza-
rine was not, in Icf d, possessed of the situation, or the in-
fluence of the Cardinal ; but he had sufficient power over
the King to persuade him (to what indeed he was by nij
means indisposed) to pursue the line of politics murkeii
out by that statesman. All tiie operations of war were
concerted with the same judgment as formerly : supplies
of every kind were furnished with equal punctuality. In
Germany, Guebriant, in conjunction with the Swede^s,
triumphed over the Imperialists ; while, in Piedmont, Lor-
raine, Roussillon, and Catalonia, Schomberg, L'Hospita!,
and two other French generals, were equally successful.

Louis, in the midst of these successes, was fast ap-
proaching his latter end ; and, as the tender years of his
son would expose the kingdom to dissensions, unless a
wise and vigorous regency were appointed, this subject
occupied his wliolc altciiiion during the remainder of his
days. His queen, Anne of Austria, never partook of his
confidence; and the Duke of Oileans had discovered him-
self totally unfit for the high office, by his want of steadi-
ness and vigour of mind ; and unworthy of it by his
seditious intrigues. He therefore resolved to distribute
into different hands the power that he bequeathed, in order
to preserve the tranquillity of the kingdom during the
minority of his successor. The care of the children was
entrusted to the Queen, who had also the nominal character
of regent ; the Duke of Orleans was appointed head of the
council, and lieutenant-general of the kingdom. But these
appointments were counterbalanced by others, from which
Louis hoped that neither the Queen nor his brother would
be able to create intrigues, or to weitken llie kingdom by
the incapacity or folly of their government. In case of the
death of the Duke, the Prince of Condc was to fill his situa-
tion ; and, after him, the Cardinal Mazarine : and it was, in
fact, on the last, that Louis, by his arrangements, devolved
the rtal management of the kingdom during the minoriiy
of his son. As a farther guard against the Duke of Orleans,
the King directed that all aflV.irs which came before the
council should be dei idcd by a majority of votes. Ti.e
Queen and the Duke .swore solemnly to preserve inviolate
the deed which they had subscribed; and Louis, to render
it still more authentic, commanded it to be registered iii.
parliament. After these arrangements were complutcd,
Louis lived but a very short time, expiring in the 42d year
of his age, and on the very day that he had completed tiie
33d of his reign. This sovereign was so completely under
the inlluence of Richelieu, that his character is not marked
very decidedly by his actions : he acquired the epithet of
Just; but his title to it may well be disputed, unless the
severity and the cruelty of some of the public mcasuies of
his reign be entirely ascribed to his minister.

Louis XiV. was only 4^ years of age when his father
died. The piospects of I'raiice during his minority were
by no means of a satisfactory nature; the internal state of
the country exhibited discontent and exhaustion, created
by the measures of Cardinal Richelieu. The war which
he had commenced with the house of Austria still con-
tinued. The Emptror I-'erdiiiand III. lesb forniid..bie than
his father, sliuggied agaiiiat the forces uf Sweden and
France, even though the forces of the empire, in many

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314

FRANCE.

cases, resisted liis vvjil and l>is jiliuib. Philii) IV. oT Spain
had lost Rousillon, Catalonia, and Portugal ; but he still
continued the struggle against the Portuguese, the Dutch,
and the French. England, though involved in civil war,
Avas already beginning to exercise that energy which these
troubles had created or brought into action, and threatened
to become more formidable than ever.

The will of Louis XIII. which has been noticed, was
violated almost immediately after his death ; his widow
being invested by an arret of the parliament of Paris with
continued powers. She immediately gave herself entirely
up to the direction and inllucncc of Cardinal Mazarine,
who was of a subtle and insinuating character.

The court of Spain, imagining that the minority of Louis
afforded them an excellent opportunity of invading France,
marched an army from the Low Countries into Champagne,
besieged Rocroy, and spread alarm on every side ; but they
were mistaken, and unexpectedly were opposed by a gene-
ral who, at this period, commenced that glorious career
which has exalted him to the highest pitch of military
fame. Previous to the deatli of Louis XIII. Louis of
Bourbon, Duke of Enghien, afterwards honoured with the
title of the great Condc, had received the command of the
French forces on the frontiers of I'landers. When the
Spaniards invaded Champagne, he was scarcely twenty-
one years of age ; but his want of experience was amply
compensated by his genius. His orders were not to risk
a battle ; yet, on receiving intelligence of the siege of
Rocroy, he resolved to attack the besiegers. Hitherto the
Spanish infantry had been deemed invincible, but in this
battle, the courage of the French, directed by the talents
of their young general, deprived them of that character:
They were broken by his impetuous charge ; the Count of
Fuentes, who commanded the army, perished on the field ;
9000 were killed, 20 pieces of cannon taken, Rocroy was
saved, and the character of the Duke of Enghien stamped
as a great general. When he heard of the death of the
Spanish general, he exclaimed, " I could wish to have
died like him, had I not been victorious !" Thionville,
which had long been the object of Richelieu's ambition
and intrigues, but froin the reduction of which, by force
of arms, he had been deterred by its strength, next fell
before the Duke. After this he passed the Rhine, and ad-
vanced to avenge the death of Guibrianl, who had fallen
at the siege of Rotuil. On the death of this general, divi-
sions and dissensions took place, of which the Imperialists
took advantage, and gained the battle of Dutlingen, as well
as other inferior engagements in Swabia; Fribourg also
was reduced by them. The Imperialists, after the reduc-
tion of this place, had formed an entrenched camp under
lis walls, on hearing of the approach of the French ; but
the Duke was r.ot intimidated by their formidable position,
jior their superior numbers; he attacked them in their
camp, and, after a battle which lasted three days, he de-
feated them. Philipsburgh and Mentz were the fruits of
this victory ; while General Merci retreated in such good
order, as to prove that, at the battle of Fribourg, he had
•only yielded to a general of the first rate talents. In Flan-
ders, during the years 1645, 1645, the Duke of Orleans
Teduced Gravelines, Mardyke, and Courtray ; but the
French were not so successful in Catalonia, where Philip
IV. defeated the Marshal de la Molte, and took Lerida and
Balaguier. In Bohemia, the Swedish general Tortensten-
liad gained a great victory : to improve the advantages of
xvhich. Marshal Turenne was ordered to advance into the
lieart of Germany ; but he committed an error in separat-
ing himself from his allies, and thus exposed himself to
defeat. At first, indeed, he was successful; he crossed
the Rhine at Brisac, and, adYarcing towards the st)urces of

the Danube, routed the Imperialists. He next attempted
to relieve Fribourg, whicli was invested by the Bavarian
army, under the command of a brother of General Merci,
but he Avas defeated. As soon as Cardinal Mazarine learn-
ed this, he ordered the Duke of Enghien to join Turenne
with a reinforcement ; and the two generals attacked the
Count de Merci near Fribourg with such impetuosity, that
he was obliged to retire with the loss of 3000 men. This
battle, whicli lasted seven hours, was immediately follow-
ed by another, in which the Bavarians at first were suc-
cessful, but the Duke rallied his troops, and drove the
enemy three times from their entrenchments, which they
as often regained, till at last Merci, having lost nearly one-
lialf of his army, resolved to retreat. This he effected in
good order, notwithstanding all the attempts of the French
to harass him, leaving behind all their artillery and bag-
gage. The consequences of this victory, were the reduc-
tion of all the towns situated between the Rhine and the.
Moselle, from Mentz to Landau.

After this, Turenne established his winter quarters at
Marendahl, his troops being dispersed in the neighbour-
ing villages. As soon as General Merci learned this, he
marched rapidly against him, and gained a partial victory.
The Duke of Enghien was again sent by the Cardinal to
reinforce Turenne ; and the two generals resolved to bring
the Bavarians to a general action. With this view, Turenne,
whose day it was to command, advanced at the head of his
cavalry ; but the position of the enemy was so strong, that
it was not deemed safe to attack them. As soon, how-
ever, as the command fell to the Duke, he resolved to
march to the Danube, and had got as far as Nordlingen
when the Bavarians came up with him. He immediately
arranged his army in order of battle, on the very same
plain where the Swedes had suffered a defeat soon after
the death of Gustavus. The Bavarians were drawn up on
an eminence of easy ascent. The action was begun by the
I'rench, who at first gave way, and suffered a great loss;
nor could their utmost efforts turn the tide of battle, till
De Merci was slain at the head of his conquering troops.
Even after his death, the Duke would not have been able
to have preserved his troops from destruction, had not
Turenne attacked the right wing of the enemy, when a
terrible conflict ensued, in which the first line of the
Bavarians was broken ; but the second advancing, the
French were ready to give way when the Duke came up ;
and the Bavarians were obliged to retire, leaving behind
them their cannon. Turenne now charged them in flank,
and their route was complete. This obstinate and well-
contested battle produced few favourable consequences to
the victors ; for though Nordlingen and some other places
were reduced, they were soon recovered by the Bavarians,
on their receiving a strong reinforcement. The Duke of
Enghien returned to Paris ; and Marshal Turenne had the
honour of closing the campaign by re-establishing the Elec-
tor of Treves in his dominions.

In 1647, the Duke of Enghien succeeded to the title of
Prince of Conde, by the death of his father. At this time,
he seems to have excited the jealousy of Mazarine ; for
he was sent, with an inferior army, very ill equipped, into
Catalonia, to eflect the reduction of Lerida. The preced-
ing year this place had been besieged by Count D'Har-
court, viceroy of Catalonia ; who had suffered himself to
be surprised by the Spanish general, in a manner that in-
curred the displeasure of Mazarine, and induced him to
resign his comftiand. The Prince of Conde, on his arrival,
found the lines of the Count D'Harcourt so little damaged,
that he easily repaired them, and the trenches were open-
ed with a flourish of violins. The city was defended by
the govcTnor with very great skill and courage : he haras-

FRANCE.

il5

scd the besiegers wiUi continual satires, and disputed every
inch of ground. In the mean time, the French found un-
expected difliculties in forming their mines, by the inter-
vention of a rock : the troops were diminished by fatigue ;
the season was unfavourable for hibour, and prejudicial to
health, on account of its extreme heat ; the Spanisli army
advanced to the relief of the place, and the Prince of Condi:
was obliged to raise the siege.

Hitherto the negociations at Munster and Osnaburgh
had varied according to the fortune of war ; but the French
and Swedes being now decidedly victorious, the Eiuperor,
deserted by his allies, was obliged to receive the law from
these powers ; and consented to purchase peace, by ceding
to France the bishoprics of Metz, Toul, and Verdun, and
giving up his pretensions to Pigneral, Brisac, and Alsace.
This was the memorable peace of Westphalia, signed at
Munster, on the 24th day of October 1643, which, till the
Frencli Revolution, was considered as a fundamental law
of the empire, and the basis of all subsequent treaties.

France, however, was still at war with the Spanish
branch of the House of Austria ; and as the United Pro-
vinces, jealous of the former power, had concluded a se-
parate treaty with Philip in 1647, the Cardinal found it
necessary to exert all his talents at this crisis, especially as
his influence was now seriously threatened by intestine dis-
orders.

In 1648, the Prince of Condc resumed the command in
Flanders, where he reduced Ypres. He was opposed by
the Archduke Leopold, who, to balance this acquisition,
took Courtray and Furnes, and advanced to the siege of
Lens. This place the prince resolved to relieve if possi-
ble, but he had the mortification of beholding it surrender.
Still he was determined to engage the enemy : immediate-
ly before the battle, he addressed his soldiers in few but em-
phatic words : " Remember, my friends, Rocroy, Fribourg,
and Nordlingen." The Spaniards, though superior, were
defeated : 5000 were killed ; 3000 made prisoners ; and
the Archduke himself escaped with difficulty.

The civil war in France now calls for our attention. The
overthrow of Mazarine was the object of it : he was objec-
tionable to the French on many accounts ; in tiie first place
he was a foreigner, and an Italian ; in the next place,
though he had not the pomp and haughtiness of Richelieu,
his fortune, his power, and the necessities of the nation, fur-
nished matter of complaint and discontent. Tlie finances,
■which had been placed on such an excellent footing by the
Duke of Sully, who had, moreover, rendered their collec-
tion and management so very simple and easy, tliat mode-
rate talents and attention, joined to economy, mi^ht liave
kept them so, were in a very dilapidated stale. Seventy-
five millions,the amount of the revenue, were not sufficient
for the expenditure ; and yet the armies were not nume-
rous ; the superintendance of the finances had been given
to an obscure and rapacious Italian, who had recourse to
iTioney edicts. The money due to the magistrates was not
paid-; some quarters of the annuities were retrenched;
murmurs broke out; the parliament opposed the court;
and a civil war was on the point of being kindled. An ar-
ret of union between the courts of Paris gave the minister
uneasiness, and was annulled by the council. The magis-
trates maintained that their union could not be regarded as
unlawful, or reprehensible ; upon which Mazarine replied,
" The king must be obeyed ; if he forbid wearing tassels
to band strings, it is less the nature of the thing prohibited,
than the prohibition, which constitutes the crime." The
parliament abolished the situation of intendants of the pro-
vinces who were instituted by Louis XIII.; on which the
court, filled with indignation, resolved to have recourse to
a very bold measure. During the celebration of Te Deum

for the vic'.ory of Lois, a president and counsellor who had
distinguished tliemselves in the debates, were arrested by
order of the Cardinal ; upon which the people rose, threw
chains across tiie streets, formed barricades, fired on the
chancellor's coacii, killed some soldiers, and the tv/o prison-
ers were liberated.

The coadjutor, archbishop of Paris, afterwards the cele-
brated Cardinal de Rctz, foijientcd and took advantage of
these disturbances : he was a man of a restless, intriguing,
and seditious character ; excessively profligate in his priii-
ciplesand manners, but possessed of very superior talents.
He was jealous of Mazarine, at the same time that he de-
spised his abilities. Thinking himself better qualified to
fill the place ofpi-ime minister, he employed all his talents
and his powers of intrigue to inspire the nobles v/ith the
same jealousy of Mazarine, which filled his own breast;
at the same tiine, he inflamed the people and roused them
to sedition, by representing the ignominy of submitting to
the oppressive administration of a stranger. The Parlia-
ment of Paris warmly seconded his pretended views of i-e-
formation ; and a civil war was inevitable.

The talents of IMazarine were by no means equal to the
approaching danger ; and Anne of Austria, entirely under
his guidance, was nearly as unpopular as himself. Slie
could not appear publicly in the streets without being in-
sulted ; she was continually reproached with sacrificing
the good of the nation to her attachment to a foreigner ; and
ballads and madrigals were sung in the street, on tiie sub-
ject of her amours. The women took an active and zeal-
ous part at this crisis ; and many of the most celebrated
generals declared for or against tlie court, as they were or-
dered by tlicir respective mistresses. In consequence of
this state of things, and of their apprehension of greater
danger, the queen regent, along with her children and Ma-
zarine, left Paris, and retired to St Gerinains. Here, aft-
cording to Voltaire, their cfistress was so great, that they
were obliged to pawn the crown jewels in order to raise
money: the king himself was often in want of common
necessaries ; and the pages of the chamber were dismiss-
ed, because they had not the means of maintaining them.
The parliament now proceeded to extremities ; they de-
clared the Cardinal a disturber of the public peace, and an
enemy to France : this was the signal of revolt : a separa-
tion of parties took place. The Frondeurs, as the rebels
were called, were headed by the Prince of Conti, brother of
the great Conde, and the Dukes of Beaufort, Bouillon, and
Lungueville. The Prince of Conde, though dissatisfied with
the court, engaged in the royal cause, and joined the
Queen at St Germains. But the rebels wasted their time
in disputes, or vain parade, and neglected to take measures
even for the defence of the capital; they were soon there-
fore thrown into alarm, when tiie Prince of Conde, at the
head of 6000 troops, advanced against it. The JVIarshal
Turenne, who had been allured by the Duchess de
Longuevillc, sister of Conde, in vain attempted to defend
Paris with an undisciplined rabble. A conference was
agreed to; and a treaty concluded at Rouel, by which a
general amnesty was granted, and the appearance of peace
restored, without, however, any sincerity of reconciliation
or extinction of hatred on either side.

The court returned to Paris, and the Cardinal was re-
ceived with joy by that very people, who, such a very short
time before, had threatened his life. It is this levity of the
French nation,— the absurd and contemptible mixture of
a frivolous gallantry with the intrigues of state, and even
Willi civil commotions, — and the influence exercised by the
Duches of Longuevillc, and other women of a libertine
character, in making the most eminent leaders several
times change skies, tljat rnark out these civil wars, oiher=

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FRANCE.

wise contemptible, as objects of intcrsst and study to those
■who wish to ijain a iiiiniue, ijiotoiiiid, and iiitiiiialc acquain-
tance with the character ol the 1- rcnch nation.

In 1650, llie Prince of Conde reiieatedly insulted the
Queen and tlic Cardinal, \vhile, by lii^ hau^hliness, he dis-
gusted the coadjutor who now supporiCLl Mazjrinc, and by
whose advice the jjrince, togctncr witli Ins bi oilier the
Prince of Conti, and ihc Duke of Lonjjjucvillc, were arrest-
ed at the council table. 'I'he citizens of Paris, on this oc-
casion, celebrated with public rejoicings the iniprisontnent
of these men, whom they had lately hailed as their deliv-
erers. Mazarine, however, had not gained prudence, and
his triumph, of course, was of short duration. Conceiving
himself secure, he affronted the Duke of Orleans, who im-
mediately deserted the court, and became the head of the
Fronde. On tliis, the parliament again took courage, and
demanded the liberation of the Princes of Conde and Conti,
and the Uuke of Longueville ; and passed sentence of per-
petual banishment against the Cardinal, who went in per-
son to liberate the princes, in the hope of gaining their fa-
vour; but they treated him with contempt. He was tlien
obliged to flee to Leige, and afterwards to Cologne. Tlie
coadjutor this time remained faithful to the court; and by
his intrigues, the Dtike of Botiillon and Marshal Turenne
were detached from the Fronde. In 1651, Mazarine again
entered the kingdom ^ith 6000 men, upon which Conde
took up arms, and the parliament declared him guilty of
high treason, though he was only going to oppose the Car-
dinal, against whom they had so very lately passed a sen-
tence of perpetual banishment. Conde, in this extremity,
quitted Paris, to arm in his support the provinces of Guien-
iie, Poitou, and Anjou, and to ally himself with the Span-
iards. During these convulsions, Louis XIV. being now of
age, ordered the parliament to remove to Pontage, and a
few of the members obeyed ; but the greater part remain-
ed. Thus there were two parliainenls ; their resolutions,
however, hi.d now fallen iuto buch coiitempt, that the livai
factions disdained their nicUiaiion or supix.rt, and prepared
to teiiiiin^te their differences by the sword. Coride, in
league with the Spani.irds, apjieared in the field against the
king, ar.d the Maislial Turenne supported the court.

The opposing armies approached each otlier on the banks
of the Loire, when the Prir.ce of Coni'e attacked the ranks
of the royal army with so mucli impetuosity, that they were
broken. The court took the aiaim ; ;:nd the mii.ister pro-
posed to save the king by flight. This plan, however, was
strongly opposed by Turenne, who taking advantage of
every inequality of ground, restored the confidence and the
hopes of his party. The Prince of Cond6, in the mean
time, entered Paris, where he was at first received with joy;
but the Cardinal of Retz, having descited the popular
cause, and succeeded in gaining an abbolute sway over the
Duke of Orleans, persuaded that Prince to become a can-
didate with the citizens for their favour, in opposition to
Conde. In this he succeeded, and the Duke of Lorraine
deserting the cause of the Prince at the same time, while
his troops were enervated by the pleasures of the capital,
Conde was not sorry to learn that tiie approach of Turenne
presented to him the means more corigenial to his talents
and habits, of establishing his cause by the force of arms,
in the subu'.bsof St Antoine, the t«o greatest generals of
France were opposed to each other: the King from an
eminence beheld the battle. The Duke of Orleans rcmain-
pd in his palace, undecided whait part to take : Cardinal de
Retz was likewise neuter, and the parliament waited the is-
iue, before it published any decree. The citizens of Paris,
kfraid of both parties, or afiecting to preserve a strict neu-
trality, shut the city gates, and would permit no ingress or
cerct.!.. The combat was lor.a' aDd bloodv : tlie two generals

performed wonders at the head of a few men ; many gal-
lant nobleman were killed or wounded ; at lust the battle
was decided in favour of the Piiiice of Conde, by liie
daughter of the Duke of Orleans ordciing tlie gates to be
opened for the wounded, and the cannon of the Uastilc to
be fired on the king's troops. Turenne was in conseciucnce
compelled to retreat. '• These cannon have killed her
husband," observed Mazarine, when infonricd of the cir-
cumstance, alluding to the hopes which the dauu:hter of
the Duke of Orleans entertained of being Queen of France.
The Duke was now declared by tlie Parliament lieu-
tenant-general of the kingdom, and the Prince of Conde
commander in chief of the armies of Fiance. But the po-
pularity of the latter was of short duration: a tumult, in
which several citizens were killed, and of which he was
supposed to be the author, together with his violent and
haughty demeanour, disgusted and irritated the inhabitants
of Paris, and he was obliged to leave that city. On the other
hand, Louis, in order to appease his subjects, dismissed
Mazarine, who retired to Sedan. The people, satisfied at
this mark of their sovereign's attention to their wishes, oi
their own accord sent deputies to invite him to return to
the city, which he entered amidst l!ie acclamations of per-
sons of all ranks. The first acts of the royal authority
were the banishment of the Duke of Orleans, and the ar-
rest and imprisonment of Cardinal de Retz. The Prince
of Conde, condemned to lose 1. is head, abandoned in France
by almost all his partizans, feebly supported by the
Spaniards, and pressed by Turenne, carried on an uiisuc-
cessful war on the frontiers of Champagne.

To the storms of this civil war succeeded a calm. The
Parliament was humbled ; and Mazarine being re-called,
again resumed all his authority, and was courted by every
body. Even the Parliament, that had before set a price
upon his head as a public robber, r;ow seiil deputies to
compliment him. The Prince of Conde after this absurd
war was finished, observed, that it deserved only to be
written in bhnk verse; and Voltaire reuiarks, that the
name of Petiis maitres originally applied to that piince's
party, because they endeavoured to make themselves mas-
ters of the state, and now signifying overbeaiing and frivo-
lous young men; aiid the name oi Frondeurs, bestowed on
the censure: s of government, are the only vestiges rensain-
ing of these troubles.

Some parts of the kingdom were still in the power of
the insurgents. Bellegarde, a town in Burgundy, was de-
fended for the Prince of Conc'.e, by the Count de Bouteville,
afterwards known as Marshal Luxemburgh. It was at-
tacked by the Duke of Epcrnon at the head of a royal
army, but not surrendered till a practicable breach was
made, and honourable conditions granted. In 1654, the
Prince of Conde, in conjunction with the Archduke, laid
siege to Arras. At the same time, Stenai was besieged
by Turenne. As soon as the latter place had surrendered,
the Marshal, and De la P'erte, encamped in the neighbour-
hood of the Spaniards, and used every stratagem to induce,
or oblige them to abandon the siege of Arras, but without
efi'ect. Shortly afterwards, Turenne having been reinforc-
ed, resolved, contrary to the opinion of his principal offi-
cers, to force the Spanish lines. The Spaniards were dr-iven
out with great slaughter, and lost their baggage, artillery,
and ammunition ; but the prince of Conde, with two regi-
ments alone, after defeating a division of his opponents,
covered the flight of the Spaniards, and thus saved the re-
mains of their army. The King of Spain aknowledged
and characterized his services in a short and expressive
letter, " I am informed that all was lost, and that you sav-
ed all."

In 1655, Landreci and Quesnoy were reduced by Tu-

lUANCE.

317

i-f»rinc, and tlius a road was opened into the Spanish Ne-
therlands. In the siibsef|Ment yeai- he invested V'alen-
ticniies with an army of 20,000 men. The iii>es were
complftfd, and the operations far advanced, when the
Prince of Conc!e,and Don John of Austria, advanced with
a superior army, and jn tiie night-time forced that part of
the lines where the Marquis de la Feite commanded. Tu-
lenne, after in vain endeavouring to restoie tlie fortune of
the hattle, effected a masterly retieat, carrying oil" liis ar-
tillery and baggage, and even halting on the approach of
the enemy. In less than a month afterwards he took Ca-
pell, in sight of the Prince of Condc and Don John.

A short time before these events, Mazarine, more anxi-
ous about the overthrow of his enemies, arid the restora-
tion of tranquillity to France, than about llic preservation
of that country's honour, had formed a treaty with Crom-
well, by which the Protector agreed to sen(l the Cardinal
a strong reinforcement, on condition that Charles II. and
his brother the Duke of York, the grandsons of Henry IV.
who had sought and obtained an asylum in France, should
be ordered to quit it, and that the Cardinal should deliver
up to England, Mardyke, Gravelines, or Dunkirk, which-
ever should be first wrested from the Spaniards. Tu-
renne, after having in vain endeavoured to make himself
master of Cambray, into which, after he had encompassed
it, the Prince of Conde penetrated at the head of 2000
horse, marched towards St. Quintin, to meet the English
auxiliaries. With these he reduced Montmede and St.
Vincent, raised the siege of Ardre, and concluded the
campaign by taking Mardyke, which, according to the
treaty, was given up to the English.

In 1658, in compliance with the urgent request of Crom-
well, Turenne was ordered by Mazarine to besiege Dun-
kirk, while the port was blocked up by an English squadron.
The Prince of Conee, and Don John, came to its release.
Tuvenne quitted his lines to encounter the enemy ; and
the Prince of Conde, whose advice was not followed^ anti-
cipated the disasti'ous consequences, observing to the Duke
of Gloucester, who was with him, that if lie had never
seen a battle lost, he would see one now. The English
and the French cha]ged with rival valour; the Spaniards
were totally defeated, with the loss of 9000 of their best
soldiers, and pursued even to the gates of Furnes ; but the
troops under the immediate command of Conde, effected
their retreat in tolerable order. Ten days afterwards Dun-
kirk surrendered, and Louis entered in tiiumph ; but he
was soon obliged to deliver it up toLockhart, Ciomweli's
embassador. Furnes, Dixmude, Oudenarde, Menin, Gra-
velines, and Ypres, also were reduced. The success of
'I'urenne alarmed the court of Spain, and induced it to tliink
of peace ; nor was Mazarine averse to it, one of tlie great
objects of his policy being to obtain for the House of
Bourbon the eventual succession of the Spanish monarchy.
With this view, he had formerly proposed peace to Philip
IV. on condition that a marriage should take place between
the Infanta and Louis XIV. ; but as the King of Spain had
at that tinie only one son, an unhealthy infant, the proposal
was rejected, lest the Infanta, if she succeeded to the throne
of Spain, should carry her right to an enemy. Now, how-
ever, as Philip had another son, he agreed to the proposal
of Mazarine. A cessation of arms was immediately resolved
upon ; and, in order that the preliminaries of a treaty might
be settled in the most satisfactory manner to each party,
Mazarine, and Don Louis de Havo, met on the frontiers of
both kingdoms, in the Isle of Pheasants, in the Pyrenees,
A. D. 1659. Much time was consumed in disputes about
precedency ; but at length the conferences were begun,
and, after four months, were concluded by the celebrated
treaty of the Pyrenees. According to this treaty, Louis

I'eceived with the Infanta a dowry of 500,000 crowns of
gold; Alsjce and Kousillon were confirmed to hiin ; and
lie restored t'.ie duchy of Lorraine to Charles IV. ; and
St. Omers, Y[)ies, Menin, and Oudenarde to tlie Spaniards ;
he also consented to pardon the Prince of Conde, and so-
lemnly renounced all claim to any territoryth.it might fall
to him in right of his C|ueen. 'i"he King of Spain, on his
jiart, pardon:;d the rebellious Catalans ; gave up Verceil to
tiie Duke of Savoy ; Reggio to the Duke of Modena ; and
the Duke of Newburgh, tlic long disputed succession to
the city of Juliers, which had been sequestered by the
house of Austria.

Oa the 9 th of March, 1661, a little more than a year af-
ter the treaty of the Pyrenees, Cardinal Mazarine died;
and his concern for his wealth was marked, even in the last
moments of his life. By a deed of gift he resigned his
riches to the king, who immediately restored the instru-
ment. His immense wealth was soon dissipated by the pro-
digality of the Marquis of Meilliai, who had niariied his
favourite daughter, or niece, Hortensia Mancini, and as-
sumed the title of Duke of Mazarine. On the ruin of
her husband, Hortensia retired to England, and subsisted
on a pension allowed her by Charles the Second.

" Historians have seldom done justice to the character
of Mazarine, whose political caution restrained the vigour
of his spirits, and the lustre of whose genius was concealed
beneath his profound dissimulation. If his schemes were
less comprehensive, or his enterprises less bold than those
of Richelieu, they were less extravagant. He has been ac-
cused of avarice, and seemingly with justice; yet if we
reflect, that, being an indigent foreigner himself, he mar-
ried seven nieces to French noblemen^of the first distinction,
and left his nephew Duke of Nevcrs, we shall, perhaps,
be inclined partly to forgive him. So many matches could
not be formed witliout money ; and the pritle ol raisina: one's
family is no contemptible passion. He had the singular
honour of extending the limits of the French monarchy,
while France was distracted by intestine hostilities ; and of
twice restoring peace to the greater part of Europe, after
the longest and most bloody wars it had ever known. Nor
must we forget his attention to the Spanish succession,
which afterwards made the house of Bouibon su formida-
ble to its neighbours, and is a striking proof of his political
foresight. His leading maxim was, tiiat force ought never
tube employed but in default of other means; and his per-
fect knowledge of mankind, the most essential of all men-
tal acquisitions for a minister, enabled him often to accom-
plish his views without it. When absolutely necessary,
v.e have seen him employ it with efl'cct."

On the death of Mazaiine, the ofl'icers of state inquired
of Louis, to whom they were to apply : They were sur-
prised and disappointed, when the monarch answered, " to
me." He was at this time 22 years of age ; he had been
ill educated, and was conse(|uently ignorant ; addicted to
pleasure, and had been carefully kept at a distance from
all knowledge of business by the cardinal ; but he had
measured his own powers of mind ; and he already felt the
first aspirations after that glory, which was the ruling pas-
sion of his life. He had also many circumstances in his
favour, and which could not fail of impressing the minds
of his subjects with loyalty, respect, admiration, and even
esteem. He was remarkably handsome in his person, at
the same time that there was about him a wonderful degree
of majesty and dignity ; these, which of themselves might
have only inspired awe, were softened and tempered by af-
fability and politeness; so that, if he was not the greatest
king, he was at least, as Bolingbroke expresses it, " the
best actor of majesty that ever filled a throne." His dig-
nity of mind, and loftiness of ambition, even induced him

313

FRANCE.

to render his pleasures inoi>e decent than they wopld have
been, had he been destitute of these qualities; and his
court, following the example of the sovereign, was soon
(listinf!;uishcd by its elegant gallantry. The French have
always been characterised by their fondness for show, and
their vanity: these he gratiiicd in an uncoinnion degree,
by the magnificence of his paldces, and the splendour of
his public entertainments. Even his own want of litera-
ture was concealed, or forgotten, in the patronage he ex-
tended to literary men, not only in his own kingdom, but also
over the rest of Europe. These qualities rendered Louis
extremely popular with the great majority of his suljjects ;
while, with the more discerning, his reign was hailed Avilh
pleasure, as soon as the measures of Colbert began to ope-
rate towards the advantage of France, and Louis, by the
confidence he placed in this minister, discovered tliat his
objects extended beyond mere pleasure or glory. Though
the king in other respects had no reason to be grateful to
Mazarine, who had frequently misled hiin, and had neglect-
ed his education, and the formation of habits necessary for
liis high and arduous situation ; yet he had received one
favour from him of great moment, when he inspired him
>vith confidence for Colbert, one of the greatest statesmen
that France has produced. Fouquet, superintendant of
finances, who dissipated the public money, was disgraced
and imprisoned, after a sumptuous entertainment which he
gave the king at his pleasure house, that is said to have
cost him 18 millions of the then current money. His suc-
cessor Colbert, had only the title of comptroller general.
He soon put the finances into excellent order ; raised
enormous sums for the public service ; and created a navy,
and supported a large standing army, without oppressing
the people.

Two occasions soon presented themselves, on which
Louis had an opportunity of displaying his vanity, haughti-
ness, and ambition. A dispute respecting precedence, that
happened between his ambassador and that of Spain, in
London, furnished the first occasion: The latter at a public
entry insulted the former, because he would not yield the
precedence ; upon which Louis threatened to commence
hostilities, unless the superiority of his crown was acknow-
ledged. Philip yielded, and dispatched Count Fuentes to
Paris, with the important concession, that the ministers of
§pain sliould no longer dispute the precedency with those
of France. His treatment of the Pope was still more ar-
rogant. The Duke of Acqui, ambassador of Louis XIV.
behaved in such a haughty manner, as to be quite intolera-
ble ; and his domestics followed the example of their mas-
ter. Some of them having attacked the Corsican guard of
the Pope, one of the pages of the ambassadress was killed.
On this the Duke left Rome. The French troops were
put in motion towards Italy, and the Pope was obliged to
send his nephew into France, to ask pardon, and to allow a
jjillar to be erepted in Rome itself, as a monument of his
own humiliation, and of the triumph of the French monarch.
Even England experienced the lofty spirit of Louis : he
absolutely refused to pay the honours of the flag ; and
when Charles remonstrated, he made such vigorous pre-
parations to support his refusal, that the English monarch
deemed it prudent to desist. " The King of England,"
said he to his ambassador D'Estrades, " may know the
amount of my force ; but he cannot measure the elevation
of my mind. IJvery thing to me is contemptible in com-
parison with glory."

Soon after his accession, he purchased Dunkirk from
the needy King of England. He immediately employed
30,000 men to fortify it by land and sea ; and dug a large
bason between the town and the citadel, capable of contain-
ing several men of war. He soon afterwards obtained, by

menaces, the Strong hold of Marsal from the Duke of Lor-
raine ; secretly supported Portugal against Spain ; and
openly gave his assistance to the Dutch against Hie King
of England ; though the latter offered to abandon to liim
all the Spanish Netherlands, provided he would not prevent
him from pursuing his advantages over the United Piovin-
ces. In 16Cr, the peace of Breda took place; but Louis
was preparing for war. In six years he had accumulated
a large sum of money, created a navy, augmented his ar-
mies, and piovided large magazines, and an immense quan-
tity of military stores. While Colbert regulated the finan-
cial department of the kingdom, his other favourite minis-
ter, Louvois, directed his genius most successfully to the
means of suppoiting large armies at a distance by maga-
zines. To lead these armies to victory, the Prince of Conde
and Marshal Turenne were still in the vigour of life.

Louis, however, during this ititerval of peace, did not
confine his attention and his labours solely to the means of
carrying on future wars with advantage and success. He
embellished the capital, and paved and lighted it in a mag-
nificent manner ; and, for the secuiity of the citizens, esta-
blished a police, which, from its vigilance and systematic
proceedings, soon became the astonishment of Europe. In
the piovinces, highways and useful works were construct-
ed. In 1664, the canal of Languedoc was begim. In 1666,
a council for the reformation of the laws was established.
In 166", the civil ordinance was published ; and soon after-
wards the code of the waters, forests, the criminal ordi-
nance, Sec. followed. Duels, severely prohibited, became
less frequent every day.

We have seen that, by the treaty of the Pyrenees, France
solenmly renounced all title to the succession of any part
of the Spanish dominions, which might arise in consequence
of the marriage of Louis with the Infanta of Spain ; but
on the death of his father-in-law, Philip IV. the French
monarch pretending that no contract could do away a right
derived from nature, retracted his renunciation, and laid
claim to a part of the Spanish territories. As Philip had
left a son, Louis could not advance a claim to Spain itself;
but he discovered that there was in Brabant an obsolete
law or custom, by which a female of a first marriage was
preferred to a male heir of a second marriage ; and on this
feeble and questionable ground, he claimed the Spanish
Netherlands from the son of Philip by a second marriage.
Voltaire mentions, that he formed a secret treaty with the
emperor, who consented that he should sioze on the Spa-
nish Netherlands, on condition that Louis would agree that
the Spanish monarchy should revert to liim on the death of
Charles II. Circumstances were favourable to Louis's
claims on Brabant. Besides his own vast preparations, Ma-
ry Anne of Austria, regent of Spain, was a very weak and
superstitious woman, entirely governed by her confessor, a
German Jesuit, whom she appointed grand inquisitor, and
placed at the head of her councils. Under such persons,
it was not surprising that the internal management and the
external defence of the kingdom were neglected. Louis
seized on the opportunity thus presented to him, and with
an army of 40,000 men, directed by Turenne, paid by Col-
bert, and amply supplied by Louvois, in 1 668 he invaded the
Netherlands. The towns, nearly destitute of magazines
or garrisons, and their fortifications in a dilapidated con-
dition, surrendered as soon as summoned. Lisle alone re-
sisted for nine days ; and the king returned to Paris, after
having left garrisons in all the towns, and directed the cele-
brated Vauban to fortify them.

The jealousy of the Prince of Conde was roused by the
success of Turenne ; and, finding that Louvois regarded
that general with the same feeling, he proposed, even in
the midst of winter, the invasion of Tranche Compte, n

FRANCE.

319

province dependant on Flanders, or rather a kind of repub-
lic under the Spanish dominions, and which was attached
to its sovereigns, because they did not interfere with tlieir
particular privileges, and ruled them with mildness. IJut
Conde did not trust entirely to the force of his arms; se-
cret measures were employed ; traitors were found. 15e-
sancon and Salins, the two strongest towns, were reduced
in a very short time. In four days Dole surrendered; in
three weeks of thp month of February, the whole province
was conquered.

The rapid success of Louis in the Spanish Netherlands
and Franche Compte, alarmed the other powers of Europe,
and a triple league was formed by Holland, England, and
Sweden, for the purpose of repressing his ajnbition. Louis,
apprehensive of a more powerful combination, offered to
give up his queen's rights to Urabant and likewise Fran-
che Compte, provided lie might keep the conquests he had
made last campaign ; and the peace of Aix la Chapelle
was formed.

At the congress for concluding this peace, the deputies
from Holland had insulted Louis in a manner that monarch
was not likely to forget or forgive. " Do you not rely on
the king's word ?" said, one day, the French minister to
Van" Bennery, the Dutch ambassador — " I do not know
what the king will do," replied he, " but I know what he
can do." This affront was aggravated by another circum-
stance : the States ordered a medal to be struck, on which
a pompous inscription informed the reader, that the repub-
lic had conciliated kings, and restored tranquillity to Europe.

To motives of ambition, which alone were sufficient to
stimulate Louis to war, were now added, in the case of
Holland, the feelings of wounded pride. Under the joint
influence of these, he prepared to humble the Dutch. He
began by detaching Charles H. of England from his alli-
ance with that republic, and bribing him to join France
against it. Charles XL of Sweden joined the league ; and
even the Bishop of Munster, greedy of war and plunder,
and long an enemy to the Dutch, readily concurred in the
measures concerted for their destruction.

At this period of danger, Holland was divided and wea-
kened by two factions ; the one headed by John de Witt, a
stern republican, of great talents and integrity ; the other
by the Prince of Orange's partizans, who wished to invest
him with the powers and the dignities of his ancestors.
De Witt, however, had the command of the resources of
the republic at the time when Louis prepared to invade it ;
and he was blamed for neglecli'ig the land forces, and di-
recting his whole care to the marine. Even after he knew that
the French monarch projected an invasion by land, he seems
to have been deceived with respect to the side on which it
would be made ; for he had taken his precautionary and
defensive measures almost exclusively on the side of Mae-
stricht. Louis, however, having made an alliance with
Cologne, chose that quarter for commencing his hostile
operations against Holland. But it was first necessary to
enter the territories of the Duke of Lorraine, on which,
as he had no hopes of gaining the consent of the Duke, he
resolved to seize; endeavouring to justify his conduct on
the unsupported and frivolous ground, that intrigues dan-
gerous to the French monarchy had been carrying on at
the court of Lorraine. Before he entered the territories
of the Dutch, he issued a declaration of war against them.
In this he did not condescend to specify particulars, but
contented himself with the general and haiighty assertion,
that the insolence of the Dutch liad been so great, that it
did not consist with his glory any longer to bear it.

Holland was now threatened witii a greater force than
had ever been directed agairjst her. The combined facets
of England and France; amounting to upwards of ICO sail,

was ready to ravage her coasts; and a French army of
120,000 excellent troops, assisted and dircricd by the ta-
lents of Turenne, Condc, Luxemburg, und \'a\djan, was
preparing to enter the frontiers. Louis passed the Meusc
at Visat; and in a very few days, having made himself
master of the intervening towns, approached the Rhine.
The season was extremely favourable to him ; the great-
est rivers were almost dried up by the excessive drought;
the French cavalry, animated by the presence of their so-
vereign, plunged into the stream, and were feebly opposed
by the Dutch; so that the passage of the Rhino was ac-
complished with no danger or dilTiculty. In little more
than a month, the provinces of Guelderland, Overyssel, and
Utrecht, were in possession of Louis; and the only difli-
culties remaining were in the provinces of Holland and
Zealand. The king here committed an error : instead of
pressing forward with his whole force, as he was advised
to do by Conde and Turenne, he was prevailed upon by
Louvois to add new fortifications to his conquests, which,
requiring additional garrisons, necessarily weakened hi^i.
main army.

In the mean time, the Dutch were successful at sea, De
Ruyter having defeated the combined fleets of England and
France in Solebay.

The Prince of Orange, unable to withstand the victorious
and greatly superior armies of Louis, retired with his dis-
pirited troops into the province of Holland. Naarden,
within nine miles of Amsterdam, was reduced by the Mar-
quis of Rochefort ; and had he taken possession of Mey-
den, the keys of which were delivered to some of his troops,
but recovered by the magistrates, Amsterdam must have
fallen. Louis himself, instead of pushing forward, remain-
ed at Utrecht, wasting his time in vain parade. At this
period, John de Witt proposed that the States should sue
for peace; and carried his proposition, notwithstanding the
Prince of Orange was decidedly averse to it. But the de-
puties were received by Louvois v.-ith excessive haughti-
ness ; and the intolerable conditions were insisted on, that
the States should give up all their possessions beyond the
Rhine, and some strong places in the very heart of the re-
public ; that they should restore the Roman Catholic reli-
gion, and every year send an ambassador to Paris, acknow-
ledging that they held their liberty of France. The depu-
ties instantly rejected these most absurd and humiliating
conditions ; and, on their return to Amsterdam, John de
Witt and his brother were sacrificed by the populace as
the authors of their calamities. The Prince of Orange
was now chosen Stadtholder, and the most implicit confi-
dence and obedience wers shewn him by all parties. As
soon as Louis and his ally Charles perceived the effects
which the appointment of the Prince of Orange had pro-
duced on the determination of the Dutch, they endeavour-
ed to corrupt him by offering him th.e sovereignty of Hol-
land ; but he rejected all their proposals, and prepared for
war. The country was inundated ; preparations were
made to embark for their East India cojonies, if their coun-
try could not be saved. Providence itself seemed to inter-
fere, by preventing the hostile fleet, with an army on board,
from approaching the shores; and Louis, having gained
sufficient glory, and fi]iding that his progress was delayed,
had returned to JNIarseilles.

In 1675, a confederacy, consisting of the Emperor and
Spain, which had been alarmed at the conquests and ambi-
tion of the French monarch, and had already secretly assis-
ted the United Provinces, openly declared themselves their
allies. In three obstinate but indecisive actions, with the
fleets of France and England, De Ruyter maintained hi.s
character, and protected his country by sea. As soon as
the summer commenced, Louis resumed the command of

FRANCE.

his armies, and in 13 (hys took Macstricht, one of the
strongest bulwarks of the United Provinces. The Prince
of Orange, in the mean time, bavin;; assembled a respecta-
ble army, laid siege to Naarden ; snd, by its reduction, in-
spired his countrymen wiib confidence in his talents, and
with hopes of tlie success of their cause. As soon as Naar-
den was reduced, he marched to join the Imperialists, who,
under Montecuculli, on the banks of the Rhine, was oppo-
sed to Turennc. The Imperialists having in vain attemp-
ted the passarjc of that river, in the face of the Marslial,
eluded his vii'ilance, however, and sat down suddenly be-
fore Bonne ; here they were joined by the Prince of Orange,
wlio bad displayed equal talents, in leaving behind him the
other French generals. Bonne soon surrendered ; and by
the fall of several other places in the Electorate of Cologne,
the communication between France and the United Pro-
vinces was cut off, and Louis was obliged to recal his for-
ces, and abandon his conquests.

In 1674, the Parliament of England obliged Charles to
make peace witli Holland; and soon afterwards this Mo-
narch offered his mediation to the contending powers.
The King of France readily acceded to the offer; but the
Prince of Orange, who had great inlUience in the councils
of the United States, and had just obtained the perpetual
grant of the office of Sladtliolder for his family, and who,
besides, was ambitious of military fame, refused the medi-
ation, alleging that it would be in vain to negociate, till a
greater impression had been made upon France. Louis,
therefore, resolved to open the campaign with such accu-
mulated means, as should render this expectation of the
Stadtholder altogether fruitless. He brought three great
armies into the field ; one on the side of Germany, one in
Flanders, and one on the frontiers of Rousillon, while he
himself, at the head of a fourth, entered Franche Compte,
and subdued the whole province in the space of six weeks.
The attacks on Besan^on were directed by Vauban, who
was so great a master of these operations, and besides
found every thing necessary so well supplied by Louvois,
that it was reduced in nine days. In Flanders, the Prince
of Conde, who commanded the French army, was opposed
by the Prince of Orange; the former, though his forces
were inferior in nuinber, prevented the latter from pene-
trating into France ; and at last attacked the rear of his ar-
my, in a narrow defile at SenefTe ; threw them into confu-
sion, and captured a great part of their cannon and baggage.
On this occasion, the Prince of Orange, sensible that he
had been out-generalled, atoned for bis mistake by his per-
sonal exertions and courage; he rallied his troops — led
them back to the charge; in his turn made the French re-
tire ; and obliged Conde to exert desperate efforts to ob-
tain the victory, which he at length atchieved. Such were
the deeds of the Prince of Orange in this battle, that his
adversary, always candid and magnanimous, remarked,
" The Prince of Orange has acted in every thing like an
old captain, except exposing his life too like a young sol-
dier." At length the night parted the combatants, and,
notwithstanding the advantage which the French obtained
at the commencement of the engagement, the victory re-
mained undecided. The Prince of Orange, however, in
order to give himself the appearance of liaving been the
conqueror, or to bring the French to a new engagement,
besieged Oudenarde; but the Imperial general, who was
with him, not choosing to hazard a battle, the siege was
raised. Before the close of the campaign, however, he re-
duced Grave, the last town that the French held in any of
the United Piovinces.

In Alsace, Turenne commanded, and displayed much
military skill against a superior army. By a rapid and
well-concerted march, he attacked and defeated the Duke

of Lorraine, an.l Caprara, the Impeiial pjencral, at Sintzi-
um; and afterwards entered the Palatinate. During his
absence in Lorraine, the Imperialists again returned, and
with an army of 70,00) men, entered and overran Alsace.
This obliged him to come back for the defence of this pro-
vince ; and so unexpected was his arrival, that the Impe-
rialists, taken unawares, were completely defeated, and be-
ing dislodged, were obliged to repass the Rhine. The
Palatinate was now given up lo the most wanton and bar-
liarous destruction. From his castle at Manheim, the
Elector beheld two cities and 2,5 towns in flames. Rapine
and lust vied with each other in the dreadful destruction
that they committed. The Elector, mad with rage and
grief, challenged Tiirenne to single combat ; but the Mar-
shal coolly replied, that he could not accept such a chal-
lenge without his master's leave, but would, at any time,
meet the Elector in the field, with their respective armies.

In 1 675, Montecuculli was recalled and placed at the
head of the Imperial army, in order to oppose Turenne.
He endeavoured to penetrate into .Alsace, Lorraine, or Bur-
gundy ; while Turenne endeavoured to defeat this design.
The most consummate skill was displayed on the banks of
the Rhine, the scene of their manoeuvres, by these two
celebrated generals, who had reduced war to a scifence.
Turenne, by posting himself on the German side of the
river, not only kept his rival from passing it, but was in a
situation to take advantage of any fortunate circumstance
that might occur. At last he thought that such a circum-
stance presented itself, and was preparing to bring the Ger-
mans to a decisive engagement, by reconnoitering a situa-
tion to erect a battery, when he was killed by a cannon ball.
Consternation, alarm, and indecision, their natural effectsr,
filled the French army; of this the Imperial general took
advantage; and after having been kept three months on
the German side of the Rhine, by the talents of Turenne^
he passed it the moment he heard of his fate, and penetra-
ted into Alsace. The Prince of Cont'e, upon this, was
sent with a reinforcement to join the army, and sujiply the
place of Turenne; but, before his arrival, a part of the
GeriTian forces had laid siege to Treves, and ^larshal Ac-
qui, advancing to its relief, exposed himself by his negli-
gence to a total defeat, escaping with only four attendants
into Treves. Here he resolved to atone for his negligence,
by his gallant defence ; but the garrison mutinied, opened
the gates, and delivered him up to the enemy. As soon
as Conde assumed the command of Turenne's arrny, the
good fortune of the Imperialists ceased, as he not only pre-
vented them from establishing themselves in Alsacp, but
obliged them to repass the Rhine. With this campaign
the prince terminated the career of his military glory, pass-
ing the remainder of his life in honourable retirement at
Chantilly. Montecuculli withdrew at the same time from
active service.

Nothing important happened this year on the side of
Rousillon. In Flanders, Louis was opposed to the Prince
of Orange ; but as each was unwilling to hazard a general
engagement, the Monarch returned to Versailles.

Louis, thus deprived of two of his ablest generals, was
obliged to supply their loss, as far as possible, by the
vigour and extensiveness of his preparations for a new cam-
paign ; and by a new secret treaty, into which he entered
with the King of lingland. By this, they obliged them-
selves to enter into no treaties, unless by mutual consent.

Early in the year 1677, Louis placed himself at the head
of his army in Flanders, and began his operations, before
the enemy's cavalry, for want of forage, could take the
field. Tlie Spanish towns, ill fortified, made but a feeble
resistance. Condi was taken by storm in four days, and
Bouchajn was reduced before the middle of May. Id or-

FRANCE.

321

der to facilitate the reduction of tliis place, the King post-
ed liimself to such advaiitap;e as to prevent the allies from
coniini'- to its relief. The Prince of Orange, indeed, came
in sight of the French army, but lie could not force Louis
to fight ; and thus was an inactive spectator ol the fall of
the place, whicli he had hoped to relieve. Louis soon
afterwards returned to Versailles, leaving the command to
Marshal Schomberg. As soon as the King had departed,
the Prince of Orange laid seige to Macstricht ; but the
place making a gallant defence, sickness breaking out in
the Prince's army, and Schomberg coming to its relief, the
siege was abandoned.

In the midst of these operations by land, Louis did not
neglect his navy. A fleet, under the Duke of Vivonne,
was sent into the Mediterranean, to support the people of
Messina, who had rebelled against the Spaniards ; while
the latter were aided by a Dutch fleet under the command
of De Ruyter. After an obstinate combat, Messina was
relieved by the French. Another engagement took place
near Augusta, in which the French were also victorious,
and De Ruyter was killed. A third, more decisive, was
fought ofi' Palermo : the battle was sustained with great
vigour on both sides, till the French, taking advantage of
a favourable wind, sent some fire ships among the Dutch
fleet. All was now confusion and alarm ; 12 were sunk,
burnt, or taken ; 5000 men were killed, and the French
fleet were masters of the Mediterranean. They were,
however, soon afterwards induced to evacuate Messina, at
the moment they flattered themselves with the hope of se-
curing it.

During these various operations, a congress had been
established at Nimeguen, under the mediation of the King
of England. The Dutch were tired of the war, which had
greatly increased their taxes ; but the Prince of Orange,
filled with ambition and animosity against France, per-
suaded them to continue it, representing, among other
reasons, that it was necessary to obtain a strong frontier on
the side of Flanders, and that they could not honourably
desert their allies. Louis also was desirous of peace ; but
as he wished for favourable conditions, he was sensible that
these could be obtained only by a vigorous prosecution of
the war. Thus, the negociations leading to no result, the
preparations for a new campaign were carried on with
great activity on each side. Louis took the field, as usual,
as early as February, Louvois having by this time es-
tablished large magazines. Valenciennes was his first
object, which he carried by storm, by making the assault
in the morning, when it was least expected, in preference
to the night, the usual time ; to this he was advised by Vau-
ban. Indeed, he never sate down before any place that he
was not almost certain of reducing. He next invested
Cambray and St Omers. The Prince of Orange advanced
to the relief of the latter place, with an army hastily as-
sembled: the siege was covered by the Duke of Orleans,
the Knig's brother, and Marshal Luxemburg; the former
had the effeminate manners of a woman, but these concealed
the most ardent courage ; the latter had been the intimate
friend and favourite pupil of Condfe. The Prince of Orange
being resolved to raise the siege at any rate, an obstinate
battle was fought at Mont Capel, on the 1 Ith of April :
For some time the issue was doubtful, till Luxemburg
made a masterly movement, which compelled the Prince
to seek shelter under the walls of Ypres. The fall of St
Omers immediately followed. Louis, always anxious after
military fame, and jealous of it in others, could not brook
the idea that his brother should have gained a victory by
an army, of which he was the commander ; he listened to
the intelligence with no marks of satisfaction, and never
afterwards entiusted the Duke with the ctiief command.

Vol. IX. Part. I.

The Prince of Orange, in order to compensate for his de-
feat, laid siege to Charleroi, but he was forced to raise it
on the approach of Marshal Luxemburg.

Negociations for peace still continued, and they were
soon brought to a favourable termination. The Parlia-
ment of F.ngland obliged Charles to listen to pacific over-
tures, as they, as well as the nation, were strongly averse
to the vuiion with Fiance, especially for the purpose of war
against Holland. The Dutch were weary of the war, fiom
which hitherto they had derived no advantage, which could
compensate for their additional taxes. France also need-
ed peace ; for though victorious in the field, slie was ex-
hay sted at home. The King had indeed taken the field
early in 1678, and had reduced Ghent, while the army un-
der Luxemburg had invested Mons, when the Dutch am-
bassador at Nimeguen, alarmed at the progress of the ene-
my, signed the treaty of peace with the ministers of I-'rance,
by which Louis secured the possession of I'ranche Comp(6,
Cambray, Aire, St Omers, Valenciennes, Tournay, Ypres,
Bouchain, Capel, Charlemont, Sec. Maestricht was re-
stored to the United Provinces. Spain recovered Char-
leroi, Oudenarde, Aeth, Ghent, and Limburg. The Em-
peror gave up Fribourg to the I'rench, but retained
Philipsburg. Lorraine was offered again to its Duke,
but he chose rather to become a soldier of fortune than ac-
cept it under the conditions which Louis insisted upon.
The Dutch ambassador, in signing this treaty, had not
consulted the Emperor or the King of Spain, both of whom
subscribed to the conditions with great reluctance. The
Prince of Orange was equally averse to it ; and pretending
that he did not know that peace was actually signed, he at-
tacked and gained some advantage over Marshal Luxem-
burg, who concluded the war was terminated, and conse-
quently did not expect this attack.

Very soon after the peace, the Emperor, Spain, and the
United Provinces, disbanded their armies ; whereas Louis
kept up a formidable force. His motive for this was too
soon apparent. Several territories which had formerly
been dependant on the three bishoprics of Metz, Toul, and
Verdun, and on Alsace, had been for a long time in pos-
session of different German Princes, and Louis wished to
unite them to the crown of France. For this purpose he
established two chambers, at Metz and Brisac, and these
tribunals not only passed a decree for the union which the
King wished, but even cited the neighbouring princes, and
the King of Spain, to appear before them, and render
homage to the King of France, or to submit to the confisca-
tion of their possessions. The Elector Palatine and the
Elector of Treves were deprived of the seignories which
they held in this part of Germany. But Louis made a still
more daring and unjust attempt the next year, A. D. 1 68 1.
Strasburg, a powerful city, which commanded the Rhine
by its bridge, was still free, and Louis had long been ex-
tremely desirous to annex it to France. Money and threats
had been employed in vain, — the magistrates absolutely re-
fused to give it up. At last, by the advice of Louvois,
troops were ordered into Lorraine, Alsace, and Franche
Compte, under the pretence of employing them to work on
the fortifications in these provinces. They all assembled
in the neighbourhood of Strasburg, amounting to 20,000
men, and took possession of the ground between the Rhine
and that city, as well as of the redoubt that covered the
bridge. Louvois, who was at their head, now demanded
that the town should be placed under the protection of
France. The magistrates, being intimidated or corrupt-
ed, and the inhabitants in consternation, the city opened its
gates. Its ancient privileges were secured. Vauban was
ordered to repair and strengthen its fortifications, and he
soon rendered it one of the strongest places in Europe.

322

FRANCE.

Louis conducted liiinself with ciiual violence and injus-
tice towards the Spaniards, pretending that his minister
had forgotten to insert the cession of tlie county of Alost,
in the Low Countries, in the treaty of peace, he demanded
tiiatit should be given up to him ; unci as his demand was
not instantly complied with, he besieged Luxemburg. Such
proceedings, manifesting a determination not to be bound by
any treaty,and violent and oppressive in themselves, alarmed
the other powers. The Emperor, King of Sweden, and some
other princes, had already endeavoured to rouse the Ger-
man Empire : and if the Elector of Brandenburg had not
at that time supported France, war would have recom-
menced. A congress, however, was held at Frankfort, for
the purpose of inquiring into Louis* proceedings with re-
gard to the German territories, which he had annexed to
France. To this congress, his plenipotentiaries presented
a memorial in the French language. Great disputes arose
from this circumstance, Latin having heretofore been the
universal language of diplomacy. As there were also other
disputes on points equally frivolous, the congress was dis-
solved, and the business put off till the meeting of the diet
at Ratisbon. In the mean time, the French monarch had
reduced not only Luxemburg, but Courtray and Dixmude.
Upon this, the Spaniards declared war ; but they were not
supported by any other power. A truce of 20 years was
therefore concluded at Ratisbon, by Spain and the Em-
peror with France, by which Louis agreed to restore Cour-
tray and Dixmude ; and was allowed to retain possession
of Luxemburg, Strasburg, the fortress of Kehl, and part
of the territories which his arbitrary courts at Metz and
Brisac had adjudged to him.

Still Louis displayed undoubted proofs of his determina-
tion not to continue long at peace ; and even while at
peace, to augment his power by luijustifiable as well as
justifiable means. Fie paid particular attention to the in-
crease of his navy, and the enlargement and improvement
of his ports. He had upwards of 100 sail of the line, and
60,000 seamen. The port of Toulon was constructed ;
Dunkirk and Brest were repaired, and rendered more fit
for the purposes of holding ships of war; and Rochefort,
in spite, as it were, of nature, was converted into a con-
venient harbour. Squadrons were employed against the
African pirates : bomb ketches, which had been newly in-
vented by a Frenchman, were used against Algiers in 1681,
and again in 1684. This piratical state, as well as those
of Tunis and Tripoli, experienced and acknowledged the
power of Louis. Genoa next felt his wrath. This republic
was accused of selling powder to the pirates, and building
galleys for Spain. The city of Genoa was bombarded ; and
some of its palaces reduced to ashes. The Doge and four
of the principal senators were obliged to go to Paris and
implore the clemency of Louis, who, in order to prevent
the Genoese from depriving him of any part of his triumph,
insisted that the Doge should be continued in office, not-
withstanding the law of the republic, by which a Doge was
deprived of his dignity the moment he quits the city.
\Vhen the Doge was asked, what he thought most ex-
traordinary at Versailles ? he replied, " To see myself
there !"

In 1683, Colbert died. The advantages which he had
secured to France, were great and numerous; he re-
stored her finances, and established or invigorated her
principal manufactures. Subsequent events proved how
much France was indebted to him ; since, when he ceased
to manage the finances, the military successes of Louis
languished. As he found that the Protestants, no longer
able to oppose the government, or to distinguish them-
selves by their valour in the field, were disposed to direct
their attention lomanufactures,he protected and encouraged

them. Their ingenuity and industry were rewarded by opu-
lence ; and their opulence rendered them the objects of
the envy and the jealousy of their Catholic brethren. After
the death of Colbert, they were exposed to a persecution
at once unjust and impolitic, which terminated in the re-
vocation of the edict of Nantes. Even before this, the
Protestants were excluded from all civil employments,
and rendered incapable of holding any share in those very
manufactures, which they had carried to such an ex-
tent and perfection, as to have rendered them the sour-
ces of great individual and national wealth. After the
death of Colbert, they were placed entirely at the mer-
cy of the Chancellor Tellier, and his son, the Marquis de
Louvois, whose leading maxim was, that every person
should tremble at the name of the king. In 1684, they
sent troops into the Protestant districts ; and Louvois
wrote, that it was his majesty's pleasure, tiiat all who did
not conform to his religion, should sufl'er the greatest
severities. By the revocation of the edict of Nantes,
liberty of conscience was abolished ; all the Protestant
churches were destroyed ; and an order was issued even
to lake their children from them, and put them into the
hands of their Catholic relations. The ministers were
banished ; and the others were prohibited from leaving that
kingdom, in which the law inflicted on them such unjust
and cruel persecution. All the teri-ors of military execu-
tion were employed to make them profess the Catholic
religion ; and such as relapsed, were exposed to the most
dreadful punishments. A twentieth part of the whole
body was put to death in a short time ; and a price was
set on the heads of the rest, who were hunted like wild
beasts. Above 500,000 of the most useful and industrious
inhabitants of France were driven into exile, by the revo-
cation of the edict of Nantes ; and thus the staple manu-
factures of France not only declined in that country, but
were transferred to other nations by these exiles. At the
very same time that Louis, out of zeal for the Catholic
religion, was thus persecuting the Protestants, he was in-
sulting the Pope, and depriving him of Avignon. The
cause of his insulting the head of the Catholic religion,
sufficiently proves that Louis was actuated more fre-
quently and strongly by ambition, and a desire to exercise
his power, than by any other feeling or principle ; and that,
even on the most frivolous or unjust pretences, his ruling
passions sought opportunities of displaying themselves.
The Pope Innocent XI. was a man of talents and abilities;
and was extremely anxious to destroy an abominable privi-
lege, which rendered nearly one half of Rome an asylum
for all sorts of criminals, the ambassadors of Catholic
princes in that city extending their right of protection to a
great distance from their dwellings. Fie was also anxious
to root out another privilege, by which whatever entered
Rome under the sanction of an ambassador's name paid no
duty; and thus the trade of the city suffered, and the
revenue was defrauded. Several of the Catholic sovereigns,
on the representation of the Pope, gave up the abuse of
these rights. Louis was next applied to ; but he answer-
ed, that he never acted after the example of others, but
would himself set an example to them ; and accordingly
he sent his ambassador to Rome, with such a number of
guards, as should protect him in the full exercise of these
most unjust privileges.

Such proceedings could not fail to excite the appre-
hensions of the other potentates of Europe. The Em-
peror Leopold having succeeded in defeating the Turks,
in reducing the Hungarian malcontents, and in securing
to the House of Austria the hereditary possession of the
throne of Hungary, resolved to oppose the power of Louis.
The Prince of Orange, who seems to have had a habitual

FRANCE.

523

nnd cliciishcd hatred of Louis, readily entered into tlie
views ol'tlic Emperor; and the league of Augsburg was
formed, in order to restrain the encroachments of France,
and to secure the objects of the treaties of Westpbaiia, the
Pyrenees, and Ninieguen. Spain, Sweden, Denmark, and
Savoy, afterwards joined in the league. Louis, apprized
of the designs of these powers, resolved to strike the first
blow ; and accordingly sent the Dauphin, at the head of
400,000 men, into Germany. After a siege of 19 days,
Philipsburg was reduced ; Manheim, Frankendal, Spiers,
Worms, and Oppenheim, also surrendered; and the Pala-
tinate was again given up to the plunder and devastation
of the soldiers, A. D. 1689. Men, women, and children,
were driven out into the fields, in the midst of a severe
frost, and left to perish of hunger and cold ; while their
houses were reduced to ashes, their property seized, and
their possessions pillaged. More than 40 cities, and an
infinite number of villages, were burnt ; the palaces of the
electors were razed to the ground, and their very tombs
opened in search of hidden treasures. This second de-
vastation made the former one under Turenne appear mild
and merciful. About this time, England was added to
the number of Louis's enemies. James IL had been de-
posed, and William Prince of Orange chosen in his stead.
Louis sent a fleet to Ireland, with troops to support tlie
dethroned monarch. William gladly seized this oppor-
tunity of rousing the parliament and people of his new
kingdom against Louis.

The exertions of the French monarch, though great,
were not commensurate with the strength and number of
the states that opposed him. He had nearly 400,000 men
in the field. The army of Spain and the United Provinces,
after it was reinforced by the English under the Earl of
Marlborough, amounted to nearly 50,000. The Emperor
and the German states supplied three armies; one under
the Elector of Bavaria, who commanded on the Upper
Rhine ; the main army under the Duke of Lorraine, on the
Middle Rhine ; and the third on the Lower Rhine, under
the Elector of Brandenburg. The Duke of Lorraine took
Mentz, and the Elector of Brandenburg took Bonne, while
the Prince of Waldeck obliged the French, under Marshal
D'Humiers, to hazard a battle at Walcourt, in which they
were defeated. The next year, A. D. 1690, Louis gave
the command of this army to Marshal Luxemburg, who,
in the plains of Fleurus, defeated the Prince of Waldeck,
with the loss of 6000 killed, and 8000 taken prisoners. The
Dutch hifantry behaved so gallantly on this occasion, that
the Marshal observed, " Prince Waldeck ought always to
remember the French cavalry ; and I shall never forget
the Dutch infantry." In Italy, the Duke of Savoy, the
celebrated Victor Amadeus, was opposed by the Marshal
de Catinat, who had been bred to the law, but whose
superior genius soon rendered him an excellent general.
He completely defeated the Duke at Staffarada ; and in
consequence of this victory, the whole of Savoy, except
the fortress of Montmelian, was reduced by the French.
Catalonia was the scene of hostile operations, in which
also the French were successful. But what was more ex-
traordinary, and more flattering to the ambition of Louis,
the combined fleets of Holland and England were de-
feated off Beachy Head, by the French fleet under Tour-
ville.

In the beginning of April 1691, Louis himself took
Mons, in defiance of King William. Nothing farther re-
markable happened on the side of Flanders. In Italy,
Marshal Catinat was held in check by Prince Eugene :
on the frontiers of Germany, the war languished ; and in
Catalonia, the advantages gained by the French were
neither splendid nor decisive. The foIlowii>g spring,

Louis and William set out on the same day to join their
respective armies. Namur was reduced, even in the
fight of William, by Louis, v^ith an army of -15,000 men ;
while Luxemburg, with another army, covered the siege.
The reduction of this place was rendered remarkable by
the circumstance, that Coehorn defended in person a new
fort, while Vauban directed the attack. In order to atone
for his not having prevented the fall of this important
town, William endeavoured to surprise the French army
under Luxemburg, at Steinkirk ; but after the most daring
efforts, he was compelled to retreat. The next year he
was yet more unfortunate ; the army of the confederates
being defeated witii the loss of 8000 men at Landen : Iluy
and Charleroi fell into the possession of the French, in con-
sequence of their success at Landen. In the mean time,
the F'rench fleet under Tourville, who received express
and positive orders to fight, that, if victorious, he might
invade England, was defeated near Cape La Hogue, by
the combined fleets of England and Holland.

In the campaigns of 1694 and 1695, fortune seemed
rather to favour the allies : Huy was retaken ; the Duk(,
of Savoy penetrated into Dauphinc ; and King William,
taking advantage of the death of Marshal Luxemburg, in-
vested Namur, which, though it was gallantly defended,
was obliged to capitulate in the sight of the French army
under Villeroi. About this period, a dreadful famine
afflicted France ; it was caused partly by unfavourable
seasons, and partly by the war not having left labourers
sufficient to cultivate the ground. Corn was brought from
abroad ; and if this had been the only measure adopted,
probably the calamity might have been in some measure
alleviated ; but by attempts to regulate the price, the evil
was increased ; many of the peasants perished of hunger,
and the whole kingdom exhibited a dreadful scene of
poverty and distress.

In consequence of the misery of his people, and the ex-
hausted state of his finances, Louis perceived the necessity
either of making peace, or of detaching some of the mem-
bers from the confederacy. He preferred the latter. A
negociation was opened with the Duke of Savoy, who was
induced to desert the allies, and to unite himself to Louis,
in consideration of the restitution of his dominions ; the
honours of sovereignty ; four millions of money ; and the
marriage of his daughter with the young Duke of Bur-
gundy, son of the Dauphin.

The campaign of 1697 was not distinguished by any
remarkable occurrence, except the taking of Barcelona by
the Duke of Vendome, notwithstanding it was gallantly
defended by the Prince of Hesse Darmstadt, with a gar-
rison of 10,000 men. This event induced the King of
Spain to listen to the proposals of France. A congress
for a general peace was opened at the Castle of Ryswick,
under the mediation of Charles XI. of Sweden. The Em-
peror at first was unwilling to listen to terms of accom-
modation, but finding himself deserted by his allies, he
acceded to the treaty.

By this treaty, Louis restored to the Spaniards all the
places he had taken from them ; but the pretensions of the
House of Bourbon to the Spanish succession were left in
full force. He acknowledged William lawful king of
England : with regard to Holland, he adhered to the terms
fixed at Munster and Nimeguen. To the empire he
restored Kehl and Philipsburg ; and to the Emperor,
Friburg and Brisac : he even consented to destroy the for-
tifications of Strasburg on the Rhine ; and restored Lor-
raine, Treves, and the Palatinate, to their respective
princes.

This peace was very unpopular in France, particularly
with the inhabitants of Paris, who reproached and insulted

Ss2

324

FRANCE

the niitiistci's who made it, on tiicir return to the capital ;
but these people looked only to the victories which the
French arms had gained, not to the eflccls of such an ex-
pensive war on the resources of the country, and yet they
were very obvious, and plainly pointed out a peace as
absolutely necessary. The five fust campaigns had cost
more than 200,000,000 extraordinary ; the finances were
in the greatest disorder ; that the people might not he
oppressed with taxes, recourse was had to loans, to the
erecting new offices, and to other measures, which in the
end became more extensively and permanently oppressive
than additional taxes. The value of the silver mark in
coin had been increased three livres in 1689; by which
the commerce was injured, the kingdom impoverished, in-
dividuals unjustly treated, and the revenue sensibly di-
minished. In 1695, the capitation tax was established ; by
it 21,000,000 were raised, but tliey were at the ex pence of
the other taxes, for the revenue of this year was not on the
■whole increased.

It has been noticed, that the succession to the throne of
Spain, which was claimed by the Bouibon family, was not
settled by the terms of the peace of Rysvvick ; and scarcely
•was that peace concluded, before it was evident that hos-
tilities would soon recommence from this cause. The
King of Spain, a prince equally weak in body and mind,
was on the point of dying without children. According
to the strict and just rights of consanguinity, only the
Imperial or French families had a claim to the throne ;
but there was another competitor, who founded his claim
on a will. The three competitors were, Louis XIV. the
Emperor Leopold, and the Elector of Bavaria. Louis
and the Einperor were both grandsons of Philip III. ; in
this repect therefore their claim w as equally strong ; but
the right of birth was in the House of Bourbon, the king
and his son the dauphin being both descended from the
eldest daughters of Philip III. and Philip IV. respectively.
The Imperial family, however, asserted, in support of
their claim, the solemn and repeated renunciations of
Louis XIII. and XIV. and the blood of Maximilian, the
common parent of both branches of the House of Austria.
The Elector of Bavaria claimed, as the husband of the only
surviving child of the Emperor Leopold by the infanta
Margaret, second daughter of Philip IV. who had declar-
ed her descendants the heirs of his throne, in preference
to his eldest daughter's descendants ; so that the will of
Philip IV. must be set aside, before the claim of the Elec-
tor could be rendered null.

In the mean time, a most extraordinary circumstance
occurred. William, King of England, who was always so
jealous of the power of Louis, — who had used his utmost
efforts to restrain or crush it, — and who seemed actuated
even by a personal dislike to that monarch, — concluded a
partition treaty with him, A. D. 1698, by which it was
stipulated, that, on the death of the King of Spai)), his
dominions should be divided among the claimants, in the
following manner : Spain, and all her American posses-
sions, were to be given to the Elector of Bavaria ; the
kingdom of the Two Sicilies, the ports on the Tuscan
shore, and the Marquisatc of Final, were to be given to the
Dauphin; while the Emperor's second son, the Archduke
Charles, was to receive only the dukedom of Milan. As
soon as intelligence of this treaty reached the court of
Madrid, the King of Spain made a will in favour of his
grand nephew the young prince of Bavaria, who died
almost immediately afterwards. Upon this, the disquiets
and intrigues were renewed ; and a second treaty of parti-
tion was signed February Sth, A. D. 1699. This treaty
differed materially from the former. Spain and the West
Indies were to be given to the Archduke Charles ; the

Milanese to the Duke of Lorraine, who was to annex Lor-
raine to France ; and the Uaupliin was, as before, to have
the Two Sicilies, the ports on the Tuscan shore, and Final.
To prevent the union of Spain and the Imperial throne in
one person, it was agreed that the Archduke should not
succeed to the Spanish throne, in case he was raised to
the dignity of king of the Romans, by the death of his
eldest brother. On the other hand, hi order to prevent
the annexation of Spain to France, it was stipulated, that
no dauphin or king of France should evci- be king of Spain.
But the Emperor, expecting the succession to the whole
Spanish monarchy, rejected the treaty of partition. The
King of Spain nominated the Archduke Charles his uni-
versal heir ; so that it was evident that the partition treaty
would be of no effect, unless the parties who had signed it
had recourse to arms ; and it was highly probable, that
if war took place, Louis would grasp at more than his
share, and thus defeat the very object for which he had
signed the treaty : indeed, he was already taking mea-
sures to gain a strong parly at Madrid ; for whereas the
arrogance of the Queen of Spain, and the grossness and
rapacity of her German favourites, disgusted the Spanish
nation, a powerful and favourable impression was made
on them by the affability, insinuating address, and gene-
rosity of the French ambassador, the Marquis D'Har-
court.

The efforts of the Marquis were unintentionally second-
ed by the Emperor and his son. The former refused
10,000 men, which the King of Spain requested of him, in
order to put himself in such a position as would have made
the projectors of the treaty respect the independence of
the Spanish monarchy; and the Archduke spoke of the
Spaniards in reproachful terms. The clergy supported
the claims of the House of Bourbon. Even the Pope was
consulted, and he answered, that the laws of Spain, and the
good of Christendom, required that the House of Bourbon
should be preferred. Influenced by this opinion, Charles
secretly made a will, in which he nominated the Duke of
Anjou, second son of the Dauphin, successor to all his do-
minions. This prince was preferred, as less likely to
unite in his own person the crowns of Spain and France.
The King of Spain died some months afterwards.

Louis at first was undetermined, whether he should ad-
here to the partition treaty, or accept the will of the King
of Spain. At last, by the advice of his council, he accep-
ted the will, and the Duke of Anjou was crowned at Ma-
drid, under the name of Philip V. His grand-father, at
parting with him, exclaimed, " There are no more Pyre-
nees !" He was acknowledged by the Pope, the Duke of
Savoy, Venice, the northern potentates, and even Portugal,
England, and Holland. Such indeed was the general as-
tonishment at seeing a Bourbon prince on the throne of
Spain, that for some time all the powers, except the Em-
peror, remained in perfect tranquillity. But the King of
England was soon roused agauist France, by the insulting
conduct of Louis towards him and the English nation ; for
on the death of James II. the French monarch proclaimed
his son as James III. William upon this, finding that his
subjects were equally indignant as himself, concerted the
Grand Alliance, as it is called, against Louis. This fa-
mous treaty was signed on the \7th of September 1701,
by the plenipotentiaries of the Emperor, the King of Eng-
land, and the United Provinces: its object was to prevent
the union of France and Spain, and the French taking pos-
session of the Spanish dominions in America ; to obtain
satisfaction to the Emperor respecting the Spanish succes-
sion ; and to secure and protect the dominions and com-
merce of the English and Dutch. But the death of the
King of England, the main spring of this treaty, threw the

I'UANCE.

325

allies almost iiilo despaii', aijtl occasioned tiic most inde-
cent joy at tlie couit of France. The succession of y\nnc,
however, and her innnediatc declaration that she adhered
to the grand alliance, revived the liopes and the fears of
the confederates and the French.

Even before the grand alliance was formed, war had be-
'gun in Italy between Fiance and the Emperor. Prince
Eugene, who commanded the Imperial army of 50,000
men, penetrated through the district of Trent ; the French
general Catinat not conceiving himself authorised to ob-
struct his passage, in consequence of orders from his court.
The Milanese was thus exposed to danger; and Catinat
was replaced by the Marquis of Viiiecoi. This general
imprudently attacked Eugene, and was defeated. The
first campaign, after the formation of the grand alliance,
was not distinguished by any great event. In Italy, Eu-
gene was not able to follow up his successes, as his army
was greatly inferior to the combined forces of France and
Spain ; indeed, he was obliged to raise the blocliade of
Mantua, and was defeated in attempting to surprise the
French general Vendome near Luaggra. On the upper
Rhine, the Prince of Baden was defeated by the Marquis
de Vil'.ars, who, for this victory, was immediately after-
wards created a marshal of France. On the side of Flan-
ders, the cause of the Bourbons was not so prosperous.
The Earl of Marlborough, by his masterly movements,
succeeded in getting between the enemy and the principal
towns of Spanish Guelderland, and reduced such of them
as opened the navigation of the Maese, and a free commu-
Jiication with Maestricht. By sea, Louis was unfortunate,
the English having destroyed at Vigo a fleet of galleons,
which had an immense quantity of money on board. In
the beginning of 1703, the Duke of Savoy, who had been
long wavering, concluded a treaty with the Emperor. On
the 20th of September in that year, the Imperialists were
defeated with great slaughter at Hochstet, by Marshal Vil-
lars and the Elector of Bavaria. The consequences of
this victory were the reduction of Augsburg, and the open-
ing of a passage to Vienna itself. About the same time,
the Duke of Burgundy made himself master of old Brisac ;
and, bef6re the end of the campaign, Marshal Tallard re-
took Landau, and defeated the Prince of Hesse, who was
advancing to its relief.

Soon afterwards, Louis was under the necessity of recall-
ing Marshal Villars, in consequence of a revolt in the
Ccvennes. This revolt was occasioned by the persecutions
of the Protestants, who, roused by some pretended prophets
and prophetesses, were maddened with religious fury and
enthusiasm. Their war-cry was, " No taxes, and liberty
of conscience 1" The more they suffered, the greater was
their inveteracy and constancy. They principally inhabi-
ted lonely and desolate mountains, from which they rushed
like wild beasts, and to which they returned when they
were pursued or attacked. Marshal Villars, ashamed of
having been recalled from scenes of real glory to war
against these people, and moreover finding that they could
not be completely subdued, thought it better to treat with
one of their chiefs, a young baker, to whom the rank of
colonel was given. The rebels, however, did not submit
at this time ; but they were afterwards reduced, and al-
most exterminated by the Duke of Berwick.

During the absence of Villars, Marshal Tallard was en-
trusted with the command. The lines of the Elector of
Bavaria had been forced by Marlborough, near Donawert,
with considerable loss ; but the appearance of Tallard in-
spired tliat prince with fresh confidence, and it was deter-
mined to hazard a general battle. This battle was fought
near Blenheim, and, by its result, immortalized Marlbo-
rough, and exposed the Electorate of Bavaria to the rava-

ges of the conquerors. Upon this Villars was recalled,
and by jjrudently remaining on the defensive, obliged the
Duke of Marlborough to relinquish his plan of penetra-
ting into France by tlic course of the Moselle.

The Duke of Marlborough having returned to Flanders,
Villars was employed in watching the numerous armies of
the empire on the Rhine, and succeeded in bailliiig them
by his skill. In Italy, the Duke of Vendome pressed on
Prince Eugene and the Duke of Savoy ; bought the bloody
but indecisive battle of Cassinato ; and menaced Turin
with a siege. These advantages of the French were ba-
lanced by the good fortune of the allies in Spain, where the
Archduke Charles, whom they proclaimed king, made
himself master of most of that country.

In 1706, the Marshal Villeroi was defeated by the Duke
of Marlborough at Ramillies; and the greatest part of
Spanish Flanders rewarded the victors. Louis, instead of
reproaching, endeavoured to console the Marshal for this
defeat; " People at our time of life, Monsieur Marshal,"
said he, " are not fortunate." In Italy, the siege of Turin
was begun by the Marshal Feuillarde, son-in-law of the
minister Chamillard. The siege was covered by the Duke
of Orleans, the nephew of Louis, who was however con-
trpUcd by the superior, but secret powers of the Marshal
Marsin. As the preparations for this siege were immense,
great expectations were formed of its success; but Feuil-
larde was by no meuns fit for his situation ; he was igno-
rant, obstinate, and so conceited, that when Vauban offered
to direct the operations of the siege as engineer, he reject-
ed the offer with disdain. The city, however, notwith-
standing the incapacity of the Marshal, was reduced to the
greatest distress, when Prince Eugene rapidly approached
to its relief. The Duke of Orleans wished to have left
his lines, and met the enemy ; but he was overruled bv
Marshal iVIarsin, and the French waited the attack in their
entrenchments. In two hours, the Prince obtained a com-
plete victory : the Duke of Orleans was wounded, Marsha!
Marsin killed, and the duchies of Milan, Mantua, and Pied-
mont, with the kingdom of Naples, were by this one battle
wrested from the House of Bourbon. The affairs of Louis
in Spain were equally desperate ; but in a short time for-
tune changed sides there, and Chailes was obliged to eva-
cuate his capital, and fly before the Duke of Berwick, who
triumphed at Almanza over the forces of the confederates.

Louis having in vain endeavoured to engage the King
of Sweden in his cause, began seriously to think of put-
ting an end to a war, by which his arms had been disgra-
ced, and his subjects impoverished. He accordingly or-
dered the Elector of Bavaria to write letters to the Duke
of Marlborough, and the field deputies of the United Pro-
vinces, proposing a general congress ; offering, as a proof
of his sincerity, to give up all the Spanish dominions in Ita-
ly to the Archduke Charles; to the United Provinces, a
barrier in the Netherlands; and to the Duke of Savoy, a
compensation for the waste made by the war in his territo-
ries. In return, he asked the restoration of Bavaria to its
native Prince ; and that Pliilip V'. should be allowed to
possess Spain and her American colonies. This offer was,
however, indignantly and wantonly rejected, the views of
the allies extending with their successes. Having hum-
bled France, they now wished to conquer Spain. They
accordingly informed Louis, that no peace could be made
with the House of Bourbon, so long as a prince of that
house sat on the throne of Spain.

Louis was not so humbled in means or in hopes, as to
be willing to accept these conditions, and he resolved to
prosecute the war with vigour; but he was at a loss for
money. In this emergency, he issued bills upon the mint
to a very large amotint, but most foolishly refused to take

32G

FRANCE.

them in payment of taxes. Tlio consequence was, that
they fell into such discredit, as to be at more than SO per
cent, discount. He therefore was obliged to continue the
practice of loans, and to anticipate the royal revenue.
Still his cflbrts were astonishin;^- : The coasts cf the Chan-
nel and Mediterranean were defended by a line of militia ;
an army was stationed in Flanders, under the Duke of Ven-
dome ; another in the neighbourhood of Strasburp, under
Villars ; two smaller armies were collected in Navarre
and Rousillon; and the Duke of Berwick, who still com-
manded in Spain, was strongly reinforced. These rein-
forcements came from Italy, wlicrc tiio French troops,
amounting to 15,000 men, had been obliged, by capitula-
tion, to evacuate Lombardy.

In Spain, the House of Bourbon was successful. The
Duke of Orleans, who assumed the command aftei' the bat-
tle of Almanza, reduced Valentia and Arragon, and took
Lerida in Catalonia, which had formerly resisted the great
Condfe. In Germany, Louis was also fortunate ; for Mar-
shal Villars having passed the Rhine, laid Swabia and
Franconia under contribution. France, itself, however, was
exposed to danger in the midst of these successes ; for
Prince Eugene and the Duke of Savoy, being perfectly at
liberty, in consequence of the French army having evacu-
ated Lombardy, formed a plan, in conjunction with the ma-
ritime powers, to reduce Toulon or MarspiJlcs. But un-
fortunately for the allies, before the Frmce appeared with
the van of the Imperialists, the French had found means
to throw 8,000 men into Toulon, the place which they ulti-
mately had resolved to attack. They had also taken posses-
sion of all the eminences that commanded the city ; and the
allies, in attempting to dislodge them, were repulsed with
considerable loss. In consequence, the generals deemed
it prudent to give up the attempt. Incidentally, however,
this expedition was detrimental to France ; for the detach-
ments drawn from the army of Marshal Villars for the de-
fence of Toulon, obliged him to abandon his projects against
Germany, and to repass the Rhine.

In the month of July, iro8, the French army under the
Duke of Vendorae was defeated by the Duke of Marlbo-
rough, at Oudenarde. Immediately after tliis battle, the
former were joined by a strong reinforcement under the
Duke of Berwick from the Rhine, and the latter by Prince
Eugene's army. The siege of Lisle, the principal city in
French Flanders, and the second in the dominions of Louis,
was now besieged by the allies ; Eugene being engaged
with it directly, and RIarlborough covering the siege. Into
this place Marshal De Bouflers, an old experienced officer,
had thrown himself with some of the best troops of France ;
but notwithstanding his gallant efforts, and his utmost skill,
in the space of two months he was obliged to capitulate. In
Italy, the Duke of Savoy attempted to pass through Switz-
erland, in order to join the troops of the empire in Alsace,
and penetrate into France on tliat side ; but lie was so vi-
gorously opposed by Villars, that he was content with se-
curing his own dominions agahist the invasions of the ene-
my, by reducing Exilles, La Perouse, and Fenestully.

In consequence of the reduction of Lisle, a road was
opened to the very gates of Paris ; and the citizens were
insulted and alarmed by the predatory excursions of the
enemy ; of course, they became discontented and weary of
the war; and their discontent and misery were increased
and participated by the other inhabitants of France, from
the circumstance of a severe winter occurring, which de-
stroyed the grain and the olive trees, and threw over their
prospects, already gloomy, the certainty of a partial famine.
I-.ouis, therefore, was compelled to direct his thoughts to
peace. In 1709, he agreed to yield the whole Spanish
monaichy to the House of Austria ; to cede to the emperor

all that he had conquered on the upper Rhine ; to give
Fumes, Ypres, Menin, Tourney, Conde, and Maubeuge,
as a barrier to the United Provinces ; to acknowledge the
Elector of Brandenburg as King of Prussia, and the Duke
of Hanover as the ninth elector of tiic empire ; to remove
the Pretender from France, and acknowledge Queen Anne;
to restore every tiling rccjuired by the Duke of Savoy ;
and to agree to the cessions made to the King of Portugal,
by his treaty with the confederates. But the allies, think-
ing that the moment was arrived when Louis might be still
more effectually humbled, demanded, in addition to these
terms, his agreement to certain preliminary articles, which
■were not only so degrading in themselves, but couched in
such dictatorial language, that he resolved not to consent
to them ; threw himself upon his people, and, by explain-
ing the ample concessions which he had offered, roused
their indignation and pride. Hostilities therefore were
continued. The army of the allies, amounting to 100,000
men, under Eugene and Marlborough, were opposed to
Villars, who had been called to the command as the last
hope of his country, and who was strongly and advan-
tageously posted between Couriere and Bethune. The al-
lies, after reconnoitring his position, were afraid to attack
him, and set down before Tournay ; which, notwithstand-
ing the strength both of the town and the citadel — the latter
of which had been constructed by Vauban— fell into their
power in the course of a month. They now formed the
plan of besieging Mons. Villars, on his part, resolved to
attempt to save it ; but not arriving there before the allies,
he took possession of a strong camp about a league from
the city, his right extending to the village of Malplaquet.
Here was fought a most obstinate battle, in which Mar-
shal Villars was wounded and carried off the field, and the
allies were the victors, though their loss was nearly double
that of the French. Mons now fell, and its surrender con-
cluded this campaign in Flanders.

As soon as the season for hostile operations was at an
end, Louis renewed his applications for peace, and con-
ferences) were appointed to be held at Gertruydenburg
early in the spring of 1710. At these the French monarch
offered additional concessions; but the allies, or rather the
Dutch deputies, to whom every thing was left, were still
haughty and imperious, insisting that Louis, instead of pay-
ing a subsidy toward the war against Philip V. which he
had proposed, should assist the confederates with all his
forces to drive his grandson from the throne of Spain.
Louis could not possibly agree to this most humiliating and
barbarous condition ; but, as he was extremely desirous of
peace, the conferences were not broken off. In the mean
time, the confederates continued their successful progress
in Flanders: Douay surrendered, the Marshal V^illars
having in vain attempted to relieve it ; Bethune, St Ve-
nant, and Aire, were also reduced. In Spain, the cause of
the Bourbons was rather successful, and with their successes
their drooping spirits revived. In 17 11, a change of minis-
try took place in England ; by which, as the friends of the
Duke of Marlborough were removed from their places, it
was supposed that he also would be deprived of his com-
mand, and probably the war terminated ; but as the war
was popular, and the Duke a great favourite with the nation,
the new ministry did not deem it prudent immediately to
recal him, or terminate it. Another event however oc-
curred, which had still greater influence on the state of
things; this was the sudden death of the Emperor Joseph.
He was succeeded by his brother Charles ; and as it was
contrary to the general alliance that the same person should
possess Spain and the empire, the new ministry of Eng-
land were no longer afraid to avow their wishes for peace.
Hostilities however still continued ; but Uie rigour of the

FRANCE.

327

season prevented the Duke of Marlborough from taking
the field before the beginninsj of May ; and, after he did
take it, no events of importance occurred. Negociations
had been for some time secretly carried on between France
and England, and on the 27tb of September they were
privately signed at London. As the allies were not in-
formed of these negociations, they were highly displeas-
ed at the intelligence that the preliminaries were signed.
But, in the beginning of 1712, general conferences were
opened at Utrecht for restoring tranc|uillity to Europe ;
the French and English ambassadors declaring, that the
preliminaries signed at London were neither binding on
tlie Queen or her allies. While these negociations were
going on, the Dauphin of France died ; and his eldest son,
as well as /lis son, died also. In consequence of these
deaths, the IDuke of Anjou, a sickly infant, only intervened
between the King of Spain and the crown of France. It
was now necessary to submit certain propositions to Louis
and Philip V. respecting Spain ; the latter preferred the
possession of the Spanish throne without hesitation, but
Louis hesitated before he agreed to the choice of his grand-
son. He at last complied ; and it was agreed, that the re-
nunciation of the throne of France by Philip V. should be
registered in the books of the parliament of Paris, and rati-
fied by the cortes of Castile and Arragon.

While these negociations were going on. Prince Eugene
proposed to the Duke of Ormond, who had succeeded the
Duke of Marlborough, to attack the French army under
Villars, in the hope of concluding the war with a splendid
victory ; but the English general having orders not to act
offensively, defeated, by his hesitation, the projects of the
prince, who, however, reduced Qiiesnoy, and sent a de-
tachment to penetrate into the heart of France. Soon after
this, the Dukf of Ormond made known to the allies the
cessation of arms between France and England, and sepa-
pated the British forces from those of the other confede-
rates. Notwithstanding this diminution of his army, the
prince invested Landrecy ; but on this occasion he com-
mitted errors, which were perceived and taken advantage
of by Marshal Villars, who slaughtered or dispersed a bo-
dy of 14,000 men near Denain. The Marshal followed
up this success ; and, having reduced Marchienties, where
the principal magazines of the confederates were deposit-
ed, he recovered successively Douay, Quesnoy, and Bou-
chain. The Dutch now, being sensible of their perilous
situation, acceded to the plan of pacification settled between
France and England. Their example was followed by the
Duke of Savoy, the King of Portugal, and the Emperor;
the last of whom, finding himself unable to support any
military operations in Spain, agreed to the evacuation of
Catalonia. Thus, as was mentioned before, all the belli-
gerent powers, except the Emperor, being disposed for
peace, negociations were opened at Utrecht.

On the 3 1st of March 1713, the treaties were signed at
Utrecht by the plenipotentiaries of France, England, Portu-
gal, Prussia, Savoy, and the United Provinces ; the King
of Spain refusing to sign the stipulations, till a principality
was provided in the Netherlands for the Princess Orsini,
the favourite of his queen. So far as France was concern-
ed, the principal articles weie, that Philip V. should re-
nounce all claim to the throne of that kingdom; that the
Dukes of Berry and Orleans, the next heirs to the French
monarchy after the infant Dauphin, sbould renounce all
right to the crown of Spain, in the event of their accession
to the crown of France; that the Rhine should form the
boundary of the German empire on the side of France ; and
that all fortifications beyond that river, possessed or claim-
ed by France, should either be relinquished to the Em-
peror or destroyed ; that Luxemburg, Namur, and Char-

leroi, should be given to the United Provinces, as a barrier,
along with Mons, Menon, Tournay, Uc. already in their
possession ; that Lisle, Aire, Bethune, and Dinant, should
be restored to France ; that Louis should acknowledge the
title of Queen Anne, and the eventual succession of the
iiouse of Hanover to the J5ritish throne ; that the fortifica-
tions of Dunkirk should be demolished, and the harbour
filled up ; that Newfoundland, Hudson's Bay, and Nova
Scotia, should bo given up by France to England ; and that
the title of King of Prussia should be recognised by Louis,
who should at the same'timc'agree to cede to him the town
of Gueldres, with part of Spanish Guelderland.

As the Emperor continued obstinate, two months were
allowed to him to sign the treaty ; in the course of which,
as Louis had now no other enemy, and Prince Eugene was
not sufficiently strong to oppose Marshal Villars, the latter
successively took Worms, Spires, and Landau; pierced
the lines which the prince had ordered to be drawn from
the Brisgaw, and defeated General Vaubonnc in liis en-
trenchments. The Emperor now was anxious for peace,
and conferences were opened between Prince Eugene and
Marshal Villars at Radstadt. The terms of this treaty,
which was concluded on the 6th of March 1714, were less
favourable to the Emperor than those offered at Utrecht, as
the King of France retained Landau, which he had former-
ly proposed to cede, and got the Electors of Bavaria and
Cologne fully re-established in their dominions. About the
same time, Louis persuaded the King of Spain to forego his
absurd claim in behalf of the Princes Orsini, and to accede
to the general pacification.

Louis did not long survive this peace : he died on the
1st of September 1715, in the 78th year of his age. The
events of his reign sufficiently illustrate his character as a
monarch. His love of glory and ambition were insatiable,
and leapt over the boundaries of justice and humanity, in
order to attain its wishes. His courage has, however, been
doubted; it is certain, at least, that he never exposed his
person, and never, while he commanded the army, under-
took the siege of a place which he was not certain to re-
duce, or fought a battle which he was not certain to win.
It must be said in exculpation, that this love of glory and
ambition, which led him to cause the destruction of so ma-
ny of his fellow creatures, and to despise the plainest and
most powerful dictates of justice and humanity, also induc-
ed him to patronise and encourage every species of litera-
ture, science, and art ; so that France was, in his time,
equally illustrious, by the great military talents of her ge-^
nerals, and by the splendour of her men of science and lite-
rature. At the head of his armies were Turenne, Conde,
Luxemburg, Calinat, Crequi, Bouflers, Montesquieu, Ven-
dome, and Villars; — his fleets were commanded by Tour-
ville, Du Quesne, and Du Guay-Trouin; — Colbert, Lou-
vois, Torcy, and Pomponne, directed his councils; — Bos-
suet, Bourdaloue, and Massillon, taught him his duty ; —
Vauban fortified his towns ; Riquet formed his canals; —
Perrault and Mansard constructed his palaces, which were
embellished by Le Pouissin, Le Seur, and Le Brun ; —
Corncille, Racine, Moliere, Quenault, La Fontaine, Bru-
yere, and Boileau, relieved his more serious cares, by their
wit and literature ; — and Fenelon, Huet, Flechier, Beauvil-
liers, and Bossuet, were the instructors of his children.

Louis seems to have seen the folly, if not the injustice,
of his pursuits before he died ; for he made use of the fol-
lowing memorable expressions to his successor—" En-
deavour to preserve peace with your neighbours ; I have
been too fond of war ; do not imitate me in that, or in being
too expensive. Take advice on all occasions, and endea-
vour to discover the best, that you may always follow it.
Relieve your people as soon as you can ; and do that, v/hich

328

FRANCE.

unfortunately I could m;t do." He also advised him never
to l()ni;et his duty towards God.

Jiy an edict, which was rep;istcrcd in 171*, ho called his
Ici;itiiTKilcd children to the succession, lailini^ the princes
of ihi- blood; but this edict was revoked in 1717.

The Duke of Orleans, soon after the death of Louis XIV.
appealed to the decision of the Parliament of Paris against
the will of thai monarch, and was appointed by them sole
regent. Althoujrh excessively addicted to ])leasiire, yet,
in the early part of his administration, his ineasiin's were
popular, wise, and beneficial. He restored to the parlia-
ment the right of remonstrating against the edicts of the
crown ; compelled those who had pliuidtred the people,
by their extortions during the late reign, to give up their
inijustly acquired wealth; repcojded the towns and dis-
tricts that had been thinned by the ravages of war; nou-
rished commerce and agriculture ; and entered into a close
alliance with Great Britain and the United Provinces. But
his measures were interrupted, and his power threatened,
by the intrigues of the Cardinal Alberoni, first minister of
Spain. This man, persuading Philip V. that his renuncia-
tion of the throne of France was invalid, and that he had a
better right to it than the Duke of Orleans, in case of the
death of Louis XV. endeavoured to inflame those who were
discontented with the measures of the Duke. But his
plots having been discovered, his adherents in France
were executed, and th.e Duke's authority was henceforth
more firmly established. Soon after this, the Duke formed
the quadruple alliance ; and Alberoni still continuing his
intrigues, a declaration of war against Spain was issued by
fireal Britain and France. The Duke of Berwick, who
had the command of one of the French armies, marched to-
words the frontiers of Spain, took possession of St Sebas-
tian and Fontarabia ; and having made preparations for the
siege of some other places in the kingdom, Philip was in-
timidated into a peace, acceding to the terms prescribed by
the quadruple alliance, and dismissing Alberoni. In order
•to cement the thrones of France and Spain, the Duke of
Orleans projected a double marriage ; his own daughter
being united to the Prince of Asturias, and the Infanta of
Spain to the King of France.

In 1716, the famous Mississippi scheme began. John
Law, a Scotchman, who had been compelled to fly from
England for murder, and afterwards became an adven-
turer, was the author of it ; and the greatness of the idea
recomrnended it to the Duke of Orleans. His project was
to pay off the national debt, by the introduction of paper
money. A bank was accordingly established, which was
soon declared royal, and united with the Mississippi, or
West India company, from whose commerce the greatest
riches were expected. The opinion that had long been
prevalent, that the neighbourhood of the river Mississippi
contained inexhaustible treasures, was the origin of this
expectation. It would appear, that Law himself, who at
first regarded the Mississippi scheme as merely subordi-
nate and auxiliary to his plan of paper credit, was in a
short time beguiled by it. In 1719, the notes which he
fabricated, exceeded in nominal amount fourscore times
the real value of the current coin of the kingdom. At
first, only the debts of the state had been paid off in this
paper; but afterwards, so extreme was the eagerness to
obtain a share in the scheme, that they were circulated
very widely through the kingdom. At length, the late
financiers, in conjunction with the great bankers, exhaust-
ed the royal bank, by continually drawing upon it for large
sums. The consequence of this was, that every one wanted
to convert his notes into cash; and public credit sunk all
at once. Law himself was obliged to flee. Upwards of
500,000 sufferers presented their whole fortunes to govern-

ment in paper, which, after liquidating these debts, Wiarged
itself with the enormous sum of 1631 millions of livrcs,
to be i>aid in specie.

In 1723, the king being arrived at the age fixed for his
majority, the Duke of Orleans resigned the regency, and
was ajjiiointcd minister, but he did not long survive. He
was succeeded in the administration by the Duke of Bour-
bon, who was soon supplantfd by Cardinal Fleury, who had
been preceptor to Louis XV. and was now 73 years old.
The character of the Cardinal was very different from that
of statesmen in general. He was of a mild disposition, and
regarded the preservation of peace as the greatest blessing
which a sovereign could bestow on his subjects. This
blessing therefore he was extremely anxious, during his
whole administration, to preserve; and, as Sir Robert
Walpole, the minister of Great Britain at this period, was
equally pacific, the tranquillity of Europe was continued,
with little interiuption, for nearly 20 years. At length, the
death of the King of Poland, in 1733, rekindled the flames
of war, and France was induced to embark in it, in support
of Stanislaus, the father-in-law of Louis, (for the Infanta of
Spain had been sent back, before the marriage projected
by the Duke of Orleans was completed.) France, on this
occasion, united with Spain and Sardinia, and hostilities
commenced on the side of Germany and Italy. The Duke
of Berwick passed the Rhine, but was soon afterwards
killed before Philipsburg. In Italy, the Imperialists were
defeated by the French ; the Spaniards became masters of
Naples and Sicily ; and the forces of France and Italy,
under Villars, took Milan and some other places. Soon
after this Villars died, and his successor, the Marshal de
Coigny, defeated the Imperialists, under the walls of
Parma.

The Emperor, discouraged by these losses, proposed
peace ; and Cardinal Fleury, sincere and constant in his
wish for it, acceded to the proposal. By the treaty, Stanis-
laus was to renounce his pretensions to Poland, in consi-
deration of the cession of Lorraine to him during his life;
and Louis agreed to restore all his conquests in Germany,
and to gaurantee the pragmatic sanction, or domestic law,
by which the succession to the hereditary dominions of
the house of Austria were secui-ed to the heirs female of
Charles VI. in case he should die without issue. Soon
after this peace, Charles VI. died ; and the disputed suc-
cession to his hereditary dominions, notwithstanding the
pragmatic sanction, kindled anew the flames of war in Eu-
rope. By virtue of this sanction, the succession to the
whole Austrian dominions belonged to Maria Theresa, the
late emperor's eldest daughter, who was married to Fran-
cis of Lorraine, Grand Duke of Tuscany. Almost all the
European powers had gauranteed the pragmatic sanction;
nevertheless, when the period came, in which it was neces-
sary to support it, many of them took up arms to set it
aside. The claimants to the dominions of the house of
Austria, were the Elector of Bavaria, the King of Poland,
the King of Spain, and the King of France ; but the last
did not appear as a competitor, being afraid of awakening
the jealousy of all Europe. These claimants were, how-
ever, astonished, when the King of Prussia also appeared
among them ; and while they were inactive, actually in-
vaded Silesia. Cardinal Fleury, notwithstanding this vio-
lent invasion of the pragmatic sanction, was still desirous
of peace; but he uas still unable to withstand the ardour
for war in the French councils ; and this ardour was in-
creased by the idea, that the period was at length arrived,
so long desired by France, for breaking the power of the
house of Austria, and exalting that of Bourbon on its ruins.
A treaty with the Elector of Bavaria was accordingly con-
cluded, by which the King of France engaged to assist hivq,

FRANCE.

329

with his whole force, on condition that, if he siiccccdocl in
liis projects, he woukl renounce tlie barrier treaty, and not
attempt to recover any parts of the empire wliicli Franco
might have conquered ; a treaty was also concluded with
the King of Prussia at the same time, the object of wliich
was the total dismemberment of the possessions of the
house of Austria. The Elector of Bavaria was appoint-
ed lieutenant general of the French armies, with the
Marshals Belleisle and Broglio to act under him. Louis
XV. at the same time, issued a hostile declaration against
the King of Great Britain, in his character of Elector of
Hanover.

The Elector of Bavaria was very rapid in his progress.
Having entered Upper Austria, he took possession of Lintz,
and sent his detachments to the neighbourliood of Vienna
itself. In this extremity Maria Theresa roused the Hun-
garians in her behalf; their nobility were instantly in
arms; and the Elector of Bavaria, threatened by the forces
which Maria Theresa had collected, and finding the season
of the year adverse to farther proceedings, gave up the
plan of investing Vienna, and marched into Bohemia,
where being joined by 20,000 Saxons, he laid siege to
Prague. After the reduction of this place, he was, on the
4th January 1742, elected Emperor, under the name of
Charles VH. Here, however, his good fortune terminated :
the Prussians and Saxons having been unsuccessful, were
obliged to retreat, and the Austrians seized this opportuni-
ty of attempting to unite their whole force against the
French, under Marshals Belleisle and Broglio. The King
of Prussia, fortunately for the French, prevented their
junction ; but this monarch soon afterwards suspecting the
sincerity of his ally, the King of France, concluded a se-
parate treaty at Breslaw. This unexpected and alarming
intelligence was followed by disastrous consequences ; for
Marshals Broglio and Belleisle, pressed by superior for-
ces, were reduced to the humiliating necessity of offering
to evacuate all the places which lliey held in Bohemia,
provided they were permitted to retire with their arms,
ammunition, and baggage. This proposal was haughtily
rejected by the Queen of Hungary; and Marshal Maille-
bois, who commanded the F'rench forces on the Rhine, was
ordered to march into Bohemia, at the head of 42,000 men.
In Westphalia, he was joined by 30,000 French and Impe-
rialists. In the mean time. Marshal Belleisle, who had as-
sumed the command in Prague, was closely pressed by the
Prince of Lorraine. The latter, on learning the approach
of Marshal Maillebois, turned the siege into a blockade,
and advanced with the main body of his army towards the
frontiers of the kingdom, in order to oppose the French.
He was soon afterwards joined by a large Austrian army,
and in the mean time Marshals Belleisle and Broglio
formed the design of uniting with Maillebois. Prince
Charles, however, by taking possession of the passes in
the mountains, utterly defeated this scheme; and Maille-
bois was obliged to return to the Palatinate, whither he
was followed by the Prince of Lorraine ; while the Aus-
trian army, under Lobkowitz, obliged Belleisle and Broglio
again to take refuge in Prague.

Soon afterwards, Broglio having escaped from this city
in disguise, took upon him the command of the French
army in the Palatinate ; so that the fate of Prague, towards
which the attention of all Europe was now directed, de-
pended solely upon the conduct and courage of Belleisle,
and the small remains of that gallant army, which had
given an emperor to Germany. Now it was that the pow-
ers and resources of Bclleisle's mind were made manifest;
having formed the plan of his retreat, by making in one
quarter of llie town a feint for a general forage, and march-
ing out at another, he succeeded in eluding the besiegers,

Vol. IX. Part I.

and in reaching the defiles with an unbroken army. In this
march he had ten leagues to pass over ; the ground was
covered with snow; the cold intensely severe; all the in-
habitants were his enemies; and as soon as his flight was
known. Prince Lobkowitz with 12,000 infantry, and 8000
cavalry, hung on his rear. After a fatiguing march of
twelve days, he reached Egra, and entered Alsace without
the loss of a single man from the enemy, though a thou-
satvd had perished in consequence of the rigour of the
season.

In 1743, the Queen of Hungary being victorious in Ger-
many, and in possession of the territories of the Emperor
Charles VII. the French became heartily tired of a war, in
which they had suffered so severely, and made proposals
of peace, on rather humiliating conditions, though Cardinal
F'leury no longer influenced the cabinet of Versailles ; he
had died in the beginning of this year. But the Queen of
Hungary rejected all pacific overtures ; and Louis made
preparations for carrying on the war with increased vigour
and effect. Affairs, however, were still gloomy; the F^rench
were driven from all their positions in the Upper Palati-
nate; and Marshal Broglio was obliged to abandon a strong
camp on the Danube, and to retire towards the Rhine.
When he reached Donawert, he was joined by 12,000 men
under Count Saxe ; but his main body being nearly ruined,
he still continued his retreat. "About this time, the battle
of Dettingen was fought between the French and the Eng-
lish ; for an account of which, see the article Britain.

On the 25th of October in this year, a family compact,
or perpetual alliance, was formed between France and
Spain at Fontainbleau ; in consequence of which the admi-
rals of their combined fleet, in the harbour of Toulon, re-
solved to give battle to that of England, by which they had
been blocked up. Tlie particulars of this engagement arc
given in the article Britain. Hitherto I'rance and Eng-
land, though actually engaged in hostilities, had not issued
mutual declarations of war. These, however, were put
forth tov/ards the end of March 1744. F'or the particulais
of this war, we shall refer our readers to the article Bri-
tain ; and in this place confine ourselves to the operations
of France against Austria and Sardinia. About the begin-
ning of April, the French and Spaniards formed the plan of
penetrating into the Duchy of Milan, through the Genoese
territories ; but the republic not daring, in consequence of
the threats of Admiral Matthews, to allow this passage, the
French and Spaniards defiled off towards Piedmont, and
attacked a strong post, where the King of Sardinia com-
manded in person. This post they carried ; in consequence
of which the King of Sardinia drew off his troops, in order
to cover his capital. In the mean time, the confederates
invested Coni, the possession of which would have opened
them a passage into Milan. The King of Sardinia, on learn-
ing this, having been reinforced by 10,000 Austrians, re-
solved to attempt the relief of the place. He accordingly
attacked the F'rench and Spaniards in their entrenchments;
but, after an obstinate engagement, he was compelled to
retire, not, however, before he had reinforced the garrison
of Coni, and supplied it with provisions. As the winter
was now approaching, the confederates raised the siege,
repassed the mountains, evacuated Piedmont, and entered
Dauphine.

In the beginning of November, a treaty was concluded
at I'rankfort, through the influence of I'"rance, between the
Emperor and King of Prussia, the King of Sweden, and
the Elector Palatine, the declared object of which was to
restore the imperial dignity, and the tranquillity of Ger-
many, by persuading or obliging the Queen of Hungary to
acknowledge Charles VH. The King of Prussia, how-
ever, by a separate agreement, was not obliged to take up

330

FUANCE.

arms, till he should see France act with vigour. In conse-
quence oi this agreement, Louis put himself at the liead
of his army in Flanders, consisting of 120,000 men, and
invested Menin, which surrendered in seven days ; several
other places were reduced with etjual facility ; while the
allied army, amounting only to 70,000 men, were posted
behind the Scheldt. Hut Louis was soon obliged to leave
the scene of his triumphs, to go and defend his own kiiig-
ttom ; for Prince Charles of Lorraine having passed the
Khine, entered Alsace with an army of 60,000 Auslrians.
Against him, the king dispatched first the Duke of Noailles,
and afterwards marched himself; leaving Mu-shal Saxe,
with part of the troops, to oppose the allies in Flanders.
This general, though now inferior to them, yet, by his con-
summate abilities, prevented them from gaining any ad-
vantages during the remainder of the campaign.

Before the Prince of Lorraine could achieve any opera-
tion of importance, having got information that the King of
Prussia had entered Bohemia, he judged it prudent to re-
pass the Rhine ; after which, Louis hiid siege to Fribourg,
and the reduction of this place terminated the campaign
on the side of Alsace.

In 1745, Charles VII. died ; and his son being too young
to become a candidate for the Imperial throne, concluded a
peace with the Queen of Hungary. This treaty, it w as ex-
pected, would lead to a gelieral pacification, as the cause
of war in Germany no longer existed ; but the INIarquis
D'Argeiison, the French minister, who had great influence
in the cabinet, declared that France, having undertaken to
give a head to the Germanic body, ought to hazard the last
soldier, in support of what she claimed, and had declared
she would do. The cabinet of Versailles, therefore, offered
the Imperial throne to the King of Poland; but he refused
it. The French were still obstinate ; and as they could
find no candidate of their own, they determined to continue
the war, in order to prevent the election of the husband of
Maria Theresa. The republic of Genoa, which had been
long wavering in its politics, now concluded a treaty with
the House of Bourbon, which turned out fatal to the inter-
ests of the Queen of Hungary and the King of Sardinia.
The latter was obliged to retire, by the conjoint army of
the French, Spaniards, and Neapolitans, beyond the Tana-
ro ; the city of Pavia was taken by assault, and Milan
itself forced to surrender. Turin was next threatened ;
but the confederates, contented with their success, closed
the campaign by a triumphant entry into Milan.

Although the avowed object of Louis was to prevent the
election of the Grand Duke, yet he had also in view the
conquest of Flanders. In order to carry into execution
both these plans at onco, he assembled two great armies ;
one on the Maine under the Prince of Conti, and another
luider Count Saxe, which invested Tournay. As the re-
lief of this place was of great consequence, the allies,
consisting of the Austrians, Dutch, Hanoverians, and Bri-
tish, though inferior to the French, resolved to attempt its
relief. This gave rise to the battle of Fontenoy; for an
account of which, see Britain. After this battle, while
rl'.e allies were entrenched between Antwerp and Brussels,
Marshal Saxe and Count Lauendahl reduced Tournay,
Oiulenarde, Ath, Dendermond, Ghent, Ostend, and every
olher fortified place in Austrian Flanders. But though thus
: uccessful in this object, Louis was less fortunate in the other
object of the war : for he was not able to prevent the Queen
of Hungary from raising her husband to the Imperial throne.
By the treaty of Dresden, the King of Prussia was de-
tached from the house of Bourbon ; notwithstanding which,
the King of France was determined to push his conquests
in the Netherlands, while the King of Great Britain, enrag-
ed at Louis for supporting the Pretender, was equally re-

solved to opposchis projects. Louis commenced the cam-
paign with his usual vigour. Marshal Saxe took Brussels
in the beginning of February, 1746. In April, the King
joined his army, now 120,000 strong ; Antwerp was reduc-
ed ; Mons, one of the strongest places in I'landers, held
out only a few weeks; and, by the lOlh of July, Louis was
master of Flanders, Brabant, and Hainault. The confe-
derates, hitherto not able to oppose the French, now muster-
ed 87,000 men, under Prince Charles of Lorraine ; and
with this force they took up a strong position in the neigh-
bourhood of Namur, as they conceived this place would be
next invested. Marshal Saxe, after reconnoitering their
situation, did not deem it prudent to attack it ; but in order
to attain his object by other means, he reduced Dinant, and
thus obtained the comm.-'.nd of the navigation of the Maesc
above Namur, while a large magazine of the confederates
was captured at Huy. The communication being now cut
oft' with Macstricht, Prince Charles, from a scarcity of pro-
visions, was obliged to quit his post, and leave Namur to its
fate. The garrison was numerous, and the place well de-
fended ; yet, on the 6th day the town was compelled to sur-
render, and the citadel on the 16th. Marshal Saxe, who
never lost a moment's time, immediately after this passed
the river Jaar, at the head of the whole French army, and
attacked the allies in the villages of Leirs, Warem, and
Roucoux, at the same time, by 55 battalions in brigades.
As soon as one was repulsed, another advanced; so that
the allies, wearied out, and by some unaccountable neglect,
destitute of artillery, were obliged to abandon the villages,
and retreat towards Maestricht. The French, however, had
sufiered so much, that they did notattempt to pursue them
This battle was not attended with any important conse-
quences : with it, the operations in the Low Countries
terminated.

As soon as Louis learnt the defection of the King of
Prussia, he made, without consulting the court of Madrid,
such advantageous proposals to the King of Sardinia, that
they were instantly accepted, and a cessation of hostilities
took place ; but the jealousy and indignation of the Spa-
nish Monarch were so great, that the treaty was annulled.
The consequence, however, was injurious to France, as,
from the misunderstanding, the French and Spanish ar-
mies for some time effected nothing. The king of Sardi-
nia, on the breaking off the treaty, made himself master of
Asti, which was garrisoned by 50C0 French troops. This
circumstance tended still more to foment the jealousy be-
tween France and Spain, the French general being accused
of treachery in not succouring this place. The Spaniards
immediately raised the siege of Milan, and the French,
afraid that their communication with Provence might be
cut off, retired to Novi. This misunderstanding and jea-
lousy being at last removed, the French and Spanish ar-
mies again united, and attacked the Austrian camp at St
Lazaro; but they were compelled to retire after suffering
a very severe loss.

On the death of the king of Spain, the generals of the
combined armies, doubtful in what manner his successor
would act, were desirous of securing a communication with
France, and accordingly commenced a retreat, which was
conducted with great ability by the Count de Maillebois,
son of the Marshal of that name. The King of S^irdinia
pursued, and endeavoured to harass them: at Rotto Fredo
he brought them to battle, and defeating them, Placentia
was obliged to surrender. The French and Spaniards next
took shelter under the cannon of Genoa; but not deeming
this situation secure, they left the city to its fate, and re-
treated, the latter into Provence, and the former into Savoy.

The King of Sardinia being desirous of turning the vic-
torious Austrians aside from Italy, persuaded them, in coa-

FRANCE.

331

junciion wilh the Bi-kibli cabinet, to invade France. Count
Bruiin, who commanded the Austrians, accordingly invaded
Provence ; but, by the masterly conduct of Marslial Hel-
leisle, he was under the necessity of repassing the Var.
Towards the end of tliis year, the King of France discov-
ered some wish to make peace, and a congress was open-
ed at Breda ; it came to nothing, however, as the French
■were exorbitant, and even insolent, in their demands.
After the rupture of this negociation, the States General
agreed to unite with Britain and Austria in opposing
the ambitious projects of Louis: they were to fur-
nish 40,000, the King of Great Britain an equal number,
and Maria Theresa 60,000, all of which were to act in tlie
Netherlands. Another army of 90,000 Austrians and Pi-
edmontese, under the King of Sardinia, was to enter
Provence. To oppose the first army, Louis assembled
5 50,000 men in the Netherlands, over whom was placed
Marshal Saxe, with the title of Mareschat de Cin/ie Gene-
rale. The Spanish army in Savoy was greatly augmented,
and 60,000 French troops were stationed in Provence.

The grand army of thd confederates took the field in
March, 1747 ; but it lay inactive for six weeks, exposed
to the inclemency of the weather; while Marshal Saxe's
army was witliin their cantonments at Bruges, Antwerp,
and Brussels, furnished with plenty of provisions, and un-
fatigued. In May, the King of France arrived at Brussels,
and resolved to besiege Maestricht. The allies being ex-
tremely desirous to preserve this city, the battle of Val,
fought on the 1st of July, vvas the consequence, in which,
after various turns of fortune, the Duke of Cumberland,
who commanded the allies, was obliged to quit the field,
and retire to Maestricht. Marshal Saxe immediately dis-
patched Count Laucndahl with 30,000 men to invest Bcr-
gcn-op-Zoom, the strongest fortification in Dutch Brabant.
Tt was taken by storm on the 14th of September, and the
I'rench thus rendered masters of the whole navigation of
the Scheldt.

The French were equally active on the side of Italy ;
for Marshal Belleisle having passed the Var, took posses-
sion of Nice, and reduced the fortresses of Montalban, Villa
Franca, and Ventimiglia. While, however, the French
were thus successful in this part of Italy, a powerful army
of Austrians and Piedmontese invested Genoa, and proba-
bly would have succeeded in their enterprise, had they not
"been alarmed at the rapid progress of Marshal Belleisle,
■which induced them to raise the siege, in order to cover
Piedmont and Lombardy. The apprehensions of the King
of Sardinia respecting Piedmont were by no means ground-
less ; for the Count Belleisle, brother to the Marshal,
endeavoured to penetrate into it by the route of Dauphine.
lie was, however, killed, in attempting to force the pass of
Exilles ; and his army, having been repeatedly repulsed,
was obliged to retire with considerable loss. As soon as
the Marshal was informed of this misfortune, he deemed
it prudent to retreat towards the Var.

In her naval transactions of this year, France was very
unfortunate; six French ships of war, and four East India-
men, being taken by the English fleet, commanded by Ad-
mirals Anson and Warren ; while 46 West Indiamen were
captured by Commodore Fox. These losses, however
great, were increased by the defeat of a French squadron
off Belleisle, and the capture of six ships of the line by
Admiral Hawke. Louis, perceiving that his naval power
was nearly annihilated, while his victories by land were
more splendid than advantageous, began seriously to wish
for peace ; and all the other parties being heartily tired of
the war, a congress was opened at Aix-la-Chapelle, in the
beginning of 1748. Marshal Saxe was not, however, in
^the mean time idle : he in'vested ^I^aestricht ; and though

the state of the siege was unfavourable to the French
when the intelligence arrived of the signing of the preli-
minaries, yet it was agieed, " that for the glory of the
arms of his Most Christian Majesty, the place should be,
immediately surrendered to his general, but restored on
the conclusion of peace." On the 7th of October the
definitive treaty was signed, and hostilities ceased in all
quarters.

France, now freed from external war, was threatened with
civil commotion, in consequence of religious disputes be-
tween tlie Jesuits and the Janscnists. These disputes had
existed in the latter end of the reign of Louis XIV. when
the bull Unigenitus, by whicli the opinions of the Jansenists
were condemned, threw all France into the most violent
commolion. The death of Louis XIV. however, put an
end to the dispute; and as the Duke of Orleans would not
allow the bull to be carried into effect, tranquillity ■was re-
established. In 1750, the disputes again broke out; the
parliament and the people were inimical to the bull ;
the Arclibishop of Paris endeavoured to enforce it, and
Louis XV. at length prohibited the interposition of the Par-
liament. This body was not disposed to subinit quietly,
and the King at last banished the refractory members to
different parts of the kingdom. In 1754, however, he
found it absolutely necessary to recal them ; and the arch-
bishop of Paris, and two bishops, were in their turn banish-
ed. A temporary calm was thus produced ; but the dis-
pute respecting the bull did not subside, and the King at
lengtli referred it to the Pope. The decision of his Holi-
ness, that the bull ought to be acknowledged as an univer-
sal law, so enraged the Parliament, that they suppressed
the Pope's brief by an arret. This renewed the difference
between them and their sovereign, who, in 1755, v/ent to
the Parliament with all his guards, and suppressed the 4th
and 5th Chambers of Inquest. Upon this, 15 councillors
of the Great Chamber, and 124 members of the other
courts, resigned ; and the King was again under the neces-
sity of accommodating matters with the Parliament. Soon
afterwards, the Jesuits were expelled, chiefly by the au-
tliority and influence of the Parliament, the members of
which, elated at this victory over ecclesiastical tyranny, next
attempted to set bounds to the absolute power of the crown.
We have brought the history of these ecclesiastical dis-
putes down beyond the period at which we broke off from
the political history, both because it is thus rendered con-
nected and complete, and because in it we may clearly
trace the germ ot those causes which afterwards produced
the Revolution.

Almost immediately after the establishment of peace by
the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, France began to discover
projects of ambition, both in America and the East Indies.
These were so glaring, and prejudicial to Great Britain,
that, in 1755, that court began to prepare for hostilities.
Preparations were also made by the court of Versailles.
In 1756, France threatened the Electorate of Hanover;
in consequence of which, Gieat Britain united herself with
the King of Prussia, while France formed an alliance with
tlie imperial courts of Russia and Sweden. One of the first
attempts of the I'rench was the conquest of Minorca,
which, not being relieved by Admiral Byng, they succeed-
ed in reducing. In 1757, a French army of 80.000 men
passed the Rliine, in order to invade the Electorate of Ha-
nover ; while a smaller French force joined the impeiial
army on the Maine. The Duke of Cumberland was in-
vested with the command of the troops which were to pro-
tect Hanover ; but, attempting in vain to obstruct the pro-
gress of the enemy, he was obliged to retire behind the
VVeser ; and afterwards, on the 8th of September, to siirn
the convention of Closter-Seven. As soon as the French
T t2

332

FRANCE.

general had thus gained possession of the Electorate of Ha-
nover, he formed a junction with the Iinpcrialisls. Tlicir
object was to drive the Prussians out of Saxony ; and, lor
this purpose, they passed the Saal, and summoned Leipsic.
The King of Prussia advanced against tlicm, and fouglit
the battle of Rosbach, on the 5th of November, 1757, in
which he gained a complete victory. Towards the end of
this year, the Hanoverians, roused by the oppressions of
the French, and headed by Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick,
succeeded in forcing them to repass the Rhine. In 1758,
the Duke of Bclleisle was placed at the liead of the mili-
tary department in France ; and the ininisters, who had ob-
tained their situation through female inlluencc, were dis-
inisscd. The Duke soon discovered how lit he _v as for tlic
arduous task that he had undertaken. His lirst object was
to strengthen the army on the Rhine; but, notwithstanding
this, it was defeated at Crevelt by Prince Ferdinand, and
obliged to retire under the cannon of Cologne. In this
battle, the son of llie Duke of Belleislc was killed, — a
young man of great promise, and whose fate was eciually
lamented by his enemies and his own countrymen. Further
reinforcements being sent to the French army, and M. dc
Coytades having assumed the command, Prince Fcidinand
ivas obliged to acton the defensive for some time: he al-
terwards joined tlie British forces, and put his army into
winter quarters towards the end of October.

The naval alVuirs in 1758 belong more properly to the
History of Britain : nevertheless, it may be proper very
briefly to notice them here. Two French ships of the line
were driven on the coast of Spain by Admiral Osborne.
The same fate attended a fleet that was bound for North
America. But the success of Britain against France, in
other respects, was not so great as her naval supremacy
led the inhabitants of the former country to expect, and of
the latter to dread ; for an expedition, prepared at conside-
rable expence, and from which great expectations were
formed, to the coast of France, by no means produced the
triumph to Britain, or the loss and degradation to her en-
emy, which was anticipated. Cherbourg, indeed, was ta-
ken, and the fortifications demolished ; but in consequence
of the accumulating force which the French collected, it
was then deemed necessary to retreat: and at St Cas the
retreating army suffered severely.

In America, where the war may be said to have origi-
nated, the French were unsuccessful. Louisburg was be-
sieged and taken; and the whole island of Cape Breton, as
■veil as that of St John, submitted to the arms of his Bri-
tannic Majesty. The French setllcmenls on the river Se-
negal, and the island of Goree, were also wrested from them.
In the East Indies, however, tlie Count de Lally, governor
general of their possessions there, was more fortunate, hav-
ing taken possession of the British factories of Cuddalore
and Fort St David's.

In the beginning of 1759, the French made themselves
masters, by an act of perfidy, of Frankfort on the Mayne.
As this acquisition secured to them the course of the
Maine and the Upper Rhine, the allies resolved to attempt
iheir dislodgment ; but Prince Ferdinand, in attempting to
gain possession of the village of Bergen, which was neces-
sary for this purpose, was repulsed by the Duke of Broglio.
Soon afterwards, the French armies on the Upper and
Lower Rhine formed a junction, which rendered it prudent
for the Prince to retire. Nothing now intervened to pre-
vent them from taking possession of Munster and Min-
den; and the acquisition of them exposed Hanover to great
danger. The Prince, therefore, in order to save the Elec-
torate, resolved to give them battle ; and the battle of Min-
den was fought, in consequence, on the 1st of August.
Although the result of this battle was, perhaps, not so sa-

tisfactory and advantageous to the Prince as it might have
been, it enabled hirn to defend the Electorate cfiectually. No
otlier event of consec|uence having taken place tliis year
on the Continent of Europe, in which the French were
concerned, we shall now briefly notice the disasters that
attended them in the West Indies, North America, the
East Indies, and by sea. In tlie West Indies, Guadaloupc
was reduced, though they saved Martinique from the at-
tack of the English. In North America, the genius and
gallantry of Wolf stripped them of all their possessions,
by the victory which he gained on the heights of Abraham.
In tlie East Indies, General Lally was at lirst successful: he
even attempted the siege of Madra.s, but he was obliged to
abandon the enterprise. The French were afterwards de-
feated whith great slaughter in two engagements. By sea
they were more than usually unfortunate this year; for,
making preparations for an invasion of Britain, all their
jiorls in the Channel were blocked up by Admirals Rodney
andHawke; while Admiral Boscawen, for a time, suc-
ceeded in blocking up their fleet in the harbour of Toulon.
Tlic French Admiral, however, found an opportunity to es-
cape; and the sea fightoff Cape Logos was the consequence,
in wliich the Toulon fleet was defeated, with the loss of
four ships of the line. Notwithstanding these disasters, the
French minister seemed still bent on invading England ;
and the English fleet having been driven oft' the coast of
France in a storm. Admiral Conflans put to sea with 2 1 sail
of the line and some fiigates: He was met by Admiral
Ilawkc, and defeated with great loss, between Belleisle
and Cape Quiberon.

In order to compensate for these losses, the French
government resolved to open the campaign of 1760 in Eu-
rope with immense force ; and as the nobility and gentry
seconded the exertions of the government, it was enabled
to augment the army in Westphalia, under IMarshal Bro-
glio, to 100,000. The allied army under Prince Ferdinand,
though less numerous, was belter appointed. Nothing of
importance occurred between them till the 31st of July,
when the French were defeated at the battle of Warburg,
and obliged to retreat, with the loss of 3000 men. In con-
sequence of this victory, Prince Ferdinand was enabled to
protect Hanover ; but the dominions of the Landgrave of
Hesse were still exposed to the French. Soon afterwards
both armic-. went into winter quarters. In the East Indies
the French were stripped of nearly all their possessions
this year.

The death of George II. led the French government to
hope that his successor might be disposed to relax in his
efforts to support the ccntiHcntal war ; but as soon as they
were convinced, from the liberal supplies voted by the
British parliament for the support of the German confe-
deracy, that their expectations were ill founded, they, in
conjunction with the court of Vienna, proposed terms of
peace. A congress was accordingly appointed to be held
at Augsburg for the continental powers ; while the sepa-
rate discussions between Britain and France were to take
place at Paris and London. Notwithstanding these nego-
ciations, hostilities were still carried on; and with respect
to the particular dispute between France and England, it
was soon evident, that it was more likely to be extended
than adjusted, in consequence of the disposition which the
court of Madrid displayed to unite with France. The prin-
cipal scene of the French military operations was West-
phalia, where at first they were successful, obliging Prince
Ferdinand to retire behind the Dymel ; but that indefatiga-
ble general soon afterwards repulsed the united forces of
Broglio and Soubere, and thus was enabled to effect his
grand object, the protection of Hanover. Still, however,
the campaign was as indecisive, with regard to permanent

FRANCE.

333

or extensive advantage on cither side, as any of the foi-mtf
campaigns had been ; and it was evident, that sucli opera-
lions would exhaust the resources both of the French and
the allies. As the British ministry felt their peculiar
strength to consist in the command >vhich they now pos-
sessed of the sea, they planned another expedition against
the coast of France, which eflectcd the reduction of Bel-
Icisle. This, no doubt, was a great inf rtification to France,
but it did not induce her to weaken her Westphalian army;
and therefore, as a diversion in favour of Prince Ferdinand,
it totally failed, while it was impossible for the British to
retain their conquest. The negociations were now again
i-esumed ; but as the offers of cessions and exchanges made
by the court of Versailles did not meet the expectations of
the Biilish cabinet, they were finally broken ofl'. Tlie cause
of this failure was soon traced to the court of Madrid, be-
tween which and the couil of Versailles a family compact
had been some time before entered into. According to this
compact, the Kings of France and Spain were to have com-
mon enemies and friends ; so that war declared against
one was to be regarded as war declared against both ; and
consequently, on such an event happening, the whole mili-
tary forces of both were to act in the most perfect concert.
No peace was to be made except by mutual consent.
Spain, however, was not to succour France when she
might be involved in a war in consequence of her engage-
ments by the treaty of Westphalia, or her other alliances in
Germany or the north, unless some maritime power took
part in those wars, or France itself were attacked. Between
the accession of Spain to the cause of France in her war
with Britain, and the peace of Paris, no event of importance
occurred, except the reduction of the island of Wartinico
by a British armament.

In consequence of a change of the British ministry,
i'rance found that a peace was more practicable than for-
merly, while she herself, as well as Spain, were more sin-
cerely disposed towards it : negociations, therefore, were
carried on at Fonlainebleau, and on the third of November
17G2, the preliminaries were signed there. On the 16th
of February, in the following year, the definitive treaty was
signed at Paris. By this treaty France agreed to cede to
Britain, Canada, in its utmost extent, with the islands of
C;ape Breton and St John, and all that part of Louisiana
which lies on the side of the Mississijipi, except the town
and territory of New Orleans. The French were permit-
ted to fish, under certain limitations, on the banks of New-
foundland : the islands of Martinicjue, Guadaloupe, St Lu-
cie, Goree, and Belieisle, were restored to them ; and the
French East India Company were placed in the same situa-
tion in which they were at the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, by
the restitution of Pondicherry, kc. ; but they were not to
erect any forts in the Province of Bengal. France agreed
to cede to Great Britain the forts and factories she had lost
on the river Senegal, the island of Grenada and its depen-
dencies, and to give up all claim to the neutral islands of
St Vincent, Dominica, and Tobago ; she also consented
to de.-itroy the harbour and demolish the fortifications of
Dunkirk.

France had much need of repose ; for, not only were her
finances in a very dilapidated condition, but disputes be-
tween the King and the parliaments agitated the minds of
all : these disputes have been already noticed. And as the
parliaments felt their own power and importance, while
the King became sensible of the necessity of curbing them,
they every day became more serious. The parliament of
Paris refused to register several of the royal edicts ; and
the parliament of Brittany, determined to manifest that
they also were adverse to the King, refused the crown a
gift of 700,000 livres, in consequence of which they were

dissolved. But Louis, afraid of creating still greater dis-
turbances, published a general amnesty, and wished them
to resume their iunctions. The parliarnent, however, con-
vinced by this that the King was intimidated, and their cause
was popular, refused to accept his proflcred clemency.
Tl.t, indignation of the King was now extreme ; and he or-
dered such of the councillors of the i^arliament of Brittany
as had refused to resume their functioijs, to be included in
the list of those who were to be drafted for the rnilitia ; and
such as were drafted were actually oljliged to join their re-
giments, while the rest were incorporated in the city
guard. The severity of this conduct appeased the stub-
born spirits of the parliaments for soiTie time ; but the calm
was not of long duialion. In the midst of these convul-
sions, which extended to nearly all the parliaments in
France, the Dauphin died, in the 37th year of his age ; and
the Duke of Berri, his eldest son by his second marriage
with Maria Josepha of Saxony, was created Dauphin in his
stead.

As soon as Louis had in some measure quieted the par-
liament, he turned his attention to the acquisition of Corsica.
This island had for some time resisted the tyranny of Ge-
noa, which claimed the sovereignty by right of conquest :
At last the Republic, unable to support her pretensions,
transferred them to France, on condition that Louis should
put her in possession of the island of Capraria, which the
Corsicans had lately reduced. Louis thought that the sub-
jection of the Corsicans would be easily and speedily ef-
fected ; but he found himself much mistaken, as the Cor-
sicans defended themselves with great intrepidity ; and two
campaigns, with the loss of several thousand men, were
necessary to bring tlicm under the power of France.

The finances of the country were at this period, A. D.
1768, 1769, very inadecpiate for the support even of sucli
a trifling war as liiat in Corsica. The East India Compa-
ny were absolutely bankrupts ; numbers of the most re-
spectable merchants were exposed to every species of
failure and distress. Such a state of things required the
measures of a man of talents and experience ; whereas the
Duke of Choiseul, who was minister, was neither, and by
attempting to remedy, he actually inci eased the evil : he
reduced, at once, the interest of the jjublic funds one half;
and, as if this were not sufficient to injure public credit, he
took away the benefit of survivorship in the tontines. The
king at last was under the necessity of banishing him ; but,
instead of remedying the evils by the restoration of public
credit and confidence, and by calling in to his assistance
the advice and authority of the parliaments, Louis again
involved himself in disputes with them. As he had no
idea of carrying his measures cahnly, he resolved to banish
the parliament of Paris, which had given the tone to the
others; and, soon after this was done, several of the pro-
vincial parliaments were dissolved. It was necessary,
however, to appoint new parliaments; and though the peo-
ple did not view them with their accustomed respect, the
King received from them unlimited obedience.

In the midst of these disputes, which would scarcely be
worthy of notice did they not point out the causes of the
Revolution, the Dauphin was married to Maria Antoniette,
sister to the Emperor of Germany. At the splendid en-
tertainment and shows given on this occasion, a dreadful
accident happened : the crowd, hastening to be the spec-
tators of the fireworks, pressed on one another in such a
tumultuous manner, that several hundreds perished in the
confusion.

As soon as Louis had freed himself from the opposition
of his parliaments, he gave himself up completely to de-
bauchery ; but his health was not equal to the inroads made
upon it } and his satiated appetite required the ccnstant

134

FRANCE.

stimulus oi new beauty, and a succession of mistresses.
One of these, who was infected with the small-pox, com-
muiiicated the disorder to the kin^. The danger houily
increased ; and Louis, apprised of liis approaching dissolu-
tion, fondly hoped to atone lor his past debaucheries by his
present penitence : He received the sacrament ; and de-
clared his intention, if he should survive, of exerting; him-
self in the cause of religion, and for the benefit of liis sub-
jects ; but in eight days after the first attack,, he closed his
reign of 59 years, and a life of 65.

This monarch had nothing to recommend him to the
affection or gratitude of his people, though, at the begin-
ning of his reign, in llie moment of danger, the appellation
of 'wcll-bc!(jved had been conferred upon him. Tliirty
years of rapacity, profusion, and tyranny, as a monarch,
and of the most profligate debauchery in his private life,
had, however, induced the people to retract that appella-
tion. His example loosened the bands of morality ; the
credit and resources of the country had been nearly ex-
hausted by his prodigality; what remained of a free con-
stitution in France had been crushed, as far as he could
crush it, by his tyrannical measures. He does not seem
to have been capable of any generous feeling ; his affec-
tions were confined within the narrow limits of his per-
sonal pleasures and security; whoever could administer
the one, or accomplish the other, was with him a favourite ;
but as soon as they ceased to be useful in these respects,
they were neglected and forgotten. Even the Marchioness
of Pompadour, wlio had so long enjoyed his confidence
and shared his embraces, expired, without drawing a
single sigh of regret or affection from the breast of Louis,
though, during her life, he had obeyed and adored her;
and to the death of the Dauphin he was equally insensible.
Even his exertions against the parliaments would not have
been made, though his principles and feelings were suffi-
ciently arbitrary to have led him to have wished their
annihilation, had not his indolence been goaded on by the
stimulating representations of the Countess du Barri, that
while they existed he was in personal danger.

Louis XVL was twenty years of age, when, in the year
1774, he succeeded to his grandfather. One of his first
measures was, to remove those from office, who, by their
errors or misconduct, had become unpopular, and had con-
tributed to the distresses of the kingflom ; and to replace
them by men of talents and honesty. He likewise gave
great satisfaction, by suppressing the new, and recalling
the ancient parliament of Paris, though, at the same time,
he limited their privileges, and declared his intention not
to sul>mit to any power in them, which could possibly cir-
cumscribe his own. Scarcely were the members return-
ed, however, before they displayed their spirit and pre-
tensions ; but Louis, in answer to one of their representa-
tions, peremptorily declared that he must be obeyed.

The state of the finances was still such as to require
great care in their management, and in their restoration.
For this purpose, the celebrated Turgot was placed at
their head in the year 1775. His measures, in some re-
spects, were undoubtedly wise and salutary ; but, in other
respects, be seems to have suffered speculative opinions
too much to influence him. Even his wisest plan, that of
rendering the internal commerce of grain, as well as its
exportation, free and unrestricted, gave rise to serious dis-
turbances, in consequence of a scarcity of corn happening
at the very time of his regulations. The tranquillity of
the country, as well as of Paris, was so much disturbed,
that Louis found it absolutely necessary to have recourse
to very strong measures ; and the Marechausse, a military
body dependant on the police, were ordered to disperse
the multitude, and to execute summary justice on the

most guilty. After the suppression of these disorders,
Louis, in order to draw off the minds of his suljjects from
the unpleasant recollection of them, and of the h^rsh means
by which they had been quelled, resolved to celebrate his
coronation with great magnificence at Rheims; and, to
prove that the measures he had lately been compelled to
adopt were not the result of a cruel or tyrannical disposi-
tion, he issued an edict, which in future sentenced deser-
ters to work as slaves on the public roads, instead of punish-
ing them, as formerly, with death. He also suppressed
the mousquetaires, and reduced part of the regular army.
I5y the foiiner measure, he relieved the citizens of Paris
fiom an impetuous and overbearing body of men, the sup-
pression of whom no former sovereign had ventured to
effect ; and, by the latter measure, he gave gratifying testi-
mony to the nation at large, that he was resolved to intro-
iluce the strictest economy.

Still, however, the situation of the world rendered it
])rudent for Louis to direct his thoughts to the not impro-
l)able renewal of hostilities. Great Britain was at this time
involved in serious disputes with her colonies. France,
however disposed to remain at peace, on account of the
state of her finances, was too interested in the humiliatioti
of Britain, not to regard with satisfaction the progress of
a dispute, which might afford her a fair opportunity of
weakening her ancient rival. This would be best effected
by being able to meet that rival on her own element. The
navy of France was therefore an object of great interest;
and the appointment of Monsieur Sartine to the superin-
tendance of the marine, did honour to the penetration of
Louis. He was fruitful in his resources, and unwearied
in his application ; and in a sliort time, the losses of the
last war were nearly supplied.

But the finances were not so easily managed. Turgot,
not possessing the public confidence, had resigned, and
Neckar was soon afterwards placed at their head. In order
that he might carry into full and uncontrolled effect all
his plans, the entire management of the funds and revenue
of France was submitted to him, with the title of director-
general of the finances.

The interests of science next engaged the attention of
Louis and his ministers. Several vessels were fitted out
on astronomical discoveries. The Chevalier de Borda was
instructed to ascertain the exact position of the Canary
Islands and the Cape de Verd. and the different degrees
of the coast of Africa, from Cape Spartel to the island of
Goree. The Chevalier Grenier, who had traversed the
Indian ocean, for tlie purpose of improving the charts, and
correcting the errors which had misled former navigators,
was liberally rewarded.

In proportion as the success of the Americans increased
the probability that they would ultimately establish their
independence, the French cabinet, as well as the French
nobility, were desirous of uniting with them, and thus con-
tributing to the humiliation of Britain. But the former
concealed their wishes and their resolutions, and even
restrained the ardour of the latter, till a proper opportunity
offered itself of openly taking part with the Americans.
As soon as the measures of Great Britain had roused the
people of her colonies to the daring resolution of rising
against their mother country, Silas Deane and Dr Franklin
■were sent to Paris. Here they exerted secretly their in-
fluence with the leading men in the French cabinet ; and
though, in a public capacity, they were not admitted to
an audience, yet they received sufficient encouragement to
hope, that, before long, their country would be assisted
by the arms of France. In the mean time, the American
privateers were allowed to refit in the French ports, and
even to bring their prices into them. Warlike stores

FRINGE.

335

were sold or given to the colonists ; Frencli ofTiccrs and
engineers, with tlic connivance of govci-nmcnt, entered
into their service ; and the Mar<|uis dc la Faycllc, a young
nobleman of aflluent fortune and high birth, sailed for
America, where he was received with open arms, and ap-
pointed to a principal command. These circumstances
naturally excited the suspicions of the Uritish court; l)ut,
as nothing was done openly, they had no sulTicient ground
for remonstrating, till warlike preparations were carried
on in such an undisguised manner, and to such an extent,
as could leave no doubt that France was on the eve of
hostilities with some power. Upon this, the English am-
bassador at Paris closely questioned the Freneli minister,
wlio replied, that when the seas were covered with English
and American ships of war, and when large armies were
sent to the New World, it became prudent for France to
arm for the defence of her colonies, and the protection of
her commerce. The outward forms and the language of
neutrality, were, however, preserved, till the capture of
General Burgoyne and his army, when they were at once
dismissed from the French cabinet, and tire independence
of the United States of America was openly acknowledged.
Silas Deane and Dr Franklin were received as public am-
bassadors, and a treaty of amity and commerce was signed
in the month of February 1773. The recal of the English
ambassador from Paris was the signal for the commence-
ment of hostilities. The details of this war between
Britain and France having been already given in our
article Britain, we shall confine ourselves to the domestic
transactions of France.

Monsieur Ncckar still continued at the head of the
finances, and endeavoured to render the pressure of the
war as light as possible, by plans of economy and re-
trenchment ; a variety of unnecessary offices in the house-
hold of the King and Queen were abolished, and other im-
portant regulations adopted for the benefit of the kingdom.
At the same time, the diplomatic skill, experience, and
intrigues, of the different French ambassadors at the courts
of Europe, were successfully exercised in rousing them,
either directly or indirectly, to take advantage of the pre-
sent circumstances, and crush, or at least weaken, the
naval power of Britain. As a long and intimate connec-
tion had subsisted between the courts of Petersburgh and
London, the French ambassador at the former was instruc-
ted to conciliate the inclinations of the Empress ; and he
conducted himself with so much adroitness, as to be very
instrumental in persuading her to place herself at the head
of the Northern Confederacy. In answer to the declaration
•which she addressed to the courts of Madrid, Paris, and
London, on the subject of neutral rights, the King of
France declared, that what her Imperial Majesty claimed
from the belligerent powers exactly corresponded with the
rules prescribed to the French navy ; and as he was con-
vinced solid advantages would undoubtedly result, not only
to her subjects, but also to all nations, she might depend
that he would adhere to his usual practice, and comply
with her wishes. Towards the close of the year 1780,
Monsieur Sartine was removed from the marine depart-
ment, which he had superintended for five years. His
great and leading object had been, during the whole uf
this time, to place the French navy upon the most exten-
sive and efficient footing ; and he had succeeded in raising
her naval power to an unprecedented height; but his
measures for this purpose necessarily required the expen-
diture of very large sums of money, at a time when the
state of the finances loudly called for economy and re-
trenchment. Hence his measures and wishes were at
■variance with those of the comptroHer-^neral of the

finances ; and his removal was the consequence. He was
succeeded by tlie Mai'ijuis tie Castries.

The disposition of Louis, naturally humane, was most
honourably displayed this year, by the abolition of the
practice o( /lulling the (jue-ition by torture ; and his desire
to relieve )iis subjects as much as possible from the pres-
sure of the taxes, was evinced by the further diminution
of his own expenditure, and by his dismissing at once 406
officers belonging to liis court. In this adherence to a
system of economy so unusual in the sovereigns of France,
Louis was undoubtedly strengthened by the advice, and
perhaps the remonstrances, of Neckar. This minister
continued to be uncommonly active and faithful in the dis-
charge of the duties of his important and arduous situa-
tion ; but he was rather a man of detail than of general
principles or comprehensive mind ; and he did not alway:,
perceive the necessity or advantage of accommodating his
plans, in some degree, to the habits and prejudices of the
Frencli nation. He conceived the impracticable idea of
maintaining the war by loans, without additional taxes; not
reflecting that loans cannot be raised in any country, in
which there is not only a great superabundance of capital,
but also the most implicit confidence in the faith of govern-
ment. Unfortunately for his scheme, capital was far from
being abundant in France, and the measures of former
sovereigns, as well as the nature of the government, were
by no means calculated to inspire confidence. There
were besides other causes, which shook the popularity of
Neckar; his temper was austere and unaccommodating;
the reforms and retrenchments which he had introducecl
into the various departments of the royal household, were
represented as derogatory to the dignity and splendour of
the crown ; and his foreign birth and mercantile education
and habits, increased the jealousy and dislike created by
his temper and plans of economy. The King for some
time endeavoured to oppose his favour and countenance to
the intrigues that were formed against him ; but at length,
towards the close of 1781, he was dismissed from his office
of comptroller-general, and Monsieur dc Joli Fieury suc-
ceeded him. The people at large beheld this change with
regret, which was by no means diminished when the new
comptroller-general reverted to the old plan of raising
taxes. It was, however, soon ascertained, that the bur-
dens of the nation could not be much more augmented ;
and the ministry, in order to multiply the resources of
government, without pushing taxation to a dangerous ex-
tent, endeavoured to kindle in Paris, and throughout the
provinces, such a degree of enthusiasm as would produce
voluntary contributions towards carrying on the war. Their
efforts were seconded by the consternation and feeling of
humiliated pride, which the defeat of Count de Grasse
produced througliout the kingdom ; and several states dis-
played their zeal in building and fitting out ships of war,
to repair the loss which had been occasioned by this de-
feat. The clei'gy also came forward at this time, with a
free gift of 15,000,000 of livres towards the exigencies of
the state ; and they also offered another million to be ap-
plied to the support of wounded seamen, and of the widows
and oiphans of those who iiad been killed in the various
naval engagements.

About this period, the attention of the French ministry
was directed to the commotions that agitated the republic
of Geneva. These coinmolions arose from the magistrates
and senate having increased their own authority, and di-
minished the privileges of the people : the latter were still
farther irritated by the additional taxes which were impos-
ed upon them ; and, at length, their leaders insisted on hav-
ing a regular code of laws, v/bicli might prescribe the an-

33G

FRANCE.

thority of the rulcts, unci sanctiuii tlic lijjl'.ts of the people.
Tlie aristocracy objected to tliis; and in their own support
called for tiie interference of foreit^n powers. The Kinij
of France, as protettur of the republic, concerted, with the
King of Sardinia, and the cantons of Znrich and Berne,
such nicasiircs as they thought would restore trunquillily
to it; and in order to give weight to these measures, an
army of 12,000 men was encamjied luuler the walls of the
city. Thus protected, the magistrates gained a complete
ascendency over the people; but tliey afterwards, during
the French Ucvolution, had too good reason to repent hav-
ing called in the interference of France, thus virtually ac-
knowledging a dependence on that power, which was not
forgotten.

Altliough the preparations for war in 1783 were very
great, yet Louis was disposed for peace, and therefore ac-
cepted the mediation of the Emperor of Germany and the
Empress of Russia. This mediation was successful, and
a treaty of peace with Great Britain was concluded on the
20th of January- By this treaty, France acquired an addi-
tional extent of fishery off Newfoundland. In the West
Indies, she regained St Lucie and Tobago, but relinquish-
ed Grenada, St Vincent's, Dominica, St Christopher's,
Nevis, and Montserrat. In .Mrica, she acquired the full
sovereignty of the forts on the Senegal, and regained Go-
rec; while she guaranteed to Britain, Fort St James's, and
the river Gambia. In the East Indies, all that she had lost
was restored, and some additions were made to her former
possessions. But the most gratifying article of this treaty
to the national glory of France, was, that the fortifications
of Dunkirk were no longer to be forbidden, — the stipula-
tions exacted from Louis XIV. and XV. respecting them
being formally abolished by the peace of Paris.

The joy created in France by the termination of a war,
in which she had been so eminently successful in weaken-
ing Great Britain, v/as not of long duration. The state of
her finances grew daily worse. Three different succes-
sors of Monsieur Neckar had in vain attempted to remedy
or palliate the evil ; public credit, as well as the public re-
sources, were too nearly exhausted to be revived. Govern-
ment refused, or delayed, the payment of the bills drawn
upon them by their army in America ; and nearly at the
same time the Caisse d'Escompie stopt payment. This
last circumstance created general and excessive alarm.
Their notes having been hitherto always convertible into
specie at the option of the holders, had circulated very
%vidcly ; and as they were not out to individuals at this pe-
jiod to a larger amount than usual, or than their known
capital authorised, the suspicion was created that tliey had,
to the prejudice of the holders of their notes, and contrary
to their own interest, as well as that of the public at large,
accommodated government with the specie, which ought
to have been exclusively devoted to the payment of their
notes. It now became absolutely necessary for govern-
ment to interfere, in order, by supporting this bank, to re-
store the confidence of the public in it. Four edicts, there-
fore, were issued with this View : by these, the banks of
Paris were ordered to receive the notes of the Caisse d'Es-
compie as currency; and a lottery, with a stock of one
million sterling, was established, redeemable in eight years,
the tickets for which might be purchased in the deprecia-
ted notes. At the same time, government having procur-
ed money, paid their American bills. Public credit was
thus restored ; and the stock of the Caisse d'Escompl6 rose
considerably above its original subscription.

The comparison between the measures adopted in Eng-
land, when its national bank declared their inability to pay
in cash, and those adopted in France on the present occa-

sion, cannot fail to strike tlic reader. In the former coun-
try, all that was absolutely necessary for the support of the
bank was accomplished by individuals; in the latter, it was
the exclusive work of the government. In the former
country, a temporary alarm had shaken public credit ; but
the wealth and real confidence of the nation remaining the
same, as soon as that alarm subsided, public credit was
again placed on as solid a foundation as before : whereas,
in France, the shock given to public credit arose from per-
manent causes, and the measures adopted only palliated, or
put off tlie evil.

The state of the finances of France, thus artificially kept
from falling into utter ruin, absolutely required the mosl
rigid and systematic economy : indeed, no other meana
could restore them even to temporary strength ; and yet,
not only were the forces not reduced, but all the deficien-
cies in the different regiments were made good. At this
period, there could exist no alarm or probability of renew-
ed hostilities, though, shortly afterwards, the disputes be-
tween the Emperor and the United Provinces, respecting
the barriers and strong towns in the Netherlands, excited
the attention and jealousy of France. Before the late war,
a French faction had scarcely existed, or, at least, had not
been powerful in Holland ; but that event, by detaching
Great Britain from the United Provinces, had opened up
an opportunity for such a faction to establish itself at the
head. This faction consisted of the hereditary enemies of
the Orange family ; so that in Holland, as in America, the
despotic government of France united itself with republi-
cans. As soon as the Emperor extended his pretensions
to the navigation of the Scheldt, the Dutch implored the
mediation of the King of France, their late hostility with
Britain having deprived them of any claim for protection
or mediation from that power. At this time, there were
two parties at the court of Versailles, at the head of which
were the Count de Vergennes and the Marshal de Castries;
the former, the favourite of Louis, was, like him, mild, hu-
mane, and a strong friend to peace ; the latter, supported
by the Queen, was, like her, bold, intriguing, and enter-
prising, and the strong advocate for war. As the media-
tion of France had no influence with the Emperor, and the
Dutch saw themselves threatened with hostilities, in con-
sequence of having opposed his designs on the Scheldt,
they applied to Louis for a general to head their armies ;
and the Count de Maillobois was sent to them. Count de
Vergennes, hitherto, had opposed any hostile or violent
measures ; but, at this juncture, in consequence of the en-
croaching aggressions of the Emperor, he expostulated
with the court of Vienna in more free and direct language.
At the same time, the armies of France moved by degrees
to the borders of Alsace, Lorraine, and the Low Countries ;
and orders were given to form a camp at Lans of 80,000
men. The Queen of France, though ambitious and war-
like, by no means approved of these indications of hostile
measures against her brother the Emperor; and therefore
endeavoured to bring back the mind of the Count de Ver-
gennes to its habitual feeling of moderation and love of
peace; but the Count, though sensible of the state of the
finances of France, and therefore desirous, if possible, of
averting hostilities, could not brook the idea, that the hon-
our or interests of his country should be sacrificed ; and,
on the morning when a grand council was to be held, the
result of which was to be conclusive with regard to the
part France should take, and the Queen desired he would
not on that day forget that the Emperor was her brother,
he replied, that he certainly would not forget, but he must
also remenibci' that the King of France was her husband,
and the Dauphin her son. Soon afterwards, the Emperor

FKAZ^CK.

i37

acCommotlatccI his diircircnccs with Holland, through tlie
mcdiulion of" l''i'anor, and thus the niililary preparations of
the latter were rendered minecessary.

The innuence of France at the Hague, was thus consi-
derably strengthened ; anfl the Count de Vergeiines did
not fail to make use of it for the advantages of his country,
by forming a new treaty of alliance. 15y this treaty, in case
Ilolland was engaged in war, France was to furnish her
with 10,000 infantry, 2000 cavalry, 12 ships of the line, and
six frigates; and, in the event of a maritime war, or, in
Other words, in case England and France should recom-
mence hostilities, the United Provinces engaged themselves
to furnish six ships of the line, and three frigates. U
F'rance were attacked by land, they were either to furnish
5000 infantry and 1000 cavalry, or a proportionate sum of
money.

The internal-condition of France was every day becom-
ing more alarming. Monsieur de Calonne was now at the
head of her finances. He had already displayed address
and talents in the measures that he suggested for the re-
establishment of the Ca-isse d'Escompte. He also esta-
blished the Caisse D'Amortissemcnt, or sinking fund, the
plan of which was recommended by its simplicity. Ac-
cording to it, government were to pay annually into the
hands of commissioners, the entire interest of the national
debt, together with an additional sum of 120,000/. sterling.
By this, it was estimated that annuities to the amount of
50,000/. would be annually extinguished ; and in that pro-
portion the sum set apart for the liquidation of the national
debt would be increased. In order to secure, as it was ex-
pected, the regular application of this sum, the annual re-
ceipt of the Caisse D'Amortissemcnt was declared incapa-
ble of being diverted to any other object. But it is mani-
fest, that, in a countiy where the regular expences of the
state were far above its income, it would be impossible to
raise the additional annual sum requisite for the establish-
ment and opei'ation of a sinking fund. The object of the
financiers of F'rance ought to have been exclusively to re-
lieve the existing difficulties, and not by any means to have
extended their views and plans to a remote generation.
There were besides other causes operating against the suc-
cess of any plans of finance, which will unfold themselves
as we proceed in the history. As the manners and the ta-
lents of Calonne were more insinuating and popular than
those of Neckar, while he was also more accommodating
to the necessities or the wishes of the court, he was tiieir
favourite ; but with the nation at large, he was not so great
a favourite as Neckar had been. He continued, hovfever,
to support himself without being exposed to any consider-
able degree of odium, till the year 1785, when, by the es-
tablishment of a new East India Company, he excited vio-
lent censure. The objections urged against this monopoly
were brought forward in a style of boldness and freedom,
hitherto unusual in France ; and, from the substance as
well as the manner of them, it was evident that those phi-
losophers who had hitherto confined their speculations on
government and political economy to books, were extreme-
ly desirous of reducing them to practice. Monsieur de
Calonne was by no means in a condition to regard the dis-
cussions which this subject gave rise to with indifference;
as they plainly indicated, that a body of '.nen who at this
time had great iniluence in France, were decidedly hostile
to the measures of his administration. He likewise was
convinced, that the re-establishment of the financ&s was a
much more arduous task than he had anticipated ; for
though France had now been at peace for three years, it
was found requisite at the end of each year to supply the
deficiency of the revenue by a loan. Still, however, had
the rigid economy recommended and pursued by Neckar
Vol. IX. Part I.

been persevered in, the fxprndlune and the inr.omr, might
have been jjiought more nearly on a level ; but large sums
were laid out on the fortifications of C^herbourp- ; and the;
Marquis de Castries, as minister of the marine, had been
profuse in his expenditure. Tiicse sums might have been
saved, as there was no absolute and pressing ncccssily ei-
ther to extend the fortifications of Cherbourg, or to increase
the navy. The money re(|uired during the dispute between
the Emperor and the Dutch, for the purpose of placing the
F'rench army on a respectable and etficient footing, was
more properly laid out.

As the internal resources of I-" ranee were the only means
by which the revenue could be augmented, it became the
paramount duty of the ministry to nourish them with the
greatest care and attention. That they did not perform this
duty in a conscientious and wise manner, was loudly and
generally urged against them, in consequence of the com-
mercial treaty between Great Britain and France in the
year 1785. On this subject, strong and unfounded prejudice
bore down calm and clear investigation; but, in some re-
spects, it must be admitted, that tiie framers of the treaty did
not sufficiently advert to the protection which the weak and
infant manufactures of France required, in order to enable
them to rise to an equality with those in England, or, at least,
to meet the English manufactures in the markets of France.

The popular mind was now in such a state of discontent
and irritation, Uiat the smallest evil made it break out into
bitter complaints against government. It may therefore
well be conceived, that the edict at the end of the year
1785, for registering a loan of the enormous amount of
3,333,000/. sterling, produced violent murmurs. When
this edict was presented to the parliament of Paris, they
selected a deputation to wait on the King with their remon-
strances ; but he informed them, that he expected to be in-
stantly and implicitly obeyed ; and the ceremony of regis-
tering took place the next day, accompanied, however,
with a resolution, that public economy was the only genuine
source of abundant revenue, and that, without it, the neces-
sities of the state could not be supplied, nor public credit
and confidence restored. This firmness was highly dis-
j)leasing to the King; he ordered the records of the ])ar-
liament to be brought to him, and erased the resolution with
his own hand ; at the same time declaring, that he expected
in future they would communicate, in a loyal and respect-
ful manner, whatever they deemed advantageous to the
nation. As the parliament were at variance with Calonne,
the King embraced tliis opportunity of supporting the mea-
sures of that minister, which were not to be defeated by
their violence or groundless apprehensions. In order more
strongly to mark the royal displeasure, one of the members,
who had been most active in passing the resolution, was
dismissed.

Calonne at this period seems to have been first convinc-
ed of the necessity of assembling the Notables. It is i)ro-
bable, that he expected from them a more ready acquiesc-
ence in his views and plans than he had met with from the
parliament of Paris ; and as these views and plans now
went far beyond the measures he had at first proposed and
adopted, it was proper they should be sanctioned by a bo-
dy more numerous, as well as more respectable, than the
parliament. He was convinced that the state of the king-
dom was such, both with respect to its finances and re-
sources, and with respect to the general feeling of the na-
cessity of some political reform, that farther delay would
be dangerous; and he hoped that the assembling of the
Notables would remedy the existing evils in the most safe
and legitimate Aiode. He had, indeed, the op'ion of as-
sembling either the States-general or the Not.ibles. The
I'ornier isad not been cali^id loirtlher since the year 1614 ;

U u

338

FRANCE.

They consisted of deputies chosen by the three estates, the
nobilii/i clergy, and people iit large. To tliis assembly
Calonne had strong objcclions : Ii> the firbl place, the elec-
tion of the deputies, in the agitated slate ol" tlie country,
could not fail to increase the commotion, and to let the
people feel too sensibly their own weislii and indueiice ;
in the second place, the deliberations of such an assembly
Avould necessarily be tedious, and, consequently, the dis-
tracted state of the country would be prolonged. But the
circumstance which weighed witli the minister most pow-
erfully against calling out the Stales-geneial, was the ap-
prehension that they would be disposed 'o carry the reform
jnu ;r. farther than he wished ; and the impossiL)ilily of
foreseeiiig what would be the consequence of putting power
into their hands. The Notables, therefore, an assembly
■which liad been occasionally substituted in the room of the
States-general, was preferred by Calonne. It consisted of
a Lumber of persons from all parts of the kingdom, chiefly
selected from tne higher orders of the stale by the King
himself. This mode of selection would render the delega-
tion of power to ihem perfectly safe, it was expected;
while their deliberations would be shorter, and more easily
managed by royal influence. Tlie writs for calling toge-
ther this assembly were accordingly issued on the 29th of
December 1786 : they were addressed to seven princes of
the blood, nine dukes and peers of France, eight field mar-
shals, twenty-two nobles, eight councillors of state, four
jnasters of requests, eleven archbishops and bishops, thir-
ty-seven heads of the law, twelve deputies of the fiays
d'etals, the lieutenants-civil, and twenty-five magistrates of
the different towns in France. The total number was 144;
and the opening of the assembly was fixed for the 29th of
January 1787.

It ought to have been the leading object of the minister,
to have laid before this assembly his plans as soon as pos-
sible, and immediately after their sanction of them to have
dismissed them. This, at any period, would have been
the wisest method ; but it was more particularly required
at a time when Paris was filled with discussions on points
that went far beyond the mere re-establishment of the
finances, or the reform of acknowledged and gross abuses.
When the day of meeting came, however, the minister was
not prepared ; it was therefore put off till the 7th of Februa-
ry ; but, before this day arrived, Calonne fell sick, and the
Count de Vergennes died. The loss of this statesman was
severely felt by his colleague, as he had entered fully and
warmly into all his plans, whereas the keeper of the seals
was his avowed enemy, and the minister of the marine de-
partment was personly attached to Neckar. The secreta-
ry for the household was the creature of the Queen, and,
consequently, attached to what was called the Austrian
system.

At length, on the 22d of February, the first meeting of
tlie assembly of the Notables took place. Calonne laid be-
fore it his plan for re-establishing the finances and the pub-
lic credit of the kingdom, which he prefaced, by pointing
out the necessity of adopting it, or some other. He stated,
that when he was appointed to the office of comptroller-
general of the finances, the deficiency of the public revenue
amounted to 3,330,000/. sterling. This, it was evident,
must be made up, as well as prevented in future, if the
finances of the country were to be restored to a proper
state : For this purpose he proposed, that a territorial im-
post, from which no class or order of men should be ex-
empted, should be sanctioned by the assembly ; that the
clergy, hitherto not considered liable to pay taxes, should
contribute in a fair proportion to the exigencies of the
state ; that the management and receipt of the taxes alrea-
dy existing, should be the subject of minute, impartial, and

strict investigation ; and that, if tliesc measures were not
adequate to the cure of the evil, the demesne lands of the
crown should be mortgaged.

If the minister expected that his statement and his plans
would he implicitly received by the assembly, or tliat they
would at the most, only give rise to sucli a kind of discus-
sion as would preserve the appearance of independent au-
thority in its members, while it did not essentially oppos6
the minister, he was most grievously mistaken. He had
represented the resources of France as very contracted,
and her debt as large ; and on these grounds lie had called
upon the assembly to sanction his plans : But before Nec-
kar had retired from the management of the finances, he
had published a work, in which he represented France as
possessing a surplus revenue of 425,000/. It was not to be
expected, that the gloomy statements of Calonne would
not be contrasted with the cheering statements of his pre-
decessor. Before, therefore, the members of the assembly
proceeded to discuss the plan itself, they insisted, that there
was no necessity for its adoption ; and that, if the ministers
were honest and able, France might easily, without any sa-
crifice or additional burden, be extricated out of her pre-
sent difficulties. These attacks on the ability and honesty
of Calonne, were supported principally by the Archbishop
of Toulouse and the Count de Mirabeau ; the latter a man
of brilliant talents, of the most profligate principles and
conduct, and who was resolved that his country should, if
he could possibly effect it, be plunged into such a state of
anarchy, as would give room for the exercise of his talents,
and the unrestrained play of his most vicious and danger-
ous habits.

The minister soon found that his plan met the approba-
tion neither of the nobility and clergy, nor of the people at
large. The ancient nobility and clergy had hitherto been
free from taxes ; and, as patents of nobility were easily
procured, they were eagerly sought after, for the purpose of
exempting the possessors from taxation. The nobles, there-
fore, both old and new, were strongly averse to a plan,
which should oblige them to contribute to the exigencies
of the state ; and they were supported in their opposition
by the clergy and the magistrates, who also were exempt
from taxation. It might, however, have been expected,
that the mass of the people would have regarded Calonne
as their friend ; since, if his plan were carried into effect,
they would be relieved from part of their burden. But at
this period the people had no means of making their feel-
ings or wishes known ; and besides, the measures of the
minister, in other respects, had not been such as to com-
mand or deserve popular favour and support. He was
therefore assailed, unprotected, by the nobility, clergy, and
magistrates, who were so blinded by an imperfect and
selfish consideration of their own immediate interest, as to
refuse to restore public confidence and tranquillity by a
trifling sacrifice. In the month of April, Calonne finding
it impossible to maintain his ground, resigned his ofHce,
and retired to England.

In the year 1787, the disputes in the United Provinces,
between the republican party and the Prince of Orange,
again opened an opportunity for the cabinet of Versailles
to strengthen its interest in Holland ; and had not the King
of Prussia taken a decided part in support of the Prince of
Orange, it is probable that the republicans, aided by the
French, would have borne down all opposition. The cabi-
net of Versailles, however, did not deem it prudent to as-
sist them in an open manner, though they permitted their
officers to go into Holland, and even sent tried and expe-
rienced soldiers for the purpose of disciplining the burghers
and volunteers. Great Britain also, forgetting the conduct
of the United Provinces during the American war, or ra-

FRANCE.

339

t'lier, perhaps, asciibing lliul luiiduci to the inllucncc of
that party which was now endeavouring to destroy the au-
thority of the Stadlliokler, fitted out a squadron of men of
war, for the purpose of countenancing and supporting the
measures of tlie King of Prussia. Upon tliis, the French
ministry also began to ecjuip sixteen sail of the line at
Brest, and recalled a small fleet of men of war which were
cruizing oft' Portugal. It was very evident, that a mutual
jealousy between the courts of Versailles and St James's
had no small influence in giving rise to these hostile indica-
tions ; but as soon as the power of the Stadtholder was re-
established, and, of course, all pretexts for armaments ta-
ken away both froin Britain and I'rance, each cabinet was
anxious to replace things on their former footing. Biitain
had begun to feel the beneficial consequences of Mr Pitt's
measures of finance, and of her reviving commerce ; and
France felt too sensibly her inabilty to plunge herself into
a new war, if it could possibly be avoided. The navies of
both nations, therefore, were placed on the footing of a
peace establishment, and harmony was restored between
them.

From these momentary and comparatively trifling sub-
jects of uneasiness, the mind of Louis unwillingly reverted
to the assembly of the Notables. It was already too evi-
dent, that they would not assist in extricating the king out
of his difficulties, unless they were recompensed for their
interference and assistance, by a compliance with their de-
mands ; and it was equally evident, that their demands
would go far to reduce the royal authority to that limited
condition in which it had been before the reign of Louis
XI. Louis, however, had gone too far to recede ; and even
if he could have receded, and dismissed the Notables, how
was he to recruit the finances of the kingdom ? It was
therefore necessary to gain the good will, or at least to
avoid, as much as possible, exciting the discontent and sus-
picion of the assembly ; and, for this purpose, the Arch-
bishop of Toulouse was appointed to superintend the
finances, instead of Calonne. But he soon found that it was
more easy to object to the schemes which his predecessor
had presented, than to offer any thing more satisfactory ;
and he was under the necessity of again proposing the ter-
ritorial impost. The objections and oppositions to it were
now more violent than before, as the assembly plainly per-
ceived that the kingdom was in such a state, as to have
placed the sovereign completely in their power. Louis
was thus placed in a state of great embarrassment ; Ijut, at
length, he determined to dissolve an assembly from which
he had received no support or advantage, but which, on the
contrary, had only increased the difficulties in which he
was previously involved. On the dismissal of the assembly,
royal edicts were issued for raising money ; to these the
parliament of Paris objected, in such peremptory language,
that Louis was under the necessity of holding what is term-
ed a Bed of Justice, and compelling them to enrol the
edicts. In former times, the parliament would most pro-
bably have submitted after this step ; but now they were
emboldened by the sense of their own power, and the une-
quivocal symptoms of disaffection, which had spread over
the whole kingdom, to protest against the enrolment as a
compulsory measure ; and to declare, that the first person
who should attempt to carry the edict into execution
should be punished as a traitor to his country. At this
crisis, the King acted with unusual decision and vigour.
As soon as the discontents and opposition of the Notables
began to wear a formidable aspect, large bodies of troops
had been gradually brought into Paris ; and some of these,
a few days after the Parliament had entered their protest,
signified to each individual member the King's pleasure,
that he should immediately leave Paris, and proceed to

Troyes. The Parliament, probably fbrewarnetl, or appre-
hensive of this measure, had previously registered their
opinion, that no permanent lax could legally be imposed,
except by the authority of the three estates of the king-
dom; and had, at the same time, urged the necessity of
calling them together.

For a short period, Louis endeavoured to proceed with-
out the Parliament, but he found it impossible. He was
frugal and economical in his habits and expenditure ; but
the savings thus efl'ected went but a little way towards the
removal of financial difficulties, while they failed in gaining
him the confidence or approbation of his subjects. He
himself, indeed, was not very unpopular ; but the other
branches of the royal family, particularly the Queen, and
the Count D'Artois, were the objects of the indignation of
the Parisians. They could not but be sensible of the dan-
ger in which they, as well as the King, were placed ; yet
they acted in such a manner as to increase that danger.
The titue for haughty manners and tyrannical conduct was
gone bye ; yet the Count D'Artois did not accommodate
himself to the change of circumstances, but spoke and
acted as if the sentiments and feelings of the people, and
the influence and authority of the crown, remained exactly
the same as they had been when Louis XVI. ascended the
throne. The King at last yielded, and recalled the Parliar
ment: a kind of compromise took place between them ;
Louis gave up the territorial impost and the stamp duty,
and the Parliament sanctioned the appointment of the Arch-
bishop of Toulouse to the situation of first minister of
state. These concessions on the part of Louis, however,
failed in conciliating the people ; being regarded either as
the effects of apprehension, and of conscious weakness, or
as the giving up of unjust claims. The King also soon
found, that the Parliament itself regarded their recal as a
triumph, and that they returned still less disposed to sub-
mission and obedience; for, about the middle of Novem-
ber, after he had laid before them two edicts, one for a
new loan of nearly 19 millions sterling, and the other for
the re-establishment of the Protestants in their civil rights,
introducing these edicts by a speech, in which he intimat-
ed his expectation of obedience from the Parliament, a bold
and animated debate took place, which was so offensive to
the King, that he suddenly arose, and commanded the edict
to be instantly registered. Scarcely had Louis sat down
again, when the Duke of Orleans, first prince of the blood,
declared this command of the King to be an infringement
of the rights of Parliament ; and, on this ground entered
his protest against all the proceedings, as illegal and void.
Louis merely repeated his commands, and left the assem-
bly. On his departure, the protest of the Duke was for-
mally sanctioned by the Parliament.

Louis was now more embarrassed than ever ; and his
frame and powers of mind, as well as his habits, were by
no means equal to prompt and vigorous decision, or to per-
severing and consistent conduct; nor does he seem to have
been fully aware of the bad consequences which would re-
sult from the display and exercise of a stretch of authority,
which interest or prudence might induce him soon to relax.
His first action, after leaving the Assembly, was one of
vigour and boldness. The Duke of Orleans was banished
to one of his seats ; lettres de cachet were issued against
two of the members of the parliament, who had been most
violent in the debate. To the remonstrances of the parlia-
ment against those proceedings, Louis at first replied in
authoritative language ; but about the beginning of 1788,
he yielded, and the Duke of Orleans was recalled, and the
two members liberated.

Hitherto the parliament of Paris had confined its efforts
to opposing the measures of the King ; or, when they did
U u3

340

FRANCE.

advert to the establishment of civil and political liberty in
France, it was only in tjencral tci-nis; but they now di-
rected tlieii invectives ai,'ainst Utlrcs de car/icl,wW\ch had
the previovis year been remonstrated against by the par-
liament of (Grenoble. Tlicse invectives again excited the
severity of Louis ; the parliament was surrounded by
troops, and the obnoxious members seized. Their lan-
guage on this occasion was even more bold that it had
ever been before; as they did not hesitate to tell the King,
thnl his authority could only be esteemed and supported
so long as it was founded on justice. Compared with this
opposition to the royal will, tlie measures of the Notables
had been mild and respectful; and Louis therefore resolv-
ed to assemble them again. As soon as they met, the keeper
of the seals explained his Majesty's pleasure, that a cour
pleniere siiouid be established; this proposition was favour-
ably received by tlie Notables, but the parliament of Pa-
ris protested against it. This opposition, in connection
^vith some serious disturbances that took place in the ca-
pital, at length induced Louis to recal Neckar to the ad-
ministration.

This minister soon perceived that the royal authority
was very considerably weakened since he was in power be-
fore, and tliat he had only the choice of difficult, and even
hazardous expedients. But decision was absolutely ne-
cessary: and as it was of the utmost importance for the
King to regain the confidence and loyalty of his subjects,
the minister strongly recommended that the States-General
should be assembled. From the opposition which the par-
liament of Paris made to this measure, he augured that it
■would at least serve to diminish their influence.

The principal difficulty respecting the States-General,
arose from the opposition of the nobility and clergy to the
representatives of the Commons being equal in number to
the other two orders united. The Count D'Artois headed
the party, which contended that the represeittatives of the
Commons ought to be confined to a tliird in number of the
Slates-Geijeral. The opinion of the Duke of Orleans was
supported by Neckar, and sanctioned by the King. The
number of deputies was fixed at upwards of 1000, and the
representatives of the Commons were to be returned ac-
cording to the population of the ditTerent districts of the
kingdom.

On the 5th of IMay, 1789, the assembly of the States-
General was opened by the King at Versailles. His Ma-
jesty's speech was conciliating and prudent ; he did not
affect to conceal the discontents of the pepplc, while he
expressed his firm conviction that the causes of these dis-
contents, so far as they were real and just, would be re-
moved by the wisdom and patriotism of the Assembly.
lie no longer used the language of a sovereign, who ex-
pected implicit obedience to his will ; on the contrary, he
expressly represented his power as that of a just king, in
the midst of a people faithful and ever devoted to the prin-
ciples of the monarchy. The speech of Neckar was by no
means calculated to strengthen the good effects of the
speech of the King ; as he represented the assembling of
tlie States-General, not as a constitutional right, but as the
effect of royal compliance. He tlius excited the suspicion
and ill will of the third estate, while he did not conciliate
those who had all along regarded him as the enemy of the
privileges of the otlier branches of the Assembly.

A difficulty not unforeseen, arose in the very first meet-
ing ; for the nobility and clergy seemed resolved to decide
every (juestion by a majority of the orders taken separate-
ly, arid, as a preliminary step, retired to their respective
chambers to verify their votes. To this the commons
strongly objected: but as their objections were not attend-
ed to, they proceeded to business separately; the nobility

did the same ; the clergy, however, offered their media-
tion between tlic contending parties.

From these proceedings it was too evident that the As-
sembly was constituted in such a manner, as not to pro-
mise unanimity, and consequently that the object of its
meeting would not be fulfilled. The distresses of the
state, which, they were met to deliberate upon and re-
medy, could not be removed effectually and permanently,
until a more etjual and productive system of taxation were
estaljlished. Nor could the discontents of the people be
pacified, until the abuses against which they had lifted up
tlicir voice, had been put down ; and yet as the nobility and
clergy were principally concerned in both these objects,
it was desirable that they should manifest a conciliating
spirit. Between the period of its first meeting and the
beginning of June, several of the clergy, and a few of the
nobility had agreed to act along with the commons ; but as
the rest were refractory, the Abbe Sieyes, on the ISth of
that month, made a motion, the object of which was to de-
clare, that the commons, with such members of the nobi-
lity and clergy as had united with them, were the known
and acknowledged representatives of the nation. On the
following day this motion was carried ; and the appellation
of A'aticinal A«sfmbhj was given to the meeting.

Tlieir vciy first measures plainly indicated the spirit by
which they were actuated. All taxes were declared ille-
gal, because they had not received the consent of the na-
tion ; but so long as the National Assembly sat, they might
be levied ; the moment it was dissolved, the people were
no longer bound to pay them. The public debt was placed
under the protection of the honour and faith of the French
nation; and a committee was immediately appointed, to in-
quire into the causes and remedy of the dearth which then
afflicted the kingdom.

Thus did Louis find, that his authority was in a great
measure w rested from him by the Natiojial Assembly ; and
the great body of the nobility and clergy, by their refusal
to unite with the commons, likewise saw themselves shut
out frem power, and tlieir privileges invaded. It was not
to be expected that either would patiently submit. On the
2 1st of June, when the deputies of the National Assembly
attempted to enter their place of meeting, the door was shut
against them, under the pretext, that preparations were
making for the royal presence on the 23d. They imme-
diately retired to a neighbouring tennis court, where they
unanimously took an oath to consider themselves as inse-
parable, and to continue to meet wherever they possibly
could. On the following day, many more of the clergyjoined
them, and M. Bailly was declared president of the Nation-
al Assembly. On the 23d, the King met the three orders
in the grand saloon. He reprobated the proceedings of
the commons; and the keeper of the seals in his name de-
clared, that the distinction of the three orders was essen-
tial ; that the proceedings of the commons had been illegal ;
and that the saloon should be closed to the public in gene-
ral. A second and third declaration followed, in which the
subjects for deliberation, and the wishes of the King, were
pointed out. When his Majesty retired, he commanded
the three orders to separate. The nobility almost unani-
mouslv obeyed, and most of the clergy; but the commons
were firm, and before they adjourned, agreed to the motion
of Mirabeau, "that the person of every deputy should be
regarded as inviolable."

The crisis which now seemed fast appro?ching, was de-
layed for a short time by the King's desire of tranquillity.
This induced him to recommend the nobility and clergy
to join the commons; and the junction accordingly took
pla(;e on the 27th of June. Some of the members of these
orders, however, refused to obey the King; but as they

FRrVNCE.

341

ivevc not numci'ous, tliey could no longer hope to oppose
the commons.

It was not to be expected, that the citizens of Paris
should be indifferent in the midst of these commotions;
on the contraiy, all the points in dispute between the King
and the National Assembly were discussed by them with a
wonderful <Iegrce of boldness ; and symptoms began to
manifest themselves of a feeling decidedly hostile to the
established government. With a few, perhaps, this feel-
ing originated from a calm and dispassionate conviction,
that there were gross abuses in the state, which ought to
be removed, and which could be removed without endan-
gering the tranquillity of the nation, or altering the funda-
mental constitution of the kingdom ; but with the groat
majority of tlie citizens of Paris, this feeling arose from
an undefined and vague desire of change, violent in its na-
ture, and uncertain in its means or object. Such being the
state of mind in the metropolis, and such the conduct of the
National Assembly, it was too evident, that unless the
councils of the king were directed with a most uncommon
share of moderation and firmness united, they could not
extricate him from the impending danger. IJut no such
qualities existed in his councils; he himself indeed was
mild and conciliating ,- but as such his conduct was only the
more calculated to do harm, since those measures which he
himself approved and adopted were done away, probably
the next day, by the unbending harshness of his advisers.
These influenced him so far, as to gain his sanction to the
assembling large bodies of troops in the capital and its vi-
cinity. The consequences were such as might have been
anticipated. These troops were not sufficiently strong to
keep down the citizens, while they were exposed to be in-
sulted by them ; commotions took place ; and during the
irritated state of the public mind, Monsieur Neckar was
dismissed from his situation. This was the signal for in-
surrection in Paris ; and the King again yielded, declaring
that the troops should be withdrawn, and that the citizens
should be permitted to form themselves into military bo-
dies. But this concession was too late ; the regular troops
and the citizens had already fought ; blood had been shed ;
and the French guards had, in this rencontre, joined the
people. The bastile was the first object of the popular
hatred and fury ; in a short time, not a single stone re-
mained; the governor, who had opposed the people, was
dragged to a place of execution, and his head, severed from
his body, was carried in triumph through the streets.

The King now perceived that his sole reliance must be
on the army, since it was absolutely necessary to restore
order and obedience before he could go on with his plans
of reformation ; but the army, which had always been cha-
lacterised by tlieir extreme devotion to the Monarch, open-
ly declared that they would not fight against their fellow-
citizens. No alternative therefore remained for the King,
but concession. Neckar was recalled ; the King himself
returned from Versailles to Paris ; and was obliged to sub-
mit to the speech of M.Bailly,(vvhohadbeen chosen mayor,)
on delivering the keys of the capital, in which he plainly told
him, that the people had that day reconquered their king.

Louis had already signified his approbation of the plan
of forming a national militia ; or in other words, an armed
body, who would obey not him, but the National Assem-
bly ; it had been accordingly formed, and the Marquis de
la Fayette, whom we have alieady mentioned as having
gone to fight in the cause of American independence, was
appointed colonel: this appointment Louis deemed it pru-
dent to sanction. At this period the more obnoxious mem-
bers of the royal family, as well as several of the nobility,
determined to leave France ; tliis they were induced to do,
not merely from regard to their own safety, but because

they hoped to iiiilucncc foreign jjowcrs to stipport the roy-
al cause. Among these emigrants, the most celebrated
were the Count D'Artois, the Prince of Condfc, and the
Marshal Bio.^lio.

The King still pursued his plan of concession and con-
ciliation ; corn was brought into the capital, in order to re-
duce its price thei'e ; and corporal punishment was abolish-
ed in the army. By these measures the tranquillity of Pa-
ris was preserved for a short time ; but the provinces were
in a state of complete anarchy; the peasantry rose, and de-
stroyed the churches and seats of the nobility with savage
fury; the more obnoxious of the nobles were seized and
exposed to the most barbarous and lingering deaths.

The return of Neckar was celebrated at Paris with so
much joy, that it was hoped his innucncc might restore
tranquillity and obedience ; but he soon found that circum-
stances were radically and fatally changed during his ab-
sence ; and his very first attempt to procure a general am-
nesty was defeated. Fresh commotions arose, and were
marked by additional excesses and cruelties. At St Denis,
Caen, and Strasburg, the conduct of the populace would
have disgraced the most barbarous periods of the most bar-
barous nations that ever existed ; it was no longer the re-
formation of abuses, even by violent means, that they aim-
ed at ; but the gratification of the most diabolical passions.
The revenge too, which they took, was, in most instances,
cowardly in the extreme ; and extended even to those who
had been their best friends and greatest benefactors, mere-
ly because they belonged to the class of the nobility, or be-
cause they endeavoured to bring them back to a sense of
their duty and real welfare.

Had the members of the National Assembly been the
enlightened advocates of liberty, and the true friends of
their country, they would have exerted their influence, in
the first place, and above all other considerations, to the
repression of anarchy and the restoration of obedience,
from the conviction, that whatever they might decree in
their meetings respecting the political or civil privileges
of the people, could not be enjoyed by them, till they were
restored to a sense of their duties, and of the necessity as
well as advantage of obedience and order. But the Assem-
bly, instead of endeavouring to repress the tumults which
disgraced the capital and the provinces of France, — instead
even of enacting laws which were applicable to the state of
the country, and which might gradually have conduced, at
once, to restore the privileges and liberties of the people,
and to repress their licentiousness, — instead of acting in
this sensible manner, they spent their lime in discussing
abstract propositions, which either were unintelligible, or
could not possibly have any practical application to the ex-
isting state of the country. Had France been in perfect
tranquillity, and every law been passed which was essential
to preserve that tranquillity, and to secure the liberty of
the subject, such discussions might have been excused,
because they would have done little harm, and not have
occupied time and abilities which had much more urgent
demands upon them ; but when the machinery of the state
was in complete disorder, and at the same time working
with the most mischievous and fatal rapidity, it was absurd
and criminal in the highest degree, to be discussing the
principles on which it had been, or might be, constructed,
instead of repairing its defects. Yet such was the conduct
of the National Assembly. The abstract proposition of the
rights of man, which, besides being abstract, and therefore
improper for the discussion of the Assembly, was not very
intelligible, occupied their time and attention at the very
period when the smallest reflection, the most limited prac-
tical knowledge of mankind, might have convinced them,
that the people of France could not be put in possession of

342

lllANCK.

their rights, with ailvantat^e tu Ihcinselvc., or with safety
to the community, while they continued so forgetiul oflhi-ii-
duties, as to give themselves up to anarchy, plunder, utid
murder.

The other discussions of the National Assonibly were on
iuhjects more practical, and therefore more fitted to their
character and situation ; but even these should have been
postponed till they had proved their authority over the peo-
ple, by restoring order and tranc|uillity. The feudal sys-
tem, in all its branches, was abolished ; the public burdens
were equalized ; the most oppressive taxes were repealed ;
the clergy gave up their territorial rights ; and a resolu-
tion was passed to inquire into the pensions granted by the
court. As the King did not oppose these proceedings, he
became popular for a short time, and was honoured with
the appellation of the Restorer of tlie Liberties of France.
Indeed, it was now evident, that if he did not yield to the
storm, he would be overwhelmed by it, for he had no sup-
porters; even the Swiss and French guards had deserted
him.

Could observation and experience have taught the Na-
tional Assembly the folly of their conduct, in not beginning
by repressing the insurrectionary spirit of the people, they
would have learnt wisdom by the events of each passing
day. In Paris corn was still dear ; and the people, let
loose from all restraint, were still more goaded on to licen-
tiousness by this circumstance. In the provinces, the pea-
santry, taking advantage of the abolition of the feudal rights,
plunged into the most dreadful excesses ; the nobility were
murdered; justice was set at nought; and even the har-
vest, the means of their own future support, suffered from
their blind and ungovernable fury.

If the revenue of the country was inadequate to its ex-
penditure, when every thing was tranquil, and when no
corn was imported, the deficiency must necessarily have
been augmented considerably, during the suspension of la-
bour, the importation ol corn, and the defalcation of many
of the taxes, payment of which was eluded or refused by
the refractory populace. Neckar, therefore, found his diffi-
culties increase, while his means of removing them were
diminished ; for he could not expect, in the disturbed and
discontented state of the country, that any financial mea-
sures would be well received, or could be rendered pro-
ductive. He therefore thought it his duty, expressly to
point out to the National Assembly, that, when he return-
ed, there were in the royal treasury only 400,000 livres ;
that the expenditure immensely exceeded the revenue ;
and that public credit was extinguished. In this state of
things, he proposed a loan of thirty millions, at an interest
of five per cent. ; but the Assembly, in the foolish excess
of their mistaken patriotism, decreed, that the interest
should be only 44 per cent.; that no security should be
given to the subscribers ; and that no period should be fix-
ed for reimbursement. The consequence was, that, in 20
days, little more than two million livres were subscribed ;
the finances became still more embarrassed, and at length
it was deemed expedient to vote a loan of 80 millions, at
five per cent, to be redeemed in ten years. They thus
went into the contrary extreme ; and, by the very favoura-
ble terms which they proposed, and the large amount of the
loan, gave palpable proofs of the wants of the state, and of
their knowledge or suspicion of the inability, or the unwil-
lingness of the moneyed men to supply those wants.

The next subject which occupied their attention, was
the abolition of tithes. That they were a grievance, and
detrimental not only to agriculture, but to the cause of re-
ligion, was acknowledged by almost all the members ; but
they undertook to abolish them, before they had well con-
sidered by what means this could be effected, so as not to

injure any parly. Thoy confounded the impropriate tithC:.
with those of the church ; that is, they confounded absolute
property with what the state had set apart for the dischargi-
of religious duty, and might therefore take away. The
Able Sicycs on this occasion, supported the rights of the
clergy, and the Marquis de Mirabeau opposed them. The
debates were long and eloquent ; at last, a few of the caret.
having voluntarily surrendered their tithes, their example
was followed by most of the clergy. This fund, thus sup-
])lied, even if it could have been made immediately effi-
cient and applicable, was by no means adetiuate to the ne-
cessities of the state; and Neckar beheld a national bank-
ruptcy ap|)roaching. To avert this, as all the regular plans
of linance had utterly failed, he addressed himself to the
patriotic enthusiasm of the people. The people were, iii
general, willing, but their means were small, and they made
no secret that they expected to be recompenced for their
liberality, by a still further curtailment of the royal powers
and privileges.

The committee which had been appointed by the Nation-
al Assembly to lay down the principles of a new constitu-
tion, expressly declared that the King ought to have an
absolute xie<o on every law. This proposition met with vi-
olent and general opposition from the people ; and, while
it was discussed in the Assembly, numerous guards of mi-
litia, and several pieces of cannon, were stationed in diffe-
rent parts of the capital. From the first meeting of the
Assembly, all their debates had been carried on in a large
hall, into which admission was perfectly free : the conse-
quences, as might have been foreseen, were absolutely de-
structive of freedom of discussion, as the members, either
through fear, or the desire of popularity, were too general-
ly disposed to adopt that side of every question which they
knew would meet the approbation of the multitudes who
filled the galleries. The month of August was consumed
in debates about the veto, which at length was indirectly
negatived by the decrees that were passed for the forma-
tion of the constitution. These decrees were in some re-
spects rational and practical ; but they were preceded by a
declaration of the rights of men and citizens, so specula-
tive and metaphysical, where it was well founded, as to be
of no utility ; and in other points calculated to mislead and
inflame the ignorant and already maddened populace. The
decrees respecting the constitution, went to establish a li-
mited monarchy, and to separate completely the legislative
from the executive powers : but it is unnecessary to give
the details of this or of any other of the numerous consti-
tutions which were made in France ; it is sufficient to no-
tice the leading principles on which they were grounded.

To the most negligent observer, the state of the capital
at this period must have appeared very threatening. Par-
ties ran excessively high ; and on neither side was there
moderation. But the most alarming symptoms were, that
a most active and numerous association was evidently form-
ing, who regarded even those who had hitherto taken the
lead against the royal party, as lukewarm, and stopping
far short of what they ought to have achieved. On the
feelings of the lowest of the mob, this third party operated
with wonderful but most mischievous effect. The scarci-
ty which still existed, was ascribed to government. A re-
port that the King intended to leave Versailles, and proba-
bly the kingdom, was industriously spread, and the most
innocent actions of the royal family were grossly misrepre-
sented. Unfortunately the Queen did not conduct herself
with that reserved and piudent caution, which her unpopu-
larity, and the circumstances of the times, absolutely re-
quired. At an entertainment given by the garde du corfis,
to the regiment of Flanders, which had been ordered to
Versailles to protect the King, the national cockade, which

I iiA^ci:.

343

had been lately adopted, was thrown aside, and while cock-
ades supplied by the ladies of the court. Tliis imprudent
behaviour was soon known at Paris, where, while the peo-
ple were suffering under tlie pressure of famine, llicy
learned that a splendid entertainment had been given at
Versailles, as if to insult their misery, and that the symbol
of that constitution, from which tliey expected the removal
of their grievances, had been supplanted by the symbol of
that government, to which they ascribed them. The po-
pulace were joined by the militia of Paris and the ancient
French guards ; and the Marquis de la Fayette was inform-
ed that they were determined to go to Versailles, to ex-
terminate those who had insulted the national cockade, and
even to depose the King, if he did not protect and relieve
them. The Marquis employed liis influence and authori-
ty in vain. An immense number of women of the lowest
rank, clamorous for bread, and rather encouraged than pre-
vented by the military, set off for Versailles. As soon as
they arrived, they besieged the National Assembly, and, in
a manner, compelled them to send along with them, to the
King, a deputation of their members. In the mean time,
La Fayette, having collected the national guard, also arri-
ved. He first presented himself to the National Assem-
bly, and afterwards went to protect the King and royal fami-
ly. The Queen was the principal object of the fury of the
populace, and a desperate attempt was made on her life ;
but she, as well as the rest of the royal family, were saved
by the interposition of La Fayette : but they were obliged
to promise to leave Versailles, and go to Paris immediate-
ly. The journey was dreadful, not only in its actual cir-
cumstances, but as a dreadful foreboding of what was to
come. Before, around, and behind the royal family, were
a mob of frantic women, debauched and drunken, attended
and cheered by men, if possible, more diabolical than them-
selves. The procession was headed by two men, who,
with their arms naked and bloody, displayed aloft on their
pikes, the heads of two of the garde du corjm, whom they
had massacred.

The success and triumph of the unprincipled and fe-
rocious party, who were anxious to lay hold of all the
power, in order that th.ey might gratify their diabolical
passions, was now nearly complete. By having forced the
King and the National Assembly to Paris, they had suc-
ceeded in overawing them both, and in virtually placing
all authority in the mob. In vain did the King declare his
willingness to adopt any measure that would benefit the
nation ; in vain did the National Assembly, while they de-
clared themselves the advocates and supporters of liberty,
deprecate licentiousness. Every day beheld their authority
tottering, and the influence of the most desperate and aban-
doned of the inhabitants of Paris increasing. The Duke
of Orleans secretly encouraged the licentiousness of the
jnob ; and though, for a short time, he was persuaded by
La Fayette to retire to England, yet he soon returned ;
and, even during his absence, his emissaries were at work,
carrying on their measures of anarchy and licentiousness.

The principal proceedings of the National Assembly
during the remainder of the year 1789, related to the
division of the kingdom into departments, and the confis-
cation of the church lands. Early in the following year,
they suppressed the monastic establishments, and confis-
cated their lands. These decrees evidently tended to con-
ciliate the people at large : in June the army and navy
were in a great measure gained over, or kept firmly at-
tached to the National Assembly, by the passing of de-
crees for the augmentation of their pay.

In the mean time, the emigrants from France were
active and indefatigable in their endeavours to stir up
ioreign powers in their behalf; and the proceedings which

had lately taken place in Paris and in different provinces,
gave them too strong pretexts for urging their interference.
It was therefore necessary for tlie Assembly to provide for
the not improbable case of a speedy war ; and when M.
Montmorency communicated to them the hostile prepara-
tions in which England and Spain were engaged, respect-
ing a right of fishery on the coast of America, the ques-
tion was discussed, " Who ought to possess the power of
declaring peace or war ?" The debate was long, and con-
ducted with considerable animation and talent : but the
time was gone by, when the royal party, however wise
their measures, or strong their arguments might be, could
reasonably expect to carry their point. On this occasion
the triumph of the popular party was complete ; and it
was decreed that the right of peace ov war belonged to
the nation.

As the Assembly were sensible that their proceedings
were viewed with suspicion and jealousy by foreign powers,
they decreed that the French nation would never embark
in any war with a view to conquest, nor ever employ their
forces against the liberties of any people. Thus was the
crown, in a very short time, stripped not only of its unjust
and hurtful prerogatives, but also of those which were
necessary to give it due and proper weight, and to pre-
serve to the constitution the reality as well as the name of
a monarchy.

On the 19th of June, a motion was made to suppress all
hereditary titles, liveries, and coats of arms. This was also
carried ; and, of all the King's ministers, Neckar alone, a
plebeian, bred and born in a democracy, and who had
always professed republican principles, advised his Ma-
jesty to refuse his assent to the decree.

The French are fond of spectacle ; and of this fondness
it was now resolved to take advantage. The Bastile had
been destroyed on the 1 4th of July the preceding year.
As the anniversary of this event was now approaching, it
was proposed that on that day a civic oath should be taken.
The Champ de Mars, a spacious plain which adjoins the
capital, was fixed on for the ceremony. In the midst of it
an altar was placed, and around the altar an amphitheatre
was constructed, capable of containing 400,000 people.
At 4 o'clock in the evening, the Marquis de la Fayette
ascended the altar, and took an oath to be faithful to the
nation, the law, and the King : the deputies of the regular
troops and militia repeated, " I swear." The Marquis was
followed by the president of the National Assembly, who
took an oath varying in substance a little from that taken
by the military ; and each deputy repeated aloud, after the
president, " I swear." The King also, stretching his arm
towards the altar, took an oath to employ all the power de-
legated to him by the constitution, for the maintenance of
the constitution, and the execution of the law.

Neckar had long been convinced that his influence was
on the wane, and that, even if he still enjoyed it undiminish-
ed, he could do no good, either in restraining the blind fury
of political innovation, or in restoring order to the finances;
he was besides a vain m^n ; and, as has been already re-
marked, more conversant in detail than in general prin-
ciples and comprehensive views. On the 4th of Septem-
ber he gave in his resignation.

The hostile preparations of Germany, Spain, Italy, and
Savoy, had, in the beginning of 1791, assumed a character
that could leave little doubt they were intended against
France. With respect to Germany, the German princes,
who possessed territory on the north side of the Rhine,
could not be indifferent spectators of a revolution in their
immediate neighbourhood, which had stripped the French
nobility of all their privileges, and, in many instances, had
deprived them of their lives. Besides, the German pc^-

344

FRANCE.

sants were not slow in following the example set them by
tlicir brethren in France ; so that what they had actually
sufiercti, as well as the dangers they apprehended, stiinu-
lated the German princes against the KcvoUition. In their
apprcJK'nsions of luture dan;^er, the oilier piinces, at pre-
sent remote irona the example and induence of the Revo-
lution, were not slow in participating ; and these appre-
hensions likewise took hold ol' several of the sovereigns of
Europe. There were also other considerations which in-
fluenced some of Ihcm : the Emperor of Germany was
naturally anxious respecting the fate of his_ sister, the
Queen of France, who was peculiarly obnoxious to the
Revolutionists ; and the King of Spain could not behold
with indifference one branch of the Bourbons stript almost
entirely of regal power, and the King, as it were, the slave
of his own people.

The Parisians, alarmed at these hostile preparations,
were suspicious that the King was consenting to them ;
and their suspicions were increased and strengthened by
the departure, in the month of February, of his aunts from
Paris. Nor were they satisfied by the declaration of Louis,
that, as the laws did not lay them under any restraint, he
did not oppose their departure. They naturally conclud-
ed that the King had a design of following them, and of
joining an eniigrant force, which was now collecting on
the borders of Alsace. All his motions were watched with
so much jealousy, that, on the 18lh of April, as the royal
family were preparing to go to St Cloud, a report was
spread that they were about to emigrate, and their carriages
were immediately surrounded and stopt by the people. La
Fayette, upon this, called out the national gusrd, but they
refused to act ; and he was so much hurt at their refusal,
that he resigned his command ; nor was he, without a very
general and pressing solicitation, prevailed upon to accept
it again.

The suspicions of the people respecting the intended
flight of the royal party were well founded ; but it was de-
layed, till it was hoped it might be efl'ected safely and cer-
tainly. The Marquis de Bouillce, who commanded on the
frontiers, removed the national guards, and replaced them
by such troops as he could depend upon ; and in the whole
of the route which the royal party were to pursue, every
thing which could facilitate their escape had been prepar-
ed with as much order and secrecy as possible. On the
21st of June, it was ascertained that the royal family had
left the capital in such a secret manner, that no doubt could
be entertained of their intention of quitting France. Im-
mediately all was consternation and commotion, mixed
with unbridled fury, among the populace. The National
Assembly were more cool and composed : they declared
their sittings permanent, and assumed the government.
As the route of the royal fugitives was unknown, mes-
sengers were dispatched in all directions. Their fate was
not long in suspense. Monsieur and Madame arrived
safely at Brussels; but the King, Queen, and Dauphin
were arrested at Varennes, within a very short distance of
the frontiers. This unfortunate attempt excited in the
multitude such an abhorrence of the King, whom they
suspected of an intention to join the emigrant army, and
to invade France, that his most sanguine friends could now
no longer hope he would regain their confidence or loyalty ;
and this feeling of the multitude was cherished and exas-
perated by all those, who were determined to destroy even
the name and vestiges of a monarchy, and to substitute in
its room, either an undefined and speculative democracy,
or the unrestrained power of the mob ; for about this pe-
riod, those men began silently and secretly to use their in-
fluence, who afterwards plunged France into an unparal-
leled state of crime and wretchedness.

As the plan for the King's flight had been well arrang-
ed, and consequently its success had been anticipated,
many of his friends, who had hitherto remained in France,
now emigrated. The Marquis de Bouiilde, who was one
of these, afterwards sent a very foolish and mischievous
letter to the National Assembly, in which he denounced
vengeance to them, and the utter destruction of Paris, if
the lives of t!ie loyal family were in danger. He added,
that he would conduct the foreign armies into France, and
that his letter was but the forerunner of the manifesto of
the sovereigns of Europe. As danger from abroad was
"undouljtedly approaching, the National Assembly consider-
ed it their duly to guard against il by every possible pre-
paration ; but it was also desirable to rouse the passions of
the multitude to sucli a pitch, as would induce them to
come forward as with one heart, in defence of their coun-
try. The letter of the Marquis de Bouillce had in some
degree this efl'ect ; but their purpose was still more com-
pletely answered, by the circulation in France of what was
called the treaty of Pilnitz. The aathenticity of this
treaty has been denied ; but whether authentic or not, as
it produced a wonderful effect on the French nation, it re-
quires to be noticed. Il purported to be a partition treaty
between certain of the powers of Europe, by which they
agreed to make war on France, and to recompense them-
selves for the expences of the war, and the restoration of
Louis to his full authority, by annexing certain parts of the
territories of France to their own dominions. In the mean
time, the National Assembly, on the 3d of September, pre-
sented the new constitution to the King. For reasons
already stated, it is unnecessary to give the details of it,
especially as the leading principles on which it is ground-
ed have been noticed before. The King having accepted
the constitution, the National Assembly dissolved itself on
the 30th of September. From its principal and professed
object having been the formation of a constitution, it is
generally denominated the Constituent Assembly.

The next Assembly, which was elected according to the
forms prescribed in the new constitution, met on the 7th
of October. The members of it were entirely new, as the
members of the Constituent Assembly, by their own de-
crees, were excluded from holding seats in it. One of
their first decrees respected the emigrants, who were as-
sembling in considerable numbers on the frontiers of
France : the punishment of death was denounced against
them, if they should continue thus after the 1st of January
1792. Severe decrees also were passed against the re-
fractory clergy, or those who refused to take the civic oath ;
but the King refused to sanction these decrees. In order
to qualify this refusal, he intimated to the Assembly, that
the Elector of Treves, on whose territories the emigrants
were assembling, ought to be considered as the enemy of
France, unless he put a stop to their hostile preparations
by the commencement of the following year. This inti-
mation gave considerable satisfaction, and in some mea-
sure, for a short time, restored the popularity of the King.
This satisfaction was also increased by the declarations
received from foreign powers, which expressed, in cau-
tious, and perhaps ambiguous language however, their
wish to preserve peace with France. But it was impos-
sible that Louis could long retain his popularity ; he was
too much under the influence of those who were regarded
with suspicion by the republican party, and the republican
party themselves were too eager for an opportunity to
censure the King. That this party was gaining strength,
at least in the capital, was evinced by a circumstance which
happened there in the month of November. At tins time
the mayoralty of Bailly expired ; the candidates were La
Fayette and Petion ; a very few months before, the po'

FRANCE.

345

pularity of the former was so great, that no person would
have wished or dared to have opposed him ; but now Pe-
tion, a violent republican, was elected mayor by a great
majority.

It is evident from this, that the republicans were not
only strong, but well organised ; in fact, they had held, for
some time, their regular meetings ; and from the place
of their assembling, they had received or assumed the
name of Jacobins. To oppose them, some of the most
celebrated members of the Constituent Assembly formed
themselves into a society, which derived its name from
the convent of the Feuillons, where they assembled.
Among them were Rabaud, Sieyes, Talleyrand, Montes-
quieu, &c.

The hostile preparations of the emigrants, and of the
foreign powers, still went on ; nor were they delayed in the
least by the death of the Emperor of Germany, or the mur-
der of the King of Sweden. As the French minister for
foreign affairs did not use corresponding diligence and ex-
ertions, he was accused, even during his absence, by Bris-
sot, apprehended, tried at Orleans, and executed. The
management of affairs was next placed in the hands of
those, who would not fail to make all due preparation for
the hostilities which threatened France. Dumourier was
appointed minister of war, Roland minister of the interior,
and Claviere minister of finance. This completed the tri-
umph, and established the power of the republicans. One
of the first acts of this party was to confiscate the properly
of the emigrants ; their next was to declare war, on the
20th of April, against the king of Hungary and Bohemia,
in consequence of the Imperial minister demanding the
restoration to the German princes of their feudal rights ;
the restoration of Avignon to the Pope ; and that the
neighbouring powers should have no reason for apprehen-
sion, from the weakness of the internal government of
France.

The French armies immediately invaded the Austrian
Netherlands; but the plan of the campaign was contrived
with so little foresight or wisdom, and, from the want of
discipline and experience in the troops, so miserably exe-
cuted, that it was productive of no advantage to the French.
Indeed it was evident, that unless their troops were more
obedient to their officers, they would do more mischief to
the cause of France than to that of the enemy ; and yet
such was the state of the public feeling, both in the army
and at Paris, that the evil seemed more likely to increase
than diminish. In the capital, party spirit was very vio-
lent; but the Jacobins were evidently gaining ground; and
the measures they adopted for increasing their own influ-
ence with the peojjle, and diminishing that of their oppo-
nents, could not fail of effect. They circulated reports
of intrigue and conspiracy in favour of the enemies of the
coimtry ; the mob, credulous, easily alarmed, and now accus-
tomed to regard the aristocratical party as decidedly hos-
tile to their interests, as well as the lawful objects of their
vengeance, rallied round the Jacobins, and supported, in a
violent and tumultuous manner, tlicir most extravagant
propositions. For some time the King yielded to tliem ;
but, like all his former conduct during the Revolution, af-
ter having given them his countenance, and thus increased
their power, he altered his conduct, and, when it was too
late, resolved to oppose them. The ministry were dismiss-
ed, except Dumourier, who, by being thus excepted by the
King, became an object of suspicion with the Jacobin club ;
he therefore resigned his otlice, and joined the army.
About this time, Marat, afterwards so infamously notorious,
appeared on the stage, and, by his inflammatory writings
and harangues, contributed much to increase the impopu-
larity of the king. On the 20th of June, an armed mob

Vol. IX. Part. I.

marched through the Assembly, under the pretence of
presenting petitions; they afterwards, to the number of
40,000, surrounded the Thuillcries, and insulted the king.
As soon as these disgraceful events were known in the
army, La Fayette left it, and presented himself at the bar
of the National Assembly, where he exjiressed the indig-
nation of the troops, and called upon the Assembly to pre-
vent the repetition of such scenes, by punisliing the pro-
moters of them, and especially by dissolving the factious
clubs. But the power of the Assembly was vain against
clubs supported by the most numerous, the most desperate
and the most worthless part of the population of Paiis; in
them, in fact, was centered the government of the capital,
or rather in the Jacobin club, which ruled and moulded
them at its pleasure.

To these dreadful internal evils was now added an ap-
proaching invasion. The King of Prussia, in conjunction
with Austria, was marching against France with an im-
mense force ; while the French armies were comparatively
few in number, and by no means equal to their opponents
in respect to the discipline and obedience of the soldiers,
or the talents and experience of the officers. But their
deficiencies, in these respects, it was hoped, would be more
than compensated by their enthusiasm, and by the co-ope-
ration of the people. These, however, it was necessary
to rouse, and for this purpose the Assembly ordered a pro-
clamation to be made that the country was in danger.
This object, however, was more efi'cctually accomplished,
by a manifesto, issued by the Duke of Brunswick, as conv-
iiiandcr of the invading army, at Coblenlz, on the 25th of
July. In this manifesto, destruction to Paris, and the ex-
ecution of all who resisted, were denounced : and the safety
of the royal family was declared to be the only condition
on which the capital, or the National Assembly, could pos-
sibly escape the severest vengeance of the allied powers.
The immediate consequence of this imprudent and impo-
litic manifesto, was the union of all parties, for their mu-
tual defence, and the support of what they conceived to
be the will of the nation, and the independence of F" ranee.
However they might differ and quarrel among themselves,
all felt and acted on the necessity, at the present moment,
of opposing the allied powers, who entered France with
such declarations of vengeance. The friends of the King
soon fatally experienced the extent of mischief to him and
his cause, which this manifesto produced. The republi-
cans, long anxious for his deposition, had now too good an
opportunity to be neglected ; — for who, thought they, would
dare to defend a King, who was such an enemy to France,
as to have his safety put in competition with its liberty and
independence ? Qut it was necessary, even yet, to proceed
with caution in the deposition of Louis : the republicans
could not expect that the National Assembly would willing-
ly agree to it. They bad accused La Fayette befoj^ it, and
he had been acquitted ; and hence they inferred, that their
measures respecting the King would not be well received
by that Assembly; it was therefore their object to excite
tlie worst passions of the populace against him.

In Paris, at this time, there were too many, who might
easily be made the zealous instruments of the worst of
crimes; for, besides the mob of the city, 15,000 Marseil-
lois had arrived, at the period of the confederation, on the
14th of July, not tlie least behind the most unprincipled and
ferocious of the Parisians in their hatred of royalty and or-
der, and in their disposition to excite disturbance, and to
commit murder. With tliese, and the mob of Paris, the
republicans intrigued, and the friends of Louis were not
long in perceiving that his life was in danger. The palace,
therefore, was guarded by a number of gentlemen, by the
Swiss troops, and by 12 pieces of cannon. Mandat, the

)46

FRANCE.

commander of the national guards, was at their head. At
midnight, on the 9th of August, the tocsin sounded, and
the drums beat to arms; but the republicans knew that
•while Mandat lived, their efforts against the lite of the
King would be unavailing ; they therefore contrived to per-
suade him to leave his post, and come to the commune,
which was entirely composed of their own friends; and as
he was leaving the hall, he was shot, and Santerre appoint-
ed to command the national guard in his place.

On the 10th of August, Louis found himself placed in
such a perilous situation in the palace, that he sought pro-
tection in the National Assembly. Immediately after he
left the Thuilleries, tlie insurgents, to the number of 20,000
men, attacked the Swiss who guarded it : a bloody combat
ensued; but the Swiss were overpowered, and most of
them massacred. The republican patty, now strong in the
success which had attended their first efforts, and in the
terror which they had excited, resolved to push the execu-'
tion of their favourite object immediately; the royal au-
thority was suspended; the nation invited to choose a con-
vention ; commissioners sent to the army; and the royal
family imprisoned in the Temple.

The inhucnce which La Fr.yette possessed with the ar-
my, it was hoped, by the friends of the king and of justice
and order, would preserve them loyal and obedient ; but
they were not to be depended upon, and La Fayette judged
it prudent to leave the camp, soon after intelligence of the
transactions at Paris had arrived, and to seek his safety in
flight. He escaped from his own troops, but he was made
prisoner by the enemy, and detained in Austrian and Prus-
sian dungeons for several years. The commissioners now
found no opposition to the authority which they were
empowered to exercise over the army ; but were received
■with respect by Generals Dumourier, Biron, Montesquieu,
Kellerman, and Custine. Dumourier, having removed the
suspicions formerly entertained of him by the republicans,
was appointed commander-in-chief, on the Hight of La Fay-
ette. This general was at the head of about 17,000 men,
and, with this inadequate force, his object was to watch, for
he could not hope to oppose, the progress of the allied
forces. These had entered France so numerous and well
equipped, that the conquest of that country seemed certain
and near at hand. The Duke of Brunswick had 50,000
Prussians; there were 15,000 Austrians under Clairfait ;
and the Hessians and French emigrants raised the total
force to 90,000 men. Their success at first was propor-
tioned to their strength and their hopes. Longwy and Ver-
dun surrendered, and Paris was already in alarm.

This moment of alarm was not to be overlooked by the
Jacobin party, — it was loo favourable to their views. They
declared that the safety of the country, and the destruction
of foreign foes, could not be accomplished, while there ex-
isted in Jfaris so many domestic enemies of the people.
The most horrid massacres accordingly took place, at
which the forms of justice were either entirely neglected,
or attended to in such a manner, as to render the proceed-
ings still more repulsive to humanily. For two days, the
mob, under the direction of Marat, Roberspierre, and Dan-
ton, who now led the common council, had the entire pos-
session of Paris ; no person besides durst stir out of their
house ; the national guards at this crisis seemed disposed
to interfere, but Santerre was too strongly attached to the
violent Jacobins to repress cruelties which they had orga-
nized and directed.

The massacres did not cease, nor was even the appear-
ance of order and tranquillity completely re-established in
the capital, till intelligence arrived that the allies had com-
menced their retreat out of France. For some time after
•.he reduction of Verdun, they had advanced with little or

no opposition ; but as soon as Dumourier had organised
his army, lie opposed considerable obstacles to their far-
ther progress, and some battles were fought, in which the
French behaved with great coolness, and evidently shewed
that they were improved in discipline. Notwithstanding
this, however, and the additional circumstance, that the
troops under his command were much increased, Dumou-
rier would not have been able to save his country, had not
sickness and famine attacked the Prussians. The former
originated from the soldiers eating large quantities of fruit,
and from the unusual wetness of the season ; the latter took
its rise from the inhabitants absolutely refusing to carry
provisions to the camp of the enemy. It has been suspect-
ed that, even in spite of the reduction in the strength and
spirits of his soldiers, which sickness and famine produced,
the Duke of Brunswick might have driven the French ar-
my before him, if the King of Prussia had continued firm
to the cause of the allies. However this may be, after a
truce of eight days, he commenced his retreat : He was
not pursued, but Verdun and Longwy were retaken, and
Thionville, which had been gallantly defended by General
Wimpfen, was relieved. The Austrians were not more
successful than the Prussians ; for after besieging Lisle for
a fortnight without the least prospect of reducing it, they
raised the siege. On the side of Savoy, the French were
the invaders, and they were received by the people with
great joy and enthusiasm. The success which had attend-
ed the defence of their own territories, made them forget
that they had declared they would not invade the territories
of other nations : not only was Savoy invaded, but Spires,
Worms, Mentz, and Frankfort were attacked and taken be-
fore the close of 1792. The last place, however, did not
remain long in their possession, as it was recaptured on the
2d of December in that year. In the Netherlands, the
French were still more successful. On the 6tli of Novem-
ber, Dumourier attacked the Austrians, who were strongly
fortified on the heights of Jemappe. The battle was most
obstinate and bloody, but French enthusiasm, joined to su-
perior numbers, succeeded ; and this victory decided the
fate of the Austrian Netherlands.

In the mean time, the National Convention assembled ;
and as the republican party were by far the most numerous
in it, and were besides sure of support from the Parisians,
they proposed, on the very first day of tlic meeting, the
eternal abolition of royalty in France. This was carried
by acclamation. The next day it was decreed that all acts
should be dated by the year of the Republic; and the ap-
pellation of citizen was universally adopted. Still, notwith-
standing these foolish and mad acts, there were some men
in the convention who did not unite the utmost profligacy
of principle and depravity of conduct with their folly and
madness. These were the Girondists, ov Brissotines ; the
most celebrated and respectable of whom were Condorcet
and Brissot. The other paity were denominated the Moun-
tain, because the members of it usually sate on the upper
seats in the convention; of these, tlie most powerful and
infamous were Danlon, Roberspierre, Marat, and Collot
D'Herbois. The Girondists were anxious to punish the
perpetrators of the massacres of the 2d and 3d of Septem-
ber ; but their motions to this effect were always eluded
by the Mountain party, who had been chiefly instrumental
in these massacres, and looked forward to their repetition
as the means of intimidating their opponents, and establish-
ing their own power. In October a decree was passed,
that all emigrants when taken should suffer death ; and in
the followmg month, the Convention declared, in the name
of the French nation, that they would grant fraternity and
assistance to all people who were anxious to be free ; and
the generals were ordered to give assistance to all such.

FRANCE.

347

On the 1 1th of Decenibcr, Louis was ordered to the bar of
the Convention ; and the act of accusation being read, he
was required by tlie President to answer to each separate
charge. These charges were very numerous; some of
them were of a frivolous nature ; othei's related to acts
done either before the Revolution had defined and limited
the royal authority, or in conformity to the constitution
which had been established. Besides, that constitution had
declared the King's person inviolable. There were, how-
ever, it must be confessed, some charges, which were
more relevant, and better founded. These related to the
connection that the King kept up vvitli the emigrants and
with foreign powers ; but in defence of him, in tliis respect,
it may be fairly urged, that his situation was such, that no
wisdom, no purity of conduct, could have carried him
through, free from suspicion and personal danger. What
the legislative bodies, or the French people through them,
declared to be the constitution one day, was set aside the
next ; so that the King, seeing a total want of system, and
even of principle in the conduct of those who had wrested
the royal power from him, and the adoption of measures
which threatened not only his own safety, but the tranquillity
and happiness of France, ought not to be severely con-
demned if he looked to foreign support.

After he had replied to the various charges, he was
allowed to nominate his counsel. On the 26th of Decem-
ber, his defence was read at the bar of the Convention ;
and on the 16th of January, 1793, after a discussion of 34
hours, the punishment of death was awarded by a small
majority. On the 21st, the execution took place.

The weakness of Louis's mind, which had displayed it-
self so frequently and so fatally during the revolution, dis-
appeared when his misfortunes reached their height ; then
his whole conduct was firm, composed, and dignified :
and he met his fate in a manner which surprised and awed
even his enemies.

In the course of this year, France was at war with all
Europe, except Sweden, Denmark,- Switzerland, and Tur-
key. The grounds and operations of the war between her
and Great Britain, are given in the article Briiain, and
therefore need not be repeated here.

After the conquest of the Austrian Netherlands, Du-
mourier advanced towards Holland: but he did not con-
duct his operations with judgment ; for, dividing his forces
too much, he was obliged, after advancing as far as Ger-
truydenburg, to retreat before General Clairfait, with a
considerable loss. After experiencing another defeat, to-
wards which it is suspected his own treachery contributed,
6000 of his troops left the array, and went home to France.
Their representations, and other circumstances, induced
the Convention to send Commissioners to the army ; and
Dumourier, finding that his troops refused to act with
him, joined the Austrians. On the 8th of April, at a con-
gress of the combined powers held at Antwerp, it was re-
solved to invade France, for the express purpose of con-
(]uest. This resolution was immediately begun to be car-
ried into execution. The Austrians advanced ; and, after
five different engagements with the French, under Gene-
ral Dampier, in the last but one of which he was killed,
they succeeded in reaching Valenciennes, and commenced
the siege of it. About the same lime, the Prussians hav-
ing repulsed the FrCi.ch army under Cusline, laid siege to
Mentz. The advantages and progress of the allies created
great alarm in Paris, but were not unacceptable to the
party of the Mountain. Their object was the destruction
of the Girondists ; and to effect this, nothing else was ne-
cessary but to render them obnoxious to the people, as the
enemies of liberty, and the friends of the allied powers.
The Mountain party, on all occasions of violence and in-

justice, used as their instruments the mob of Paris, which
vvas now regularly organised for that purpose. The capi-
tal was divided iiito forty-eight sections, and each section
had its commune, or common hall, in which the most im-
pudent and unprincipled directed the proceedings. On the
I5th of April, the communes of all the sections petitioned
the Convention, that the leaders of the Girondist party
should be impeached and expelled. The Girondists re-
taliated by impeaching Marat; but he was acquitted. This
was the prelude of their fall. The Convention v/as now no
longer an independent body, but was overawed by the po-
pulace and the Mountain party. The latter, however, were
not so powerful in the provinces as in Paris. Most of the
southern departments declared the Mountain party out-
lawed, and broke out into open revolt. The northern de-
partments, in general, adhered to them. Soon after their
triumph, they lost one of their leading members, — Marat,
who was stabbed by Charlotte Corde, a woman who came
to Paris for that purpose, and who gloried in the execution
of a deed, which she thought the cause of freedom and of
her country called upon her to perform.

In a fortnight after, the Mountain party gained the as-
cendency over the Girondists. They framed a new con-
stitution, but it was never put in practice. They also esta-
blished, or at least gave more vigour to the revolutionary
tribunal, the object of which vvas to try crimes against the
state in the most summary and arbitrary manner.

The allies, in the mean time, did not derive so much ad-
vantage from the distracted state of France as might have
been expected ; for, however the French might be divided
among themselves, they seemed resolved that no foreign
power should interfere in their quarrels, or trespass with
impunity on their national independence. Valenciennes
held out till the 27th of July, and Mentz nearly as long.
The possession of these places seemed to open a direct
and easy road into the heart of France. But success pro-
duced its usual consequences ; the allies could not agree
in their future plans, and on this account divided their for-
ces. Unsuccessful attempts were made on Dunkirk, Cam-
bray, and Bouchain. Prince Cobourg was repeatedly at-
tacked by the French under Jourdan : The French sol-
diers, animated by the presence of commissioners from the
Convention, stimulated by spirituous liquors, which were
supplied them by crowds of women who attended the army
for this purpose, and to carry off the wounded, and sup-
ported by a formidable and well-served train of artillery,
were irresistible. The Austrians retired, and maritime
Flanders was again invaded, and partly conquered by the
French.

At this very period, when they were victorious on their
frontiers against their enemies, a civil war raged in differ-
ent parts of France. Lyons, Marseilles, and Toulon, still
opposed the authority of the Mountain party, and of course
of the Convention, who were completely subservient to the
views and interests of this party. On the 8th of August,
Lyons was attacked by the conventional troops, and though
soon reduced almost to ruins, it did not surrender till the
8th of October, when its walls and public buildings were
razed to the ground, and an immense number of its citizens
destroyed, by firing grape shot among them; the usual
mode of execution by the guillotine being too slow and easy
a death for |^e voracious cruelty of the conquerors. Mar-
seilles, terrified at the fate of Lyons, submitted ; and Tou-
lon put itself into the power of Lord Hood, who, however,
was soon obliged to evacuate it.

This civil war was between two parties, each of whom

was friendly to the revolution ; but the civil war in La

Vendee was of a different character. In this district of

France, the Bourbons had numerous and powerful friends.

Xx2

343

FRANCE.

Divided from the rest of France in some degree by its situ-
ation, and much more by the difference of the manners,
language, and liubits of the people, La Vendee had not
participated in the change of opinions which had produced
the revolution. Into it, as a secure i-ctrcat, many of the
priests, who had refused to take the civic oath iiad fled,
and as the inhabitants wcr-e superstitious, the priests did
riot fail to call in tlic aid of :-cligion to the cause of the
Bourbons. At hrst the insurgents of La Vendee were ra-
pidly successful ; they besieged Nantes, and even threat-
ened Paris; but after a tedious war, in wliiclr the most
dreadful cruelties were committed on both sides, they were
reduced to apparent and temporary submission.

The grand conflict between the allies and the French,
-in the months of October, November, and December, of
this year, was on the Rhine. As the latter did not deem
themselves sufficiently numerous to oppose their enemies,
they had erected very stror.g fortifications at Weissem-
burg, on the Lauter. On the 13lh of October, general
Wurmser made an attack upon them with all his force, and,
notwithstanding their strength, he succeeded with little dif-
ficulty in driving the French from their lines ; from thence
they retreated to Hagenau ; hence also they were driven;
and they were subsequently defeated on the 25th and 27th.
The design of the allies to conquer at least parts of France
for themselves, was now manifested ; for Wurmser refus-
ed to accept the surrender of Strasburg, unless to his Im-
perial Majesty. As the defeats which the French had suf-
fered were ascribed to treachery, or to a want of enthusi-
asm, commissioners were sent by the Convention to the
army, who, by the severity of their measures, as well as by
the doctrines that they preached to the common soldiers,
succeeded in rendering them victorious. This effect,
however, must also be ascribed, in part, to the nume-
rous reinforcements, which the measures adopted by the
convention supplied to all the French armies, the nature of
•which will be afterwards explained. General Wurmser
soon experienced the difference in the ardour and efforts of
the army opposed to him, after the arrival of the commis-
sioners ; foi', by the middle of November, his advance and
success were at an end — the French became the assailants.
Not only the Austrians, but also the Prussians, were de-
feated in all quarters ; they could not withstand the im-
mense numerical superiority, aided as it was by the mad-
dening enthusiasm of the French, even in their strongly
fortified redoubts at Hagenau, Rheishoffen, Wrotte, &c. ;
from almost all of these they were driven at the point of
the bayonet. Generals Hoche and Pichegru directed these
wonderful achievements of the French. The campaign
terminated in this quarter by the reduction of Spires and
Fort Louis.

We have already alluded to the means by which the
French armies were supplied with such a great numerical
superiority, as to compensate, in some degree, for their
"Want of experience and discipline : it will now be proper
to explain them. As the Convention had completed the
business for which they had been elected, viz. the forma-
tion of a constitution, they ought to have dissolved them-
selves ; but under the pretext, that, in the state of France,
their dissolution, and the election of a new assembly, might
be dangerous, the Mountain party, which was still triumph-
ant, determined that it should continue till tl|^ end of the
•^var. They also succeeded in establishing what was called
a revolutionary go-vernment, the principal engines of which
was the committee of public safety. This superintended
a number of inferior committees ; and united in itself a
•wonderful degree of secrecy, dispatch, skill, and energy.
It corresponded with all the jacobin clubs throughout
X ranee, and ssnt commissioners, with unlimited powers,

into all parts of the kingdom. It is evident that this form
of government possessed wonderful means of carrying
all its measures into complete effect ; and, as its members
were actuated by one sole motive — that of establishing
their peculiar principles, — these means were never ne-
glected through inattention, or sacrificed to interest. In
shoit, at this period, the whole population of France, with
all its corporeal and mental powers, stimulated by the most
wild and energetic enthusiasm, was directed by a body of
men, who knew all the resources of the state, and who
exercised their unlimited and almost unquestioned autho-
rity, with a degree of talent, vigilance, secrecy, activity,
and zeal, never perhaps before combined. They were
despotic, not less by the power which they actually possess-
ed, than by the feeling which actuated France ; for such
was the abhorrence of seeing their country overrun by
loreigners, such the desire of rendering what they con-
ceived to be liberty triumphant, that the people almost of-
fer-cd themselves to the operation of those measures,
which, with different feelings, and under different circum-
stances, they would have opposed as arbitrary and tyranni-
cal. Thus the deci-ee for placing France in a state of re-
quisition, by which all unmarried citizens, from 18 to 25,
were ordered to join the armies ; while the married, the
aged, and even the women and clfildren, were to be employ-
ed in various ways in the service of their country, by forg-
ing arms, making tents and clothes, attending the hospi-
tals, preaching hatred against the enemies of the republic,
&c. was not opposed ; so far from this, it produced all the
effects which the committee of public safety, (from which
it originated.) anticipated and expected.

The Mountain party having thus succeeded in raising
the whole population of France against their enemies, and
in securing victory by the numbers and enthusiasm of the
armies, resolved to destroy the Queen and the Girondist
parly. Against the former accusations were brought so
abhorrent to human nature, that even the most depraved
of the Mountain party wei'e shocked at their tendency ;
after a mock trial, she was executed on the 16th of Octo-
ber. On the 30th of the same month, Brissot and 20 others
of his party were executed; and the Duke of Orleans,
who united perhaps a greater degree of personal and poli-
tical depravity, than any man with whom the i-evolution
has cursed France, was afterwards put to death, by that
very party whom he had materially conti'ibuted to bring
forward to serve his own purposes, and who now accused
him of having aspir-ed to the sovereignty from the com-
mencement of the revolution.

As soon as the Mountain party had got rid of their oppo-
nents, they abandoned themselves to the most extravagant
and most dreadful excesses. It seemed, in their mad and
blind rage for innovation, as if they thought they could ut-
terly alter, not only the constitution of society, but also the
very structure of the human mind ; and that they were re-
solved not to rest from their labours, till they had peopled
France with a race of beings devoid of every feeling, prin-
ciple, or habit, which can dignify or console mankind. On
the 7th of November, Gobet, archbishop of Paris, with se-
veral other clergymen, renounced the Christian religion in
the hall of the Convention ; and a decree was afterwards
passed, that the only French deities should hereafter be
Liberty, Equality, and Reason. The Parisians, however,
were not so utterly profligate as to go along with the Con-
vention in this respect ; and Roberspierre increased his po-
pularity, by supporting religious worship.

In the beginning of 1794, the proposition of the allies
jirovisionally to acknowledge the French republic, was re-
jected by the Convention. Possessed of such an immense
machine as the whole population of France, which they

FRANCE.

i4.9

U'iekled at their pleasure with most wonderful talent, ant!
which they had already seen produce the most astonishinu;
efi'ects, it was not to be supposed that, in the moment of
victory, the Convention would he disposed to treat with
the allies, on the ambiguous condition of provisionally ac-
kno\vlcd;4ing the republic. Resolved therefore to perse-
vere in the war, and having completely succeeded in re-
cruiting the armies, the Convention turned their thoughts
to the state of the finances. Soon after the commencement
of the revolution, paper money, called cssifwafi, had been
issued ; but as these had suffered depreciation, both fiom
the uncertainty with respect to the fate of France, and from
the immense issues of them, a law was passed establishing
a maximum. This, however, it was soon discovered, in-
creased the evil; it then became necessary to support the
value and credit of the assignats, by the sale of the lands
belonging to the church, and to the emigrants and persons
condemned by the revolutionary tribunals. The churches
were plundered of their gold and silver; even their bells
•were melted and cast into cannon. In order still farther
to supply the want of money, the personal labours of al-
most all classes were put in requisition. The materials for
making gunpowder were perfected and supplied by the
chemists : immense numbers of muskets and cannon were
manufactured and cast. The whole agricultural produce
of the country was seized by the government, who dis-
tributed it to each district according to its population.

Yet these very men, who seemed to have but one soul
when they acted for the defence of France, were divided
into two most implacable parties. Roberspierre was at
the head of one ; Danton of the other. Roberspierre tri-
umphed, and by the middle of Apiil all his most active op-
ponents had suffered death. His own fate, however, was
not far distant ; for, on the 27th of July, several members
of the Convention whom he meant to have sacrificed,
(among whom the most enterprising was Tallien,) accused
him of tyranny : his arrest was decreed, and on the next
day he was seized and executed. To him the Moderate
party, as they were termed, succeeded ; who, at the same
time that they stopt short of his atrocities, were undoubt-
edly inferior to him in talent, activity, and vigour ; so that
had not the great machine of the army been so admirably
constructed, and so well supplied by Roberspierre and his
party, it must have fallen in pieces, or at least worked
with diminished effect under his successors.

The allies being now convinced that the French not on-
ly could bring into the field larger armies than they ex-
pected ; but that their generals possessed a very considera-
ble degree of skill, and their troops steadiness and disci-
pline, as well as enthusiasm, prepared to open the cam-
paign of 1794 with such a force, and on such a plan, as, in
their opinion, could not fail to render them generally and
permanently victorious. Their force amounted to upwards
of 180,000 men, consisting of Dutch, Germans, and English,
divided into six armies ; and their plan was, by getting
■within the frontier towns of France, to cut off their enemies
from the interior. At first they met with some success ;
but the numbers which the decrees of the committee of
public safety poured into the French armies, and the en-
thusiasm and ardour with which even these raw troops
were inspired, in a short time not only deprived the allies
of the fruits of their victories, but obliged them to act en-
tirely on the defensive.

Pichegru, especially, was eminently successful in ma-
ritime Flanders : Ypres surrendered to him, Charleroi was
taken by Jourdan, who afterwards defeated the Austrians
at Fleurus. These misfortunes compelled the allies to re-
treat in every direction ; and the French beheld themselves
advanced, victorious, lo the confines of Dutch Flanders.

On the Rhine, their success was equally great, and from
the same causes : before the end of July, the Palatinate
was in their possession. In the battles by which these
conquests were achieved, they indeed lost immense num-
bers of men ; but their leading principle was to bring up
superior forces every day till their object was accomplish-
ed ; and thus acting on their enemies with a body, not only
of greater weight, but of more rapid motion, they bore
down all opposition.

The only cases in which they were unsuccessful this
campaign, were in Corsica, and in their rencontre by sea
with Lord Howe ; the circumstances of both of which have
been detailed in the History of Britain.

From the pause which the French army made, when it
had advanced to the confines of Dutch Flanders, it was at
first supposed that they did not mean to invade the United
Provinces ; but after a short pause, Pichegru advanced,
and the allies retreated before him, first across the Maese,
and afterwards across the Rhine. On the 7lh of Novem-
ber, Nimeguen was occupied by the French, when they
again paused in the career of victory. On the borders of
Spain they were equally successful ; the Spaniards were
unable to stand before them, and the greater part of Na-
varre fell into theii power, while, on the east side of Spain,
Catalonia, by the conquest of Rosas, was left totally unde-
fended.

It is now time to look to Pai is, at once the scene of con-
stant intrigue, and the mutual massacre of parties, and the
source whence all the victories of the army flowed. The
Jacobins, though defeated, were not dispirited or inactive :
they formed a most dreadful plot to regain their power;
and this plot, as usual, was to be carried into execution in
Paris, for whoever ruled Paris ruled the kingdom ; and in
the most profligate districts of Paris, for hitherto whoever
ruled there, ruled the capital. The hall of the Convention
was surrounded, on the 20th of May 1793, by immense
numbers of abandoned and desperate women, who demand-
ed bread, and the constitution of 179 3 ; and the members
were compelled to retire, till General Hoche wilh the mi-
litary, dispersed the insurgents. The Jacobins, however,
returned to the charge in the evening ; and by pointing
some pieces of cannon against the hall of the Convention,
intimidated the members into a promise that bread should
be supplied, and the constitution of 1793 restored. The
troops again came to the relief of the Convention ; and, by
attacking the suburb of St Antoine, the great focus of re-
bellion, they succeeded in reducing the insurgents, and in
restoring the authority of the Convention. In the south of
France, where the Jacobins also endeavoured to regaia
their power, they were not more fortunate; so that the
Convention might have established themselves firmly, had
they been possessed of that commanding talent and ener-
gy, which the state of France, both at home and abroad, at
that time imperiously demanded. But they were deficient
in these respects ; and their deficiency they were anxious
to compensate, by the establishment of a new constitution.
The plan of this constitution was laid before the Conven-
tion, by the committee appointed to frame it, on the 23d of
June. According to it, the legislature was to be composed
of two assemblies; and the executive power v.'as to be en-
trusted to five persons, who were to be called the Execu-
tive Directory. This plan was not received with much ap-
probation at Paris ; and an especial provision made by the
Convention, that at the approaching election, the electors
should be bound to return two-thirds of the present mem-
bers, or, if they did not, that the Convention themselves
might fill up the vacancies, gave very great dissatisfaction.
In this emergency, the Convention endeavoured to strength-
en themselves against the citizens of Paris, by an vuiion

350

IIIANCE.

with the Jacobins ; and by this union, and the assistance of
the troops in Paris, which were placed under the com-
mand of Barras, Brune, and Bonaparte, the refractory citi-
zens were compelled to submit to the Convention ; but
the consequence was, that the Jacobins regained their as-
cendency.

On llie 27th of October, the Convention was dissolved,
and the new legislature began to act. Their first measure
was the election of the Executive Directory. Sieyes, Bar-
ras, Rucbcll, La Reveillere Lepaux, and Letourneur de La
INIanche, were chosen. Sieyes, however, declining the
honour, Carnot was appointed in his place. All the mem-
bers of the Directory, except La Reveillere Lepaux, had
been connected with the Mountain party.

At the commencement of the campaign of 1794, the
King of Prussia had received a subsidy from Britain, on
condition that he brought into the field an army of 60,000
men ; but as this army never arrived, it was suspected that
he was about to make peace with France. This suspicion
was confirmed ; for on the 20(h of April, 1795, a treaty of
peace with him was ratified by the Convention. Shorlly
afterwards, the Kings of Sweden and Spain, and the cantons
of Switzerland, also concluded a peace with France ; and
towards the end of August, several of the German princes
followed their example. The rest were on the point of act-
ing in the same manner, when victory begaii to desert the
French standard.

Before this reverse, however, the military successes of
the French had been very great. We have already men-
tioned, that, after the reduction of Nimeguen, their army
halted in its career of victory. It is jirobable that they
would not have invaded the province of Holland at this
season of the year, (the winter of 1794- 1795) had not the
frost, setting in with uncommon severity, opened for them
a safe and easy passage over the ice of those very rivers
and lakes, which it was hoped would have served as a secure
protection. The allies in vain attempting to oppose their
progress, they took possession of Amsterdam, without re-
sistance, on the 16th of January 179'5. They were well
received by the people, and increased their influence and
popularity by the abolition of the Stadtholdership.

Soon after this conquest, the Diet of Ratisbon seemed
disposed for peace. The allies, instead of overrunning and
dividing France, as they had planned and expected, beheld
the republic increased by an additional population of nearly
14 millions; while in the course even of the campaign of
1794, and before the conquest of Holland, tlie French had
taken 2000 pieces of cannon, and 60,000 prisoners. The
wish of the Diet, however, notwithstanding these wonder-
ful successes of the French, and the probability that they
would continue, was not met either by Britain or Austria.
The former was still successful by sea ; and hoped, by
nourishing and supporting the royalist party in La Vendee,
to accomplish thut which the allied army had failed in ef-
fecting ; but the most disastrous expedition to Quiberon
extinguished her hopes in that quarter.

Austria directed her efforts with more wisdom. By the
middle of June, the French were in possession of the whole
left bank of the Rhine, except Mentz. In August, Jourdan
crossed this river, in order to besiege Mentz ; while Pi-
chegru succeeded in gaining possession of Manheim. The
Austrians having been driven back, the siege of Mentz
was begun ; but Jourdan was soon obliged to give it up, in
consequence of a defeat which Pichegru experienced from
General Wurmser. It was now necessary for both the
French armies to recross the river ; and after they had ef-
iected this, and the Austrians had recovered Manheim, an
armistice for three months was agreed to.

In the mean time, the Directory and the Jacobins were

continually at variance, and, as usual, each endeavoured
to enlist the citizens of Paris in their favour. The more
respectable classes were decidedly inclined to support the
directory; but the mob, and the Legion of Police, as they
were called, consisting of 10,000 men, were as zealous for
the Jacobins. Relying on these, the latter attempted to
carry into execution a plot, according to which, the mem-
bers of the Directory were to be murdered, and a new di-
rectory and legislature appointed from among the most
violent of their own party ; but the plot was discovered,
and the principal agents in it arrested. On the 9th of June,
this year, the Dauphin died in the temple, and his sister
was soon afterwards delivered up to the Emperor of Gei -
many, in exchange for tlie commissioners, wliom Dumou-
rier had sent prisoners to the Austrians, and for two
Frenchmen, who had been seized on their way to Turkey.

As the campaign of 1795 had terminated unsuccessfully
to the French on the Rhine, the Directory resolved to ex-
ert their utmost endeavours to open that of 1796 in such
a manner, as would restore their superiority, and regain
their conquests. But when they began to examine the
means that they possessed for recruiting the armies, and sup-
plying them with the necessary provisions and stores, they
found a lamentable deficiency of money. The assignats
were excessively depreciated ; nor could their credit be
any longer supported by the most severe decrees, while an
increased issue only augmented the depreciation. It was
therefore resolved, on the 25th of March 1796, to dispose
of the remainder of the church lands; but it seems not to
have entered into the thoughts of the Directory, that, as
the purchase of them would be paid for in jjaper money,
the actual proceeds would amount to very little. As soon
as they found this to be the case, the legislature decreed
that one-fourth of every purchase should be paid in cash ;
and this almost immediately put an entire stop to the sale
of the property, and consequently to this source of re-
venue.

Notwithstanding this disappointment, the French pre-
pared to open the campaign with an immense force. The
army of the Sambie and Meuse, under the command of
Jourdan, was stationed at Dusseldorf andCoblenlz; Moreau
had the command of the army of the Rhine and Moselle,
on the upper Rhine ; and Bonaparte, who had beenjjrought
into notice during the disputes between the Convention
and the Parisians, m the preceding year, had the command
of the third army on the Italian coast, from Nice to Genoa.
The wonderful advantages of Bonaparte in Italy, and the
defeat of Jourdan, and retreat of Moreau, in Germany,
render this campaign extremely interesting and impor-
tant.

As soon as Bonaparte assumed the command, he threat-
ened Genoa. This induced Beaulieu, who commanded
the Austrian troops, to resolve on the attack of the whole
French line ; but the attack being unsuccessful, and part
of his army out-flanked by the French, he was compelled
to retreat. Bonaparte immediately followed up his advan-
tage. On the 14th of April, having broken in between the
Piedmontese and the Austrians, he defeated the former ;
and, by his subsequent success over them, compelled the
King of Sardinia to purchase peace, by the surrender of
Savoy, Nice, &c. The Austrian general, being deserted
by his ally, was now obliged to act on the defensive, and,
for this purpose, took up a strong position behind the Po.
But Bonaparte, instead of crossing that river at Valentia,
which Beaulieu expected he would do, marched into the
dominions of the Duke of Parma, and passed it at Pla-
centia. The Austrian general being thus forced to aban-
don the Po, retreated to the neighbourhood of Lodi, in the
Milanese. The bridge, at this place, over the Adda, was

FRANCE.

351

defended by 30 pieces of cannon, which rendered its pas-
sage so very formidable, tliat all the ollicers whom IJona-
parte consulted, were of opinion it could not be forced ;
but the grenadiers expressing Iheir willingness to under-
take the enterprise, were formed into a close column, and
reached the middle of the bridge unperceived, in conse-
quence of the smoke of the cannon. Here they were mow-
ed down in great numbers, and began to hesitate ; but they
were animated to press on by their officers, and succeeded
in gaining possession of the bridge. The retreat of the
Austrians having been protected by a body of Neapolitan
cavalry, their loss was not so great as that of the French.
The conquest of the Milanese, and of Fcrrara, Bologna,
and Urbino, were the fruits of this victoiy, the Austrians
retiring into the bishopric of Trent. Naples and Tuscany
sought and obtained peace. Tlie siege of Mantua was the
next object of the conquerors ; but they were drawn from
it by the re-advance of the Austrians under General
Wurmser, who had been appointed to supersede Beaulieu.
This general was not moie successful than his predeces-
sor; and being obliged, after repeated defeats, to retire to
the Tyrolese frontier, Mantua was re-invested. After a
month's respite, the armies again tried tlieir strength, and
the Austrians being again defeated, the victors took pos-
session of Trent. They did not, however, at this lime,
long keep possession of this district ; for Wurmser, by his
mancEuvres, drew them out of it; and though he sustain-
ed another defeat, yet, in his retreat, he succeeded in en-
couraging the garrison of Mantua, by throwing himself
into that place. The Austrian army was now placed
under the command of Alvingi, who, at first, was par-
tially successful, but was at length driven across the Brenta
by Bonaparte. Mantua, however, still held out at the end
of the year 1796.

The armistice in Germany terminated on the 3 1st of
May. In consequence of the success of the French at the
commencement of this campaign, the Archduke Charles
left the Palatinate, to force Jourdan down the Rhine. In
this he succeeded ; but in the mean time, Morcau had
crossed that river at Kehl, against him therefore the Arch-
duke thought it proper to advance ; and Jourdan, taking
advantage of this, again crossed the Rhine, and afterwards
the Lahn, and gained possession of Frankfort. The Arch-
duke, apprehensive that Jourdan and Moreau vvould form
a junction, resolved to attack the latter before it took
place; but Moreau anticipated him, and the Austrians
were compelled to retreat. Their army also, which was
opposed to Jourdan, retreated, keeping up, however, a
communication with the main army under the Archduke.
The line of their retreat was through Swabia ; and, by the
end of August, the three republican armies, under Moreau,
Bonaparte, and Jourdan, were possessed of the whole coun-
try from the frontiers of Bohemia to the Adriatic, with the
exception of a part of the Tyrolese. The German prin-
ces took the alarm, and many of them made peace with
France. Had Bonaparte, at this period, been able to have
crossed the Tyrolese, and reached the Danube, the Em-
peror must also have submitted to whatever conditions the
French chose to dictate.

The Archduke Charles being strongly reinforced, en-
deavoured to oppose the advance of Moreau ; but not suc-
ceeding, he crossed the Danube, and attacked Jourdan,
leaving part of his army as a check on Moreau. Jourdan
was now under the necessity of retreating, till, by the
middle of September, he arrived at Coblentz and Dus-
seldorf, from which places he had advanced at the begin-
ning of the campaign.

Moreau, in the mean time, endeavoured to drive before
him the part of the Austrians which were left to watch

him ; but they, having been reinforced, he could not pene-
trate beyond the Iser. His communication with Jourdan
was now completely cut off', and for some weeks he was
ignorant of his fortune or movements. As soon, however,
as he learned that he had been compelled to retreat, he
was sensible that it was absolutely necessary for him to
retreat also. In order to deceive tlie general who was
oi)posed to him, he at first moved as if he meant to pene-
trate further into Austria ; and having thus compelled his
adversary to fall back, he began his retreat between the
Danube at Ulm, and the Lake of Constance. On his rear
the Austrian general hung incessantly : his route through
the Black Forest was occupied by numerous bodies of
Austrians and armed peasantry, while his right flank was
harassed by another army of 24,000 men. Notwithstand-
ing the extreme difficulties of this critical situation, he
continued his retreat in the most excellent order, and actu-
ally more than once turned upon and defeated the army
that was pursuing him. The dreadful passage of the val-
ley of Hell, overhung with lofty mountains, and in some
places only a few fathoms broad, was forced by the centre
of his army in a mass, while the wings opposed the Au-
strian armies that hung on his rear and flanks. On the
15th of October he arrived at Friburg ; but he was .soon
afterwards forced by the Archduke to abandon all his
positions on that side of the Rhine, except Kehl. This
place also the Archduke was resolved to reduce; but not
being able to succeed, and the French, finding their whole
frontier exposed, the latter evacuated it in the beginnings
of 1797.

The first object of the Austrians in 1797, was the relief
of Mantua. General Alvingi's army was upwards of
50,000 strong. At first they were so successful against
a division of Bonaparte's army, that their immediate cap-
ture was expected. As soon as that general was inform-
ed of their ciitical situation, he hastened to their relief.
On the 14th of January, a most obstinate battle took place
at Rivoli. The centre of the French was on the point of
giving way, both their flanks were surrounded, and the
defeat of Bonaparte seemed certain, when, by a masterly
manoeuvre, he completely changed the fortune of the day,
penetrated the right wing of the Austrians at various points,
and threw them into such disorder, that 4000 of them
threw down their arms. On the following day, 6000 more
were surrounded and taken prisoners. Bonaparte now
hastened to meet that part of the Austrian army which was
threatening the lines of the blockade, and succeeded in cap-
turing the whole of them. The defence of Mantua being
now hopeless. General Wurmser capitulated.

The humiliation of the Pope was the next object of
Bonaparte. The forces of his Holiness were soon sub-
dued, and he was compelled to sign a peace, dictated by
the F"rench general.

The French government having failed in their attempt
to reduce the Emperor to submission by the campaign on
the western side of Germany, resolved to penetrate into
his hereditary dominions on the side of Italy. They, there-
fore, sent strong reinforcements to Bonaparte. On the
other hand, the Archduke Charles took the command on
the southern frontiers of Austria ; but, instead of waiting
for the enemy in the mountains, he was directed by the
council of war at Vienna to descend into the plains, and
defend tlie rivers. The consequences of this absurd plan
were fatal to the Austrians, who were driven from all
their positions, and lost their principal magazines. In fif-
teen days Bonaparte took 20,000 prisoners, and effected
the passage of the Alps. His way to Vienna was now
open ; but not insensible of the danger to which even his
successful progress had exposed him, he wrote lo the

352

FRANCE.

Arclichikc on the 31st of March, proposing peace. The
latter replied, that lie had no authority to treat ; and, in
the mean time, the inliabitants of the Tyrol rose-f?; masae.
Neither they, however, nor the regular Austrian armies,
were able to slop the progress of the French, who, on the
2d of April, forced the strong defiles between Friesach
and Newark. This success, and uiiollicr defeat wliich the
Austrians sustained on tlie 4th, induced the Emperor to
treat for peace; and on tlic 19th a preliminary treaty was
signed, by which the French were to retain the Austrian
Netherlands ; and the Milanese, Mantua, Modena, and
Bologna, were to be formed into one state, and to be called
the Cisalpine Republic. This was followed by a definitive
treaty at Campo Foimio, which confirmed these articles,
and gave the French the Venetian islands in the Levant.
While these operations were going on in the south of
Germany, Generals Hoche and Moreau not only pi event-
ed the Austrians on the Rhine from sending reinforce-
ments against Bonaparte, but even gained several advan-
tages over them, and pursued part of them towards the
Danube.

In the midst of these wonderful successes, there were
still divisions and disputes among the members of govern-
ment at Paris. A decided majcu'ity of both councils, as
well as two members of the Directory, were of the Mode-
rate party ; but, in consequence of some violent discussions
respecting finance, and the restoration of the property of
the emigrants, the legislative and executive branches be-
came professed enemies to each other. General Hoche,
■with a division of the army, was brought into the neigh-
bourhood of Paris by the Directory ; and Augereau was
sent for from Italy by the opposite party. The latter sur-
rounded the Thuilleries, and made Pichegru and twelve
more chiefs of the opposite faction prisoners ; Carnot
escaped, but Barthelemy was put under arrest. Shortly
afterwards the councils, in a most arbitrary and tyrannical
manner, voted the transportation to Cayenne of 53 of their
own members, and 12 other persons, among whom were
Barthelemy and Pichegru. In the room of the displaced
directors, the legislature chose Merlin and Francis de
Neufchateau. About this time the negociation with Eng-
land, conducted by Lord Malmsbury, failed.

France was now at peace with all the powers of Europe
except Great Britain. The transactions that took place
between them are recorded elsewhere; we shall therefore
confine ourselves to an account of the conduct of the
French towards the Pope, Switzerland, and Naples, dur-
ing the year 1798. At Rome, some disturbances happen-
ed be I ween the French party and that portion of the in-
liabitants who remained faithful to his Holiness. In the
course of these disturbances a French general was shot,
and Joseph Bonaparte, who was there as plenipotentiary,
demanded his passports, and returned to Paris. The Pope,
alarmed, solicited the protection of Vienna, Spain, Naples,
and Tuscany, but they would not interfere. General Ber-
thier with an army marched against Rome, subverted the
dominion of the Pope, and proclaimed the sovereignty of
the Roman people. Ever since the first successes of Bona-
parte in Italy, the French had instructed their generals to
demand, or take by force, all the most valuable paintings,
antiquities, Sic. ; but on the capture of Rome, these, in-
stead of being sent to Paris, as the spoil of other cities had
been, were sold on the spot.

In Switzerland, French principles had been successfully
propagated; and early in 1798, the Directory resolved to
t^ke advantage of this circumstance, and reduce this coun-
try. A pretence similar to that which they had eagerly
embraced at Rome occurred, and was as eagerly embra-
ced : the Pa}s de Vaud was invaded, and by the end of

January reduced. The senate of Berne now prepared fo.-
an unequal contest; but they soon found, that not only a
large portion of the inhabilants of this canton, but also of
the army, were disaffected. Notwithstanding this, they
imprudently decreed the rising of the people in a mass :
the people did rise, but they dissolved the government.
They were, however, by no means willing that the French
should interfere in their disputes, and therefore offered
terms to tliem, which were rejected. The enemy con-
tinued to advance; the Swiss in vain opposed them, and
injured their own cause by murdering their officers, after
a complete defeat that tliey suffered early in March. Berne
capitulated, and most of the other cantons followed its ex-
ample. A new constitution was framed at Paris for this
country ; but the inhabitants of the smaller and more de-
mocratic cantons refused to accept it, and took up arms.
At their head was Aloys Reding, a man of superior purity
of patriotism and talents ; but all his efforts were unavail-
ing, the confederacy being soon dissolved by the arts and
the overwhelming power of the French. Scarcely, how-
ever, had an accommodation taken place, when new com-
motions arose, which partook of the madness of despair ;
even tlie women rushed in the midst of the battle ; and the
robust mountaineers actually pressed Frenchmen to death
in their arms. The French retaliated, by the infliction of
every species of cruelty that they could devise ; and, after
a short but desperate contest, overthrew the independence
of Switzerland.

The King of Naples having imprudently placed so
much confidence in the consequences of the victory of the
Nile, as to declare war against the French, and to ad-
vance to the re-conquest of Rome, the Directory resolved
to crush him. This was an easy task ; the Neapolitan
troops were few in numbers, and excessively ill disciplin-
ed; they fled before, or weakly opposed, a comparatively
small number of French. Rome was recovered ; Gaeta
surrendered. General Mack, who commanded the Nea-
politan troops, being driven from Capua, and not being able
to depend on his army, surrendered himself, and the offi-
cers of his staff, to the republican general. A short time
before this, the King of Naples having embarked for Sicily,
the loyal populace of that city, and the peasantry of the
adjoining district, attacked the enemy, but being defeated,
the metropolis submitted to the French yoke.

Towards the end of 1798, there were signs of the re-
newal of the confederacy against France. The Russians
had already commenced liostilities in the Levant, soon after
they heard of the victory of the Nile ; and being subsidiz-
ed by Britain, they marched an army of 43,000 men to the
confines of Germany. Austria, however, was at first afraid
to engage in a new contest : but not giving a satisfactory
answer to the French, who declared that the entrance of
the Russian troops into Germany would be considered as
a declaration of war, the Directory, on the 13th of March,
1799, ordered the commencement of hostilities, not only
against the Emperor, but also against the Grand Duke of
Tuscany. At the commencement of this war, the pros-
pects of the French were very flattering, and they possess-
ed many advantages which they had not during the previ-
ous contest. They were very powerful on the Rhine, by
the occupation of Dusseldorf and Mentz. They also had
the command of Switzerland, and all the strong places in
the north of Italy. Their first object was to obtain pos-
session of the Grison country, that a communication might
be preserved with Germany. Massena advanced for this
purpose ; while Jourdan, wlio commanded on the Upper
Rhine, advanced on his side, in order to meet him. Masse-
na soon reduced the Grisons ; but he was defeated in his
next enterprise, the reduction of the post of Feldrich,

FRANCE.

>5o

uliich was held by the Austrian gencrul Ilotzc, The Aiis-
tiians, bowcvci', could reap little advantage iVoni this suc-
cess, but deemed it prudent to retreat into the Tyrol. The
Archduke was opposed lo Jourdan, and be was more suc-
cessful ; the French general being obliged to retreat with
considerable loss. Jourdan was soon afterwards removed,
and IMasscna appointed to command his army.

But the most important scene of operations this year
■was Italy, where the Austrians were successful in several
engagements, even before the junction of the Russians.
This event took place about the beginning of April, and
Suwarrow, who assumed the command of the combined ar-
my, resolved to pursue a bold plan of operations. Moreau
was opposed to him, but the Russian general deceived his
adversary, drove him from his entrenchments on the Adda,
and obliged him to retreat to Pavia, after having suffered a
dreadful loss. Moreau shortly afterwards gained some
successes over a detached part of the Russian army, but
Suwarrow advancing, he was obliged to continue his re-
treat. At this crisis, Macdonald, who commanded the
French army in the south of Italy, pushed forward for the
purpose of joining Moreau. But he found that it would
be previously necessary to attack the allies : and Moreau
endeavoured, by circulating a report tliat he was about to
receive reinforcements, to withdraw the attention of Suwar-
row from Macdonald. The latter began his operations on
the I'ithof June; and succeeded so far as to enter into Parma
on the I4th ; but his progress was arrested on the 17th. As
soon as Suwarrow was informed of his advance, he left
Turin at the head of 20,000, and came up with him on the
banks of the Tedone : for three days, there was a succession
of desperate battles ; and the victory was at last obtained
by the Russians, in consequence of General Kray, who
commanded the army besieging Mantua, arriving, in direct
opposition to his orders, with large reinforcements. Su-
warrow was indefatigable in his pursuit of the beaten army,
and having surrounded their rear guard, it was obliged to
surrender : the remainder took refuge in the Apennines
and in the Genoese territory. Moreau, in the mean time,
was victorious over the Austrian general Bellegarde ; but
liis victory availed little, in consequence of the success of
Suwarrow, and the Italian fortressess fell into the hands
of the allies. Soon afterwards, in consequence of a poli-
tical change in Paris, Joubert was ordered to supersede
Moreau, who, however, continued in the army as a volun-
teer. It was the plan of Joubert to bring Suwarrow to
battle as speedily as possible ; and being reinforced by the
remains of Macdonald's army, he succeeded in his plan at
Novi, on the I5th of August. Scarcely had the engage-
ment commenced, when Joubert was killed, and Moreau
resumed the command: the victory was doubtful, till it
was decided by the right flank of the French being turned.
This division immediately fled, and the rest of the army
joined in the retreat, which they continued till they took
up a strong position in the Genoese territory. The sur-
render of Tottona was almost the only result of this victory.

The Directory, thus unsuccessful in Italy, resolved to
make Switzerland the grand scene of operations, and to
adopt a new plan. In the month of August, Massena had
the command here of 70,000 men ; and being superior to
the Archduke, whose position he threatened, Suwarrow
marched to his relief. But the cabinet of Austria, jealous
of the success of the Russian general, ordered the Arch-
duke to go into Suabia with upwards of 50,000 men, and
Switzerland was thus left exposed. Of this Massena re-
solved to take advantage, by attacking the remainder of
the Austrian army before Suwarrow joined them. The
French were successful, though the combat was long and
obstinate. Massena next advanced to meet Suwarrow ;

Vol. IX. Part. I.

and surrounded him in such a m;ini]cr that it was llioughi
impossible he should escape; but that general having dis-
covered one pass in llie mountains unoccupied by the
French, he made his way through it, with tlie loss of his
cannon and baggage. Disgusted and indigr.ant at the
want of support from the Austrians, he withdrew his for-
ces to the neighbouriiood of Augsburg, and transmitted
his corjiplaiiits to Petersburg. In the mean time, the Di-
rectory liad sunk into contempt; and by tlieir disputes
among themselves, as well as the imbecility of their con-
duct, promised an easy overtlirow to any daiing adventurer.
Such a man was Bonaparte, who at this time returned
from his expedition to Egypt; an account of wliich i'
given in the Histories of that country and of Britai.v
Bonaparte had several friends in the councils and Dircc
tory, the most active of whom were Sieyes and Talleyrand
After several discussions, they resolved that a consulate
should be formed, and Bonaparte placed at its head. This
scheme was concealed from Moreau, Berthier, and the
other generals who were then in Paris. The majority of
the assembly of Elders agreed to the proposal ; but as the
Jacobins preponderated in the Council of Five Hundred,
they resisted it ; Bonaparte, however, rushed into their
hall, while they were deliberating, on the 10th of Novem-
ber, 1799, with a military force, and expelled the members,
Three chief magistrates were appointed, with the appella-
tion of Consuls, of whom Bonaparte v;as at the head, and
Cambaceres and Lebrun the other two. Tlie senate was to
be composed of 80 individuals; 100 were to form a tribu-
nate, and 300 a legislative body. In order to render this
violent change of the constitution less obnoxious, it was
decreed that the First Consul should hold his office only for
ten years, and the other two for five years. This change
was defended, on the ground that it was necessary to give
to the government a greater degree of consistency and sta-
bility than it had hitherto possessed.

One of the first measures of Bonaparte, after he had
gained the supreme power, was to propose peace to Bri-
tain ; but his proposal being rejected, he began vigorous
and extensive preparations for hostilities in Italy, and on
the Rhine; while an army of reserve, amounting to 60,000
men, was ordered to be assembled at Dijon, under his im-
mediate command.

In Italy, at the beginning of 1800, the French retained
scarcely any of their conquests, except the republic of
Genoa, and this the Austrians were preparing to wrest
from them. In the city of Genoa, Massena took the com-
mand, and resolved to defend it to the last extremity. In
the beginning of April, the Austrian general Mclas, and a
British fleet, invested it so completely, that the communi-
cation with France was cut ofl". General Melas having
thus prevented the possibility of its relief, left some troops
before it, and marched with the main body against tlie
French general Suchet, whom, on the 7tli of May, he to-
tally defeated. In consequence of this defeat they crossed
the Var, and entered France, and the Austrian- general
became master of the whole department of the maritime
Alps.

On the Rhine, general Moreau was opposed to general
Kray; but the latter was fettered by the orders which he
received from the council of war at Vienna, whereas Mo-
reau refused to act according to the instructions sent him
by the Chief Consul, except where his own judgment and
oljservation convinced him they were wise and practicable.
The plan of Moreau was to cross the Rhine; in this he
succeeded, and drove Kray before him as far as Ulm: liere
he fortified himself; but INIoreau, manoeuvring in such a
manner as to threaten to cut him off from his magazines,
the Austrians were obliged to fight at Hochstet. The

Y y

!54

FRANCE.

French were virtoiious, and the Austrian general, after in
vain endeavoui injj to oppose the enemy again at Newburg,
was obliged to fall back to Ingolstadl. The electorate of
Bavaria was conquered : the hereditary dominions of Aus-
tria were threatened, and at Vienna the populace demand-
ed peace.

The affairs of Austria were not more promising on the
bide of Italy. The army of reserve that had been collect-
ed at Dijon, marched, as soon as the campaign opened on
the Rhine, towards Italy. The First Consul joined them
near the Lake of Geneva ; and the passage of the Alps
was immediately prepared to be undertaken. The diffi-
culties only served to stimulate the ambition, the energy,
and tlic talents of Bonaparte. The trunks of trees were
hollowed into the forms of troughs, tiiat the cannon might
slide along in them ; the gun carriages were conveyed on
sledges, and the wheels on poles. Their passage was over
Mount St Bernard, which the men could only ascend one
by one, moving with the utmost caution. The descent was
still more dangerous ; but so admirably were the measures
of Bonaparte planned and executed, that scarcely any
lives were lost ; and none of the cannon or provisions were
left behind. Thus was effected the passage of a numerous
and well-appointed army over the Alps, — an enterprise so
extraordinary, that the Austrians, from a firm conviction
that it was absolutely impracticable, never thought of op-
posing it. Aosta, the fort of Bard, Ivria, Romagno, and
Vercelli, were taken. The Tesslno was crossed ; Milan
entered without opposition ; valuable magazines were cap-
tured at Pavia ; and Placentia fell into the possession of
Bonaparte, who, by his sudden and unexpected appearance,
and by his subsequent masterly manceuvres, completely
out-generalled Melas.

He did not arrive, however, in time to relieve Genoa ;
for Massena, after one of the most obstinate defences re-
corded in history, during which 15,000 of the inhabitants
are said to have perished by disease and famine, was com-
pelled to surrender to the Austrian and British command-
ers on the 5th of- June. As soon as Genoa fell, Melas dis-
patched General Ott with 30 battalions to check the pro-
gress of the French, who hitherto had not penetrated fur-
ther than Piedmont ; but that general having suffered a
dreadful defeat at Mon Abello, Melas collected his whole
force between AUessandria and Tortona. Here, on the
14th of June, was fought the battle of Marengo : for nine
hours the Austrians were victorious ; but an imprudent
or unskilful movement of General Melas, which was in-
stantly taken advantage of by General Dcssaix, who made
a vigorous charge with a body of fresh cavalry, turned the
fate of the day. The victory was purchased by the death
of Dessaix, to whose memory due honours were paid by
his grateful countrymen.

The Austrian general, intimidated by his defeat, re-
quested a truce, which was granted on condition that Ge-
noa should be surrendered, as well as the principal for-
tresses in Piedmont and the Milanese. General Kray was
desirous of extending this armistice to Germany, but to
this Moreau would not consent; and two battles were
fought without much advantage on either side. The
French, however, persevered in their attacks, and at length
opened themselves a passage into the heart of Bavaria. At
this period, Count St Julien arrived with proposals of
j>eace from the cabinet of Vienna, and the armistice was
extended to Germany, This armistice did not lead to
peace, for the Emperor, encouraged by Britain, resolved to
try the chances of another campaign : hostilities, there-
fore, recommenced in the autumn. At first Moreau was
surprised by the activity, and nearly defeated by the im-
petuosity of the Austrians; but the Austrian general aban-

doning his strong position, the fatal battle of Hohenlinden
was fought on the 3d of December. In this battle, the
Austrian centre was pierced, and their wings thrown into
confusion ; their loss was dreadful ; their route complete.
Pushing into Upper Austria, the victorious French reach-
ed the banks of the Fms. The cabinet of Vienna was
alarmed; the Archduke, who had been deprived of the
command of the army, was recalled ; but all his skill and
cd'orls were in vain; and the Emperor mournfully saw
that peace alone could save him from utter destruction.
The treaty of Luneville was the consequence.

Soon after Mr Addington became prime minister of Bri-
tain, a negociation was opened with France, which termi-
nated in the peace of Amiens, on the 22d of March 1802.

At this period, the territories of the French republic
were very extensive, and her power extended even beyond
these territories. With France, as it existed previously to
the Revolution, was incorporated the Netherlands, and that
part of Germany which lies on the west of the Rhine, as
well as Geneva, the duchy of Savoy, and the principality of
Piedmont. The Dutch republic was completely subser-
vient to the will of France; the Swiss possessed scarcely a
larger portion of national independence. Spain, under the
appellation of an ally, was in fact a vassal state. The Cis-
alpine republic was completely under the yoke of the First
Consul, who had been appointed its President for ten years,
'i'his republic not only comprehended the Milanese, but
also a considerable part of the Venetian territories, the
duchies of Mantua, ^lodena, and Parma, and some of the
districts which had belonged to Rome. A vassal king go-
verned Tuscany, which was thus in reality placed under
the power of France ; and the Ligurian republic was equal-
ly subservient. Over all this immense tract of country,
therefore, extending from the Ems to the Straits of Gibral-
tar, and from the Atlantic to the Adriatic, did Bonaparte,
as First C^onsul of France, exercise an absolute sway.

But his power, in fact, was not limited, even when this
immense territory was included within it. The Emperor
of Germany and the German Princes had suffered so much
from French invasion, that they durst not question the au-
thority of Bonaparte ; the King of Prussia had very recent-
ly displayed his devotion to his wishes, as well as an un-
just regard to his own interest, by the seizure of Hanover;
and the new Emperor of Russia was too recently and mys-
teriously fixed on the throne, to come forward against the
power of France.

Britain alone, therefore, which had so long, and with such
wonderful perseverance and sacrifices, resisted France,
came out of the contest untouched in her national inde-
pendence.

One of the first nieasuies of Bonaparte, after be had
placed France at peace with all her enemies, was the re-
establishment of the Catholic religion. For this purpose,
a concordat or convention was concluded between him and
the Pope, of which the following are the most important
articles. No bull, &c. of the court of Rome, to be circu-
lated or put in force without the authority of government :
No nuncio, legate, &c. to exercise his functions in France,
without the consent of tlie government : No person to be
named a bishop who is not a Frenchman : No bishop to
quit his diocese, without leave from the First Consul : No
festival, with the exception of the Sabbath, shall be esta-
blished without the permission of government. The nup-
tial benediction shall be given to those only, wlio shall
prove in due form that their marriage has been contracted
before a civil magistrate. All religions were tolerated and
protected, and special rules were laid down for their gui-
dance.

By this concordat, Bonaparte gained great popularity

FRANCE.

355

with the mass of the twlioii ; and as he wns almost idolized
by the soldiers, he experienced no difiicuhy in increasing
his power. When he was chosen fiist consul, ten yeara
■were to be the duration of his authoiity ; he was now, how-
ever, appointed lor life, and the power conferred upon him
of nominatins^ his successor. Shortly after this, his plans
for another war began to develope themselves. On the
aist of February 1803, a view of the state of France was
laid before the Legislative IJody and the Tribunate, the
most interesting and important part of which related to the
dispute with Britain, regarding the retention of Malta.
The nature and result of this dispute, we shall not here en-
ter into, as they, as well as the subsequent war, are fully
narrated in the History of Britain. As soon as Bonaparte
resolved on hostilities with Britain, he marched an army
into Osnaburgh and Hanover, and gained possession of
these districts without opposition. On the 25th of April
1804, he was declared Emperor, by a decree of the Tri-
bunate of France, to the following purpose.

When the national will (it was said) could manifest it-
self freely, it declared for the unity of the supreme power,
and the hereditary succession of that power. This desire
had been for a time extinguished by the tyranny of the fa-
mily of the Bourbons, and the nation were driven to adopt
a democratical form of government ; from this form, how-
ever, only the miseiies of anarchy proceeded ; and the state
was in the most extreme danger, when " Bonaparte,
brought back by Providence, suddenly appeared for its sal-
vation:" That the consulship for life, and the power grant-
ed to the First Consul of appointing his successor, could
not prevent internal intrigues ; in order, therefore, to avoid
them, and at the same time to follow the example of all
great states, ancient and modern, and to comply with the
first >vish of the nation expressed in 1789, the magistracy
ought to be declared hereditary. This declaration the na-
tion now makes more strongly and generally than ever ;
and her gratitude and affection point out Bonaparte, y>o/ra
".I'hoin and hU family France exjiectSi more than any other,
the maintenance of the rights and liberties of the /leo/ile :
That there is no title more suitable to his glory, and to the
dignity of the supreme chief of the French nation, than that
of Emperor.

Such was the decree of the Tribunate, which was fol-
lowed by voting, " that Napoleon Bonaparte, the First Con-
sul, be ])roclaimed emperor of the French, and in that capa-
city be invested with the government of the French Repub-
lic :" " That the tiile of Emperor, and the imperial power,
be made liereditary in his family in the male line, accord-
ing to the order of primogeniture."

This vote was carried by acclamation, Carnot being the
only person v/ho spoke against its adoptien. The Senate
and the army followed the example of the Tribunate, in-
treating Bonaparte to become Emperor of France. Thus
easily and tranquilly did Bonaparte obtain the object of his
desires.

As he had been long married without children, he was
allowed to adopt the children or grandchildren of his bro-
thers, when they arrived at the age of eighteen, provided
he had no legitimate children. On the failure of both le-
gitimate and adopted heirs, the crown was to be enjoyed
by his eldest brother Joseph, and his descendants ; and,
failing them, by his next brother, and his descendants, &c.
The members of the imperial family were to be called
French Princes, and the eldest son the Imperial Prince.
Every Emperor, within two years after he came to the
throne, was to swear to maintain the integrity of the French
empire.

Thus that revolution, which was begun for the express
purpose of establishing a free government, — which, shortly

after its commencement, destroyed the king and the mo-
narchy, and during which the very suspicion of being at-
tached to the royal cause exposed the suspected party to
certain death, terminated in the establishment of a military
despotism.

We have hitherto deferred entering into a developemcnt
and explanation of the causes which produced either di-
rectly or indirectly, or generally or partially, this revolu-
tion, as well as of the causes to which we ought to ascribe
the rapid and total change in the nation, from an apparent-
ly strong and sincere attachment to liberty, to at least an
acquiescence in military despotism ; and of those causes
which contributed to the astonishing, and almost unparal-
leled successes and victories of the French arms. All
these we have hitherto deferred entering upon, in order
that we might view them in connection with each other ;
for, in our opinion, these three events are intimately and
necessarily connected, springing out of each other, as well
as all of them, in some measure, originating from the same
circumstances. We shall now consider them in their or-
der.

I. With respect to the causes which produced the
French revolution, either directly or indirectly, either par-
tially or generally, in France, it may be proper to premise
some general remarks on the causes which alter the cha-
racter or fate of nations. Before philosophy had lent her
aid to the lessons of experience and observation, so as to
draw from them their legitimate consequences, it was sup-
posed that the fate of a nation depended on the character
and conduct of the leading individual or individuals in it;
and when that cliaractcr and conduct were pointed out and
explained, it was taken for granted, that the particular cir-
cumstances inthe national history, which had attracted atten-
tion from their extraordinary nature, were also sufficiently ac-
counted for. But philosophy taught, that no individual can
operate changes, or produce efiects of an extraordinary na-
ture, in any country, unless he act on materials suited to his
purpose ; and that, as he must have been formed by the pre-
vailing spirit and habits of the nation on which he is suppo-
sed to operate, the very existence of such a character as his,
is a proof that tlic nation was tending towards that change,
which was solely attributed to the influence of his character
and efforts. We must, however, guard against going into
the extreme of this opinion ; for there can be no doubt,
that though favourable circumatances must pre-exist, be-
fore any individual can radically affect the character, or pro-
duce any great change in the fate, of a nation, yet, on the
other hand, something ought to be ascribed to the influence
of individual character. Perhaps a more striking proof of
this cannot be exhibited, than what the history of Prussia
afferds us: During the reign of Frederic the Great, this
kingdom stood high in the rank of nations in a military
point of view. That the Prussians possessed the requisites
for making good soldiers, is admitted ; but it may surely
be questioned, whether, if Frederic the Great had not been
the character he was, Prussia would have gained the pre-
eminence she did in warfare, or the advanta^^^is resulting
from that pre-eminence. That this opinion is correct, the
history of Prussia, after the death of this king, sufficiently
proves: another sovereign, of a different character, or,
more properly speaking, of different talents and habits,
ascended the throne, and Prussia immediately sunk in the
scale of nations. Perhaps the legitimate conclusion to bo
drawn, is, that in nations highly civilized and enlightened,
in which almost every individual has an independent poli-
tical existence, and regards himself as a component part of
the government, individuals can do little or nothing except
through the instrumentality of the nation, by conforming
to its charrcter, and employing its prejudices and feelings
Yy'2

356

FRANCE.

in the schemes wiiich ihey are clesirous to carry into exe-
cution; whereas in a nation, riulc, ignorant, and barbarous,
in which the great mass of the iiatiun have no conception
that they have any right to interfere in the conduct ol their
governors, events are much more, though still not by any
means entirely, under tlie influence and direction ot indi-
vidual character.

Let us now consider the revolution of Trance with re-
ference to these observations, and the causes which have
been supposed to liave produced that event.

In the first place, much has been ascribed to the influ-
ence which the writings of such men as Montesquieu, Vol-
taire, Rousseau, Ilclvetius, he. produced on the opinions
and wishes of the French people ; but it should be recol-
lected, that on the mass of the people these writings could
have little or no influence, as by few of them tliey were
read, nor could they have been understood had they been
read. The hypothesis that ascribes the French revohilion
to this cause, confounds two distinct circumstances ; or
rather supposes, that when it has accounted for one part of
the phenomenon, it has accounted for the whole. The
events of the revolution sufficiently prove, that, even at its
commencement, it was indicated not more by a change in
the character, opinions, and conduct, of the more intelli-
gent classes of the French community, than by a change in
the characters, opinions, and conduct, of the great mass of
the people, on whom the writings of the philosophers could
have had no influence. While, therefore, we may regard
these writings as having prepared the way, in some degree,
for the revolution, among the higher and more intelligent
classes, we ought not to consider tliem as being- exclusive-
ly the cause, even with regard to them, and certainly as by
no means the cause with regard to the mass of the people.
Nearly the same remarks will apply to the second cause
to which the French revolution has been attributed. It has
been said, that, by the return of the officers and soldiers
who served in America, principles and feelings of liberty
were spread over France, which, meeting with favouiablc
circumstances, developed themselves, and by their opera-
tion ultimately overthrew the government. But, in the
first place, it may well be doubted whether any great num-
ijer of the officers and soldiers who bad served in America
imbibed principles and feelings of liberty tlicre. The mi-
litary certainly (especially in France at that period) seldom
pay much regard to the nature of the cause for wiiich they
fight, or feel much sympathy for liberty. Some, no doubt
went to America from the laudable desire of assisting in
establishing the independence of that country : and many
who went from other motives, may have returned with a
change in their sentiments favourable to liberty ; but there
can be no doubt that by far the greater proportion went to
America because they were ordered by their government;
fought there, as they would have fought in any other coun-
try ; and returned from this, as they would have returned
from any other war. In the second place, even allowing
that the returned oflicers and soldiers very generally im-
bibed the spirit of liberty, yet it by no means follows that
they had it in their power to infuse this spirit into any large
portion of their countrymen. Indeed, the remarks of tra-
vellers confirm this; for while, even before the American
war, and much more so after it, they observe, that very free
notions respecting government and religion were prevalent
among the higlier classes of the French nation, they do not
mention that such notions were entertained by the mass of
the people ; and we should recollect, that in France, at this
time, there was no middle class in the country at large.

The next cause which we shall consider, attributes the
Revolution to the despotism of the government. That the
government of France was in its nature despotic, cannot

be denied; but it is equally certain, that at the i)eriod of
the Revolution, this despotic governrricnt was exercised
with more regard to the freedom and the happiness of the
subject, than it had ever been at any previous period. To
this cause, therefore, ihe Revolution cannot be asciibcd.

From the preceding observations, it will be sufliciently
apparent, that in tracing and explaining the causes of the
Revolution, wc must discriminate, and consider apart se-
veral .circumstances that have too often been confounded;
namely, the causes which operated to produce the Revolu-
tion, as they existed in the higher and more enlightened
classes of the community; those which existed and ope-
rated in the great mass of the peoi)le ; and the circumstan-
ces in which the nation was placed, which allowed or en-
couraged these distinct causes to operate together with the
fullest eflect.

In the first place, the causes which operated to produce
the Revolution as they existed in rac higher and more en-
lightened classes of the commujiity, may be divided into
two kinds; those which originated from principles and feel-
ings of liberty, and those which originated solely from a
desire to throw off" particular grievances. Wc liave already
admitted, that the writings of the French philosophers had
disseminated among these classes, very free notions on the
subjects of government and religion ; and that the return
of the army fiom America may have tended still farther to
confirm and propagate liberal ideas on government. But
there were many descriptions of men in France, who, in
addition to, or independently o.*", their attachment to the
cause of liberty, were anxioui to free themselves from par-
ticular grievances. The nobility were anxious to regain
those privileges of which they had been stript by the crown.
The provincial noblesse beheld with contempt and indigna-
tion the follies, the profligacy, and the power of the higher
nobility. The inferior clergy regarded tlicir superiors with
the same feelings; but, more especially, " the practising
lawyers, almost entirely excluded from the chance of be-
coming judges, wished eagerly for a change of affairs, not
doubting that tlieir talents and professional skill would ren-
der them necessary amidst any alterations that might oc-
cur." In short, there was a mutual repulsion among the
leading classes of the community, arising from a change in
their feelings and wishes, williout this change being accom-
panied by a corresponding change in their situation, or in
the conduct of government towards them.

It ought also to be stated, that besides those who wish-
ed, or were prepared for a Revolution, expecting from it,
either the realization of their schemes and hopes respect-
ing liberty, or the removal of their particular grievances,
there were, in Paris particularly, an immense number of
desperate and unprincipled persons, who eagerly looked
forward to a convulsion which they had no doubt would be
the accompaniment of a Revolution, and from which they
anticipated the full indulgence of their most violent and de-
praved passions.

The causes which revolutionized the great mass of the
people, are quite distinct from those we have just enume-
rated. When, indeed, the first symptoms of the Revolu-
tion became manifest, many thought it would not spread
over the nation, when they reflected how ignorant the peo-
ple were, how blJndly and obstinately attached to old estab-
lishments, how passionately devoted to their monarch, and
every thing that concerned him; and that though oppress-
ed by the nobility, and neglected by the government, they
seemed quite insensible to the miseries of their condition.
and exhibited more striking symptoms of content and hap-
piness than nations much freer and more highly favoured.
IIow then were such a people changed, and changed so
completely, as to hear of the execution of their monarch

FRANCE.

357

wilh exultation? The cause when explaiiiccl is very sim-
ple. The peasantry, though acciistonicil, were not utterly
insensible to the tyranny of the nobles ; nor could they be-
hold with inclifFerencc, scenes of pi'onigatc and wanton ex-
travagance displayed at their chatcaus, at the very time
when their own cottages were the abode of misery and fa-
mine. TI':Ough utterly ignorant of the meaning of political
liljerty, they knew what was meant by being freed from the
oppresssions, taxes, and vexations to which they were sub-
ject, and still more keenly did they enter into the prospect
of having it in their power to retaliate on tlic nobility the
evils they had suffered from them. In short, at the com-
mencement of the Revolution, tiicy received, or seized on
power; and very naturally became attached to that event,
from which such a blessing in their estimation proceeded.
Had the Revolution only promised them political liberty,
they would have regarded it with indifference; with them
it would have found no supporters; but addressing itself
to their passions and feelings, they rose in favour of it, and
in their exultation, at tlieir liberation from oppressions un-
der which they had long groaned, and at tlic ruin of those
who had regarded their misery with indifference, or per-
haps essentially contributed towards it, they forgot their
loyalty, and beheld in their monarch only the chief of their
oppressors.

We are now to consider the circumstances in which the
nation was placed, which allowed or encouraged tliose dis-
tinct causes to operate together with the fullest eflect.

We have already noticed the embarrassed state of the
French finances at the termination of the American war in
1783 ; and that the government, finding all their plans in-
effectual towards the bringing them into order, were at last
compelled to assemble the Notables. Thus were collected
at Paris most of those men who were desirous of a change ;
and who beheld themselves in a condition, from the wants
of the government, the appeal which had been made to
tliem to suggest measures for the supply of those wants,
and their own strengtli, to use their ellbrts for the accom-
plishment of their wishes. Their objects, indeed, might
fliffer; for while some wished merely to curtail the power
of the crown, in order to restore tlie privileges of the no-
bility ; others wished to attack the power and privileges
Ijoth of the crown and the nobility. Under these circum-
stances, it is evident, that the former was placed in a situa-
tion of great peril, and that the objects of the nobility were
not so likely to be attained as those of the other party, since
they had to concert their measures in such a manner as at
the same time to act against the crown and against that par-
ty. But in this view of the causes of the Revolution, the na-
ture of the place, where those desirous of a change were as-
sembled, must- be taken into consideration. In countries,
where the mass of the people have been long habituated to
regard themselves as interested in the acts of the govern-
ment, and privileged to express their wishes and opinions re-
garding those acts, itls impossible that the population of the
capital, however numerous or intriguing, should possess an
undue share of influence ; but the case is different in coun-
tries where the people do not think themselvesauthorisedor
qualified to discuss the measures of their rulers, especially
if the connection and communication between the capital and
the provinces is by no means intimate, regular, and frequent.
In such countries, the population of the capital gives the
colour and tone to the feelings and actions of the popula-
tion of the provinces; and whoever wields it, wields a ma-
chine, by means of which he may almost certainly succeed
in overthrowing the government of the country. This was
very strikingly the case in Paris, not merely from the poli-
tical ignorance and bondage in which the people of France
had long been kept, but also from the peculiar character

of the i)opulation of the capital; in which, oven before the
lievolution, there was to be found a greater laxity of prin-
cijjles and conduct, and more intrigue, restlessness, and
systematic depravity, tliau existed in any other capital of
Kurojic. There was also in it a larger number of what are
called men of letters, who would willingly lend their talents
to the propagation and support of any doctiines, to the re-
commendation of any schemes or acts, however unjust or
pernicious.

It is not to be wondered at, therefore, if all the parties in
the Revolution aimed principally at gaining over the popu-
lation of Paris, which, both from its inlluence as the popu-
lation of the capital of France, and from its peculiar fitness
for being acted upon in such a state of things, could not fail
to be of essential service to their views.

Those who first appeared as the leading actors in the
tremendous drama of the French Revolution, were, it may
be allowed, without any great stretch of candour, men who
at least did not contemplate or approve of violent and un-
just changes in the state ; but at the same time it m\ist also
be urged against them, that they came to the task totally and
lamentably unprepared for it ; unprepared by their general
ignorance of human nature — by their ignorance of the
sound and practicable principles of government — and most
of all, by their ignorance of their own unfitness, and of the
total want of preparation in the French people, even for
gradual and moderate reform. Thus ignorant, they roused
and armed the worst passions of the multitude ; they instill-
ed into them a love of change, and they taught them their
own power. The consequences were such as might be
expected, when we reflect on the character of the popula-
tion of Paris, on whom they at first acted, and who after-
wards became the instruments of more daring and unprin-
cipled leaders.

Still, however, it must be admitted, that it is difiicult to
trace the formation, or understand the real features of the
characters of such men as Roberspierre, Danton, Marat,
Sec. That they were almost unparalleled in cruelty ; that
they had no conception of the obligations of truth and jus-
tice, is too apparent : but these horrid qualities were
strangely mixed with some species of patriotism ; and even
in the midst of unlimited power, they seem to have had little
or no ambition, and certainly made no attempts to enrich
themselves.

II. With respect to the causes of the wonderful military
successes of the French, it appears to us that three causes
principally contributed to these successes.

In the first place, long- previous to the revolution, cer-
tainly as far back as the reign of Louis XIV. the French
nation, of all ranks and classes, the poorest and most op-
pressed equally with the richest and most highly privileg-
ed, have been distinguished by their love of glory, and by
a hope, sometimes weak and evanescent, at other times
strong and prevailing, but never totally extinguished, that
their nation was destined for universal empire. This has
been their predominant and characteristic passion; and this
passion has been strengthened and encouraged by all the
circumstances of the Revolution.

For, in the second place, there came in aid of this pas-
sion, the strong feeling of national independence, which all
nations, even the most barbarous and enslaved, possess ia
a greater or less degree. Wc have already stated our be-
lief, that the bulk of the French people were so ignorant,
and had been so long habituated to political slavery, that
they could form no idea of political liberty ; and conse-
quently to promise it to them, was to promise them that
which could neither excite their hopes nor enter into
their conceptions. But, as soon as they understood that
their country was about to be attacked, that powerful and

!53

FRANCE.

almost instinctive love of national independence, wliich
operates in the breasts of the inhabitants of all countries,
broke forth in an enthusiastic determination, not to allow
foreigners to invade and overrun tlicir country. In the case
of France, too, this love of nationl independence was great-
ly aided by their love of national glory. They couUl not
brook the idea, that I'rancc, the Cireat Nation, destined for
universal empire, should become the vassal state, or even
the temporary, and degraded conquest of any foreign pow-
er. Besides, as the mass of the people had tasted of some
of the beneficial clTccts of the Uevolvition, in the abolition
of feudal services, and of those oppressions which are
much more acutely and generally felt, than the want of po-
litical independence and liberty, by the people at large, in
all countries, they were roused to defend the cause and ex-
istence of that Revolution; knowing, that if they did not
succeed, they would be reduced to their former state of
degradation and misery.

In the third place, it was of the very essence of the Re-
volution, to create, or, more properly speaking, to nourish
and bring forth to notice, and reward, talents of every de-
scription ; and these talents were directed with single and
undeviating energy and perseverance to one end. The
military ardour, which was at first excited by the love of
glory, and the wish to be instrumental in rendering France
mistress of the world, and by the determination not to per-
mit foreign nations to destroy her national independence,
or the effects of the Revolution, was cherished and strengtli-
cned by the conviction, that the path to the highest com-
mands was open to talents and merit. Thus her armies
were filled with soldiers, who despised death, and who
fought with that enthusiasm which such passions and hopes
naturally produced ; while they were led by officers, select-
ed solely on account of their merit and fitness, for the com-
mand to which they were appointed. At the head of the
government also, there were at almost every period of the
Revolution, men admirably calculated to direct the efforts
of the great machine which the Revolution had put in mo-
tion. Even the despotic and arbitrary nature of this govern-
ment, such as it existed in the time of Roberspierre, con-
tributed to the success of their arms ; for it was the energy
and secrecy of despotism directing the enthusiasm of the
love of glory and national independence.

When we reflect therefore on the operation of all these
causes ; that nearly the whole powers, both mental and cor-
poreal, of a populous nation, were directed to one object,
in the attainment of which all were convinced they had the
highest interest, and that all classes were further stimulat-
ed to exertion and perseverance, by the knowledge, that,
while they were securing the national interest, and the li-
berties which the Revolution had brought them, they were
treading the path which would certainly conduct them to
a higher rank and influence in the state tljan thsy previous-
ly possessed, we shall not be astonished at their military
successes. But, in order more thoroughly to develope
ihe causes of these successes, we should reflect on the
enemies they had to contend with. In the first place, the
people of most of the countries which they invaded were
disposed to receive them as friends, from a belief that they
came to destroy all the oppressions under which they suf-
fered. In the second place, the councils and armies of
their opponents were directed by much inferior talents, and
by men who, besides their inferiority in talents, did not feel
the operation of the same powerful motives for exertion and
perseverence. There is also good reason to believe, that
many of them proved traitors to their country, and fell be-
fore the influence of French gold, not less than by the su-
periority of the French arras. Lastly, France was a single
power against a combination of powei s : the pressure of

every defeat, brought into more close and comp?.ct union
all the members that formed her commonwealth, while
sTiccess, speaking powerfully to their love of national glo-
ry, erpially produced the same effect. On the contrary, the
combined powers had williin them the elements of discor-
dance and disunion ; they were jealous of each other, and
strongly disposed to separate, either after defeat or success.
Their sense of the common danger to which they were all
cxijoscd from the French Revolution, was not sufliciently
strong, or so continually present to their apprehensions, as to
banish their mutual jealousy ; while their selfish views too
plainly proved, that if they succeeded in putting down the
Revolution, they would not fail to quarrel among them-
selves about the spoil. Such appear to us to have been the
principal causes which produced the military successes of
the French. On their side, great enthusiasm, great talents,
great exertion and perseverance, the strong motives of per-
sonal ambition, and the love of national glory and indepen-
dence, all operating to one single object. On the side of the
allies,talentsneglected,and prcjudicies hurtful totheir cause
persevered in ; no common bond of union ; mutual suspi-
cion and jealousy ; an inadequate sense of their own dan-
ger; and treachery and disaflection among their subjects.

III. With respect to the change of the French govern-
ment, from a democratic form at least to a military des-
potism, it will be found, on examination, not to have been
great in reality, and that the change which actually took
place was produced by the operation of very simple and
natural causes.

In the first place, the real change was not great ; for it
would be difficult to point out any period of the Revolu-
tion, in which the people were not subjected to a most ar-
bitrary government — a government which well fitted them
even for a military despotism. We shall not examine whe-
ther the state of France, threatened by numerous foes from
without, and convulsed with intestine divisions, did not re-
quire and justify the arbitrary and severe government which
was exercised over it; the cause or justification of this go-
vernment is not now the object of inquiry. Tlie fact is indis-
putable, and it accounts, in our opinion, for the ease with
which the French passed from the forms of a democratic go-
vernment to a military despotism, Besides, we should al-
ways recollect, that the French people had no conception of
political liberty ; and if some idea and love of it sprung up,
at the commencement of the Revolution, it was smothered
by the tyranny and oppression which soon succeeded.

In the second place, the real change which took place
from the form of democracy to military depotism,may be
traced to obvious and satisfactory causes. The national
love of glory disposes all Frenclimen to a military life ;
and throws i-ound the military character a splendour which
conceals its tyrannical and oppressive nature. This splen-
dour round the character of Bonaparte was, to the eyes of
Frenchmen, of the most brilliant and dazzling kind : he
had gone further towardsthe realization of their fond hope,
that France would attain universal empire, than any of
their monarchs, and therefore they not only submitted,
but were favourably disposed, to the military government
of a man who had done so much, and who, when their ac-
tvral sovereign, they hoped would perfect the great under-
taking which they had so near their hearts. A people
whose fondest wishes were centered in national glory and
universal empire, could not but be attached to a military
government, as the best suited to the accomplishment of
those wishes, and to a man who they knew would conduct
that military government with the greatest skill and suc-
cess. Even those who were not infected with this national
and characteristic passion, hailed Bonaparte as the man
who had put an end to tiie co.ivulsions that had so long

FliANCE.

359

agitated France ; and though they still apiirchended that
his character, and the character of the people at large,
would keep France in almost continual war, yet they at the
same time trusted that, under him, the internal state of the
kingdom would be quiet, and they would at length be freed
from a rapid succession of tyrants.

But there was another circumstance that reconciled the
French people to a militaiy government, — from the exten-
sion and long duration of the military system, a large por-
tion of the population were interested in it. Their rela-
tions and friends were in the army; and if France were to
become pacific, or if her government were not military,
they would be thrown useless and unsupported on the
world. Thus the same caiises, which in part contributed to
produce the military successes of the French, operated to
render them fit subjects for a military government; and the
Revolution, by increasing and calling into more energetic
and general action their love of glory, as well as by de-
stroying all the habits of settled and regular life, also fitted
them for a government which would cherish and flatter tiiat
love, and indulge their restless and irregular habits.

We shall defer at present the consideration of the ef-
fects on the character and condition of the French produc-
ed by the Revolution, as some of these effects were greatly
heightened by the operation of the system which Bonaparte
established and acted upon, after he became Emperor; and
therefore the subject will afterwards fall more properly
under our notice. We shall now resume the history.

Moreau had long been the object of Bonaparte's hatred
and jealousy ; but no opportunity occurred of crushing or
removing him, till the spring of 1804, when, in conse-
quence of an accusation that he was implicated in a de-
sign to restore the Bourbons, he was seized and sentenced
to be imprisoned ; but his popularity with the army was
so great, that Bonaparte commuted this sentence to banish-
ment for life to the United States of America.

Symptoms of approaching hostilities with Germany had
been long apparent in France ; but Bonaparte did not leave
Paris to put liimselfat the head of his armies till the 24th
of September 1805. As soon as he reached this place, he
issued a manifesto, denouncing what he called the third
coalition, which he attributed to the gold and hatred of
England. As the operations and result of this war are de-
tailed in the History of Austbi.\, we shall run rapidly over
them here. The French army consisted of five divisions :
they crossed the Rhine the day after Bonaparte reached
Strasburg. Hostilities commenced on the 7th, when the
Austrians were defeated in attempting to oppose the pas-
sage of part of the French across the bridge of Donawcrt.
The main Austrian army was under General Mack ; but
his conduct, either from incapacity, or from the interfer-
ence of the couiicil of war at Vienna, was such, that the
French advanced rapidly with upwards of 200,000 men,
while he had not above 80,000. Swabia, Franconia, and
Bavaria, were overrun in a very short time. Mack was
entrenched at TJlm, where, on the 15th day of October, the
3d day after firing the first shot, his army was so dreadfully
beaten, that he was obliged to capitulate on the 17th. The
Archduke Charles, at the head of 95,000 men, in vain en-
deavoured to prevent this dreadful disaster, by a rapid
march from Italy ; but coming up too late, and not being
sufficiently strong to oppose Bonaparte, the latter pushetl
on towards Vienna, which he entered on the 12th of No-
vember. Austria, having been joined by Russia, resolved
to hazard the fate of another battle, which was fought at
Austerlitz on the 27th of November'. The engagement
commenced at sunrise : in less than air hour, the left wing
of the allies was ei>tirely cut off; and this was the forerun-
aer of their total defeat. On the Sllrof December an armis-

tice took place, wliirh was followed by the treaty of Pres-
burg, on the 26th of that month. By this treaty, France
was confirmed in the possession of all her conquests be-
yond the Alps, which had formerly belonged to Austria,
Bonaparte was recognised as King of Italy ; and to this
kingdom the Emperor of Germany ceded his part of the
states of Venice. The Electors of Bavaria and Wirtenr-
burg, haviirg been made kings by Bonaparte, were recog-
nised as such by the Emperor ; and the Tyrol and Swabian
principalities of Austria assigned to them.

Bonaparte on his return to Paris, stopt at Munich, where
his son-in-law, Eugene Bcauharnois, was mari-ied to the
King of Bavaria's daughter. Having arrived at his capital
on the 2d of March 1806, he opened the sitting of the le-
gislative body by a speech, in which he inveighed against
England, as having fomeirted the late war, the third coali-
tion, which however he had succeeded in destroying, and
thus adding to the glory of France. The whole peninsula
of Italy had been added to the French empire ; Russia had
been obliged to retreat to her own territoi'ies ; Austria
had been saved by his clemency ; Spain continued faithful;
with England he desired peace on the basis of the treaty of
Amiens.

In the annual expos6, the extent and power of the French
empire at this period were described. Besides the 110
departments of France itself, there were under the protec-
tion of the Imperial Eagle, Holland, Italy, Venice, Istria,
Dalmatia, and Naples. The allies of F"rance were, Bava-
ria, AVirtemburg, and Baden, besides several other of the
principal powers in Germany. Each succeeding coalition
which l>ngland had formed, had only increased the power
and the territory of the French. By the first, they had
gained Belgium, and the boundary of the Rhine ; the union
of liollaird with Frairce, and the conqrtest of tlrose states
which now foniicd the kingdom of Italy. The second had
put liiern in possession of Piedmont. The third had added
Naples and Venice. The expose concluded, with express-
ing Bonaparte's desire for peace, as he had exhausted mili-
tary glory, and wished now for repose, in or-der that he
might devote himself to the improvement of Fi'ance, and
the happiness of his people. On the 31st of March, seve-
ral acts were presented to the senate, among which were
those for annexing the city and territories of Venice to the
kingdom of Italy ; for placing Joseph Bonaparte on the
throne of Naples; lor conferring the principality of Neuf-
chalel on Berthier ; and titles of high distinction, pritrcipal-
ly taken from places in Italy, on his most distinguished ge-
nerals. At the same time, Eugene Beauharnois, the son of
Josephine, was appornied Viceroy of Italy.

Still the ambitious projects of Bonaparte were not satis-
fied ; and he directed, or ordered, the govei-nment of Hol-
land to petition for the honour of being placed under one
of his family. Louis Bonapar'te was accordingly proclaimed
King of Holland.

Early in the year 1806, Mr Fox became Prime Minister
of Britain, in consequence of the death of Mr Pitt, and he
inrmediately began to put into execution such measures as
he thought were likely to bring about a peace with Fr'ance,
the object that had always been nearest his heart. The
particulars of this negociation are given iir the History of
Britain, and therefore need not be repeated here. It is
sufficient to observe, that it did not produce peace ; that
Russia refused to ratify the treaty which her minister had
made with France ; and that before the Earl of Lauder-
daU;, the British ambassador sent to Paris for the puipose
of negociating, had left that capital, Bonaparte had departed
to put himself at the head of his arnries against Prussia.

For some time past, the King of Prussia had given him-
self up to the iirterest and influence of Bonaparte, and hat!

560

FRANCE.

even shared in Iiis unjust spoils, by annexing Hanover to
his dominions: l)ut in the nci^oriiuiuns with England, il was
understood that England had rc(iuirod the cession ol" Han-
over li-om France, and that France had agreed to yield it.
This irritated the Kinn; of Prussia, vvlio was thus convinced
that Bonaparte regarded hini merely as a vassal Prince,
and perliaps as one wliom he would destroy when he had
accomplished more grand and serious undertakings. Prus-
sia was also alarmed at tlie Confederation of the Rhine,
which Bonaparte had formed ; and whicli, being under his
controul, was cither meant or at least calculated to curtail
his power, and keep him in awe. The King of Prussia,
■moved by these considerations and apprehensions, prepared
for war; and Bonaparte did not seem sorry that hostilities
■were to commence, nor anxious to pacify the King. On
the 24lh of September, Bonapaite left Paris, to put him-
self at the head of his armies. The discussions, however,
were still continued till llie Stli of October, when both mo-
narchs were at the head quarters of their respective troops:
a few days afterwards, a dcclarlion of war was published
by Prussia. The King was so confident in his own
strength, that just before the commencement of hostilities
he refrained from any attempts at reinforcement from other
powers.

The French army advanced in three divisions; the right,
under Ney and Soult, with some Bavarian troops, advanced
on Hoff ; the centre consisted of the reserve, under the
Grand Duke of Berg; the corps of Bernadotte and Da-
voust, and the imperial guards, marched to Gera ; the left,
under Lannes and Augereau, took the route to Cobourgh.
The Prussian army had taken a strong position along the
north of Frankfort on the Maine ; but this they were com-
pelled to leave, in consequence of the French unexpectedly
turning their left wing, and took up a position near Jena.
Here they were attacked by the French on the morning of
the 14th of October, and in less than an hour the action be-
came general. The force on each side was nearly equal,
comprizing about 250,000 men, and 700 pieces of cannon.
Atone period of the battle, the issue was doubtful; but it
■was turned in favour of the French, principally by a charge
of their dragoons and cuirassiers. The Prussian infantry,
unable to resist them, were broken and thrown into confu-
sion, the day was lost, and the Prussian army nearly anni-
hilated, 40,000 being killed, wounded, and taken, including
about 20 generals; among whom, the Duke of Brunswick
■was mortally wounded. In consequence of this victory,
Erfurt, Magdeburgh, and Stettin, all places of great strength
and importance, were reduced ; and on the 27th of Octo-
ber, Bonaparte arrived at BerUn. The only part of the
Prussian army which did not immediately yield, or was not
utterly dispersed, was the division under Blucher, who dis-
played w onderful activity and courage in his retreat to Lu-
Ijec, where, however, he was obliged to capitulate.

The King of Prussia, thus deprived of his whole army,
retreated first to Custrin, and afterwards to Koningsberg,
where he awaited the arrival of the Russians, without whose
assistance he had imprudently engaged in the contest.

Those Princes of Germany who had joined the King of
Prussia in this short and unfortunate war, were severely
punished by the conqueror. The Elector of Hesse, and
the young Duke of Brunswick, were deprived of their do-
minions ; JNIecklenburg was taken possession of; the Elec-
tor of Saxony, however, was pardoned, as he had been com-
pelled to act against France. Hanover was occupied ; and
Fulda, Cassel, and Hamburg, were taken possession of in
the name of Bonaparte.

In the mean time, the Russian army destined for the
support of Prussia, had crossed the Vistula under general
Benningsen. The French also advanced into Poland, and,

by their manoeuvres and superior force, obliged llie Rus-
sians to recross the Vistula. Their retreat, however, liaving
enabled tliem to join strong reinforcements, they again ad-
vanced, and fixed their head-quarters at Pultusk. Here,
on the 26th of December, a drcailful battle was fought,
which continued for some time with considerable vicissi-
tude; but at length terminated in tlie defeat of the Rus-
sians, who fell considerably back. Boir.iparte, however,
fjund his army so much weakened by his dearly bought
victory, that this circumstance, and the severity of the win-
ter in this country, induced liim to go into winter quarters.
The King of Prussia, still more dispirited by the misfor-
tunes of his ally, endeavoured to procui e peace, but in vain.

It has already been mentioned, that Bonaparte had made
his brother Joseph king of Naples. It may, however, be
proper briefly to narrate the events, which deprived the le-
gitiniate monarch of his throne. He had lately made peace
with Bonaparte, but by permitting an Anglo-Russian army
to embaik at Naples, which was to act against France, he
incurred the displeasure of Bonaparte. Joseph Bonaparte
was sent with an army against him ; the Neapolitan troops
could make no resistance ; the kingdom was in a very
short time overrun and subdued ; and Joseph Bonaparte
entered his capital in tiiumph.

Although Bonaparte, after the battle of Pultusk, deemed
it necessary to go into winter quarters with his main army,
yet the rest of his forces were by no means idle. Silesia
was invaded ; and on the 8th of January 1807, Breslau sur-
rendered. The other fortresses in this country did not hold
out long afterwards. Other divisions of his army were
employed in besieging Stralsund, Colberg, and Dantzic.
But the efforts of Bonaparte were principally directed
against the Russian army, which early in 1807 was in great
force. About the end of January lie quitted Warsaw,
(where he had done nothing towards the re-establishment
of Poland, though by promising this he had gained over the
Poles to his interest,) and joined his army. Operations im-
mediately commenced, the result of which was, that the
Russians were obliged to retreat, and take up a position
behind Eylau. Here Bonaparte attacked them ; tlie con-
test was desperate. At one period of it, a thick fall of
snow intercepted the view of the French divisions, and for
a considerable time they were ^posed to extreme uncer-
tainty and danger. At length Marshal Davoust succeeded
in outflanking the Russians, who retreated, but not in the
least disorder. (See Englaxd.) Both parties claimed
the victory ; in fact, the battle was indecisive, except so
far that the French compelled the Russians to retreat on
the day when it took place ; for they in their turn, instead
of passing the Pregel in pursuit of the enemy, or pushing
on to Koningsberg, retired to their entrenchments. Soon
afterwards, the Emperor Alexander, and his brother Con-
stantine, joined the Russian army with upwards of 60,000
troops ; and Bonaparte ordered strong reinforcements from
France and Germany.

In the mean time, the siege of Dantzic was prosecuted
with great vigour, and it was obstinately defended. The
garrison consisted of 16,000 men. On the 24th of -April
the bombardment began ; and in one night three attempts
were made by the French to gain the citadel, but they were
ineffectual. As the relief of this place was an object of
great importance to the allies, they resolved to attempt it:
the Russians first advanced for that purpose, but they fail-
ed, and suffered a very severe loss. The Prussians next
endeavoured to penetrate to Dantzic, but tliey were soon
obliged to abandon their enterprise. On the 21st of May,
every thing being prepared for the assault, the governor,
(his garrison being reduced to 9000 men, and there being
no hope of relief.) agreed to surrender. This conquest was

FRANCE.

56(1

of great Importance to Bonaparte, as Uanlzic strengthened
the left wing of his army, while the centre was supported
by Thorn, and the right by Praga.

As Bonaparte found that the forces of Russia were more
formidable than he expected, he endeavoured to reduce the
number of his enemies, by detaching Sweden from tlie al-
lies; but not succeeding, the war against that power was
carried on in Pomerania with such vigour and effect, tliat
the Swedish general agreed to an armistice, which, how-
ever, was to be submitted to his Swedish Majesty. He did
not approve of it, and resolved to take the command of the
army himself. As soon as he landed in Pomerania, he di-
rected his thoughts to the fortifications of Stralsund, whicli
the French were at that time besieging. His army consis-
ted of about 30,000 Swedes, and 40O0 Prussians. But we
must suspend our account of his operations, till we bring
the narration of the contest between the French and Rus-
sians to a close.

Bonaparte, after the battle of Eylau, and the fall of Dant-
zic, resolved to strengthen his positions, that he might be
able to resist the attack of the Russians, who now seemed
disposed to become the assailants. On the Sth of June,
the Russians did attack them, and gained some advantages.
On the Sth, Bonaparte arrived and took the command. He
immediately ordered an attempt to be made to recover the
positions they had lost ; the French were successful, and
not only regained their positions, but forced the Russians
to fall back. From the Sth to the 12tli of the month, there
had been constant engagements, in which the loss was very
considerable on each side. On the 13th, Bonaparte had
pushed the Russians back to Friedland. Here, on the 14th,
the anniversary of the battle of Marengo, he determined to
attack thern. The battle lasted from five in the morning
till seven at night. At the close of the day, nearly all the
French force fell on the centime of the Russians : It gave
■way, and they lost the battle. Their loss was very great,
and they were pursued as far as the Niemen, where they
were joined by large reinforcements from Russia. In con-
sequence of this, the Russian general resolved to hazard
another battle, and crossing the Niemen, stationed his ar-
my on a great plain to the right of the town of Tilsit. The
fall of Koningsberg was the immediate consequence of the
battle of Friedland, the garrison evacuating it', and joining
the Russian army.

While Bonaparte was advancing towards Tilsit, an over-
ture was made by the Russian general Benningsen to the
Duke of Berg, for an armistice. On the 22d of June, it
was signed; and, on the 24th, an interview took place be-
tween Bonaparte and the Emperor of Russia, on a raft on
the Niemen. On the 9th of July, the peace between Rus-
sia and France was ratified. The conditions of this treaty
more immediately connected with the history of France are,
that East Friesland was to be added to the kingdom of
Holland ; a new kingdom, under the title of that of West-
phalia, was to be formed out of the provinces conquered
from Prussia, at the head of which Jerome Bonaparte was
to be placed; the kings of Holland and Naples, and the
confederation of the Rhine, were acknowledged ; and Rus-
sia and Prussia agreed to shut their ports against England,
and become a party in the maritime war, the grand and fa-
vourite object of Bonaparte, by means of which, and the
exclusion of British commerce from the continent, he fool-
ishly hoped to reduce Britain to a compliance with his
terms.

The peace of Tilsit was not immediately followed by the
cessation of hostilities between France and Sweden ; but as
Bonaparte had now no other enemy against whom to direct
the immense force he possessed in the north of Europe, it
was not to be expected that Sweden could long resist him.

Vol. IX. Part, I,

The King of Sweden llnding that his efforts for the defence
of Pomerania were unavailing, returned to his capital ; and
on the 7lh of September, a convention wus signed between
the Swedish and French commanders, by wiiich the latter
were put in jjossession of Rugen, and the other Swedish
islands on the German coast.

During the absence of Bonaparte from France, a mes-
sage was communicated to the senate in the month of
March, stating, that it was necessary to antici|)ate the con-
scription of 1808; but that the conscripts would be per-
mitted to remain in France for six months, to be trained
and disciplined, after which they would be liable to be call-
ed to the theatre of war. This is the first instance of the
anticipation of the conscription, a measure which was after-
wards frequently resorted to. Very soon after Bonaparte's
return to Paris, he addressed the legislative body and the
tribunate on the situation of the empire, the conquests
which France had achieved, and his desire for a maritime
peace.

As the Dutch bore impatiently the loss of their com-
merce, and as Louis was disposed to commiserate them,
Bonaparte obliged him to issue very severe decrees against
the introduction of British goods; and in order to shew to
the world wh;it a mere puppet of a king he was, the strong
fortresses of the Maese, the great bulwarks of Holland
against France, were taken within the limits of the latter.
He next prepared for the invasion of Portugal, and an ar-
my of 40,000 men was ordered to be assembled at Bayonne.
This, however, was for the present productive of no conse-
quence, except the emigration of the Prince Regent of Por-
tugal to the Brazils.

Although the King of Spain had long shewn himself the
willing instrument of Bonaparte, and the resources of that
country were entirely at his disposal— although he had
proved his devotion in such a dreadful manner to himself,
by engaging in a war with Britain, that had nearly com-
pleted tlie ruin of his kingdom, — yet Bonaparte was not
content. The ambition of placing his brothers and rela-
tions on the thrones of Europe had seized him ; and though
Joseph Bonaparte was made king of Naples, yet he resol-
ved to remove him to Spain, and place Murat, who had
married his sister, in his place. His designs on Spain had
another object. While she remained under her imbecile
government, though that government was sufficiently dis-
posed to act under his guidance, yet the resources of the
kingdom were in such a dilapidated state, and there was
so little energy either in its councils or people, that the co-
operation of Spain was of little benefit to the furtherance
of his views, especially against Britain. The dethrone-
ment of the King of Spain, and the accession of Joseph
Bonaparte, were therefore resolved upon. The means
which he employed to persuade the King to resign his
throne in favour of his son Ferdinand, and to entice Ferdi-
nand into France, and to surrender his claims to him, — the
insurrection of the Spaniards, — their answered calls to Bri-
tain for assistance, — the battles that were fought between
them and the French, — the retreat of Sir John Moore,—
and the' masterly operations, and brilliant victories of Lord
Wellington, till the reduction of Ciudad Rodrigo on the 19th
of January 1812, are fully detailed in the History of Bui-
tain. We shall therefore omit those parts of the historv
of France which relate to the operations of her army in tiie
Peninsula, till we come to the events of that year ; and con-
fine ourselves, in the intermediate period, to tiie operations
of Bonaparte in the other parts of Europe, and the internal
transactions of France.

The same system of concealment and misrepresentation
which Bonaparte had practised respecting all his reverses,
he e:;tended to liie afPairs of Spain. In 1S08, when Josepii

Z z

362

FRANCE.

Bonaparte was obliged to leave Madrid, not a word was
said of Spain in the Moniteur. But his reverses, and the
enthusiasm as well as the extent of the opposition to him
in the Peninsula, were well known in all parts of Europe;
and, as might be expected, received with satisfaction and
joy. Austria, who had reluctantly submitted to the last
peace, had been for some time employed in bringing her
finances into order, and in forming magazines on her fron-
tier. These circumstances did not fail to excite the suspi-
cion of Bonaparte ; and a long correspondence took place
on the subject between the Austrian ambassador at Paris,
and the French minister for foreign afiairs ; but the Aus-
trians persevered in their military preparations, notwith-
standing the remonstrances, and even the tlireatcning lan-
guage of the latter. Orders were therefore transmitted
from Paris, to the members of the Confederation of the
Rhine, to call out their respective quotas of troops, 8u,000
of whom were taken into the pay of France, and sent into
that country to replace those French troops whom it was
found necessary to send into Spain.

Under the circumstances in which he was placed, it was
of great importance for Bonaparte to secure the neutrality
of the Emperor of Russia; a conference, therefore, took
place between them on tlic 27th of September, at Erfurth,
in the former electorate of Mayence. The Emperor seems
to have entered into the views of Bonaparte, and the latter
in return agreed to livacuate the Prussian territories, as soon
as the contributions, wnich he reduced to one third, were
paid up. By this concession to the wishes of the Emperor
of Russia, Bonaparte set at liberty a great number of his
troops, who were instantly marched for the Peninsula. The
two sovereigns also agreed to propose peace to Britain, but,
as we have already noticed in the history of that country,
the proposal was rejected.

This year did not pass over, without new and additional
proofs of the rapacious and unsatisfiable nature of Bona-
parte's ambition. The military posts of Kehl, Wesel,
Cassel on the Rhine, and Flushing, were annexed to
France on the east and north ; while on the side of Italy,
Rome, Pal ma, Placentia, and Ancona, suffered a similar
fate.

Though Austria had been long preparing for the re-
newal of hostilities with France, yet she did not issue a
formal declaration of war till the 6th of April 1809. At
this period she had an army consisting of nine corps, each
corps consisting of 30,000 men : the first six were under
the immediate orders of the Archduke Charles; the
seventh was under the Archduke John in Poland. Besides
these, there were two corps of reserve, one of 20,000 men
commanded by Prince John of Lichtenstein ; the other of
10,000, under General Kinmayer ; and about 25,000 par-
tizans in the Tyrol, Carinthia, and on the confines of
Bohemia. The French were not inferior in respect to
numbers, and they occupied the following positions ; a
corps entirely of French at Ratisbon, under Alarshal Da-
voust ; another under Massena at Ulm ; and a third under
Oudinot at Augsburg : three divisions of Bavarians were
posted at Munich, Ijandshut, and Strasburg : the- Saxons
were encamped under the walls of Dresden ; and the Poles
near Warsaw.

As soon as Bonaparte learnt that the Austrians had cross-
ed the Inn, he left Paris on the 13th of April ; on the 17th
he arrived at Donawert, where he fixed his head quarters ;
on the 19ih, the different corps of the F'rench began to
unite. At Ingolstadt the plan of Bonaparte was unfolded ;
which was to manoeuvre on the Austrians, whose line was
extended from Ntustadt to Landshut ; to break the line,
and come between the Archduke Charles and the corps
commanded by his brother. In consequence of the suc-

cesses of the French, particularly at Eckmuhl, the Arch-
duke was forced to cross the Danube at Ratisbon, in order
to form a junction with General Bellegarde, who had been
employed in keeping the French in check, on the frontier
of Bohemia. The Archduke finding he could not defend
Ratisbon, was obliged to continue his retreat ; and Bona-
parte, following the cotirsc of the Danube, advanced rapidly
towards Vienna; on the 10th of May, he appeared before
this city, which, after some show of resistance, he entered.
In the mean time, the Archduke Charles, having learnt
the fate of Vienna, moved down on the left bank of the
Danube, for the purpose of watching the motions of the
French; and fixed his head quarters, on the 16th of May,
at Ebersdorf. Bonaparte immediately formed the design
of attacking him here, and for this purpose marched along
the south bank of the river, till he reached the distance of
about six miles from Vieinia, at which place its breadth
and rapidity are broken by two islands. At this point he
resolved to cross it. As the French advanced the Arch-
duke retreated, and the right wing of the former was post-
ed near the village of Essling, while the left was support-
ed by the village of .\spem. Here, on tlie 21st and 22d,
two dreadful and sanguinary battles were fought : the bat-
tle of the 2 1 St was terminated only by the darkness of the
night, at which time the French were driven from Aspern,
but still retained Essling. On the morning of the 22d
they regained Aspern ; but by repeated attacks, the Aus-
trians succeeded in driving them both from it and Essling.
In the night between the 22d and 23d, they retreated from
the left bank of the Danube, and took up a position on one
of the islands.

In the mean time, the war was proceeding in Italy,
where the Archduke John, and the Viceroy Eugene Beau-
harnois, were opposed to each other. At first the Arch-
duke was successful : Padua and Vicenza were taken, the
Adige crossed, and Venice threatened ; but the Viceroy
having been reinforced, retook Padua and Vicenza, cross-
ed the Brenta, and drove the Austrians before him. At
this period, these hostile armies were sent for, in order to
reinforce the grand armies on the Danube ; but as they
were proceeding towards Austria from Italy, they met at
Raab, where a severe engagement took place on the 14th
of June, the anniversary of tlie battle of Marengo. The
battle began at two o'clock in the afternoon, and though
the French were superior in numbers, victory was long
doubtful; at length, the troops of the Hungarian insurrec-
tion, unaccustomed to service, gave way, and the Aus-
trians were forced to save themselves by flight. The
Archduke Charles retreated to Comorn, in order to secure
his junction with the grand Austrian army ; while the
Viceroy about the same time accomplished the same
object.

On the 4th of July, the whole army of Bonaparte was
concentrated in or near the island in the Danube, where
the Archduke Charles had not deemed it prudent to attack
them. Bonaparte, having been reinforeced by the Viceroy,
resolved to cross the river, and try the issue of another
engagement with the Archduke ; for this purpose, in a
very short space of time, three bridges were thrown across
it, by which he intended to pass, and another bridge oppo-
site to Essling, erected in ordei to draw off the attention
of the Archduke to this quarter. In the short space of
two hours, during the night of the 4th, while the Aus-
trians were expecting to be attacked on their rignt, near
Essling, the French passed the Danube, and on the morn-
ing of the 5lh appeared drawn up on the left of the Aus-
trians. This masterly manoeuvre, by which the Archduke
had been completely deceived, gave Bonaparte a great ad-
vantage ; which he did not fail to profit by, in the obsti-

FRANCE.

363

irate but decisive bailie of Wagram, which was fought on
the evcniiig of tlie 5lh and during the 6lh of July. During
the first movements on the former day, the Arcliduke was
obliged to give up his entrenclmients ; and on the 6Ui,
Uonaparte, having strengthened his centre, attacked the
weakened centre of the Austrians ; the consequence was,
that tlic latter gave way, and the wings, being thus expos-
ed, also retreated. After tiiis battle, ail thoughts of serious
resistance to Bonaparte were .L^iven up. Proposals for an
armistice were carried to him from the Emperor Francis,
which was agreed to, and signed immediately. By one
article it was stipulated, that the Austrians were not to
afl'ord any succour to the Tyrolese.

These brave and bold mountaineers, as soon as they
learned the rupture between France and Austria, resolved
to use their utmost eflbrts to shake off the yoke of Bavaria.
At first they were successful ; the Bavarian troops, though
27,000 strong, having been defeated by them, A still
greater force was then sent against them under Marshal
Le Febre, consisting of French, Bavarian, and Saxon
troops. These they could not venture to meet in the field,
but, taking advantage of the nature of their country, they
destroyed thousands of them as they passed through the
gorges of the mountains, by precipitating masses of rock
on tliem. When, however, the armistice was concluded
between France and Austria, their cause became hopeless,
though they continued, for some time afterwards, to fight
obstinately for their national independence.

On the Hth of October, a treaty of peace was signed at
Vienna between France and Austria. By this treaty, the
latter ceded to the former all her sea coast ; and the king-
doms of Saxony and Bavaria were enlarged, so as to be-
come sufficient checks on her. Prussia was recompensed
for her neutrality by the cession of part of Gallicia; and
the Emperor Francis agreed to acknowledge Joseph Bona-
parte King of Spain. Such were the leading articles of
this treaty, that were communicated to the world at the
time : but the Emperor Francis obtained these favourable
terms only by a sacrifice of a domestic nature, which we
shall atterwards have occasion to notice.

Soon after Bonaparte's return to F'rance, the meetings
of the legislature were opened by a speech from him. In
this speech, the events of the year 1809, and the state of
France at tcie close of it, were, as usual, the principal
topics. He was marching, he said, on Cadiz and Lisbon,
when he was under the necessity of treading back his
steps, and planting his eagles on the ramparts of Vienna.
Three months had seen the rise and termi.iation of this
fourth Punic war. He next adverted to the Walcheren
expedition ; and, in short and unsatisfactory terms, to the
state of Spain. The annexation of Tuscany and the Ro-
jTian states were next dwelt upon ; but that part of the
treaty of Vienna which had put him in possession of the
Illyrian provinces, and thus brought the French empire
contiguous to the empire of Constantinople, seemed the
favourite topics of this speech. " I shall find myself in a
situation," he observes, "to watch over the first interests
of my commerce in the Mediterranean, the Adriatic, and
the Levant. I will protect the Porte, if the Porte with-
draws herself from the fatal influence of England. I shall
know how to punish her, if she suffers herself to be govern-
ed by cunning and perfidious councils." In the course of
1809, Bonaparte had advanced one step towards blotting
out even the nominal independence of Switzerland, by de-
claring himself the IMediator of that country. This he
adverted to in his speech ; and at the same lime he hinted,
that clianges might become necessary in Holland, as she
was equally injured by France and England, aijd yet was
'he debouche of the principal arteries of his empire.

Bonaparte having thus succeeded in all his plans ol
aggrandizement, except what regarded Spain, and being
doubtless convinced that that country also would soon be
reduced; having fixed all his brothers (except Lucien) on
thrones, began to relied on the probable fate of his own
vast empire, on the event of his death. Theic was no jiro
bability of his having issue by Josephine ; besides, even
if there were, his power would be much more iirn)ly con-
solidated, if he were united with some of the ancient
sovereign families of Europe. Considerations of political
ambition always weighed most in his mind; but by such
a marriage, not only would his empire be strengthened,
and, if there were issue from it, rendered secure after his
death, but his personal vanity would be gratified. The
divorce of the Empress Josephine, to whom he appears to
have been much attached, was therefore agreed upon ;
and she, though equally attached to him, seems to have
consented to this measure without reluctance. It took
place in December 1809; but it was not till the 27th of
February 1810, that it was publicly and certainly known
whom he intended to marry. On that day, he announced,
by a message to the Senate, that Berthier had been sent by
him to Vienna, to demand for him the hand of the Arch-
duchess Maria Louisa, daughter of the Emperor Francis.
The ceremony of marriage was pei formed on the 1 Itli of
March at Vienna, the Archduke Charles representing
Bonaparte on this occasion !

Early in 1810, Bonaparte began to unfold his designs
upon Holland. A French army of 40,000 men occupied
it ; but at first he seemed disposed to be content with the
annexation of only part of it, — the left bank of the Waal,
As this, however, did not serve his purpose of totally ex-
cluding British goods, about the middle of June 20,000 ■
French troops assembled in the neighbourhood of Utrecht,
and on the 29th of that month the King of Holland receiv-
ed official information, that his majesty the Emperor in-
sisted on the occupation of Amsterdam, and the establish-
ment of French head quarters in that capital. Louis there-
fore resigned his throne, but at first only in favour of his
son. Soon afterwards, however, Holland was annexed to
France. As a justification of this measure, Bonaparte, in
his messag". to the Conservative Senate, stated, that, in con-
sequence of the English orders in council having destroy-
ed the public law of Europe, new securities had become
necessary, which could only be obtained by the annexation
of the mouths of the Scheldt, the Meuse, the Rhine, the
Ems, the Weser, and the Elbe, to France, and the esta-
blishment of an internal navigation between France and
the Baltic. About the same lime, the Hans Towns and
the Valais were annexed to France ; and the Count of
Semonville, who brought up the report of the Senalus
Consultum respecting these annexations, expressly point-
ed out the gratification and accomplishment of ihe views
of Bonapaite, which were thus attained. " At length,
after a struggle glorious for France, for ten years, the
most extraordinary genius that ever nature in her muni-
ficence produced, had reunited, and held in his trium-
phant hands, the scattered wrecks of the empire of Char-
lemagne."

According to the plan of the annexation of Holland,
/Amsterdam was to rank as the third city in the French em-
pire, Rome being the second. The whole population of
Bonaparte's dominion, before the annexation of Rome,
Holland, the Valais, and the Hans Towns, amounted to
38,080,443 persons, not including the military actually
bearing arms. After these annexations, it was computed
at 43,000,000. Hanover was annexed to the kingdom of
Westphalia.

To recruit the French armies, the conscription was
Z z 2

364

FRANCE.

again anticipated, 120,000 of the conscripts of 181 1 being
placed at the disposal of the minister of war for the service
of 1810. Durinij these measures, which plainly intiniaied
that Bonaparte was resolved not to be content with the em-
pire of Charlemagne, the most vexatious and despotic de-
crees were passed at Paris. By one of them, all servants
of both sexes were obliged to register their names in a
book kept by the Prefect of the Police. By another de-
cree,the liberty of the press was utterly destroyed ; the num-
ber of printers in Paris being reduced to sixty, and those
in the departments in the same proportion ; and the num-
ber of printing presses in tlie capital was to be only four,
in each department only two. Another decree, respecting
prisons, expressly declared, tiiat there were many persons
charged with crimes against the state, whom it was not
safe either to liberate or bring to trial. But his most se-
vere and frequent decrees were issued against the intro-
tluction of British merchandize into the continent. Not
only were military governors appointed at the ports of
tJermany annexed to France, but at Dantzic, Colberg, Sec.
for preventing its introduction. General Uapp, who com-
3iianded the army employed on this singular service, had
his head quarters at the former place. All English mer-
chandize, whether taken by land or sea, was ordered to be
burnt.

As, however, the prohibition of colonial produce created
great dissatisfaction in his dominions, a decree was passed
on the 25th of March, 18 1 1, enjoining the culture of the
beet loot and the plant woad, to supply the place of the
sugar cane and indigo ; and so confident was Bonaparte of
success in this scheme, that the prohibition of the sugar
and indigo of the Indies, as English commodities, was an-
nounced for the 1st of January 1813.

On the 20th of April, the Empress was delivered of a
son, for whom was revived the title of King of Rome. On
the 17th of June, the French national ecclesiastical council
M'as opened at Paris ; the proceedings and result of which
■were kept a profound secret ; but it is generally supposed
^hat they were not agreeable to the wishes of Bonaparte.
On the 29th of June the minister of the interior presented
the usual annual expose of the state of France. On these
state papers no implicit confidence can be placed, as they
evidently contain much of what is false, and much that is
exaggerated ; yet, by a careful comparison of them with
one another, with what the other oflicial papers furnish us
■with, and with what we know must have taken place, we
iiiay be able to glean some interesting and important facts
from them. The expose of this year states, that," since
the last session, the empire had received an addition of 16
departments, five millions of people, a territory yielding a
revenue of 100 millions of livres, 300 leagues of coast, with
all their maritime means. The mouths of the Rhine, the
IVIeuse, and the Scheldt, were not then French ; the circu-
lation of the interior of the empire was circumscribed ; the
productions' of its central departments could not reach the
^;ea without being subjected to the inspection of foreign
custom-houses. These inconveniences have for ever dis-
afifieared. The maritime arsenal of the Scheldt, whereon
so many hopes are founded, has thereby received all the
developement which it needed. The mouths of the Ems,
ihe Weser, and the Elbe, place in our hands all the timber
that Germany furnishes. The frontiers of the empire lean
on the Baltic ; and thus, having a direct communication
with the north, it will be easy for us to draw thence, masts,
liemp, iron, and such other naval stores as we may want.
We at this moment unite all that France, Germany, and
Italy produce, as materials for the construction of ships,"

This statement of the expose deserves particular atten-
tiorij as it at once points out the extent and resources of

tlie empire of Bonaparte, at the period when it was at ts
greatest height ; and demonstrates the extreme folly and
madness of that ambition, which, not satisfied with such un
empire, brought it to ruin by aiming at enlarging it.

The restlessness of this ambition, which, when there was
no opportunity for making real accessions to the FreriCh
empire, employed itself in the nominal annexation of ter-
tories, which in fact had been before annexed, was displayed
by the decree of the 5t!i of August; by which the territo-
ries belonging to the kingdom of Italy, situate^ on the left
bank of the river that flows between Parma and Modena,
were united to France, and its course, from its mouth to its
source, was to be the future Ijoundary between France and
Italy, the boimdary then proceeding along the Apennines-
to the frontiers of Tuscany.

On the 19th of September, Bonaparte left Compeigne on
a tour to the coast ; visiting Boulogne, where he caused
the attack on the English frigate, noticed in the History of
BiuT.Mjj, and thence proceeding to Ostend, Flushing, and
Antwerp, where he minutely examined all the works that
were going on in the dock yards, and the ships that were
building. From Antwerp he went to Amsterdam, whence,
on the 13th of October, he issued a decree for assembling
in council the deputies to the legislative body from the
Dutch departments. In consequence of this meeting, a
number of decrees were issued, the most important of
which were to the following purpose: The departments
and their boundaries — the introduction of the French sys-
tem of taxation into Holland, on the 1st of January 1812—
the establishment of two imperial manufactories of tobacco
— roads with their tolls — canals — aqueducts for conveying
water from Amsterdam to the Hague — the proportion of
the budget in Holland for the year 1810, by which the re-
venue is fixed at 95 millions of livres, and the expences at
1 1 1 millions — the establishment of two academies and se-
condary schools on the French plan, &c. Bonaparte return-
ed to Paris on the 1 1th of November ; and soon afterwards
issued an order for the immediate call of 1 20,000 conscripts
of the year 1812.

This increase of his forces was occasioned by the dis-
putes which, during 1811, had arisen between the Empe-
ror of Russia and Bonaparte : the former, by the treaty of
Tilsit, had agreed to exclude British goods from his do-
minions ; but the consequences of this measure were so ex-
tremely prejudicial to the finances of his empire, already
nearly exhausted, and to the interest of his nobles, many
of whom depended entirely on the interchange of the pro-
duce of their estates for the merchandize of England, that
Alexander was induced to connive at the infraction of the
treaty in this respect. This gave umbrage to Bonaparte ;
and as Alexander, moreover, would not yield up Finland
to Sweden, which Bonaparte required him to do, the dif-
ference was increased and exasperated. The whole year
1811 passed in negociations and discussions between
France and Russia ; but as neither parly was prepared for
war, hostilities were deferred. Bonaparte still saw the pe-
ninsula not only unsubdued, but requiring almost con-
stantly fresh troops ; and the Emperor Alexander, fatally
convinced of the ruin attending the commencement of hos-
tilities, before every thing was planned and prepared, re-
solved not to commit hin;self hastily.

But though Bonapprte was afraid lO act in a decidedly
hostile manner towards the Emperor of Russia, the King
of Prussia received no such scrupulous treatment from
him. Indeed he seemed resolved to humble that monarch
as much as possible ; and obliged iiim, much against his
will, to join the confederacy of the Rhine, and to place a
considerable body of his troops under the orders of General
Rapp) the French commander on the southern coast of the

FRANCE.

5G;

Baltic. This confederation was now extremely powerful :
At the beginning of this year, the states composing it con-
tained a territory of 5703 sejuare leagues, with a population
of nearly 15 millions ; and the contingent of troops, which
its 39 members furnished, was fixed at 1 18,682 men : these
were taken, in tlic autumn of 1811, into the pay of France.
See CoNi F.DEnATioN OF iiiE Rhine.

As the history of the war in Spain, which is given under
the article Britain, terminates with llic reduction of Ciu-
dad Rodrigo, in January 1812, wc shall resume and conti-
nue it in this place.

The preservation of Ciudad Rodrigo being of the ut-
most consequence to the French, Marshal Marmont march-
ed to its relief; before he arrived, however, it surrendered.
Lord Wellington's next enterprise was Badajos, which had
been for some time blockaded by General Hill. This place
was commanded by Philippon, a distinguished officer in
the French service, especially as an engineer, and he left no
means untried by which he could strengthen the fortifica-
tions, or impede the progress of the besiegers. Nothing,
however, could withstand the valour of the British, who
carried the place by storm, after suffering a severe loss, on
the 7th of April. Soult had pushed forward to relieve this
place, but as soon as he learned its fate, he commenced his
retreat: his rear was closely followed by the British ca-
valry, and suffered considerably. On the 1 Ith of April he
evacuated the province of Estremadura entirely. In the
mean time, Marmont had sat down before Ciudad Rodrigo,
in the hopes of drawing off Lord Wellington from the siege
of Badajos; but not succeeding in his object, and learning
that his Lordship was advancing into Castile, he broke up
from Ciudad Rodrigo, and advanced as far as Castel Blan-
co ; but from this place he again retreated.

In May, the head quarters of Marmont were at Salaman-
ca, of Drouet at Aguaza, and of Soult at Seville. Lord
Wellington was posted at Fuente de Guinaldo. His Lord-
ship, at this time, formed a plan to cut off the communica-
tion between the French army of Portugal, and that before
Cadiz ; and, for this purpose, by a series of masterly ma-
noeuvres, he made himself master of the bridge of Alma-
raz, on the eastern side of the province of Estremadura.
Here again Marshal Marmont was too slow in his motions,
for he did not arrive till the bridge was in the possession of
the English. The next object of Lord Wellington was
Salamanca, before which some French troops were posted,
but these retired on his Lordship's approach. Marmont,
however, though he was not able, or did not deem it prudent,
to attempt preventing the loss of Salamanca, resolved to
attempt its recapture. Accordingly, he collected liis ar-
my on the Douro, betwixt the 16th and 19th of June, and
moved forward on the 20th. Lord Wellington did not re-
fuse battle; but Marmont again retreated, retaining, how-
ever, a communication with some forts in the neigiibour-
hood of the city, which still held out. Against these forts
Lord Wellington directed all his efforts, and having redu-
ced them, he pushed forward against Marmont. The lat-
ter retired, crossed the Douro, and took up a strong posi-
tion on the bank of that river. This position appeared to
Lord Wellington so strong, that, in order to draw Mar-
mont away from it, he moved in such a direction, as seemed
to threaten Madrid. The French general also, about the
same time, endeavoured to carry into execution a scheme
for cutting off the communication between the British ar-
my and Ciudad Rodrigo ; and, for this purpose, having
been reinforced, he moved in such a manner, as to threaten
t!ie left of the British. Lord Wellington, on seeing this,
retreated a little, so as to render it secure ; and Marmont
being thus foiled, attempted to turn the right. Lord Wel-
lington now manoeuvred in such a manner, as would not

only protect it, but enable liini to take advantage of any
blunder which Marmont might commit. 'J'hus sevcr;;l
days were spent ; Marmont constantly manreuvring to
turn the right of the British, and Lord Wellington, making
correspondent movements, in order to defeat his object.
At last, Marmont, in his anxiety to out-manccuvre the Bri-
tish army, neglected the proper defence of his own, extend-
ing his line to the left, so far as to weaken the main body
considerably. This fault Lord Wellington instantly per-
ceived, and took advantage of it. The centre and left of
the French were attacked with such successful and impe-
tuous bravery, that they weie soon beaten. The right
would have as speedily shared the same fate, but it was re-
inforced by the troops that fled from the left, and held out
till it was attacked in front, when it also gave way. It was
now dark, but the French were pursued ; and, during the
battle and pursuit, suffered so severely, that only a few es-
caped to Valladolid. Marmont himself was wounded early
in the battle.

Joseph Bonaparte had left Madrid with the army of the
centre, in the hope of being able to join Marmont before
his engagement with Lord Wellington ; but, on learning
the issue of the battle of Salamanca, ho retreated in such
a manner, as he trusted would draw off his Lordship from
tiie pursuit of the defeated army. In this also he was dis-
appointed, and Madrid was now abandoned to its fate. Nor
was this the only result of the battle : Soult withdrew from
the south of Spain; and the siege of Cadiz, which the
French had continued so very long, was raised. The ol>-
ject of this general, as well as of INIarmont, was now to
compel Lord Wellington to abandon Madrid, of which he
had taken unmolested possession ; and as they advanced
with superior forces, and in such a direction as threatened
to cut off his Lordship's communication with the other
British forces in Spain, he evacuated the capital on the 1st
of September, leaving a force under General Hill, which
he hoped would be able to protect it ; but Soult having
joined Joseph Bonaparte, the English general found him-
self under the necessity of abandoning Madrid to its fate.

Lord Wellington, thus compelled to quit the capital, re-
solved, if possible, to bring Marmont to an engagement ;
but previously, it was necessary to reduce Burgos. About
the middle of September, operations were commenced
against this place. The commander, fully sensible of its
importance, and that, till it was reduced, Lord Welling-
ton could not safely advance against Marmont, defended it
with great skill and bravery. Little or no impression had
been made on it, when his Lordship learnt that Souham,
who had succeeded Marmont, was approaching with a
large force, and that General Hill, after the loss of Madrid,
was closly pressed by Soult. This intelligence induced
his Lordship to abandon the siege ; and, in his retreat, he
was closely followed by Souham ; and General Hill re-
treating in such a direction as to join his Lordship, and be-
ing followed by Soult, in a short time the two British and
tlic two French armies were united. As, however, the lat-
ter were much more numerous than the former, they oblig-
ed Lord Wellington to continue his retreat to the confines
of Portugal.

At the close of the campaign, the French armies, exclu-
sively of those which were wholly occupied by the desulto-
ry warfare of the Spaniards, consisted of about 104,000
men ; of these, 72,000 infantry, and 2000 cavalry were un-
der the command of Soult, who directed the armies for.mer-
ly under the command of Joseph Bonaparte and Souham.
Suchet, in the south of Spain, had with him 18,000 infan-
try, and 4,000 cavalry, to oppose the Spaniards there, and
an Anglo-Sicilian force, which had lately landed. Oppos-
ed to the French armies, were about 70,000 British, Gcr-

366

FRANCE.

mans, and Portuguese. Cut of the French, a large pro-
portion consisted of yount; conscripts. With respect to
artillery, the French were superior. The numerical ibrce
of their cavalry was also greater, but they were individual-
ly inferior to the British.

We have already mentioned the causes of the dispute
between the Emperor Alexander and Bonaparte. As the
discussions that took place in 1811, did not promise an
amicable adjustment, Bonaparte prepared for war, by re-
taining possession of the Prussian fortresses in the north of
Germany, and sending large bodies of troops there. Nor
was the Emperor Alexander idle ; he endeavoured, indeed,
to prevent the recurrence of hostilities ; but finding that
impracticable, he used his utmost endeavours to render
the resources of his vast empire available, in the event of
a war with France, and he courted the friendship of Bri-
tain. The organization of the army was also improved.
I5y these measures the Emperor Alexander saw himself, at
the end of 1811, possessed of forces amounting to nearly
400,000 men, 300,000 of which he could bring against the
French. When the dispute between France and Russia
began, the forces which Bonaparte could have spared, in
the event of an immediate war, were comparatively few;
he therefore protracted the negociation, till he had as-
sembled a more numerous, and, in every respect, a better
equipped army, than he had ever before led into the field.
The contingent of the confederation of the Rhine was aug-
mented. The King of Saxony was called upon to join in
the war, on the ground that Russia threatened the Polish
possessions, which Bonaparte had given him. From the
southern extremity of Europe, Murat marched liis Italian
troops. The King of Piussia reluctantly contributed near-
ly all his army ; and Austria was called upon to fulfil her
engagements, by which, in the event of a war, she was to
support France. All the best troops that Bonaparte had
in the Peninsula, were marched to the north of Germany.
In short, all Europe, from the Pyrenees to the Baltic on
its western side, and from the extremity of Italy to the
same sea on its eastern side, and from the Atlantic Ocean
lo the confines of Poland, was leagued, under Bonaparte,
against Russia. For such an immense army, about to in-
vade a country nearly barbarous and desolate, it was neces-
sary to provide enormous stores of provision, ammuni-
tion. Sec. These were all brought up to the north of Ger-
many, and such arrangements for their conveyance made,
as Bonaparte expected would furnish him with a regular
and full supply, till the Emperor Alexander was intimidat-
ed into submission. For there can be no doubt, that he
expected, by the formidable nature ol his preparations, or,
at most, by the decisive blow which he firmly believed he
should soon be able to strike, that Alexander would sue for
peace, on such conditions as he chose to give.

On the 9lh of May, Bonaparte having collected an army
of at least 400,000 men, set out from St Cloud. On the 6th
of June he crossed the Vistula. On the 22d of that month,
he formally declared war against Russia ; and two days af-
terwards he crossed the Niemen, and entered the Russian
territories.

Hitherto the Russians had made little or no resistance ;
but as they had marked out the first line of defence on the
banks of the Dwina, it was supposed that there they would
seriously oppose their invaders. The plan on which they
had resolved to act was, however, different. Knowing the
impetuous activity of Bonaparte, and that he had been ac-
customed to astonish and intimidate by the rapidity of his
movements, and by advancing into the very heart of the
country which he invaded, they hoped to draw him on into
the interior of Russia, far fioni his resources, and to places
->vherc he could not support his army by plunder and con-

tributions. They also anticipated the effects of a Russian
winter, if he should be mad enough to continue in it till
this season. In order that this plan should be carried into
complete and successful execution, it was necessary that
the inhabitants and sol iers of the invaded country should
be such as the Russians were, both of them incapable of
being seduced by the aits of the French, — even deaf to the
promises of liberty, when that blessing was to come from
an enemy. In short, the attachment, both of the Russian
peasantry and the Russian army, to their Emperor and their
country is so strong, that no temptation, no difficulty, can
possibly shake it. But though the plan of the Russians
was to draw Bonaparte into the interior of their vast, deso-
late, and barbarous empire, yet they at the same time de-
termined to oppose him wherever they could do it with ad-
vantage, and thus weaken him as he advanced.

Such was the plan of the Russians, and they acted up
to it with a patriotic perseverance which does them infi-
nite honour. Bonaparte, indeed, was successful, in so far
as driving back the Russians and advancing constituted
success: he even succeeded in dividing one of the Russian
corps from the main army. But as he advanced he found
no signs of intimidation on the part of the Emperor; no
proof of attachment or submission from the people ; and
he must have been sensible that he was leaving his re-
sources far behind, while he could not hope for regular and
sufficient supply from a country never well cultivated or
fertile, and now laid waste and deserted by the inhabitants
as he proceeded. Those discouraging circumstances, how-
ever, did not appear so manifestly while he was in Poland
and Lithuania, as the inhabitants of these districts, not at-
tached to Russia, and regarding Bonaparte as their libera-
tor, received him with gratitude and joy. On the 28lh of
June, he entered Wilna, which he did not leave till the 17th
of July. His transactions during this stay are not clearly
known ; but though he was stationary, the different divi-
sions of his army were on the advance. His plan now be-
gan to unfold itself, and he seemed to be aiming at once on
the destruction of the main Russian army, and the occu-
pation of Petersburg. On the latter enterprise, a corps
under the command of Marshal Macdonald was sent.
The rest of his army followed the line of the retreat of the
Russians.

At Drisna, the Russians had an entrenched camp ; but
as the corps which Bonaparte had succeeded in separating
had not yet come up, this was abandoned, and a position at
Witepsk occupied. On the 24lh of July, they arrived
here, one of their corps having been previously dispatched
to the north to cover Petersburg. On the 25th, 26th, and
27th, three battles took place ; the Russians fought ob-
stinately ; and having succeeded in weakening the French,
again retreated. In the mean time, Marshal Davoust, who
had been sent after the Russian corps which was separated
from the main army, came up with it; and brought it to ac-
tion : but the result was not favourable to him, and he
found himself so weakened that he was not able to prevent
its rejunction. The Fiench army which had marched on the
route to Petersburg, was equally unfortunate. The plan
of its general was to cross the Dwina, come round upon
Riga, and thus cut off the communication with the capital.
But in consequence of his losses on the 30th and 3 1st of
July, in two very severe actions, he was obliged to recross
that river, and the communication between Petersburg and
the main Russian army was thus rendered secure. This
army, on leaving Witepsk, retreated on Smolensk, Bona-
parte still following them; but on account of the nature of
the country, and the extreme difficulty of procuring provi-
sions, he was obliged to disperse his different corps at a
considerable distance from each other; he also began to

FRANCE.

367

experience another serious inconvenience. In other coun-
tries which he had invaded, he had been directed in his
march, either by accurate maps, or by the information and
guidance of the peasantry ; but of this part of the Russian
empire, there were no maps sufficiently accurate and mi-
nute for his purpose, and the peasantry Hcd at his approacli.
He thus advanced, ignorant of his route, and of tlie situa-
tion of his adversaries ; and from these causes we find, even
in the French bulletins, frequent acknowledgments that dis-
astrous surprises took place. But the army suffered most
from fatigue and want of provisions ; so much so, indeed,
that Bonaparte could not move from Witepsk till the mid-
dle of August. From this place he advanced to Smolensk,
where he at length hoped to bring the Russians to a deci-
sive engagement. They did wait for him here, but only
till they had acted on their regular plan ; for after having
fought the French with great steadiness, and caused them
great loss, they again retreated. Soon afterwards, the com-
mand of the grand Russian army was given to Kutusoff,
who resolved to improve upon the plan of his predecessor,
the Baron de Tolly, by offering a more steady and perse-
vering resistance to the enemy, but still retreating, even
after success. On the 18th of August, the French having
thrown a bridge over the Borysthenes, crossed that river ;
and as it was now evident that the Russians meant to re-
treat in the direction of Moscow, Bonaparte endeavoured
to cut them off from that place. In this attempt, however,
he did not succeed at this time ;'and the divisions who were
employed on this occasion suffered severely. The Russian
general continued his retreat, till he arrived at Borodino,
within a short distance of Moscow. Here the position was
so extremely favourable for defence, though it did not
cover the capital, that he resolved at length to try the issue
of a general engagement with the French. Bonaparte,
though he could have reached Moscow without fighting,
preferred attacking Kutusoff. The force on each side was
nearly equal, amounting to about 120,000 men ; for alrea-
dy the French, by the obstinacy of Russian defence, the
incursions of the Cossacks, who continually harassed their
march, and the losses occasioned by disease, fatigue, and
inadequate food, were reduced to this comparatively small
number. The position of the Russians, naturally very
strong, had been further strengthened by art ; their line was
protected by two heights, crowned with redoubts at 100
paces from one another; and the ridge was covered with
artillery and infantry, for the purpose of supporting their
centre. At six o'clock in the morning of the 7th of Sep-
tember, Bonaparte commenced the attack, by attempting
to carry the Russian line by main force. The contest was
murderous, but the issue unfavourable to the French ; and
while they were thus occupied, nearly 30,000 Cossacks cut
their way into the centre of their camp, carrying confusion,
disorder, and dismay, along with them. Bonaparte next
ordered that an attack should be made on the heights ; and
this, after a most sanguinary contest, was partially suc-
cessful. While these operations were going on in one
part of the army, in another part the Russians were the
assailants, and drove back the French. Thus the engage-
ment continued with varying success till night ; and though
the French were undoubtedly masters of one part of the
field of battle, yet, in other parts, they were so much
beaten, that Bonaparte judged it prudent to draw off his
forces.

The Russian general, having thus succeeded in the
great object of the campaign, which was to weaken Bona-
parte as much as passible, and at the same time to draw
him faithcr into the counlry, resolved to abandon Moscow
to its fute; and this he was the more disposed to do, as the
French a; my after the battle had been reinforced by a corps

under Marshal Victor. Bonaparte now saw the capital of
Russia within his reach : and thougli, by the persevcrini';
refusal of the Emperor Alexander to treat, he could hard-
ly expect that the possession of it would bring him to
terms, yet he looked forward to it as a place of refuge against
the severity of the Russian winter, and as the jjrobable de-
pository of those articles of provision and refreshments,
which his army so much wanted. How great then must
have been his mortification and disappointment, when, just
as he was entering Moscow, he belield the flames consu-
ming it ! The patriotic governor, and no less patriotic inha-
bitants, nobly sacrificing their venerated city, — their own
homes and property, rather than that the French should
derive any advantage from them.

Of the hopelessness of the situation of Bonaparte and
his army, at this time<it is scarcely possible to form an
idea : he had indeed conquered Russia, if that could be
called conquest, which consisted in advancing into the in-
terior of a country, after most severe and obstinate fight-
ing, where no provisions were to be had, where all fled
from his approach, and in reaching the capital of that
country, only to behold it in flames. The winter was ap-
proaching,— a Russian winter, — he was at the distance of
500 or 600 miles from a hospitable climate, and from his
resources ; on all sides of him were an enraged peasantry,
and an army accustomed to the climate, acquainted with
the country, and constantly increasing ; whereas his aimy
could receive no increase ; nor even continue at its present
force, diminished as it must daily be by fatigue, want of
provisions, and the severity of the climate. In this dread-
ful crisis, Bonaparte contiued his ucual and favourite sys-
tem of deception. His bulletins, calculated to deceive his
subjects, represented the climate of Russia as mild, the
stores of Moscow as amply sufficient for all the wants of
the army, and the peasantry as rejoicing in the presence of
their invader. Notv/ithstanding the approach of winter,
he lingered in Moscow, in the vain hope that the Emperor
Alexander would agree to peace ; but he knew too well
that the possessor of the ancient capital of Russia was in
fact at his mercy ; and he positively refused to negotiate.

At length, the proud and obstinate spirit of Bonaparte
gave way, and he resolved to retreat ; but even this was re-
presented in his bulletins as only a lateral movement on
Petersburgh. His resolution, however, was formed loo
late: had he left Moscow as soon as ever his army was re-
freshed and prepared for retreat, and before the approach
of winter was so near, he might have escaped the iniparal-
leled disasters which befel him ; but by delaying it till the
middle of October, he rendered it impossible for him to
proceed far, before the seventy of a Russian winter would
attack his troops, while he gave time for the enemy to com-
plete their operations for harassing them. These prepara-
tions, indeed, were extensive. On every side the Russians
were collected ; and especially immense numbers of Cos-
sacks, admirably calculated for this mode of warfare.

Before Bonaparte could leave Moscow, it was necessary
to drive back the grand Russian army, which occupied the
Kalouga road, by which he meant to proceed; this Murat,
who commanded the cavalry, attempted; but he was de-
feated with dreadful loss. In consequence of this defeat,
Bonaparte was compelled to abandon his intention of re-
treating by the route of Kalouga ; but in order to deceive
Kutusoff, he began his march in that direction, and after-
wards turned oft' on the road to Smolensk. He himsell
marched with the van of his army, surrounded by the Im-
perial gaurds: the Viceroy of Italy brought up the rear.

As soon as Kutusoff was informed of the route which
the French army had taken, he began his march in a pa-
rallel line, leaving it to the other divisions of the army, and

io8

FRANCE.

espechl!)' tl:e Cossacks, lo Iiaiig on the rear ami the flanks
of the enemy. No words can paint the misei'y and suffer-
ings of the French during this retreat. " Scarcely had
rhey, worn out by a day's march, along broken and deep
roads, during which they were constantly obliged to be
cither on the alert, or actually fighiiii!?;, lain down on the
wet and cold ground, to obtain a little rest or sleep, when
the Cossacks rushed into their camps, and before the men
could prepaie themselves for resistance or defence, many
were killed — all were thrown into confusion and dismay,
and their artillery and stores carried off." While they
-.vere thus exposed to the sudden and irregular attacks of
the Cossacks, Kiitusoff seized every opportunity of bring-
ing them to battle. On the 24th of October, he attacked
them most vigorously ; the French fought with desperation,
but their strength was at length worn out, and they were
compelled to retreat with the loss of 16 pieces of cannon.
After this defeat, Bonaparte pushed forward before his
army towards Smolensko, the Imperial guard alone accom-
panying him in his rapid and disgraceful flight.

It is impossible to describe the losses and sufferings of
the French till they arrived at this place. About the be-
ginning of November, the Russian winter set in with more
than usual severity, and on the first day of the frost nearly
30,000 horses perished. " All possibility of carrying for-
ward their artillery was now at an end : the spirits of the
soldiers completely deserted them; they crawled on, expos-
ed to the most dreadful cold, exhausted with fatigue and
hunger, emaciated and almost naked. The road was lite-
rally blocked up with tlie dead i.nd the dying ; they had no
power to defend themselves against the Cossacks, who con-
stantly hovered around them : they had no inclination to do
it: death to them would have been a blessing : at the sight
of the Cossacks they hoped their miseries would soon be
terminated ; but their enemies were not so merciful as to
put them to death : piercing them with wounds, stripping
off the little covering they had, they left them in the snow,
there bleeding and naked, to the rigours of a Russian win-
ter. Whenever the French entered any village, where
there was the least chance of repose or food, they exerted
their little remaining strength, and crawled on their hands
and feet to seek it. Frequently, just as they had stretched
out their hands to seize a little food, or reached the thres-
hold of a wretched hut, under which they looked for shelter
frotit the weather, perhaps for a few minutes sleep, the
remnant of their strength failed them, and they expired."

It may well be conceived, how little able such an army
Avas to resist the regular Russian troops; yet occasionally
despair lent them strength, and they fought obstinately,
but never successfully. In addition to their miseries, tiiey
lost all coniidence in Bonaparte, and in fact could no longer
be said to compose an army; ignorant of the roads, and
afraid to meet with the Cossacks, they wandered in all di-
rections, or actually laid themselves down to die. Every
day witnessed the diminution of their numbers by defeat,
or the effects of famine and the climate ; but their most
serious loss took place at Krasnoi, where Kutusoff com-
pletely routed them ; the division of Davoust, nearly 24,000
strong, being, for the most part, killed, wounded, or taken
prisoners. A few days afterwards, the division of Ney at-
tacked the Russians, but they were repulsed, and being
surrounded, 12,000 laid down their arms. But it is not pos-
sible, within our limits, to particularise all tiie disasters to
which they were exposed : The passage of the Beresina,
however, must not be omitted ; here the siiughter was
dreadful, for Bonaparte, after he had crossed it with part of
his troops, perceiving that the Russ'ins were close behind
him, ordered the bridge to be set on fire, and thus exposed
hi» soldiers to most dreadful destruction, both from the

flames and the enemy. After this their retreat to Wihia
was not so disastrous : before, however, the troops arrived
there, Bonaparte left Hi-ni, travelling in a sledge Vncc^m/o,
along wilh Caulincourt, and returned to Puris on the IStli
of December. Murat was left in coiiimand ; but he soon
followed the example that had been set him ; and the com-
mand of the disorganized remains of tliis once most nume-
rous and formidable army devolved on li)e Viceroy of Italy.
The loss of the Frencli in this campaign cannot be esti-
mated lower than 300,000 men ; and this loss was 'iutirely
occasioned by the mad and obstinate ambuion o( Bonaparte ;
for when we recollect tliat, '•' at the close of suirimcr, he
led an immense army into the very heart of Russia — into a
country, in which winter reigns with most intense and un-
broken severity for half the year; tliat in front, and rear,
and both sides of this army, were immense bodies of troops,
inured to the climate, and cutting off all chance of procur-
ing provisions; and that this army, when compelled to re-
treat, had to march upwards of 300 miles, witliout shelter,
almost without food and cloathing, on roads broken up, or
rendered nearly impassable by the snow, exposed to the
most intense cold, and harassed night and day by clouds of
Cossacks, we may be astonished at the insane rashness of
Bonaparte, but we cannot be surprised that nearly the
whole of his army was destroyed."

That division of the French army which marched on the
road to Petersburg, shared the fate of the main army; for,
not being able to gain possession of Riga, and being con-
tinually opposed by the Russians, while Bonaparte would
not allow it to retreat, till he himself had retired, it suffer-
ed nearly in an equal degree, both from the enemy, and the
severity of the climate.

It has already been stated, that the French Bulletins re-
presented Bonaparte's advance into Russia as the conquest
of that country, and his possession of Moscow as the com-
pletion of his triumph. The real state of the case, how-
ever, was known at Paris; and even he, soon after he left
Moscow, could no longer conceal it. His twenty-ninth bul-
letin exposed his disgrace and disasters in more complete
nakedness to the citizens of Paris, than they had ever be-
fore witnessed. They believed, or hoped, that his situation
was even more despeiate than he admitted. A report of
his death was spread. Part of the national guard betrayed
symptoms of open opposition to his government ; but the
plot, not being laid with judgment and caution, was delect-
ed, and the ringleaders apprehended. The intelligence of
it is supposed to have contributed to induce Bonaparte to
quit the army, and return to Paris.

As the yoke of Bonaparte had been impatiently borne by
the Prussians, the defection of a corps of them, which had
been attached to the French army that marched on the
road to Petersburg, was not surprising. Macdonald, who
commanded this army, being thus weakened, and being,
moreover, harassed by the Russians, retreated in great dis-
order ; abandoning Koningoberg to its fate, and directing
his flight to the Vistula. Across this river the remnant of
the French also fled, pursued by their unwearied and im-
placable enemy.

The King of Prussia, being still in some measure in the
power of the French, knew not how to act. His interest,
as well as his inclination, led him to justify the defection of
his generals, and openly to abandon the French ; but he
was apprehensive, that if Bonaparte recovered from his
losses, he might again be reduced under his power. In
these circumstances, on the 15th of February 1813, he
made a proposal for a truce, on condition that the Russians
should retire behind the Vistula, and the French behind
the Elbe, leaving Prussia entirely free from foreign occupa-
tion. To this proposal, however, neither party agreed. In

FRANCE.

369

t'lie mean lime, Ronaparte was cicseiteil by the Austrian
auxiliaries, wlio, indeed, had been of very little service
during the campaign.

The Frcncli still continued their retreat; for a short
time they appeared as if they would have made a stand at
Berlin ; but finding the people of Prussia decidedly hostile
to them, they quitted that city on the iii;^ht of March 3d,
and the Russians entered it on the followinij morning,
when they were received as friends and deliverers. The
French, on leaving Berlin, retreated on the line of the Elbe,
towards Magdeburg, where they concentrated their force,
and strengthened themselves by draughts from Dresden
and Leipsic — the king of Saxony still adhering to their
cause. On the 2d of April, the Russians and Prussians
first fought together against the French, in the vicinity of
Luneburg : the combat was long and sanguinary, but a
complete victory was obtained by the allies. The Rus-
sians at this time were divided into three armies ; one had
crossed the Elbe, in order to drive the French towards the
Maine ; the second was employed in the siege of Dantzic
and Thorn ; and the third was posted at Custrin and Dres-
den ; the Prussians were distributed in Saxony, Berlin,
Hamburgh, and Rostock, and also invested Stettin. The
Crown Piince of Sweden, who had long promised his as-
sistance to the allies, was expected at Stralsund, to take
tlK; command of 50,000 men. I'rom this account of the
extent of country over which the allied armies were spread,
may easily be collected the loss of territory which the
French had sustained.

Notwithstanding this loss, however, and the still more
important loss of his best soldiers, and the blow which had
been given to his military reputation, Bonaparte resolved
to hazard another campaign ; for this purpose, he exerted
all his activity and vigour in calling forth the resouixes of
France, in order again to place his army on a formidable
footing. By a senatus consultum of the 11th of January,
350,000 men were placed at his disposal ; and shortly af-
terwards, in the annual expose, a very flattering account
of the state of the French empire was published, in which
its population was rated so high as 42 700,000. At length
Bonaparte, having appointed the Empress Regent during
his absence, set out for the army on the 5th of April, and
arrived at Mentz on the 20th. This army consisted of 12
corps, besides the Imperial guards: the different divisions
were directed to march in such directions, as to form a
junction near Jena and upon the Saale. The head quar-
ters of the Russian army, now commanded by Witgenstein,
in consequence of the death of KutusofI', were to the north
of Leipsic ; the Prussians, under Blucher, were to the
south of that city.

The first battle .was fought in the plain of Lutzen. It
was brought on by the Russian general, who wished to
prevent the junction of the difTei'enl divisions of the French
army. The Prussians, eager to avenge the wrongs their
country had sustained from France, began the contest ; and
it soon became general along the line. The villages in
front were several times taken and retaken, and the action
continued with great carnage till seven of the evening of tlie
2d of May. The allies kept possession of the field ; the
3d of May passed without tigliting, and on the 4th Bona-
parte retreated. But liis retreat was not continued far;
for the allies, though victorious, had so weakened them-
selves by their victory, that they could not oppose the ad-
vance of the French to the Elbe, which river they crossed
at Dresden on the 6th and 7th ; and at this place Bona-
parte fixed his head (luartcrs. The King of Saxony hav-
ing now joined the French with his forces, the allies con-
tinued to retreat, and took up a position on the heights

Vol. IX, Part I.

overhanging the Spree, with the centre of their front line
behind Bautzen.

Here Bonaparte resolved to attack them, with his main
army in front, while the divisions of Ncy, Lauriston, and
Regnier, turned their right. The latter part of this plan
was foreseen and frustrated by the Russian General, who
ordered these divisions of the French to be separately
attacked; this took place on the 19th. At four in
the morning of the 20th, the grand attack by the French
main army commenced ; and after seven hours hard fight-
ing, they so far prevailed, that the allies were obliged to
fall back to Hochkirchen. On the 21st they were again
attacked in this position ; this battle was still more obsti-
nately contested than the former; but it also ended in the
allies again retreating, but in good order, and presenting a
formidable front to the French. The track of their retreat
was towards Silesia, the capital of which was entered by
Lauriston on the 1st of June.

In consequence of the necessity under which the allies
were placed of calling in all their separate corps to make
up for their losses, or to put them out of danger from the
advancing foe, Hamburgh was evacuated by them ; and
after a short time, and an ineffectual resistance, again oc-
cupied by the French.

Bonaparte had hitherto been successful, and had driven
the allies before him ; but his successes and his advance
had been dearly purchased ; he therefore listened to the
Emperor of Austria, who offered his mediation. In con-
sequence of it, a cessation of hostilities took place, and it
was agreed that a congress should be held at Prague. But
this congress produced no pacific result; and the Empe-
ror of Austria, from a mediator, became an enemy to Bo-
naparte, as soon as he saw that he was not sincerely disposed
for peace. The Crown Prince of Sweden also had by this
time landed in Germany ; so that the enemies of Bonaparte
were greatly increased. The immediate vicinity of Dres-
den was the principal scene of the most important actions,
all of which terminating in favour of the allies, their ad-
vanced guard encamped on the heights above that city on
the 26th of August. On the following day the French
abandoned their ground before Dicsden,and withdrew into
the suburbs, and their dift'crent works, which they had ren-
dered extremely sti'ong. Against them, hov/ever, though
estimated at 130,000 men, thus defended, the allies re-
solved to move : but their enterprise was unsuccessful :
and on the following day, the 28th of August, the French
became the assailants, the allies occupying a very extended
position on the heights round the city. In this engagement.
General Moreau, who had come over from America to op-
pose Bonaparte, was mortally wounded. Tlie result of it
was, that the allies retreated in the evening, having sustain-
ed a very considerable loss. They were pursued by a
large division of the Fiench under Generals Vandamme
and Bcrtraiid ; who were at first successful, but being un-
expectedly attacked on all sides by fresh corps of the Aus-
trians and Prussians, A'andamme and 10,000 of his men
were taken prisoners.

The allies were also successful in Silesia, the recovery
of which from the French was entrusted to Blucher. Hav-
ing defeated M;u'shal Macdonald, and taken 18,000 prison-
ers, on the banks of the Katsbach, on the 2d of September,
he encamped ncarGorlitz, and in an address to his troops,
congratulated them on the deliveraiice of Silesia from the
enemy.

On the 6th of this month, the Crown Prince of Sweden,
having collected the Swedish and Russian armies, was in-
formed that about 70.000 T the French, under the com-
mand ofNey, were in full march upon Juterboch, in order

370

FRANCE.

to attack a very inferior corps stationed there. He immc-
tliately ordered tlie Prussians under Bulow to support tliis
corps, while he advanced as quickly as possible. Tlie
Prussians fought nobly against much superior numbers ;
and as soon as tlie columns of the Prince's army l;egan
Co appear, the French retreated. In this action they lost
nearly 18,000 men, and 80 pieces of cannon.

The whole of the allies now approached Dresden in
different directions ; but Bonaparte, not cured of that ob-
stinacy which had occasioned the ruin of his army at iVIos-
cow, persevered in remaining in Dresden till he found that
the allies, by directing their principal efforts towards
Leipsic, would completely cut him olV from I-'rancc, unless
ho quitted it, On the 7th of October, therefore, he left
Dresden in company with the King of Saxony, and took up
a position in the neighbourhood of Leipsic. About this
time he was deserted by the King of Bavaria, who ordered
55,000 of his troops under General Wrede to act with the
Austrians. The allies having collected their respective
armies round Leipsic resolved to attack the French in va-
rious points. Several very severe battles took place in con-
sequence of this, in all of which tiie French were defeated ;
and at length they were obliged to concentrate their whole
force in the inmiediate suburbs of the town. On the 16th
of October, the grand army of the allies made a general
attack to the south of it ; but after a dreadful slaughter,
they could not succeed in dislodging the French. The
17th was chiefly occupied in preparing for a renewal of
the contest. On the morning of the 18th, the different ar-
mies of the allies advanced from the villages round Leip-
sic, for their grand attack on the city. Duiing the battle,
some Saxon and Westphalian regiments abandoned Bona-
parte, and went over to th& allies. Few contests are on
record, that have been more dreadful or more decisive than
the battle of Leipsic ; the result of which was, that the
French lost, in kilk-,', wounded, and prisoners, 40,000 men,
and 65 pieces of artillery : seventeen German battalions
also deserted from thi>m and joined the conquerors. On
the morniixg of the lyth, the King of Saxony sent a flag
of truce to the Emperor Alexander, requesting kirn to
spare the town ; but an immediate assault was ordered, and
by eleven o'clock the allies were in possession of it, two
hours after Bonaparte had made his escape. In it were
taken the rear guard of the French, amounting to 30,000,
and their sick and wounded, nearly 22,000, besides their
magazines, artillery, and stores.

The retreat of the French was marked by the most ex-
treme confusion and disorder ; and if we take into account,
that it was made at a more favourable season of the year,
and through a country better adapted to a retreating army,
u cannot be deemed less disastrous or disgraceful than the
retreat from Russia. The line of their retreat was on
Frankfort : they were' followed by the Prussian General
D'York, while the combined Austrian and Bavarian army
was posted at Hanau to intercept them. Here, on the 29th
of October, a partial engagement took place, in which the
French were successful. On the 31st Bonaparte fixed his
head quarters at Frankfort; and on the 2cl of November
he arrived at Mentz, whence he proceeded shortly after-
wards to Paris.

On the Hthof November, he replied to the address of
the Senate, in language of apparent frankness, acknow-
ledging his disasteis, but appealing to the French nation
for support under ihem. Two deciees were immediately
passed, one imposing additional taxes, and the other order-
tug a levy of 300,000 conscripts, as the enemy had invaded
the frontiers on the side of the Pyrenees and the not th, and
as those of the Rhine and beyond the Alps were threaten-
ed. The naturaJ effect of bis reverses iiov/ began to ap-

pear : a revolution broke out in Holland, which, being as-
sisted by the English, ternunated in separating thai country
from France. Hanover also was entered, and liberated by
the Crov/n Prince of Sweden. Bremen and Embden were
recovered. The Viceroy of Italy, unable to cope with the
Austrians, abandoned Trieste and the Dalmatian coast;
and Dresden and Stettin, with their numerous garrisons,
surrendered to the combined forces.

The allied sovereigns, who had assembled at Frankfort,
published a declaration on the 1st of Dcctmber, laying
open their views with regard to France. Against that
coimtry they did not make war, but against the insatiable
ambition of Bonaparte, to whom they had already offered
fair and honourable terms of peace, but in vain. It was for
the advantage of Europe, that France should be indepea-
dent and great. This they did not wish to prevent ; so far
from it, if they succeeded in their plans, they would leave
her so ; but they were also determined that their states
should, for the future, be also independent, — no longer lia-
ble to the tyranny and ambition of Bonaparte. The last
twenty years had witnessed unparalleled cdamities heaped
on Europe : They trusted they had now in their power to "
put an end to t'lese calamities, and they were resolved to
do so. This declaration, so moderate and liberal, displeas-
ed Bonaparte. There was nothing in it on which he
could lay hold, as nuuiifesting an intention to injure the
honour or weaken the just power of France ; he therefore
replied to it in general and ambiguous terms, in his speech
before the Legislative Body on the 19th of December,
maintaining, ttiat the allies alone were to blame if peace
had not been concluded, as he had adhered to their prelimi-
nary basis ; adding, however, that if peace were made, it
must be on terms consistent with honour.

In the month of December, the allies crossed the Rhine
and invaded France. This operation was performed with
little or no opposition at various points, not a single French
army appearing in the field to defend the frontier. The
strong fort of Iluningen, in Alsace, was invested, and the
allied troops spread over that province and FrancheCompie.
Under these ciicumstances, Bonaparte issued a decree on
the 26th of December, announcing the mission of senators,
or councillors of state, into the military divisions, to act as
coinmissioners extraordinary, armed with powers to provide
and organize the rr\eans of defence ; and thus, in fact, sus-
pending all the magistracies, and other authorities in the
country, and extending the immediate agency of military
despotism to every part. There were thirty commission-
ers appointed, who were to be attended by as many law of-
ficers. These efforts, however, were unavailing, and their
result proved at once, that the French people were wea-
ried out with calamity, and were disposed to regard the al-
lies rather as friends than foes, and that the authority and
power of Bonaparte v.ere drawing to a close ; for he must
have expected, either that the people would have risen of
their own accord, when called upon to defend their coun-
try, or that he possessed tlie means of compelling their
services on this occasion ; neither of which took place to
any considerable extent.

We must nov/ turn to the affairs of the peninsula. In
December, 1812, the l-'rench main army, now under the
command of Drouet, was in the neighbourhood of Sala-
manca and Vi.dlailoiid, occupying various posts on the line
of the Tagus. Joseph Bonaparte was at iVIadrid.and Soult
had his head quarters at Toledo. Thus all the central
parts of Spain were in the power of the F'rench. Lord
Wellington was at Freynada, on the frontiers of Portugal,
about the middle of March ; nearly all the French troops
were withdrawn from La INIancha, and the army of the
south was concentrated between Talavcra, Madrid, and

FRANCE.

ToTfedo, Joseph Bonaparte having quiUccI Madrid. These
movements, and others connected with them, indicated lliat
Iheir plan was to retire from the central ])rovinces, and
take strong positions in the north and nortli-east. In the
south-east ol' Spain, Siicbet had been obliged to quit Va-
lencia, in consequence of some successes gained by the
Anglo Sicilian army under Sir John Murray. In April,
the main French array was still occupied in moving from
the Tagus to the Douro ; but their force was much weak-
ened, as during February and March, nearly 25,000 men
had been sent into France, to assist Bonaparte in his Cier-
Hwn campaign.

These movements an."! indications of the French, deter-
mined the plan of Lord Wellington. On the 36th of May,
he fixed his head quarters at Salamanca. Here a slight
sivirmish took place. His ainiy afterwards continued to
advance to Toro, the French pereevering in their plan of
evacuating the central provinces. On the 7th of June,
Lord Wellington crossed the Carrion, and soon after recon-
noitcrcd a strong position which the French occupied at
Burgos. This, howevex, they did not defend, but retired
with their whole force in the night, marching towards
the Ebro, on the road to Miranda. On the 14th and I5th
Lord Wellington crossed that river, and continued his
march towards Vittoria.

Joseph Bonaparte was now the nominal commander of
the grand French army ; but the actual command was
vested in Marshal Jourdan. The army consisted of the
whole of the armies of the south and the centre, of four
divisions, and aH the cavalry of the army of Portugal, and
some troops of the army of the north. On the 19th of
June, it took up a position in front of Vittoria. On the
20th Lord Wellington's army halted, and his Lordship re-
connoitered the French. On the21at he attacked them,
■ and gained a most signal and glorious victory. The retreat
of the French was so rapid, that they were unable to di'aw
off their baggage and artillery, the whole of which fell
into the hands of the victors. The French retreated by
the high road to their own country, first to Panipeluna, and
on the 25th by the road of Roncesvalles into France ; a
brigade of the army of Gallicia, under General Castanos,
driving them across the Bidassoa, the boundary river, over
the bridge of Irun.

^Marshal Suchet was still in the south-east of Spain,
whese Sir John Murray was employed in besieginji Tarra-
gona. As the relief of this place was of the utmost im-
portance, the Marshal collected about 20,000, and advanc-
ed towards it. Sir John Murray, not deeming himself
sufficiently strong to meet his opponent, reimbarkcd with
so much precipitation, as to give rise to much complaint
and censure of his conduct.

In the mean time, though the main French army had
actually evacuated the Peninsula, and entered their ov.ii
country, part of their troops still maintained themselves in
the valley of Bastan ; of which, on account of its richness
and strong positions, Ihey seemed resolved to keep pos-
session. Against them, therefore, a detachment of the
British were sent, who succeeded in dislodging them. It
was now supposed, that the French would retiie quietly
before their ton(|uerors ; but Bonaparte, notwithstanding
his reverses in tiie Peninsula and Germany ought to have
taught him the necessity of confining himself to one ob-
ject, still persevered in his resolution to lecover Spain, if
possible. For this purpose Soult, certainly his best gene-
ral, and who had greatly distinguished himself in the south
of Spain, was appointed, by an imperial decree, com-
mander in chief of the French army in Spain and the
southern provinces of France. He joined tlie troops on
the loth of July, and on the 24th collected at St Jean the

right and left wings, amounting in all to 30,000 or 40,000
men ; with whom, on the subsequent day, he attackjd the
British forces that weie posted at Roncesvalles: JIavini'-
turned their position, they were obliged to abandon it!
On the same and the following days, to the end of the
month, Soult repeated his attacks; while, on the 30tK,
Lord Wellington became the assailant, and obliged the
French to abandon a position, said by his Lordship to he
" one of the strongest, and most difficult of access, that he
had yet seen occupied by troops." The result of all these
operations was, that though the French at first succeeded
in driving in part of Lord Wellington's army, yet on the
night of the 1st of August it occupied the same position-;
which it had done on the 25th of July. Soult vvas now-
posted behind the Puerto. From this position Lord Wel-
lington resolved, to dislodge him, by a comlTined move-
ment of three advanced divisions. One of these, however,
being first formed, commenced the attack by itself, and
actually drove the two divisions of the enemy from the
heights which they occupied. Thus this part of the
Spanish frontier was entirely freed from the presence and
occupation of the French.

The strong fortresses of Pampeluna and St Sebastian
still held out. The former was besieged by the Spaniards;
the latter by Sir Thomas Graham. An unsuccessful at-
tack was made on Si Sebastian on the 25th of August,
which cost the British many lives. This, howeverj did
not deter Sir Thomas Graham from renewing the attack ;
but the attempt seemed nearly desperatt, when the as-
sailants having made repeated but fruitless exeitions to
gain an entrance, no man surviving the attempt to mount
the narrow ridge of the curtain, he adopted tlic critical and
venturous expedient of ordering the guns to be turnod
against the curtain, the shot of which passed only a few-
feet over the heads of the men at the foot of the breach-.
This manoeuvre, joined to the success of the Portuguese
in another quarter, decided the fate of St Sebastian. But
Soult was too deeply sensible- of its importance to permit
it to fall, without making an effort to relieve it. Fle there-
fore made several desperate attacks on the allied army ;
but, though several of them were directed against the
Spaniards and Portuguese, they repulsed them with great
bravery and steadiness ; and on the 18th of September the
castle of St Sebastian surrendered.

On the 7lh of October, Lord Wellington crossed the
Bidassoa and entered France ; but he did not commence
oflensive operations till the fall of Pampeluna had disen-
gaged the right of his army from its blockade. Having-
now all his forces at liberty, he resolved to execute a grand
operation against the French. Ever since the beginning
ot August, they had occupied a position, with their right
upon the sea, in front of the town of St Jean de Luz, their
centre on a village and the high grounds behind it, and
their left on a strong height. This position, naturally ad-
vantageous, they had fortified with great skill and care.
Lord Wellington soon determined on his plan of attack ;
but the execution of it he was obliged to defer, in conse-
quence of the heavy rains. On the 10th of November,
however, the weather proving favourable, he commenced
his attack, the object of which was to force the centre of
the enemy, ami establish the allied army in the rear of their
right. The various attacks to accomplish these objects
began at day light, and it was night before the rear of the
right of the French aimy was gained. On the next morn-
ing they were pursued across the Nivelle, and on the fol-
lowing night they retired to an entrenched camp in the
front of Bayonne. As, however, they still held posts on
the rivers Adour and Nive, Lord Wellington caused a
series of manueuvres and operations to take place on the

3 A 2

372

FRANCE.

9tli, 10th, lull, \2ili, and 13th cl' Decembei', the result of
which was, that the French were diivcn from most of their
])osiiions, and obliged to confine themselves to the vicinity
of hayonnc.

In the mean time, Suchet, iYi the south-east of Spain,
seemed resolved to maintain himself, notwithstanding tiic
retreat of the French main army from the Peninsula. Sir
John Murray having been recalled, Lord William Bcn-
tinck had assumed the command of the Arjj!;lo-Sicilian
army. His first operalion was to resume tlie siege of
Tarragona, which Sir John had abandoned on the advance
of Suchet. But the Marshal again advancing with nearly
25,000, Lord William Bentinck was obliged to imitate the
example of his predecessor, and retreat upon Cambrilly.

By the middle of January 1814, part of the allied army
occupied Langres, an ancient and considerable town, 100
miles within the French frontier : till they reached it, there
was not a single shot fired at them by any body but the
military. Bonaparte had not yet quitted Paris, and had
not been able to collect any considerable force. The troops
he had mustered were under the command of Marshals
Victor and Marmont, the former of whom advanced into
Alsace, to oppose the Bavarians, under General Wredc ;
but not being able to cope with them, he abandoned this
province, and retired into Lorraine. Here an engage-
ment, the first on French ground, took place : Victor was
defeated, and oljliged to continue his retreat to Luneville.
By the middle of January, the Cossacks, who had entered
France in great numbers, gave a clear proof in what a de-
fenceless slate it was, by pushing on between Epinal and
Nancy, unsupported by any regular troops.

The second French army, under the command of Mar-
mont, was opposed to Blucher, whose troops had crossed
the Rhine near Col)lentz and Manheim ; but he found it
necessary to retreat before the Prussian general, and take
\ip a position behind the Saare. Even here he could not
long continue ; for by the end of January he had fled to
Verdun, while Victor was at Commency ; and the addi-
tional troops which Bonaparte had placed under the com-
mand of Mortier and Macdonald, were at Chaumont and
Namur. The allies, at this time, occupied Lorraine, as
far as the Meuse, all xVIsace, Franche ComptC) and great
part of Burgundy. Such, however, was the embarrass-
ment of Bonaparte, that he had not yet quitted Paris. Not-
withstanding the representations of his force, and the fa-
vourable disposition of the French, which were given in
the French official newspapers, his means to cope with
.the allies were so inadequate, that he resolved to sue for
peace. The allied sovereigns had taken up their head
quarters atChatillon ; and thither Caulincourt, Bonaparte's
minister, was directed to proceed. But peace was not ex-
pected, even by the most sanguine ; for though the allies
vere sincerely disposed towards it, and the Emperor of
Austria was suspected of a leariiiig towards his son-in-law,
^vhich retarded his cordial co-operation with them, yet the
character of Bonaparte left no doubt, that his sole object
was delay, in order to augment his forces ; and that, if he
■were again successful, his conduct would be as ambitious
and overbearing as before. A congress, however, was held
at Chatillon, which was attended by the allied sovereigns in
person, and by Caulincourt on the part of Bonaparte, and
Lord Castlereagh on the part of Cireat Britain.

In consequence of the rapid advance of the allies, the
more young and active members of the Bourbon family
left England, and embarked for the continent towards the
end of January. This step they took entirely of their own
accord, since none of the allied powers had given them
reason to believe that they would declare or support Louis
XVIII. On the contrary, ihcy had solemnly engaged not

to interfere in the internal government of France, and were
even disposed to treat with Bonaparte. But the Bourbon
princes knew their adherents were numerous in different
parts of France, and tiicse they wislicd to increase and ani-
mate by their presence and example.

The situation of Bonaparte, already extremely embar-
rassing, was rendered still more so, by the stoppage of the
national bank of France. By the report of the directors,
it appeared that their ready money amounted only to
000,000/., which, from the eagerness of the holderi of
notes to obtain payment, would be exhausted in a very
few days. In ortlcr therefore to prevent the draining of
the bank, it was announced, that whatever number of notes
might be preseijled for payment in the course of the day,
not more than ilie value of 20,000/. would be paid ; and
that no one would be paid, unless he were the bearer of a
number delivered to him by the mayor of his quarter.
This measure was by no means calculated to remedy the
evil effectually ; and even as far as it was efiicacious, it
only produced an evil of greater magnitude, by diminish-
ing the public confidence, and proclaiming to the people,
that their just demands on the bank were to depend for
payment on the certificate of those who were entirely under
the controul of Bonaparte.

At length Bonaparte, having appointed Maria Louisa
regent, left Paris on the 2nh of January. The French
armies were retreating from different quarters towards
Chalons on the Marne, for the purpose of assembling with-
in the line of the Meuse. The allied armies, were concen-
trating and pressing on the same point. Blucher by the
way of Nancy and Ton), and Schwartzcnberg, who had
the chief command of the Austrian and Russian armies,
by Langres and Chaumont. About the begi;in:ng of Fe-
bruary, these two grand armies came entirely into com-
munication with each other, when two corps of Austrians
were placed under the command of Blucher. This gene-
ral immediately made his dispositions for attacking the
French, who rested their riglit at Dienville, their centre at
La Rotherie, and their left near Tremilly. After some
partial movements and operations, by which part of the
allies got possession of an important position, which Bona-
parte in vain attempted to recover, a most desperate en-
gagement took place at La Rotherie. Bonaparte led on
his troops in person, and at first was successful ; but the
allies, fighting under the eye of their sovereigns, and ani-
mated by the example of Blucher, who bore a deadly ha-
tred to Bonaparte, opposed them with superior firmness
and perseverance. The battle lasted till ten at night, when
the Russians remained masters of La Rotheiie, though the
French held the ground beyond it, and at midnight, on the
1st of February, were in possession of the heights of
Bricnne, near which their right had been posted at the
commencement of the engagement. Bonaparte, fully sen-
sible of the extreme importance of La Rotherie, made
many desperate attempts to regain it, but being opposed
by Blucher in person, he was in ail of them unsuccessful ;
and at last he was compelled to retreat, with a loss of 40
pieces of cannon, and 4000 prisoners. He retreated first
to Troyes, and afterwards to Nogent. On the 5th of Fe-
bruary, Marshal Macdonald was defeated by D'York, be-
tween Vltrey and Chalons.

The allies followed the beaten and retreating foe as
rapidly as they could. On the 7th of February, they enter-
ed Troyes, where Prince Schwartzcnberg fixed his head
quarters, Marshal Blucher being about 20 miles to the
nortli of this town. The French people beheld these dis-
asters of their monarch, and the advance and successes of
the allies in general, with equal indifference. Notwith-
standing Bonaparte painted in the most dreadful colours

FRANCE.

573

the cruelties of the Cossacks, and called upon ihcm to rise
en 7>iasse to defend their country from these barbarians,
they remained unmoved ;ind quiet. The allies did not in-
vite them, much less require them to rise in favour of the
Bourbons ; and even in some cases, as tliey were still
negociating with Uonaparte at Chatillon, they rather re-
pressed the loyal expressions of the people in favour of
their legitimate sovereign. As therefore they felt no afl'ec-
tion for Bonaparte, and found that the allies performed
their prornisc in neither forcing the Bourbons on them,
nor plundering their country, they gladly remained quiet,
and, to all appearance, almost indifferent spectators of the
great contest that was carrying on in the iTiidst of them.

Bonaparte finding himself unequal to contend with both
the allied armies, pursued liis usual plan of directing his
whole force, first against one singly, in the hope if he
succeeded, of overwiielming the otiier : and as Blucher
had separated himself to a considerable distance from the
rest of the allies, Bonaparte resolved to follow him. Be-
fore, lio«'cvcr, he did this, he made a rapid and unex-
pected movement to the north of Nogent, where he attack-
ed a Russian corps, and took the whole of them prisoners.
On the 14ih of February, having joined Marmont, he ad-
vanced against Blucher, who being inferior in numbers, and
particularly in cavalry, formed his infantry into squares, and
retreated. Bonaparte followed him, but notwithstanding
his attacks were almost incessant and very desperate, he
made little or no impression, not one of the squares being
broken. In order to intercept the retreat of Blucher, Bo-
naparte had ordered a corps of cavalry to push forward and
get into his line ; but Blucher forced his way through it,
by opening a heavy fire of artillery and musketry. At
night he reached Etoges, but here he was assailed by a
body of infantry, which had penetrated through bye roads
on his flanks and rear ; he was therefore again under the
necessity of renewing the attack, and was again success-
ful. In the mean time, the entrenched camp, which Bo-
naparte had formed for the protection of his army of re-
serve at Soissons, was assailed by General Winzingerode
with such impetuosity, that nearly 3000 men were taken,
and the town itself was entered.

While Bonaparte was pursuing Blucher, the grand army
put itself in motion on the left. On the ilth of February,
a division of it carried by assault the town of Sens, 82 miles
south-east of Paris, and afterwards joined the Bavarians
under General Wrede. Other divisions of the allies ad-
vanced nearly in the same direction ; so that by the mid-
dle of February, they had spread themselves about 40 miles
along the course of the Seine. Marshals Victor and Oudi-
not, to whom the protection of this important river had
been entrusted, alarmed at the advance of such superior
numbers, abandoned the left bank, and destroyed the bridges;
these, however, being soon re-established. Prince Schwart-
zenberg, the commander in chief of the allies, fixed his
head quarters at Bray. The allies, however, had now
spread themselves so much, and thereby so weakened their
line, that Bonaparte, returning quickly from the pursuit of
Blucher, gained some advantages over part of the grand
army, and in consequence of this the commander in chief
united the whole of it behind the Seine. Part of it was
posted near a bridge over this river ; this Bonaparte re-
peatedly attacked, but was repulsed three times with great
slaughter. As, however, it was of the greatest importance
for him to gain this position, he renewed the attack the
fourth time, and obtaining possession of the bridge, passed
over a considerable part of his army.

Blucher, though he retreated before Bonaparte, no soon-
er found that his adversary was gone against another part
of the allies, than he resolved again to advance j his object

evidently being to press on, if possible, to Paris itself.
After having prevented Oudinot from crossing the Seine,
and obliged Marmont to retreat, even after his junction
with Macdonald, he pushed forward in such a manner as to
render the allies masters of the whole line of the Marne
for above KO miles. Bonaparte now found himself under
the necessity of again turning his principal attcrition to
Blucher; for it is observable, that whenever the French
armies in this campaign were commanded by any of his
marshals, they were unsuccessful. Bonaparte alone seem-
ed to be able to procure them the chance of success. It
was therefore absolutely necessary, that he should march
w'ith the utmost rapidity alternately from the grand army
of the allies to Blucher, and from Blucher to the grand ar-
my. At this tiine, his object was to prevent the junction
of this general with Winzingerode ; but being foiled in his
project he could not retreat without a battle. Between the
4th and the 9th of March, various skirmishes took place
betw-een his troops and those of Blucher ; on the latter day,
the Prussian general determined to give battle at Laon ; he
was, however, anticipated by Bonaparte, who, taking ad-
vantage of a thick mist, attacked his right and centre, and
obliged him to fall back to the very walls of Laon. As
soon, however, as the mist disappeared, Blucher's army re-
gained the ground which it had lost; and a severe contest
ensued on their right and centre. The most important
part of the engagement, however, took place on the left
of Blucher's army, which the French attacked under a
heavy cainionade. But Blucher immediately reinforcing
his left with two divisions, and ordering his whole army to
advance, the French were not only repulsed, but actually
borne down, and thrown into very great confusion, retreat-
ing towards Rheims. In this engagement Bonaparte lost
upwards of 70 pieces of cannon; and the number of pri-
soners was immense.

Tl;e negociations at Chatillon were g.till going on, the
allies, notwithstanding their successes,"' adhcriog to their
former proposal to treat with Bonaparte, as the Emperor
of France. When heV'Ss'tfriSvitcessful, he directed Can-,
lincourt to listen to their terms, but as soon as ever he
gained the most trifling advantage, he disjilayed iiis cha-
racteristic haughtiness, and actually beiiaved as if the allies
were in his power. He seems, even at this time, to have
calculated on the lukewarmness of Austria ; and it is not
unlikely tliat the negociations were kept open longer than
they would otherwise have been, and better terms were of-
fered to him, in consequence of the connection between
him and the Emperor of Austria. He might be strength-
ened, too, in this belief, from the circumstance that the
Austrian army hitherto had done very little for the com-
mon cause, Blucher not having been supported, as he
might, and ought to have been, by Prince Schwartzenberg.

At length, however, even the Emperor of Austria was
convinced that no peace could be made with Bonaparte ;
accordingly, on the 18th of March, the fiiial and complete
rupture of the negociation took place. Immediately after
this event, Bonaparte directed all his efiorts in a most des-
perate manner against Blucher : for two days he poured
his battalions against the immoveable army of that general ;
but finding that he could make no impression, he bent his
efforts southwards against the grand army of the allies.
On the 21st, the two armies were near, and opposite each
other, ready for battle ; but Bonaparte, perceiving that he
had not the smallest chance of success, moved off his co-
lumns on the road to Vitrey. At first he proceeded in a
northern direction, but afterwards turned to the east on St
Dizier, and thus found himself on the 24th of March exact-
ly where he was on the 25th of January, when he opened
the campaign.

374

FRANCE.

Let us now titrn our attention to the movements and ope-
rations of Loi'd \VeUington. Though his army Mas in the
south of France, yet from the vicinity of its situation to tlic
foot of the Pyrenees, the weather was so very unfavourable,
that he couki not advance tilt the 23d of February. His
first movement was across the Adour and two other rivers:
These were successful ; and by the 27th of February, the
Whole army had taken up a position within four miles of
the French forces under Soult, which were posted in front
of the town of Orthes. Although the position of the French
general was very strong, his centre being thrown back, and
both his flanks advanced on very commanding heights,
Lord Wellington resolved to attack him. liis plan was,
that Marshal Beresford should turn the right of Soult's ar-
my, while the third and si.\th divisions attacked his left and
centre; but the fourth division, to which the attack on the
right was entrusted, meeting with great opposition, and
being unable to possess itself of the heights on which the
enemy was placed, Lord Wellington changed his plan, and
turned the third and sixth divisions against the right of the
French ; and thus forced him to abandon the heights, lest
he should be completely surrounded. Wc have been thus
more than usually particular in describing the manoeuvres
of the British during the battle of Orthes, as they afford a
striking proof of the characteristic promptitude and deci-
sion of Lord Wellington's mind. While these operatiojis
■were going on in this part, Soult found his centre attacked
and his left tlireacened, by the British division of Sir Row-
land Hill having carried a position on which it appuyed :
Here, however, the French having a numerous artillery,
made a vigorous and formidable resistance, hut the two
points of the base line of his position, (for it was in the form
of a triangle,) being hard pressed by ilank-attacks, and the
centre at the same time yielding to the British, he gave or-
ders for a retreat. At first his troops retreated without
confusion ; but soon disorder spread among them, and they
dispersed and made the best of their way, in the same man-
ner as they had done in the battle of Vittoria. In the night
they retired across the Adour, the British being so much
exhausted that they could not pursue them to any conside-
rable distance that nip^ht. On the 24-th, however, they con-
tinued the pursuit to St Sevre, where General Beresford,
having crossed the Adour, advanced to the chief tov/n in
the department of the Landes. At first So\ilt retreated in
the direction of Bourdeaux, but being defeated by Sir Row-
land in an attempt to defend his magazines at Aire on the
Adour, he changed his rotite, and retreated in the direc-
tion of Toulouse. The main British army followed him,
while Sir John Hope began the siege of Bayonne. Such
was the battle of Orthes, — certainly one of the most gene-
ral and hard fought in which Lord Wellington had been
engaged since the commencement of the Peninsular war ;
and it may be added, that not only in the positions which
Soult fixed on, but in his conduct during the engagement,
he fully made out his claim to talents and preseverance as
a military man.

The people of the south of France, notwithstanding all
the efforts to represent the English as everi worse than the
Cossacks, received Lord Wellington and his army as friends;
treating them with the utmost confidence and kindness, and
evidently shewing that they dreaded more from their own
soldiers than from them. But though they openly express-
ed their wish to receive back the Bourbons, Lord Wel-
lington could not proclaim or support their cause, as the
negociations for peace with Bonaparte were still going on.
Assoon, however, as the city of Bourdeaux, which had suf-
fered dreadfully from the revolution, and especially from
the measures of Bonaparte against commerce, and in which
there were many merchants descended from British fami-

lies, learned that Lord Wellington had entered France, that
Soult was entirely defeated, and that his ictreat was towards
Towlouse, it determined to declare for the Bourbons. A
proclamation to this effect was issued by the mayor; de-
puties were sent to Louis XVIII. and the British were im-
plored to enter the town, and protect it against the foices
of Bonaparte. Lord Wellington accordingly gave direc-
tions for p«rt of his army to march thither ; and the Duke
of Angouleme, v/ho had been for some time with liirn,
th<High not acknowledged or received puu;icly, hastened
to shew himself to the citizens of Bourdeaux. The recep-
tion both of the British and of the Duke was most flatter-
ing, not only in the town, but in thp country through which
they passed.

In order to bring the affairs of this part of France to a
conclusion, we shall proceed with our narrative of them,
premising, that about this time Bonaparte had been forced
to abandon the government of France, and Louis XVIII.
hat] been acknowledged king. Intelligence of these events
had been immediately transmitted to Lord Wellington and
Soult, but it unfortunately did not arrive in sufficient time
to prevent another battle. Soult had t^ken up a strong
position near Toulouse; on the 8th of April, part of Lord
Wellington's army moved across the Garonne; between
this river and the canal of Languedoc were the fortified
heights, that formed the chief strength of the French posi-
tion : his Lordship resolved at once to storm these in front,
and to turn the right of the enemy, while a tete du fiont,
which they formed on the canal to protect their left, should
be threatened. The 9th of April was spent in prepaiing
for these attacks; and on the 10th they were carried into
execution. They were in all points so well planned, and so
admirably executed, that at the close of the day the French
Avere completely hemmed in, the allies having established
themselves on three sides of Toulouse, and the road to
Carcassone being the only one left open. In the night of
the 1 1th, Soult drew off his troops by this road ; and Lord
Wellington entered Toulouse in triumph the following
morning. The close of the campaign in the south of
France was marked by one unfortunate event : Before Ba-
yonne, which Sir John Hope invested, the French had a
fortified camp, from which they made a sortie at three
o'clock of the morning of the 13th of April. The piquets
of the British army were driven in, and Sir John Hope, in
his gallant attempts to support them, came unexpectedly
on part of the French : his horse, which was shot deadf fell
upon him; and in this situation he was made prisoner.

Although the allies in the north and east of France had
at different times, since the commencement of the cam-
paign, reached within a short distance of Paris, yet they had
always been obliged to fall back, in consequence partly of a
want of concert, and paitly of the wonderful rapidity of Bo-
naparte's movements, who, with a force decidedly inferior,
contrived to pass from one point to another, so quickly and
unexpectedly, as sometimes to defeat, and almost always
to retard the plans of the allies. As soon, however, as
Austria began to act in a more decided manner, he was
rendered sensible that his fate could not be much longer
protracted, unless he had recourse to some desperate ex-
pedient, and that expedient completely succeeded. On
the 23d of March, the army of Prince Schwartzenberg
directed its route to Vitrey, which was in possession of the
Prussians. Bonaparte also marched on the same place,
for the purpose of uniting with Ney and Macdonald, who
were advancing from St Dizier; but the Austrians hav-
ing reached the place before the French, he threw him-
self into their i ear, while he formed a communication w ith
the army of Blucher. Perhaps at the time Bonaparte
found himself obliged to adopt iJiis measure; perhaps

FRANCE.

375

it was the deliberate consequence of a conceited plan ; for,
wlioevci- has studied his campaigns must know that he
often obtained success, by doing those acts, which, by their
vciy boldness and rashness, so astonished and perplexed
his opponents, that from the effects which they produced
on them in this respect, their success in a great measure
originated. In this case, the object of Bonaparte, if his
measure was preconcerted, which most probably it was, was
to get into the rear of the allies; and threaten their com-
munication with Germany. It may be urged that his force
was not adequate to destroy the communication ; but it
must be recollected, that he could receive reinforcements
from the garrisons of the towns on the frontiers, provided
nothing occurred to prevent his reaching them. It is
not likely, however, that he would have abandoned Paris
to its fate by thus getting into the rear of the allies,
and leaving the road to the capital open to them, had he
not believed that the measures taken for its safety were per-
fectly adequate; for he must have known, tliat whoever
possessed Paris possessed France, so much influence does
the capital possess over the provinces. The defence of
this city had been entrusted to Marmont, under whose
command the national guards, and such other troops as
could be spared for this object, were placed. The allies,
disregarding the position of Bonaparte in their rear, re-
solved to strike a grand and decisive blow, by advancing in
a body to Paris. There can be no doubt, that in it they
had a strong party ; even some of Bonaparte's favourites
and former advisers, perceiving that their lives and all they
had gained in his service were put in extreme jeopardy,
by his rashness, resolved to abandon him and court the fa-
vour of the allies. The mass of the population too, were
at least indifferent about him ; they did not, therefore, re-
gard the approach or probable entry of the allies as any
evil or disgrace, and consequently resolved not to oppose
it, especially as their opposition would have been fruitless.
The army of the allies which advanced against the capital
of France, amounted to upwards of 200,000 men. On the
night of the 24lh, three divisions of the French arrived at
Vitrey, in the hope of joining Bonaparte there ; but they
were immediately attacked by the allies, and driven back.
This is only one proof among many others, of the imper-
fect intelligence which the French possessed, even in their
own country ; and indicated, perhaps, as much as any other
circumstance, tlie decline, not only of the authority, but of
the popularity of Bonaparte. In consequence of similar want
of intelligence, both respecting the situation of Bonaparte,
and the advance of the allies, a convoy, consisting of 5000
men, who were protecting a large quantity of provisions
■and other necessaiies of the utmost importance to Bona-
parte, were met by the allies, and after a gallant resistance,
compelled to surrender.

By this time Bonaparte had reached St Dizier,but there
learning that the allies, unintimidated by his throwing him-
self into their rear, were still pushing on for Paris, and be-
ing moreover ill provided with many necessaries for his
army, he resolved to hasten back to the capital as quickly
as possible. In this march he was closely followed and
constantly harassed by Winzingerode, with 10,000 horse
and 40 pieces of cannon. On the 28th and 29tii of March,
the allies crossed the Marne near Meaux. On the night of
the 29lh, Mortier entered Paris, where he found about
8000 regulars, and 30,000 national guards, under the no-
minal command of Joseph Bonaparte. This force took up
a strong position near the city, v.dtli their right on Belle-
ville, and their left on Neuiily. As soon as the allies ap-
proached Paris, a flag of truce, with a proclamation, stat-
ing that the object of their maich was to protect and be-
nefit, not to injure France, and that they hoped to moot

with the good wishes and concurrence of every Frenclmian
in tlieir endeavours to destroy a government, which had
occasioned so many evils, not only to the rest of Europe,
but to France itself; they did not come to revenge their
own wrongs on I'renchmcn, nor to imitate the conduct of
Bonaparte in every country which he liad invaded ; they
hoped, therefore, that the people of Paris would follow the
example of the citizens of Bourdeaux and Lyons, both of
which had deserted the cause of a man who had been the
curse of France. The flag of truce, however, was re-
fused admittance, and it was therefore resolved to attack
the enemy on the heights above Paris. In the centre of the
position of the French army on these heights, there were
several redoubts, and on the whole line, 150 pieces of cau-
non. It was planned that the grand army should attack
the heights at Belleville, while the Silesian army directed
its attack against Montmartre. Marshal Blucher made his
own dispositions for the attack.

After an obstinate resistance, the heights of Belleville
were carried ; and 43 pieces of cannon and a great number
of prisoners were taken. Nearly at the same time, Mar-
shal Blucher commenced an attack on Montmartre, from
which the French were also driven with t))e loss of 20
pieces of cannon. Marshal Marmont, seeing no chance
of saving the capital, now sent out a flag of truce, propos-
ing an armistice for two hours, and intimating a desire to
receive the propositions of the allies, at the same time
agreeing to abandon all the positions wliich he retained
without the barriers. To this proposal Prince Schwartz-
enberg agreed ; and the next day the allies entered Paris,
amidst the acclamations of the populace, by whom thev
were received as protectors and liberators.

Before these events took place, Bonaparte, who had ar-
rived at Fontainbleau, sent Canlincourt to the Emperor of
Russia ; but the Emperor absolutely declined receivings
a message from him. On the 2d of April, the French Se-
nate, which -had been assembled on the day before, at the
desire of the Emperor Alexander, by Talleyrand, in his
character of Vice Grand Elector, passed a decree depos-
ing Bonaparte, and absolving all persons from their oath of
allegiance to him as their sovereign. The command of the
national guard was entrusted to a French general; but Ge-
neral Sacken was appointed to the military command of
the city. A provisional government was established, con-
sisting of Talleyrand, INlor.tesquieu, Jaucourt, Bournon-
ville, and the Duke of Dalberg. As soon as this provi-
sional government was formed, they published an addre.ss
to the army, telling them that they were no longer the sol-
diers of Napoleon.

The Emperor Alexander, on his entry into Paris, had
issued a proclamation in the name of himself and his allies,
promising that the conditions of peace, which they were
Avilling to grant to France, should be now mucii more fa-
vourable than they would have been if the people of Paris
had adhered to Bonaparte ; and that the limits of France,
as it existed previously to the Revolution, should be scru-
pulously preserved. This proclamation concluded with
calling upon the provisional government to prepare a con-
stitution, which would suit the French people. A consti-
tution was soon framed, and immediately presented to the
Senate ; it was read twice, and a commission appointed to
examine it. On the evening of the 5th of April, the com-
mission made its report, and the constitution was adopted
u)ianimously. By it, Louis was to be chosen sovereign,
according to a ciiarter, of which the following are the most
important articles : The French call to the throne Louis,
the brother of the last king. The executive power belongs
to the king. There are to be 150 senators at least, and not
more than 200, named by the king ; their dignity hercdita-

376

FRANCE.

ry, and revenues allotted to them. Tiic princes of the
blood and of tlie royal family are members of the senate.
The legislative body remains as l)ef<jre ; it shall not sit for
more than five years : the king may convoke, adjourn, and
dissolve it ; but in this last case, he must call another le-
gislative body in three months at the latest. Tlic king,
ihc senate, and the legislative body, concur in the makinij
of the laws ; but those relating; to contributions can be
proposed only in the leKisUilivc body. The sanction
of the king is necessary for the completion of a law.
The legislative body has the right of discussion: their sit-
tings are open. No member of the senate or legislative
body can be arrested, without a previous authority from the
body to which he belongs. The ministers may be mem-
bers cither of the senate or legislative body. Equality of
proportion in the taxes is a m.atter of right ; no tax can be
imposed or received, unless it has been previously consent-
ed to by the legislative body and the senate. The law shall
fix the amount and the recruiting of the army. The in-
dependence of the judges is guaranteed; they are to be
for life, and irremoveable. The; institution of juries is
preserved. The king has the right of pardon. The per-
son of the king is sacred and inviolable ; but all his acts
inust be signed by a minister, who is responsible for them.
The freedom of worship and conscience guaranteed. The
liberty of the press is entire, with the exception of the le-
gal repression of ofl'ences resulting from the abuse of that
liberty. The public debt is guaranteed ; the sales of the
national domains are irrecoverably maintained. No French-
man, can be prosecuted for opinions or votes he may have
given. The right of individuals to petition every consti-
tuted authority is recognised. The present constitution
shall be submitted to the acceptance of the French people.
Louis Stanislaus Xavier shall be proclaimed king of the
French, as soon as he shall have signed and sworn by an
act, stating, " I accept the constitution. I swear to observe
it, and cause it to be oliserved." This oath shall be re-
peated, when he shall receive the oath of the fidelity of the
French nation.

At this time Louis was so infirm in his health that he
vas not able to leave England immediately ; but his bro-
ther was appointed Lieutenant-General of France, and re-
paired to Paris, where he was received with great enthusi-
asm. He declared his readiness to adhere to the constitu-
tion in the name of his brother, although he acknowledged
he was not authorised to thit effect. As soon as Louis was
sufficiently strong, he left England, and on the 3d of May
niade his solemn entry into Paris. " Wlicn he came to the
palace of his fathers, a vast crowd collected in the garden,
appeared, by their lively accIamatimiSjto solicit the presence
of his majesty. The King presented himself in compli-
ance with the wishes of his people. The Duchess D'An-
goulemewas at his right hand, and the Duke de Berri at
his left. Shortly afterwards, the daughter of Louis XV L
made way for RIonsieur. The King instantly embraced
Jiis brother, and the acclamations v^ere redoulilcd. The
enthusiasm was at its height, when the King, raising his
arms towards the crowd, seemed to say, " You are my
children, I s])eak to you from my heart, I embrace you
thus." The people understood him, by crying out, " Long
live the King, long live our father."

On the 30th of iNIay, the definitive treaty of peace was
signed at Paris, of which the following are the principal
articles: The limits, as they existed January 1st 1792, are
restored to France. Holland was to receive an accession
of territory; but this, as well as the regulation of Germa-
ny and Italy, was to be the subject of the deliberations of
a Congress to be held at Vienna. All the colonies, fish-
<erjes, foctories, &c.^yhich,she possessed in 1792, except

St Lucie, Tobago, and the Isle of France, are restored.
She is to erect no fortresses in the East Indies. Two-
thirds of the shijiping in the harbours of Antwerp and
Flushing are to be given up to her. The last article pro-
vides lor a Congress to be held at Vienna by the Plenipo-
lentiai'ics ol all the powers of Europe, to regulate the ar-
rangements requisite to carry this treaty into full effect.

Before Marshal Marmont agreed to give up Paris, he
stipulated with the allies for the personal safety of Bona-
parte, and that a provision should be made for his future
support. On the night of the 4th of April, a proposal was
brought to the allies from Bonaparte, that he would abdi-
cate in favour of his son ; but as he was already deposed
by the provisional government, no attention was paid to it.
He then renounced the sovereignty in the following terms :
" The allied powers having proclaimed that the emperor
Napoleon is the only obstacle to the re-cstablishmcnt of
the peace of Europe, the Emperor Napoleon, faithful to
his oath, declares, that he renounces for himself and his
heirs, the thrones of France and Italy ; and tiiat there is
DO personal sacrifice, even that of life, which he is not rea-
dy to make to the interest of France." Afterwards a for-
mal treaty was concluded at Fontainbleau between him and
the allied powers, by which the titles of Bonaparte and of
all his family are guaranteed to them during their lives ;—
the island of Elba is appointed his residence, of which he
is to liold the full sovereignty, with an annual revenue of
two millions of francs, in rent charge in the great book of
France. By the fourth article, the duchies of Parma, Pla-
ceiuia, and Guastella, were granted in full sovereignly to
the Empress, to pass to her son and his descendants in a
right line. By the sixth article, a rent charge of 2,500,000
francs was decreed to the branches of Bonaparte's family ;
and by the seventeenth article, he was allowed to take with
him to the isle of Elba 400 men, and to retain them there
as his guard. To all of this treaty the British court refus-
ed its sanction, except so far as regarded the arrangements
for securing the Italian duchies to Maria Louisa, and the
isle of Elba to Bonaparte. To this island he was conveyed
with as little delay as possible. During his journey, espe-
cially in the south of France, he was frequently in danger
of his life, from the violent hatred which the mob express-
ed against him.

Before we proceed to the narrative of events, that render
even the extraordinary transactions which the Revolution
had hitherto given rise to comparatively tame and common
place, we shall offer some remarks, Fiist, on the causes
which produced the liberation of the continent of Europe
from the dominion of the French, and also the overthrow
of Bonaparte ; and. Secondly, on the condition and charac-
ter of the French people at the time when Louis XVIII.
ascended the throne.

In the spring of 1S12, nearly the whole of the continent
of Europe was subservient to the will, and conducive to
the interests of Bonaparte. In the Peninsula, indeed, he
liad not been equally successful ; but, at this period, it
seemed as if it were only necessary for him to pour into it
all his force, in order to reduce it to reluctant and restless
submission, and to com.pel the English to retire to thcii-
lines in the vicinity of Lisbon. From the Emperor of Aus-
tria, after the humiliation to which he had submitted in the
marriage of his daughter to Bon?parte, though no cordial
and zealous co-operulion coiild be hoped, no formidable or
dangerous enmitv was to be feared. The king of Pi ussia
was still more humbled in spirit, and reduced in power.
The Emperor of Russia, by the treaty of Tilsit, had deliv-
ered himself up, contrary to the interests of his kingdom,
to the anticommercial schemes of Bonaparte; and though,
at this period; he was beginning to struggle to regain his

FRANCE.

377

liberty, yet tlic proljublc conimcucemcnt tif a new war,
seemed to open up only new prospects of triumph and suc-
cess to his opponent. Fov never at any former period was
tlic army of Bonaparte so numero\is, or so well appointed
in every respect. As soon as he had determined to com-
mence hostilities against Russia, nearly half a million of
men were put in motion : Frenchmen, Dutch, Germans,
Italians, Poles, and even Spaniards, marched under his ban-
ner : Of these dissimilar materials he M'as the animating
spirit ; and from the success which had hitherto attended
his arms, there was great reason to dread that the empire
of Russia would henceforth be obliged to contribute the re-
luctant service of her sons to the conqueror.

In the spring of 1814, in the short space of two years,
Bonaparte was compelled to abdicate the throne of France,
and to confine himself to a paltry island in the JNIediterra-
nean : his armies, beaten, dispersed, captive, or destroyed,
were no longer capable of supporting or protecting him ;
and France, which for upwards of 20 years had poured
her plunderers over the continent of Europe, became the
seat of a war, in which she was degraded^, conquered, — her
capital at the mercy of the conquerors, and indebted for
her independence, and her ancient and legitimate territory,
entirely to the moderation of thoSfe conquerors.

It is not possible to imagine any topic, calculated more
deeply to interest the mind, than the contiast which these
events aflbrd : Were the intervening period not specified,
■we should be apt to conclude, that such an essential and
wonderful change of affairs, could not have been wrought
out, but after the lapse of many years. The causes which
produced this unparalleled change, in such a very short
period of time, are naturally sought for ; and, fortunately
for the gratification of curiosity, as well as for the more
important purposes of history, considered as philosophy
teaching by example, these causes are not difficult to be ex-
plained.

Anobservation of the Marquis of Wellesley, in the House
of Lords, respecting the character of Bonaparte, will open
up to us the most important of these causes. Bonaparte
was a man, he observed, who would create unto himself
great reverses. In him existed not merely that restless
and insatiable ambition, wiiich he possessed in common
with most conquerors; but an obstinacy so blind and over-
powering, as to convert even his great military talents in-
to the causes of his ruin. It is scarcely possible to con-
ceive any chain of events, spread even over a period of ma-
ny years, which could have blasted the power of the con-
queror of Europe so utterly and hopelessly, as his own
fool-hardiness and obstinacy did in the short space of a few
months, during his campaign of Russia. When we say
utterly and hopelessly, we mean in reference to his charac-
ter ; for, could experience have taught him wisdom and
moderation, not even his losses in Russia could have driven
him from the throne of France. But in the campaign of
1813, he again created unto himself great reverses ; san-
guine, ambitious, and domineeiing, when jjartial and tem-
porary success attended his arms; faithless and iniprin-
cipled during the negociations into which the allies entered
with him, and obstinate when he met with defeat. By ad-
vancing to Moscow at tJie commencement of a Russian
winter, and continuing in that city so long, he destroy-
ed nearly the whole of his army. By obstinately clinging
to Dresden, till ti>e allies had actually cut him oft' from
France, he brought on the battle of Leijisic, which com-
pleted the destruction of a second army. The same scenes
were repeated during the short campaign of 1814, when
liis means weie tewer, his opponents more numerous, and
Jiis ruin nearer at hand : still he might have been saved, —
the allies would have left him on the throne of France : to

Vol. IX. Paiit. I.

their terms he listened when uniuccessful ; but no sooner
had he gained even a doubtful anct hard bought victory,
but he most foolishly and fatally for himself, but most for-
tunately for Europe, allowed his ambitious faithlessness to
become so apparent, that the allies were convinced that
his dethronement was absolutely necessary to the repose
and independence of Europe.

But though Bonaparte was the principal cavtse of his
own dastruction, yet there were other causes co-operating,
which Would indeed have been inelVectual of themselves,
but which, aided by the man against whom they were di-
rected, became formidable and successful.

At the commencement of the French Revolution, the
sovereigns of Europe, for a short time, united against it ;
but narrow and blind self-interest, mutual jealousy and ap-
prehension, and an imperfect knowledge of the evils with
which it was fraught, dissolved the confederacy. After-
wards they were stimulated or goaded by England to an
unwilling and unequal contest. At length fatal and dearly
bought experience convinced them, tiiat the only means of
preserving even the name of independence, and the rem-
nant of power that France had left them, was by cordially
and zealously uniting against her. This union, however,
could not have been effected during the plenitude of Bo-
naparte's power ; I)ut after that power was reduced by the
obstinacy of the possessor, their union became essentially
conducive to the restoration of European independence.

At the commencement of the French Revolution, the
sovereigns of Europe regarded their subjects with a sus-
picious and apprehensive eye, as much more likely to as-
sist than to repel the French ; and instead of endeavouring
to bring them over to form a common cause with them-
selves, still farther irritated and alienated them by their
conduct. Besides, the people were too eager to receive
the soldiers of a nation, which had solemnly declared, that
they made war only on the palace, but brought peace and
liberty to the cottage. A very short experience convinced
the sovereigns, that their surest defence against Franco
was in the confidence and loyalty of their people ; while
the people fatally experienced, that, by being liberated
from the dominion of their native princes, and placed un-
der the government of France, they only exchanged one ty-
ranny for another, — a tyranny to which they had been long
accustomed, and which was relieved by many acts of pro-
tection and kindness, for one which was novel, — which
broke in upon those comforts that the former tyranny had
left them, and which, as being inflicted by stangers, and
with all the insolence and profligacy to which unparalleled
success had given rise, was infinitely more oppressive and
intolerable. Thus suffering under a common evil, the
sovereigns and people of Europe were made sensible, that
their interests were more closely connected than they had
previously imagined, and were disposed and prepared to
co-operate in the recovery of their liberty and indepen-
dence. An opportunity only was wanthig for the spirit of
hatred and vengeance against France to burst forth into ac-
tion ; and this opportunity was afforded by the man himself,
against whom it was chiefly to be directed.

The events of the peninsular war may justly be regarded
as forming anotlier subordinate cause of the destruction of
Bonaparte. Tliis war most t'.ecidedly jiroved that the
French soldiers were not invincible ; that even when op-
posed by an inferior force, they might be conquered ;
while the genius and the successes of Wellington pro-
ckiinicd to Europe, that the most celebrated ot the French
Marshals had at length met with their master ir; all the art
of war. Tims, even before the Russian campuign, the
c!iarm of French invincibility was broken. But liie war
in tha Peninsula gave another, cheering lesson to the con-

378

FRANCE.

tinent of Europe ; for it taught it what could be efTected
by a people resolved not to submit lu their invaders, though
that people struggled under the disadvantages of a wretch-
ed government, and received iitile assistance even from
their own regular army.

Such appear to have been the principal causes which
led to llie liberation of Europe.

The condition and character of the P'rcnch nation, at the
period when Louis XVIII. ascended the throne, is an ob-
ject of investigation, not less interesting or important than
that which we have just been examining.

It was supposed by many, that the reverses of Bonaparte
in Russia, and the dreadful misery which, by his ambition
and obstinacy during that campaign, ne had inflicted on his
surviving soldiers, would have completely rooted out their
confidence and attachment to him. So far, however, was
this from being the case, that even the additional proofs of
his fitUing fame and fortune, and the additional experience
of misery, nearly equal to that of the Russian campaign,
supplied by the campaigns of IS 13 and 1814, neither de-
prived him of the attachment and confidence of his sol-
diers, nor materially weakened the military spirit of France.
Indeed, at the period when Louis ascended the throne, the
military might justly be regarded as the most important
and cfiicient part of the population. They had been so long
accustomed to regard themselves as superior to their coun-
trymen, and possessed such a large portion of the esprit de
cor/is, and such facilities of acting in concert, that though
forming but a small portion of the population of France,
no sovereign could long be safe, who was decidedly unpo-
pular with them. And it was utterly impossible that they
could regard Louis with any other feelings but those of
mingled contempt and hatred: — of contempt, because his
constitutional indolence, increased by tiie inactivity of age
and infirmity, and by the habits of a literary life, rendered
him disinclined and unfit for a military life ; — of hatred, be-
cause, had he been inclined and fit for such a life, the very
charter by which he held his throne from the allies, and the
mass of the French people, absolutely forbade him to fol-
low the career of that man, under whom they had been
bred. In short, the military were attached to a life of what
they called glory, that is, to a life of conquest and plunder,
— their thoughts, feelings, and habits, were all moulded in
conformity to such a life. But the allies had invaded France,
had dethroned Bonaparte, and had seated Louis in his
stead, for the express purpose of putting an end to the mi-
litary career of France. How then could the Marshals, the
officers, or the soldiers of Bonaparte be friendly to the
reign of Louis ?

The mass of the French nation were weary of the reign
of Bonaparte, and exhausted by the measures of that reign:
They were anxious for peace and repose. Hence they
looked forward to the government of Louis with satisfac-
tion and pleasure ; not from any hereditary attachment to
the family of the Bourbons, nor from any remembrance of
what France had been under them prior to the Revolution.
Louis was preferred by them to Bonaparte, because under
tlie former they anticipated the annihilation of the conscrip-
tion, the restoration of peace, and the enjoyment of some
l)orlion of civil and political liberty. But it is impossible
that they could have freed their minds from all apprehen-
sion, that, along with the restoration of the Bourbons, pro-
perty might be rendered insecure ; feudal privileges and
tythes might be revived; and those abuses re-established
which, in some measure, had driven that family from the
throne. By the mass of the French nation, therefore, by
all the landed proprietors, by the farmers, and by the pea-
santry, all the measures of Louis's govcrnmeht would be
^valchcd with suspicion and anxiety.

The manufacturing and commercial classes viewed the
restored dynasty with less mixed feelings of approbation,
and with confidence unweakened by doubt or suspicion ; for
the Revolution had brought to them no peculiar privileges,
had freed them from no jtarticular grievances; on the con-
trary, it iiad Ijccn a constant source of calamity. They
therefore haihd the accession of Louis as the commence-
ment of an era most favoiu-ablc to their interests ; and per-
haps, less than any other class of the French nation, felt dis-
graced by the mode in which he had been seated on the
throne of his ancestors.

Although the present generation in France has in a great
measure grown up during the Revolution, yet there are,
in some of the provinces, what may be deemed hereditary
adherents of the House of Bourbon; who wished their re-
storation, not merely from a sense of the evils which the
Revolution had entailed on their country, but because they
regarded them as having a right to the throne, of such a
nature as could not be set aside by any human authority.
This class hailed the return of Louis with blind though
sincere joy ; anticipating the annihilation of all revolution-
ary principles and measures ; the absolute triumph of the
principles of pure monarchy ; the enjoyment of the King's
confidence, and an ample reward for their long suffering
loyalty. With sentiments and hopes similar lo these, ma-
ny of the emigrants must have returned to France; fully
persuaded that, as the allies had conquered that country
and expelled Bonaparte, there could be no obstacle to the
completion of their hopes.

Such is a brief sketch of the condition and character of
the different classes of the French people at the period
when Louis ascended the throne; and this sketch is suffi-
cient to shew the nature, the extent, and the imminence of
the dangers and difficulties with which he was encompased.
The manner, too, in which he came to the throne, by the
assistance of the enemies of France, of those enemies over
most of whom she had formerly triumphed, but who now
beheld her prostrate at their feet, could not fail to create
something like aversion to Louis, even in the breasts of
those who, from loyalty, from interest, or from purer mo-
tives, rejoiced at his accession, as consummating the over-
throw of Bonaparte ; for the love of national glory is so
strong in the breast of a Frenchman, as not unfrequently to
overcome every other principle, sentiment, and feeling.

Louis was by no means equal to the embarrassing situa-
tion in which he was placed. In his character there was
no decision, promptitude, or energy; and yet all these
qualities were imperiously called for. With the military
he never could be popular, and even if he could, popularity
with them must have rendered him obnoxious to the allies
and the mass of the French nation; yet almost his first
measure was to court the marshals and generals of Bona-
parte. By a fatal inconsistency, while he courted their
support, he lent himself to the intrigues of the emigrants,
or at least did not, with sufficient promptitude, put down
their extravagant pretensions to their former privileges.
Thus he doubly alienated the people at large, on whom
alone he ought to have depended for the support of his
tottering throne. His policy should have been, gradually
to have withdrawn the military foundation of the throne,
and to have substituted the more legitimate, as well as the
more safe, foundation of his subjects' confidence and at-
tachment. Such a plan required most consummate pru-
dence and talents, as well as great energy and decision of
character, which unfortunately for Louis he did not pos-
sess.

Soon after his entry into Paris, he formed his ministry.
Ax the head of it was IM. D'Ambray as chancellor ; Tal-
leyrand was appointed minister for foreign affairs ; the .\b-

FRANCE.

379

be de Montesquieu minister of the interior; and M. Ma-
louct minister of linance. A council of war was also ap-
pointed, consisting of 14 members, most of them the prin-
cipal generals of Bonaparte ; Ncy, Augereau, and Mac-
donald being at the hi ad of the list. Shortly afterwards
there appeared an official list of 150 noblemen, named by
the King, as members of the chamber of peers for life.
This list comprehended nearly all the old Dukes, and
other chief nobility of the lime prior to the Revolution,
with some of the new titles ; among the latter wei^ Tal-
leyrand, Clarke, Lcbrun, Ijerthicr, Macdonakl, Ney, Sa-
chet, Moncey, Marmont, Augereau, and Oudinot. On
the 4th of June the parliament was opened by Louis, in a
speech too plainly shewing the necessity of paying court
to the national vice of the love of glory ; for he was par-
ticularly carefully to impress on the parliament, and
through them on the nation, that the glory of the French
armies had received no blemish ; that the monuments of
their valoui' remained ; and that the c/icfs d'auvre of the
arts would belong to them henceforward, by rights more
stable and more respected than those of victory. What
may be called the form of the constitution, was not pro-
mulgated till the middle of August ; it consisted of a body
of resolutions, under various titles, according to which the
intercourse between the King and the two legislative
chambers was to be carried on. The form of the con-
stitution, as well as the spirit of it, bore a considerable
x-esemblance to that of Great Britain ; but in some points
it differed from it, for the King of France was invested
•with the privilege not only of proroguing but of adjourn-
ing both the chambers. By these regulations, laws might
originate in two ways — either by the King sending pro-
posals respecting them to the two chambers, which pro-
posals might be adopted or rejected ; or the chambers
themselves, separately or jointly, might pray the King to
propose a law.

The eighth article of the constitutional charter, by which
Louis possessed his throne, had stipulated for the liberty
of the press. On the 6th of July, two of his ministers
were introduced into the chamber of deputies, to jn'esent
a law on this subject. The project of the law was divided
into two parts, the first respected the publication of works,
the second the superinlendance of the press. According
to the first, every work of above 30 sheets might be pub-
lished freely, without previous examination ; but the liberty
which was apparently given on this part of the project, was
in a great measure withdrawn, by the proposal that the
director-general of the press might order all writings un-
der 30 shfcxJts to be communicated to him before being
printed. The appointment of censors was to be vested in
the King. No journals or periodical writings were to ap-
pear without the King's authority. According to the
second part of the proposed law, no person could be a
printer or bookseller, without the King's licence, wliich
might be withdrawn ; and all printing establishments not
licensed might be destroyed. The projet concluded with
a proposal tiiat the law should be revised in three years.

This projet was referred to a committee, who decided
by a mere majority of votes, that previous censorship ought
not to serve as the basis of the law. When the report of
the committee was brought up, several bold and eloquent
speeches were made in favour of the liberty of the press,
which seemed to prove that more practicable ideas of the
nature and object of government were beginning to pre-
vail in France ; but the painful recollection that the same
men who spoke thus freely and warmly on this important
topic, gave applause, apparently as zealous and sincere, to
the measuies of Bonaparte, forces the mind to withhold
from them the rarer and more useful tribute of disinterest-

ed patriotism. In tUe sitting of the 11th of August, the
Abbe Montesquieu addressed the chamber of deputies in
defence of the plan of the law, which had been submitted
to them, conceding, however, on the part of the King, cer-
tain amendments, to the ell'cct that no censure should ap-
ply to a work exceeding 20 sheets, and tliat the law should
cease to operate at the end of scsMtjn 1810. After an ani-
mated debate, the law, as amended by the concession on
the part of the crown, was adopted by the chamber, there
being 137 votes for it, and 80 against it.

The only other topic of consideralilc interest and impor-
tance, which came under the discussion of the chambers,
related to the restoration of the unsold estates of the emi-
grants. A law to that effect passed the chamber of dc
puties by a large majority ; it was then carried up to the
chamber of peers, where it passed by a majority of 100
votes out of 103 present. On this occasion Marshal Mac-
donakl pronounced a discourse of great efTect, at the close
of which he announced his intention of proposing a projet
of a law, the object of which should be to grant life an-
nuities to those of the emigrants, the sale of whose estates
had left them unprovided for. The nature of the propos-
ed law was most maliciously misrepresented in one of the
Paris journals. According to the statement in it. Marshal
Macdonald asserted that the military of all ranks were
willing to contribute a portion of their pay to create a fund
for the support of the emigrants. The effect, and pro-
bably the purpose of this misrepresentation, was to in-
crease the ill-will of the soldiery, already sullen and irri-
tated, not only towards the emigrants, but also towards the
King and the government. The ofl'ending journal was im-
mediately suppressed ; but such was either the timidity or
the indecision of the government, that in a short time it was
again permitted to be published.

On the 10th of December, Marshal Macdonald present-
ed to the chamber of peers a sketch of his system of in-
demnity for the emigrants : he estimated at 300 millions
the amount of confiscations or sales made, and of course
the amount of indemnities to be provided ; and he propos-
ed to replace the value of the confiscated and sold estates
by an annuity of 2 J per cent.

Such were the two principal topics that came under dis-
cussion before the chambers during 1814 : they were not
only important in themselves, but they had a material in-
fluence on the stability and permanence of Louis' govern-
ment ; for the very limited liberty granted to the press
alarmed and alienated .the republican party, which were
now beginning to assume consistency and strength; and
the very agitating of the subject relative to the property
of the emigrants, created serious and general apprelien-
sion in the minds of the very numerous and widely spread
class who had purchased confiscated estates. Discontent
and dissatisfaction began to manifest themselves in dif-
ferent parts of the kingdom. Among the oppressions
from which Louis, or rather his brother, had promised to
liberate the French, wore the droits reunis, or indirect
taxes; but though the minister of finance, and afterwards
Talleyrand, oflicially reported the prospects of France,
with respect to the produce of the taxes, and manufac-
tures, and commerce, as very flattering, yet the King could
not redeem his pledge that the droits reunis should be
taken ofl'. In consequence of which, the collection of
them created such serious discontents, that his IMajesty
was obliged to issue an ordinance, which at once proved
tlie serious nature and the extent of the evil, and the ina-
bility or apprehension of the government, to crush it eflfec-
tually by vigorous measures.

But all these signs of approaching misfortune to Louis,
were ambiguous, or trifling, compared to those which
3 B 2

J80

lltANCE,

might have been galhercd iVom the eoncluct, tlie feelings,
and the power of the mililary. To ilicni the King had
delivered himself up, eveji more completely than he had
done when he first ascended the throne : Soull was min-
ister of war, and conseciuently had an opportunity of form-
ing any plans which his former attachments might sug-
gest. He had, indeed, taken tfie oaths of fidelity to Louis ;
but weak and credulous must that man have been, who
• ould put faith in the oath of a soldier of the revolutionary
■chool, one of the most fundamental and cherished maxims
jf which wan, that military glory was of such paramount
abligailon, as to justify any means by which it could be
acquired. The King, therefore, had cast himself, bound
band and foot, into the power of his enemies, while he had
Ticglected to make friends of the people.

In the mean time, Bonaparte, in the isle of Elba, was
nearly forgotten ; when, to the astonishment and dismay,
not only of the French King, but of all Europe, he sud-
denly landed near Cannes, in France, on the 1st of March.
The arrangement of the plan, in conformity to which he
was invited, or induced to land in France, is not accurately
known. The following circumstances, however, are eithor
well substantiated, or highly probable : — Almost imme-
diately after his departure from Fi'ance, his numerous par-
tizans, especially among the soldiery in the southern pro-
vinces of the kingdom, began to talk in mysterious terms
of the violet season, and to express a strong wish for its
arrival. To those who compared and considered these
terms, it was soon evident that Bonaparte was expected in
France at the return of the violet season ; but it was not
easy to ascertain whether this expectation was grounded on
any promise he had made, or plan which they knew was
forming, or whether it was vaguely taken up by his ad-
mirers. The expectation, however, grew stronger and
more general as the spring approached : there is good
reason to believe that the ministers of Louis were inform-
ed of it, and that it would probably be realized : but what
measures of precaution could be expected from men who
were either leagued with Bonaparte, or who were so
ignorant of the state of France, and of the character of the
sovereign of Elba, as to see no danger to their sovereign
from either ?

It is not so easy to trace the framers of the plan for
bringing back Bonaparte, or the arrangements that were
made for carrying that plan into execution. We know,
liowever, that Louis was disliked, both by the military and
iei)ublican party ; and it is highly probable that the restora-
tion of Bonaparte was planned and achieved by them in
conjunction. The former naturally wished for their Em-
peror, in the expectation that he would enable them to
nipe off the disgrace of defeat ; the latter wished for him
only as a sovereign, who would free them from Louis, and
whom they hoped, by the strength their party had acquir-
ed, they could afterwards bind down to the observance of
a free constitution.

Bonaparte had been attended to the isle of Elba by com-
missioners from the allied powers; but soon after his
arrival there, they all left him except Colonel Campbell,
the British commissioner, who seems to have remained,
however, not in any official capacity, or directly charged
with the custody of Bonaparte. During the temporary
absence of Colonc 1 Campbell, Bonaparte sailed from Porto
Ferrajo, on the 26lh of February, with about 1000 men,
very few of whom were Frenchmen, the rest being Poles,
Corsicans, Neapolitans, and Elbese. Generals Bertrand
and Drouet accompanied him. It was soon apparent, that
the soldiers in France, if they did not flock to his standard,
would not, however, oppose ids progress ; and that most
of the JVIarshals were iruiiors lo Louis, to whom they had

taken the oaths of allegiance. Masscna commanded in
the depai tment where 15onaparte landed ; but though lie
issued a strong |)roelamation against him, he did not march
to oppose his progress ; on the contrary, it appears, that
he dispatched some of his troops in an opposite direction
from tliat in which he was advancing. Grenoble was the
first military depot and garrison town at which he arrived ;
here a corps under General Marchand was posted : the
general was faithful, but the soldiers, on a short address
from him, joined his ranks. So quick and unmolested
was his progress, that on the 8th of March he reached
Lyons.

As soon as the intelligence of Bonaparte's landing was
known at Paris, the fatal consequences of Louis having put
such implicit faith in his Marshals were but too apparent.
Soult, imieed, as minister of war, issued an address to the
army, in which he denounced Bonaparte as a traitor, and as
the author of all the calamities of France ; but by this very
address, and by subsetpient official notices, he contrived to
annoimce to all France, the progress Bonaparte had made,
the little opposition he had met with, and the formidable
nature, as well as the probable successful result of his en-
terprize ; while he utterly neglected taking the proper
measures to apjirehend him, and is even suspected of hav-
ing stationed different corps in such a manner, as to serve
as the protectors of Bonaparte, where the populace might
have risen against him. Marshal Macdonald was not faith-
less to Louis, but he was not active in his behalf; and
the troops with whom he marched against Bonaparte re-
fused to act. Of all the traitors to their sovereign. Mar-
shal Ney was the most un])rincipled : he voluntarily came
forward with an offer of liis services to take Bonaparte,
dead or alive : troops were placed under his command for
that purpose : he advanced apparently against him ; but
on the I4ih of March, when Bonaparte had reached Lons
le Saulnier, he joined him, and issued a proclamation to
his army, in which he describes the Bourbons as unfit to
reign, and recommends liis troops to join the great Na-
poleon.

Under these circumstances, the zeal of the friends of
Louis was of no avail. Monsieur and the Duke of Or-
leans had advanced along with Macdonald to Lyons; but
the military were disaffected, and the people either indif-
ferent, and unwilling to expose themselves to danger, or
they were attached to Bonaparte. The inhabitants of Mar-
seilles, indeed, offered two millions of francs to the regi-
ment which should take Bonaparte alive ; but no regiment
moved to obtain the reward.

Louis, finding that the army was decidedly Against him,
endeavoured to attach the republican party to his interest,
by promising them a freer constitution ; but, at the same
time, he impolitically threatened the French nation with the
invasion of 300,000 foreigners, if Bonaparte should triumph.
In reality, surrounded as he was by traitors, and destitute
of those talents which were so necessary at the present
moment, his conduct was undecided and vacillating: — at
one moment he threw himself on the loyalty of the nation,
and declared his resolution to terminate his career by dying
in their defence: — at another moment, he must have irrita-
ted, rather than intimidated the people, by threatening them
with the return of those foreigners, by whose presence, in
their opinion, France had been so much degraded, and
from whom she had received that sovereign, who was now
about to claim their assistance.

In the mean time, Bonaparte advanced; and his advance
resembled a triumph, rather than the invasion of a conntry
nnder the dominion of another. It does not appear that
the troops which were sent against him, or which flocked
towards him fiom all quarters, actually joined him; but

FRANCE.

381

they were equally serviceable by their presence, in keep-
ing down such parts of tlie population as might have been
disposed to oppose his progress. Tlius, with soldiers pre-
ceding, Ibllowing, and accompanying him, he marched ra-
pidly from Lyons towards I'aris. On the 16th of March,
his advanced guard was at Auxerrc, 40 leagues from the
capital. In the evening of the 19lh, Louis left Paris ; and,
at 4 o'clock in the morning of the 20tli, Bonaparte entered
it. The departure of Louis was unmolested; and, during
his journey into the Netherlands, he experienced no insult
from the people; and even the soldiery treated him with
silent respect.

As soon as Bonaparte landed at Cannes, he issued ad-
dresses to the French people and to the army. In these
addresses, he assigns as his reasons for returning to France,
the degradation which that country had suffered from the
allies, and by the presence of the emigrants; those men
who, for twenty-five years, had been traversing all Europe
to raise up enemies against their country; and he lays
down the principle on which the French nation was in fu-
ture to act ;— to forget that they had been masters of na-
tions, but not to suffer any to intermeddle in their affairs.
In subsequent official declarations, however, the breach of
some of the articles of the treaty of Fontainebleau, by Louis
and by the congress of Vienna, was assigned for his hav-
ing reclaimed the throne of France.

The two great objects to which Bonaparte immediately
directed his attention, as soon as he arrived at Paris, where
the preservation of peace with the allies, and the complying
with the terms on which the republican party had agreed
to his return, by decreeing ihe forms of a free constitution.
In reference to the former object, he addressed a letter to
the sovereigns of Europe, filled with declamation against
the Bourbons, as a dynasty not fitted for the French people,
from which therefore the nation had separated herself, call-
ing upon him as their liberator ; and with sentimental effu-
sions in praise of peace, which he declared himself most
anxious to preserve. Convinced, however, that the allies
would not believe his protestations, but were preparing to
act most vigorously against him, he had recourse to the
usual methods of deceiving the French nation, who were
now beginning to be alarmed at the probable consequences
of his return, by representing the English as friendly to him,
and by fixing the day of the arrival of the Empress, as a
proof that the Emperor of Austria would not support the
Bourbons.

The most superficial knowledge of human nature will
not permit us to believe, that a man of such a decided cha-
racter as Bonaparte, with military and despotic habits so
long indulged and so strongly formed, could, during his
short residence in Elba, become a sincere convert to peace
and liberty. His declarations, therefore, in favour of both,
must be traced to the same motive. Perceiving that war
was inevitable, and that the people required a strong sti-
mulus to rouse them, and being under the controul of the
republican party, he consented to the drawing up of an ad-
ditional act to the constitution of the French empiie. In
this, there were certainly many excellent enactments ; but
even if France had remained at peace, they must, with the
habits and feelings of her population, have been complete-
ly nugatory. In order to give the appearance of the free
and general acceptance of this additional act, and to afford
the Parisians a spectacle, a deciee was passed, ordering
the assembly of 20,000 representatives of the whole people,
after the ancient manner of the Fianks, in the Champ de
Mai.

Bonaparte soon found that his newly acquired power
was likely to be shaken, not merely by foreign war, but by
internal commotion, while the despotic authority, which he

had formerly exercised, was peremptorily denied him by
the chambers. Nearly the whole of the west, antl many
districts of tlic south of France, were rising in favour of
the Bourlions, animated by the presence of the Duke do
Bcrri at Angers, the Duke d'Angouleme on the shores of
the Mediterranean, and the Duchess d'Angouleme at Bour-
deaux; and though these illustrious personages wei-e soon
compelled to leave France, yet they had succeeded in rais-
ing a s|)irit of resistance, not less formidable from its ex-
tent and union, than from its determined character. In La
Vendee, that former abode of loyalty to the Bourbons, a re-
gular and successful warfare in their behalf was carried on.
As soon as the allied powers were informed of the land-
ing of Bonaparte, they issued a declaration, dated the 13lh
of March, in which he was declared to have deprived him-
self of the protection of the law; to have manifested totlie
universe, that there could be neither peace nor truce with
him ; to have placed himself without the pale of civil and
social relations; and to have rendered himself liable to
public vengeance, as an enemy and disturber of the tran-
quillity of the world. Against him, therefore, and in sup-
port of the legitimate sovereign of France, they resolved
to make war. This declaration was strongly censured in
England, as encouraging the assassination of Bonaparte;
and though this interpretation was explicitly and indignant-
ly disavowed by the British ministry, yet, in the treaty
among the allied powers, which was formed on this decla-
ration, it was thought proper to omit these passages. By this
treaty. Great Britain, Russia, Austria, and Prussia, agreed
each to furnish 150,000 men; and not to lay down their
arms until Bonaparte was completely deprived of the pow-
er of exciting disturbances. When tiiis treaty was ratified
by Great Britain, a declaration was annexed, that there was
no intention to interfere in the internal government of
France : To this declaration the rest of the allies gave their
formal and solenui assent. Even before the treaty was ra-
tified, the allied troops were in motion towards the frontiers
of France; and two formidable armies, under the Duke of
Wellington and Prince Blucher, were soon assembled in
the vicinity of Brussels. The troops under the Duke of
Wellington were composed of British, Germans, Dutch,
and Belgians : Those under Blucher, of Prussians and
Saxons ; but, in consequence of the mutinous spirit of the
latter, most of them were sent back into Germany.

The preparations of Bonaparte were by no means com-
mensurate to those of the allies, nor indeed to the means
which France afforded; for it appears by the expose, that,
on the 1st of May 1814, the land forces of France amount-
ed to more than 520,000 men of all descriptions, besides
122,597 on half pay, and 160,000 prisoners. By the treaty
of Paris, all the prisoners were to be restored ; and, before
the return of Bonaparte, they all had returned to France,
except a few from Russia. Hence it would appear, that
' there must have been at least half a million of soldiers in
France. How it happened that Bonaparte could avail him-
self of the services of so few of these, does not clearly ap-
pear. It is probable, however, tliat the exhausted state of
France could not bear the equipment and support of a large
army; and it is certain, that the republican jiarty were ve-
ry unwilling to place a numerous army under his controul.
To this party, he found himself obliged more and more to
succumb. When he first reached Paris, his ministers were
Gaudin, Maret, Fouche, Davoust, Savary, and Bertrand.
Anxious to confirm the idea that he had abandoned his love
of conquest, and his despotic habits, Carnot was taken into
the miristry, and Lucien Bonaparte was persuaded to leave
Italy ar.d come to Paris. But all these pledges of a re-
foimed character, — his reoeated declaration, that he would
not commence hostilities, — and even the new constitution,

382

FltANCE.

and the assembly of the Champ de Mai, failed to slop the
progress of the royalists, or to rouse the muss of tlic people
in his behalf.

The manner in which the members of the assembly of
the Cliamp de Mai were chosen, the cliaracter of those
members, and their number, cannot accurately be ascer-
tained : I'lomthc known policy and practice of the French
government at all limes, as well as iVom the peculiar ne-
cessity which at ihis period existed, of imposing upon the
French nation and ihe allies, by the ai)pcarance of a zea-
lous devotion to Bonaparte, there can be little doubt, that
the Assembly of the C;hamp de Mai was in a great mea-
sure got up (to use a technical but expressive piirase) for
effect. At the same time, it must be acknowledged, that
in many parts of France very liberal, or perhaps licentious,
notions respecting liberty again began to prevail; and that
from these parts, it is probable, deputies, freely chosen,
and anxious to discharge their duty, were sent.

On the 7th of June, a few days after the assembly of the
Champ de ISIai, Bonaparte went in state to the palace of
representatives, to open the session of the chambers. The
oath of fidelity to the Emperor and the constitution having
been taken, he uncovered himself for a moment — after-
wards covered himself — 'and then addressed them in a
speech, of which the most imijortant topics were, the free
constitution which Franco had just received, — the formida-
ble coalition against the independence of the country, — the
actual commencement of hostilities, in the capture of a
French frigate by an English man of war, — and the assem-
blages that had been formed, and the communications whicii
were carried on, with Louis at Ghent, in the same manner
as with the emigrants at Coblentz in 1792. He concluded,
by alluding to the probability, that the first duty of princes
might soon call him to fight for the country ; that the army
and himself would discharge their duty ; while he trusted
tliat tlie peers and representatives would give to the nation
an example of confidence, energy, and patriotism, and, like
the Roman senate, swear to die rather than survive the dis-
honour of France. On the following day, in the House of
Representatives, bold and unequivocal proofs were afford-
ed, that Bonaparte was not now nearly so despotic, or so
much feared, as before his abdication ; and that even the
military were regarded with more jealousy, and as subser-
vient to the good of the state. For, on one of the members
proposing, that as the title of Louis le desire had been given
to Louis XVHL that of Smtveur de la Patrie should be
given to Napoleon, he was three times interrupted by calls
for the order of the day, and the president at last informed
him that he ought to obey them ; and on another member
moving, that the army had deserved well of the country,
the motion was thrown out, on the express ground, that,
till the soldiers had benefited the country, they ought not
to receive its thanks and gratitude.

Bonaparte still lingered in the capital, notwithstanding
war was actually commenced, and it seemed his policy to
attack the English and Prussians, before the rest of the aU
lies joined them, or invaded F'rance in other quarters. The
cause of his delay is not known ; but it probably arose from
the unsettled state of the interior of the kingdom, from his
apprehensions respecting the republicans in Paris, and from
the inadequacy of his means effectually to oppose tiie allies.
That his troo]5s would fight with most desperate courage,
he migl'.t confidently anticipate ; but there were other cir-
cumstances, besides their inferiority in numbers, which
might damp his hopes: many of those Marshals, who had
assisted or participated in his victories, were either along
with Louis, or were too coldly and equivocally of his party,
to be trusted. Among the former were Berthier, — his
most intimate and longest tried friend and companion, and

Marmoiit; — among the latter were M'Donald. Ney, who
miglit seem to have deserved his confidence, by his most
profligate treachery to Louis, was not with the army col-
lected on the northern frontier to oppose the Prussians and
English; nor had he hitherto received any intimation thit
he was to be employed : and even Soult had no distinguish-
ed command assigTied him. The force which Bonaparte
had collected for the defence of the immense frontier of
France does not appear to have exceeded 250,000 men;
besides the troops in the garrisons, most of which were
national ■guards; — of this force, about 130,000 men were
in the Netherlands; and the remaiiider were principally
under Rapp near Strasburg, and under Suchet, on the bor-
ders of Switzerland and Italy. Of the allies, none were
yet come up, except the English, Germans, Dutch, and
Belgians under the Duke of Wellington, who might amount
to 80,000 men; and the Prussians under Blucher, who pro-
bably exceeded 100,000: the former occupied the frontier
from the sea to Brussels; the latter from Brussels east-
ward. Next to them the Bavarians and Russians were to
take their position, while the Austrians, a large portion ot
whom were engaged at present in hostilities against Murat
in Italy, and the troops of the King of Sardinia, Sec. were to
invade France on the south-eastern frontier. Louis had
been invited to join the confederacy with what troops he
might have with him, but though a great number of offi-
cers left France and joined him at Ghent, scarcely any of
the French soldiers flocked to his standard.

On Sunday the 1 Ith of June, Bonaparte received addres-
ses from the two Chambers in reply to his opening speech ;
and on the next day, at four in the morning, he left Paris,
having nominated Generals Sebastiani,Grenier, Beaumont,
&;c. to the command of the capital, which had been rendet-
ed as strong as its position and nature would allow. On
the 14tb, he arrived at Avesnes, where he issued an order
of the day, reminding his troops that the 14th was the anni-
versary of the battles of Marengo and Friedland, and that
" to every Frenchman who had a heart, the moment was
arrived to conquer or perish." The position of his army
was as follows : The Imperial head quarters at Beaumont;
the 1st corps commanded by General D'Erlon, at Solfre on
the Sambre ; the 2d corps commanded by General Reille,
was at Ham-sur-Heure ; the 3d corps commanded by Gen-
eral Vandamme, was on the right of Beaumont ; and the
4th c<M'ps commanded by General Girard, was at Philippe-
ville. The Prussian posts were established on the Sam-
bre: these he attacked at day light on the morning of the
15th, and in the course of the day drove them from the ri-
ver, and made himself master of the groimd from Thuinto
Fleurus, a distance of about 16 miles, on the Namur road;
whilst on thcBiussels road, he forced back a Belgian bri-
gade to Quatre Bras, about 12 miles from the Sambre.
Bonaparte in this affair evidently had the advantage, and.
seems to have surprised the allies.

On the 1 6th, the Prussian army was posted on the heights
between Bril and Sombref, occupying the villages of St
Amand and Ligny, situated in its front. It consisted of
only three corps; the 4th corps was not yet come up.
Against these Bonaparte advanced in person with the 1st,
3d, and 4th corps, about three o'clock in the afternoon;
while Ney, whom he had at length called to the army, was
ordered to put himself at the head of the 2d corps, and at-
tack General Picton's division, the corps of the Duke of
Brunswick, and the Nassau contingent, which the Duke of
Wellington had dispatched in support of the Prussians, and
which had reached Quatre Bras about half past two o'clock.

The first object of Bonaparte was to gain possession of
St Amand ; and he succeeded after a vigorous resistance.
He nest advanced against Lignv, where the combat was of

FRANCE.

38:

amost desperate and sanguinary description. The Prussians,
Avith their gallant commander, were urged on to use their
most strenuous efforts, by every feeling of a national or in-
dividual nature, which can goad men to bravery and ven-
geance; for five hours the battle raged near this village
with doubtful success, while the Prussians, by retaking a
part of the village of St Amand, regained an advantageous
position on a height near tiiat village. Still, iiowever, the
French were gradually overpowering the Prussians by their
superiority of numbers ; anxiously did BUicher look for the
arrival of the 4th corps, or the support of the Enp;lish, but
the former did not come up, a^ the latter with difficulty
maintained their position at Quatre Bras. Bonaparte, per-
ceiving the advantage which he had gained, and the ex-
treme importance of pushing it to its utmost extent, as
soon as the darkness of the night favoured him, ordered a
division of the infantry to make a circuit round the village:
they accomplished this unobserved ; while, at the same time,
some regiments of cuirassiers forcing a passage on the
other side, the main body of the Prussian army was taken
in the rear; at the same moment, the French cavalry suc-
ceeded in repulsing several attacks of the Prussian cavalry:
this completed the success of Bonaparte : the Prussians
were compelled to retreat first to Sombref ; and as the 4th
corps was not yet come up, afterwards to Wavre.

The attack made by Ney on the English at Quatre Bras
was equally desperate in its nature, but not so successful
to the French in its result; for all their charges were re-
pulsed in the steadiest manner. In this affair the Duke of
Brunswick was slain.

In consequence of the retreat of the Prussians, the Duke
of Wellington retired on Waterloo. The position which
he occupied was good, but towards the centre it had vari-
ous weak points. It ran from the Brussels road to the right,
about a mile and a half in length ; and then turned very
sharply to the right, and crossed the road from Nivelle to
Namur : these two roads cross each other, so that the Bri-
tish position formed nearly a quarter circle. At the turn
of the bottom of a slope, was a farm and orchards, called
Mount St John, which was the key of the position, and the
front of the centre. On their left, the British communica-
ted with the Prussians at Wavre, through Ohaim.

At half past 10 o'clock in the forenoon of the tsth, Bona-
parte began to put his troops in motion ; and, about an hour
afterwards, one of his corps attacked the country-house on
the riglit of the British, where the Nassau troops were
posted : these were obliged to give way ; but the house it-
self was so well defended, that the French could not gain
possession of it. This attack on the right of the Brilisli
centre, Boiwparte accompanied with a dreadful fire of artil-
lery ; under the cover of which, he made repeated attacks
of cavalry and infantry, sometimes mixed, and sometimes
separate, from the centre to the right : but tlie skill of the
Duke of Wellington, and the admirable moral courage and
physical strength of his troops, were unconquerable.
Against one of these attacks of the French cavalry. Gene-
ral Picton, who was with his division on the road from Brus-
sels to Charleroi, advanced with the bayonet. The French,
struck with astonishment at the circumstance of infantry
advancing to the charge of cavalry, fired, and then fled.
At this moment, General Picton was unfortunately killed.
The English life guards next advanced against tlie 49lh
and 105th regiments of French infantT-y : to their suppoit
the cuirassiers came up : the most sanguinary cavalry fight
perhaps ever witnessed, was the consequence ; but the Bri-
tish weie victoiious, and the curassiers were annihilated.

The battle had now lasted upwards of five hours ; during
%v])ich Bonaparte had lost an immense number of men, by
his desperate charges, without being able to make any de-

cisive impression. The Duke of AVclllngton, with the skill
of a consummate general, kept his troops entirely on the
defensive ; but though he thus had saved their strength as
much as possible, yet they were beginning to be exhausted,
and their brave commander frequently turned his anxious
and vigilant eye to that quarter where he expected the
Prussians to arrive.

At break of day, the Prussian army had began to move ;
the 2d and 4th corps marched to take up a position whence
they might attack the Frencii on the rear, if circumstances
proved favourable. The 1st corps was to operate on the
right flank of the French ; and the 3d corps was to follow
slowly in order. About 5 o'clock, Bonaparte perceived
the advance of part of the Prussian army, which at first he
seems to have supposed to have been the division cf his
own army under Marshal Grouchy, who had been posted
on the rear of the allies to take advantage of their antici-
pated defeat. As soon, however, as he ascertained that it
was the Prussians, he repeated his attacks with cavalry and
infantry, supported by artillery, in a more desperate and
murderous manner than ever; but the British were im-
moveable. At last, about seven in the evening, he made a
last effort, putting himself at the head of his guards. He
succeeded for a moment in driving back the Brunswickers ;
but the Duke of Wellington, putting himsellat their head,
and animating them by a short speech, restored the com-
bat. At this critical moment, the Prussians came up :
General Bulow advanced rapidly on the rear of the right
wing of the French ; and Marshal Blucher had joined in
person with a corps of his army to the left of the British
army, by Ohaim. The Duke of Wellington headed the
foot-guards; spoke a few words to them, which were re-
plied to by a general hurrah ; and his Gi-ace guiding them
on with his hat, they marched at the point of the bayonet,
to close action with the imperial guard : but the latter be-
gan a retreat, in which they were imitated by the whole
French army. The British, completely exhausted, left the
pursuit to the Prussians, who, coming fresh to battle, soon
changed the retreat of the French into a rout, the most de-
structive, perhaps, ever known. In this battle, neai-Iy 300
pieces of cannon were taken, and upwards of 14,000 pri-
soners. The loss'bf the French in killed, especially on the
16th, when the Prussians neither gave nor i-eceived quar-
ter, was immense; on the !6th and 18th, it could not have
amounted to less than 40,000 men. On the 16th, the Prus-
sians lost about 16,000 men ; and on the 18th, the Duke of
Wellington's army about 13,000.

No battle, perhaps, ever was fought of a moi-e obstinate
description, or more decisive in its consequences. In this
one battle of Waterloo, the fate of Bonaparte was sealed,
and his empire again overthrown. In this one battle, the
fame of the Duke of Wellington was raised to a summit it
cannot possibly surpass ; and the British soldiers proved,
that they were worthy of being commanded by such a ge-
neral.

On leaving the field of battle, Bonaparte fled as rapidly
as possible to Pai-is, where he arrived on the 21st, and con-
voked a council of ministers. On the 22d, the two cham-
bers declared their sittings permanent; and Bonaparte was
given to understand, that his abdication was expected. He
accoi-dingly issued a declaratio;., in which he declared his
political life terminated; and proclaimed his son, under the
title of Napoleon II. His abdication was accepted by the
Chambers; but the question was evaded with regard to the
title of young Napoleon. A commission of five was cho-
sen to exercise provisionally the functions of government :
the members were, Fouche, Carnot, Gienicr, Caulincourt,
and Quinette. At first, the Chambers seem to have enter-
tained some hopes that the progress of the allies might

384

FRANCE.

liavc been arrested ; but on tlic representation of Ney, that
it was inipossiljlc to collect 25,000 men, tliey voted tliat an
attempt should be made to negociate an armistice with the
Duke of Wellington.

In the mean time, the Duke and Frince Blucher were
advancing rai)idly towards Paris. 'I'hc hitter was inisiic-
cessfnlly opposed by Marshal (irouehy, who having united
some of the fugitives from the Ijaltle of Waterloo with his
corps, at last reachud the capital with about 40,000 men.
With these, and some of the national guards. Sec. an at-
tempt was made to prevent the Prussians from taking a
position on the left of the Seine, the only part whciton de-
icribive works had been thrown up. On the failure of this
attemiJt, and the refusal of the Duke of ^Vellington to ne-
gociate an armistice, Paris was surrendered to the allies
by a military convention, the principal stipulations of which
were, that the French army should march out of it, and take
up a position behind the Loire ; that the duty of the city
should continue to be performed by the national guards;
that public and private property should be respected ; that
no person should be called to account for his conduct or
opinions ; and that the convention should be common to all
the allied powers, provided it were ratified by the powers
on whom the armies were dependant.* On the 8tli of July,
Louis entered his capital again, the provisional government
and the chambers being previously dissolved. A few days
afterwards he appointed his ministers, introducing a new
regulation, according to which there is to be a privy coun-
cil, comprehending the princes, the ministers, and such
others as the king may name; and a council of responsible
ministers. The latter are in number eight : consisting of
Talleyrand, president of the council, and secretary for fo-
reign affairs ; Baron Louis, minister of finance ; Fouche,
Duke of Otranto, of the police; Baron Pasquier, the de-
partment of justice, and keeper of the seal • Marshal Gou-
vion St Cyr, the department of war ; Count de Jaucour, the
marine; and the Duke de Richelieu, the household. The
appointment of Foucbe, a man more deeply stained with
ihc crimes of the Revolution, than perhaps any of the prin-
cipal surviving actors in that dreadful drp.ma, excited uni-
versal astonishment and indignation ; but these feelings
were almost entirely drawn aside from this appointment, by

the state of France at the moment wc are writing. The
army, which evacuated Paris, for some time assumed an at-
titinie of bold defiance on the banks of the Loire ; and at
length sent in a haughty, reluctant, and suspicious submis-
sion to Louis, coinmunicaled in an address from Davoust,
who commanded it, more like the state paper of an inde-
l)endcnt sovereign, than the penitent submission of a rebel-
lious and defeated general. Even after Louis had re-
ascended the throne, the armies of Bavaria, Russia, and
Austria, were obliged to fight their way to Paris ; and in
those instances, where they entered into negociations with
Bonaparte's generals, the latter were left in a coijdiiion of
independence on their legitimate sovereign, and almost
placed on a level with the victorious allies. Notwithstand-
ing the presence of nearly 300,000 troops of the allies, se-
ditious cries and movements constantly agitate the very pa-
lace of Louis. In many of the provinces, a spirit of disaf-
fection shews itself openly. In short, to judge from the-
present state of France, we should conclude, that it was not
the conquered but the victorious country, and that Bona-
parte, instead of being an exile, was still on the throne. In
this alarming crisis, the measures of Louis are timid and
vacillating. A few of Bonaparte's creatures, who swore
allegiance to Louis, and then betrayed him, have been or-
dered to be arrested and tried ; but it is extremely doubt-
ful, whether this order will be followed even by an attempt
to take them; and if they are taken, by whom are they to
be tried ? by men as guilty as themselves I The paramount
feeling which thus agitates France, is that of wounded self-
love ; the disgrace and humiliation of being conquered,
which, in the time of their success, they most insultingly
poured on other nations, is returned on themselves ; the de-
moralization which the national character has suffered dur-
ing the Revolution, has become so deeply seated, and so
constitutional, that the severe remedies which have been
applied serve only to irritate and inflame. Hence there is
reason to apprehend, that it will require a considerable
length of time, and measures of consummate wisdom, ap-
plied with extreme caution, to restore France to that state,
in which she may become a peaceable, safe, and useful
member of the community of Europe.

STATISTICS.

CHAP. I.

^Boundarus and Extent of France — Progressive Geogra-
Jihij — Dh'ision into Provinces and Departments — Mili-
tary Divisions.

Bv tlie treaty of Paris in IS 14, the kingdom of France was
reduced within the same limits that bounded it previously
to the Revolution; but its extent of territory was rather
larger; for Avignon and the county of the Venaissin, which
liad formerly belonged to the Pope, but which had been in-
corporated with France before January 1792, were declared
to be integral and permanent parts of that kingdom by the
treaty alluded to.

France, as it is bounded at present, is marked out as one

of the separate kingdoms of Europe, by natural limits on
three of its sides. These are, the Channel between it and
England on the north ; the Bay of Biscay on the west, and
the Pyrenean mountains and the Mediterranean sea on the
south : on the east, north-east, and south-east, its limits are
not accurately fixed by nature. On the east, it borders on
Germany and Switzerland; on the north-east, on those pro-
vinces which formerly composed the Austrian Netherlands,
but which are now united to tlolland ; and on the south-
east, on Savoy and Piedmont. It extends from the 42 J to
nearly the 5 1st degree of north latitude, and comprehends
above 1 1 degrees of longitude ; the most easterly part of
Alsace lying 7 degrees eastward of the meridian of Green-
wich, and the most westerly part of Brittany rather more
than 4 degrees westward of the same meridian. Were it

* AUhoiigh the fate ofRon.iparte, after his second abdicition, is rather tbe subject of biop-aphy than of history, yet we sliall here subjoin
tlie particulars of it. Before the allies reached Paris, he quitted that capital and went to liocliefort, where vessels were prepared to carry
him and his attendants to America. The British government, however, intormed of his plan, blockaded this part of the Trench coast so effec-
tually, that he found liimself compelled to surrender to Captain Mailland of the Belleroplion, who commanded the blockading squadron. In
this ship he was brought to the coast of Kngland, but not suffered to land ; and about tltf middle of August, he was sent to the island of St
Helena with part of his suite, to be kept there during the remaijider of his life.

FRANC K,

385

not for this province, wliicli strclclics about 100 miles far-
ihcr into the Atlantic Ocean than any other part of the
kiiigdoiti, the form of Fiance would be almost a square,
anil the breadth and length pretty nearly equal, i. e. about
560 miles.

The area of France has been variously estimated. Ac-
cording to the map of the Royal Academy of Sciences at
Paris, it contains 28,386 square leapjues, 25 to a deiajrec ;
according to the map of IX-lisle, 25,S39. Nolin makes it
28,054; Defer, 31,278; Sanson, 31,657: llie medium of
these is 28,642. Buschini;, reckonini;- 15 miles to a degree,
fixes tlie extent of France at IO,OOU square miles; the Mar-
shal De Vauban makes it 30,000 leagues, or 140,940,000
arpents; Voltaire 130,000,000 arpents. Templenian gives
it an extent of 138,837 square geographical miles; but as
he reckons only 60 miles to a degree, this number must be
reduced to 119,224,874 acres. Panclon, by covering his
map with shot to every indenture of outline, found the
kingdom to contain 103,021,840 arpents, each of 100 per-
ches, at 22 feet the perch, or 1344^ toises square to the
arpent; instead of which, the arpent of Paris contains but
900 toises. According to this measurement, France con-
tains 81,687,016 English acres; but this is undoubtedly
too few. The Jiiicyclo/iedie asi,'\gns 100,000,000 arpents;
observing that, by the mi;p of Cassini, the amount is
125,000,000. The author of V Imjiot Abonnc calculates it
at 105,000,000; and the autlior oi Ajwhgie sur I'EdH de
JVantcs, at 135,600,000. M. Ncckar seems to have been
the first who ascertained the area of France with consider-
able accuracy. According to him (not including Corsica)
it comprehends 26,951 leagues square, of 2282 toises,
or 156,024,213 arpents of Paris, which is equivalent to
131,722,295 English acres. This calculation is nearly
adopted by M. Jorse, author of the Credit A'afiuiiale, who
reckons that France contains 27,000 leagues at 2282 toises,
5785 arpents of Paris to a league, and also by Mr A.
Young: This gives to France 156,225,720 arpents. The
committee of the first National Assembly stated it soon af-
terwards at 26,463 square leagues; and this is probably
pretty accurately the area of France as it is now bounded.

The progressive geography of this kingdom presents
very difl'ercnt limits and divisions at different times. The
ancient Gaul, as has already been remarked in the History
of France, comprehended a larger portion of territory than
France now contains. Uiider the name Gallia, was origin-
ally comprehended Gallia Cisalpina, and Gallia Transal-
pina : the former was entirely on the south side of the Alps,
and the latter contained all the present France, and that
part of Germany and Belgium westward of the Rhine.
According to the Alibe du Fresnoy, ancient Gaul, by which
lie means Gallia Transalpina, was bounded on the south by
the Pyrenees, the Mediterranean Sea, and the Var ; on the
east by the Alps and the Rhine ; on the north by the same
river; and on the west by the ocean. The Romans first
illustrated the geography of Gaul, which they considered
as divided into three chief regions, the Celtic, Belgic, and
Aquitaine. The bounds of Gallia Celtica were the ocean,
the Seine, the Marne, the Saone, the Rliine, and the Ga-
ronne. Gallia Belgica vvas bounded by the Seine, the
Marne, the mountains of Vosges, the Rhine, and the ocean ;
and Gallia Aquitania by the ocean, Garonne, and the Py-
renees. Augustus divided Gaul into four parts; Gallia
Narbonensis, which comprehended Languedoc, Foix, Vi-
varres, Provence, Dauphiny, and Savoy ; Aquitania, which
v^'as of larger extent than it had been in the time of Julius
Caesar, and comprehended all the country between the Py-
renees, the ocean, and the Loire; Lugdunensis, the largest
of all, which was bounded by the ocean, the Loire, the
Seine, the Marne, and the mountains of Vosges; and Bel-

VoL. IX. Part. I.

Rica, which vvas bounded by tlic ocean, the country of
Oaux, llic Seine, tlic Marne, the mountains of Vosges, and
the Rhine.

The A'otilia Im/ierii, which was made in the fourth cen-
tury, presents us with another division of Gaul ; for there
it is divided into five great provinces; Lugdunensis, Bel-
gica, Gcrmania, Vienensis, and Aquitania, each of which
are subdivided into several others. The Emperor Constan-
tine the Great divided Gaul into seventeen provinces or
governments, six of which wcic consular, aiid eleven un-
der certain presidents sent by the Emperor, who resided
in the capital cities. The names of the provinces and the
capital cities were, 1. Narbonncnsis prima, capital city
Narbonne ; 2. Narbonnensis secunda, capital city Aix in
Provence; 3. Viennensis, capital city Viennc in Dauphiny;
4. Alpes Graiae and Penninse, capital city Moustenon in
Tarentaise, a province of >Savoy ; 5. Alpes Maritimx, ca-
pital city Embrun in Dauphiny; 6. Lugdunensis prima,
capital city Lyons; 7. Lugdunensis secunrla, capital city
Rouen ; 8. Lugdunensis tertia, capital city Tours ; 9. Lug-
dunensis quarta, capital city .Sens in Chamjiagne; 10. Se-
quania, capital city Besancon ; 11. Aquitania prima, ca-
pital city Bourges; 12. Aquitania secunda, capital city
Bourdeaux ; 13. Novempopularia, capital city Auch in
Gascony ; 14. Germania prin\a, capital city Mentz ; 15.
Germania secunda, capital city Cologne; 16. Belgica pri-
ma, capital city Triers; and, 17. Belgica secunda, capital
city Rheims.

After the death of Clovis, the domhiion of the Franks
was divided into two parts, viz. Oesterric, or the Eastern
Kingdom, called by corruption Austrasia ; and Westerric,
or the Western Kingdom, called Neustria. The former
contained all old France, as it existed in the time of Clovis ;
that is, all the country that reached from the Rhine to the
Loire, and the country behind the Marne, which the Franks
had conquered, together with Rheims, Chalons, Cambray and
Laon, which was from that time a separate kingdom, the seat
of which was ISIelz in Lorraine. Aquitania was not compris-
ed under the name of France; nor Burgundy, even after it had
been conquered ; nor the lower part of Brittania Armorica,
which was at this time an independent state. Neustria con-
tained all the country that lies between the Loire and the
Meuse, and was divided into three kingdoms: 1. France,
the capital of which was Paris; this comprehended what
is now called the Isle of France; 2. Orleans; 3. Soissons.
Afterwards, when the Franks had subdued the Visigoths
and Burgundians, two other kingdoms were erected, Aqui-
taine and Burgundy.

Some French historians and geographers are of opinion,
that under the Merovingian race of kings, the territory of
France had nearly the same limits which it now possesses;
that under the Carlovingian race nearly the whole was
wrested from the sovereign by the abuse of the feudal sys-
tem ; and that, under the Capctian dynasty, nearly the whole
was recovered. The original domain of the crown under
Hugh Capet seems to have consisted of Picardy, the Isle
of France, and the Orieannois. Berry was the first pro-
vince that was reunited to the crown: It was governed by
Counts, who continued in possession of it till about the year
1 100, when Eudes Aspin sold it to King Philip I. wlio uni-
ted it to his dominions. Touraine and Normandy were con-
fiscated to the crown, or conquered under Philip Augustus.
Languedoc was next annexed, by inheritance, under Plulip
the Hardy ; but, according to some, it was not absolutely
united to the crown till the reign of King J<jhn in 1316.
Champagne was governed by its Counts till 1274, alwliich
period, Jane, who was the last Countess, was married to
Prince Philip, son of Philip the Hardy; and thus this pro-
vince was united to F^Shce, though the final and permanent

;86

FHANCK

union did not take place till 1361, in the reign of King
John. The province of Lyonnois came into the possession
of the crown under Pliilip tlic Fair; Dauphiny under Philip
de Valois. Poitou, Aunis, Liinosin, and Saintonge, were
conquered by Charles V.; and Guicnne and Gascony by
Charles VII. Maine and Aiijou were acquired by inheri-
tance, under Louis XI. The same monarch seized the
duchy of Burgundy as an escheat to the crown, and took
possession of all Provence on the death of Charles, King
of Sicily, who was Count of Provence. Anne of Brittany,
the only daughter of Francis II. the last duke of that pro-
vince, married Charles VIII. and afterwards Louis XII.
by the last of whom she had two daughters, the eldest of
whom married Francis I. who united Brittany to the crown
of France in 1532. Under this monarch, Auvergnc, Bour-
bonnois, and Marche, were confiscated and united lo the
crown. Beam, Foix, and a part of Gascony, were the pa-
trimony of Henry IV. and thus were united lo France when
he ascended the throne of that kingdom. Roussillon for-
merly belonged to Spain ; but Louis XIII. took it in 1642,
and it was afterwards yielded to France by the treaty of the
Pyrenees in 1659. The house of Austria had Artois till
the reign of the same monarch ; but he having conquered
great part of it, it was ceded to him by Philip IV. King of
Spain, and afterwards by Charles II. his son. Alsace was
yielded to the French by the treaty of Ryswick, in the reign
of Louis XIV. Franche Coniptc continued subject to tlie
house of Austria till Louis XIV. seized it in 1668, but he
was obliged to restore it the next year : He seized it again
in 1674, and it was confirmed to him by the treaties of Ni-
meguen and Ryswick. That part of the Low Countries
which France retains by the recent treaty of Paris, were
acquired by conquest in the reign of Louis XIV. Lorraine
was the last acquisition of France before the Revolution,
though part of it, the three bishoprics of Metz, Toul, and
Verdun, were seized by Henry II. and yielded to France
by the treaty of Westphalia in 1648: the other parts of
this province, the Duchy of Lorraine properly so called,
and the duchy of Bar, were seized by Louis XV. and af-
terwards ceded to him by treaty.

Before the Revolution, France was divided into 32 dis-
tinct governments, 18 of which are in the circuit, and 14
in the middle of the kingdom. The first national assem-
bly, by its decrees of the 15th of January, and the 16th and
26th of February 1790, divided France into 83 departments.
As, however, the divisions as they existed before the Re-
volution are still frequently referred to, and as a knowledge
of them is absolutely necessary to the right understanding
of the history of this kingdom, we shall enumerate them,
as well as the corresponding departments. It is proper,
however, to premise, that each department is subdivided
into 3, 4, or 5 districts, called com?nunes arrondissemenls.
These districts are again divided into cantons, and lastly,
each canton is composed of a certain number of communes,
that is to say, of towns and villages. A commune is some-
times a single town, and sometimes a union of several vil-
lages, possessing a mayor and communal municipality. All
the considerable cities are divided into several communes.

I. The province of Flanders, or the territories which
France possessed in the western part of the Netherlands
before the Revolution, and which she still retains. This
forms the department of the North, which contains 6 dis-
tricts, 60 cantons, and 671 communes; its territorial extent
is 6030 kilometers, — 24 kilometers being very nearly equal
to 7 square miles, of 60 to a degree. The principal town
in this department is Donay.

II. The province of Artois forms the department of the
Straits of Calais, which contains 5 djislricts, 43 cantons, and

953 communes; its territorial extent is 7042 J kilometers,
its principal town is Arras.

III. The principal part of Picardy forms the department
of the Somnie, which contains 5 distr'n ts, 41 cantons, and
848 communes. Its territorial extent is 6512i kilometers,
its principal town is Amiens. .

IV. Normandy is divided into the departments of the
Lower Seine, the Eure, the Orme, Calvados, and the Chan-
nel. The Lower Seine contains 3 districts, 20 cantons, and
79 communes; its territorial extent is 6372* kilometers;
its principal town is Rouen. The department of the Eure
contains 5 districts, 36 cantons, and 843 communes; itster-
ritoiial extent is 6 182 J kilometers; its principal town is
Evreaux. The department of the Orme contains 4 dis-
tricts, 38 cantons, and 627 conmiunes ; its territorial extent
is 6375 kilometers ; its principal town is Alen^on. The
department of Calvados contains 6 districts, 37 cantons, and
896 communes; its territorial extent is 5640 kilometers;
its principal town is Caen. The department of the Chan-
nel contains 5 districts, 48 cantons, and 669 communes; its
territorial extent is 6890 kilometers ; its principal town is
Coutances.

V. The province of the Isle of France is divided into
the departments of the. Aisne, the Oise, the Seine, the
Seine and Marne, and the Saine and Oise. The depart-
ment of the Aisne contains 5 districts, 37 cantons, and 853
communes; its territorial extent is 7422} kilometers ; its
principal town is Laon. The department of the Oise con-
tains 4 districts, 35 cantons, and 738 communes; its terri-
torial extent is 6082J kilometers; its principal town is
Beauvois. The department of the Seine contains 3 dis-
tricts, 20 cantons, and 79 communes ; its territorial extent
is 453^ kilometers ; its principal town is Paris. The de-
paitmcnt of the Seine and the Marne contains 5 districts,
29 cantons, and 561 communes; its territorial extent is
6127i kilometers; its principal town is Melun. The de-
partment of the Seine and Oise contains 5 districts, 36
cantons, and 696 communes; its territorial extent is 5880
kilometers; its principal town is Versailles.

VI. The province of Champagne contains the depart-
ments of the Ardennes, of the Marne, of the higher Marne,
of the Aube and the Yonne. The department of the Ar-
dennes contains 5 districts, 34 cantons, and 599 communes;
its territorial extent is 6242i kilometers ; its principal
town is Mezieres. The department of the Marne con-
tains 5 districts, 32 cantons, and 699 communes ; its terri-
torial extent is 8486 kilometers ; its principal town is Cha-
lons. The department of the higher Marne contains 3 dis-
tricts, 28 cantons, and 552 communes; its territorial ex-
tent is 6540 kilometers; its principal town is Chaumont.
The department of tlie Aube contains 5 districts, 26 can-
tons, and 423 communes ; its territorial extent is 6242
kilometers ; its principal town is Troyes. The depart-
ment of the Yonne contains 5 districts, 34 cantons, and 484
communes ; its territorial extent is 7740 kilometers ; its
principal town is Auxerre.

VII. The province of Lorraine is divided into the de-
partments of the Meuse, the Moselle, the Meurthe, and
the Vosges. The department of the Meuse contains 4
districts, 28 cantons, and 591 communes ; its territorial ex-
tent is 6275 kilometers ; its principal town is Bar-le-duc.
The department of the Moselle contains 4 districts, 30
cantons, and 934 communes ; its territorial extent is 6552i
kilometers ; its principal town is Metz. The department
of the Meurthe contains 5 districts, 29 cantons, and 718
communes ; its territorial extent is 6430 kilometers ; its
principal town is Nancy. The department of Vosges con-
tains 5 districts, 30 cantons, and 550 communes ; its ter-

FliANCE.

387

ritoiial extent is 6522 i kilometers; its principal town is
Epinal.

VIII. The province of Alsace is divided into the depart-
ments of the Lower and the lliijlicr Rliine. The dtparl-
racnt of tlie Higher Rhine contains 5 districts, 39 cantons,
and 703 communes; its tcrritoiial extent is 6030 kilo-
meters ; its principal town is Colmar. The department
of the l/ower Rhine contains 4 districts, 37 cantons, and
616 communes; its territorial extent is 5695 kilometers;
its principal town is Strasburg.

IX. The province of Brittany comprehends the depart-
ments of the lUe and Villaine, the Lower Loire, Morbi-
han, the North Coast, and Finisterre. The department
of the lUe and Villaine contains 6 districts, 43 cantons,
and 352 communes; its territorial extent is. 7185 kilo-
meters ; its principal town is Rennes. The department of
the Lower Loire contains 5 districts, 45 cantons, and 209
communes ; its territorial extent is 7660 kilometers ; its
principal town is Nantes. The department of Morbihan
contains 4 districts, 37 cantons, and 231 communes; its
territorial extent is 7067 i kilometers ; its principal town is
Vannes. The department of the North Coast contains 5
districts, 47 cantons, and 376 cominuncs ; its territorial
extent is 75674 kilometers; its principal town is Saint
Brieux. The department of Finisterre contains 5 districts,
43 cantons, and 287 communes ; its territorial extent is
7292 i kilometers ; its prhicipal town is Quimper.

X. The province of Maine is divided into the depart-
ment of the Maine and the Sarthe. The department of
the Maine contains 3 districts, 27 cantons, and 288 com-
munes ; its territorial extent is 5452A kilometers ; its prin-
cipal town is Laval. The department of the Sarthe con-
tains 4 districts, 33 cantons, and 413 communes; its ter-
ritorial extent is 6467i kilometers ; its principal town is
Leillans.

XI. The province of Anjou forms the department of the
Maine and Loire, which contains 5 districts, 34 cantons,
and 385 communes; its territorial extent is 7637i kilo-
meters ; its principal town is Angers.

XII. The province of Tourraine forms the department
of the Indre and Loire, which contains 3 districts, 24 can-
tons, and 311 communes; its territorial extent is 6452^
kilometers ; its principal town is Tours.

XIII. The province of Orleannois comprehends the de-
partments of the Eure and Loire, the Loire and Cher, and
the Loiret. The department of the Eure and Loire con-
tains 5 districts, 36 cantons, and 843 communes; its terri-
torial extent is 6182i kilometers; its principal town is
Chartres. The department of the Loire and Cher con-
tains 3 disti'icts, 24 cantons, and 309 comtnunes; its terri-
torial extent is 67174 kilometers; its principal town is
Blois. The department of the Loiret contains 4 districts,
31 cantons, and 363 communes; its territorial extent is
70474 kilometers ; its principal town is Orleans.

XIV. The province of Poitou comprehends the depart-
ments of Vievere, the two Sevres, and La Vendee. The
department of Vievere contains 5 districts, 31 cantons, and
344 communes ; its territorial extent is 7340 kilometers ;
its pru.-;ipal town is Poitiers. The department of the Two
Sevres coi.tains 4 districts, 3 1 cantons, and 363 communes ;
its territorial ».xtent is 63374 kilometers ; its principal
town is Niort. The department of La Vendee contains 3
districts, 29 cantons, und 324 communes ; its territorial ex-
tent is 7242 A kilometers ; its principal town is Fontenay.

XV. The province of Beriy comprehends the depart-
ments of the Indre and the Cher. The department of the
Indre contains 4 districts, 23 cantons, and 275 communes ;
its territorial extent is 7395 kilometers ; its chief town is
Chateauroux. The department of the Cher contains 3

districts, 29 cantons, and 307 communes ; its territorial ex-
tent is 7385 kilometers ; its principal town is Bourges.

XVI. The Nivernois forms the department of the
Nievre, which contains 4 districts, 25 cantons, and 330
communes; its teritorial extent is 7365 kilometers; its
principal town is Nevers.

XVII. The Bourbonnois forms the department of the
Allier, which contains 4 districts, 26 cantons, and 350 com-
munes ; its territorial extent is 74274 kilometers ; its prin-
cipal town is Moulins.

XVIII. The province of Burgundy forms the depart-
ments of the Cole d'Or, the Saonc and Loire, and the Ain.
The department of the Cote d'Or contains 4 districts, 36
cantons, and 733 communes; its territorial extent is 91924
kilometers ; its principal town, Dijon. The department
of the Saone and Loire contains 5 districts, 48 cantons, and
609 communes ; its territorial extent is 89124 kilometers ;
its principal town, Macon. The department of the Ain
contains 4 districts, 32 cantons, and 416 communes; its
territorial extent is 5675 kilometers ; its principal town is
Bourg.

XIX. The province of Franche Compte comprehends
the departments of the Higher Saone, the Doubs, and Jura.
The department of the Higher Saone contains 3 districts,
27 cantons, and 640 communes ; its territorial extent is
55824 kilometers; its principal town is Vesoul. The de-
partment of the Doubs contains 4 districts, 25 cantons, and
605 communes; its territorial extent is 5340 kilometers;
its principal town is Besamjon. The department of Jura
contains 4 districts, 32 cantons, and 728 communes ; its
territorial extent is 52374 kilometers; its principal town
is Lons-le-Saulnier.

XX. The Pays d'Aunis forms the department of the
Lower Charente, which contains 6 districts, 37 cantons,
and 506 communes; its territorial extent is 72474 kilo-
meters ; its principal town is Saintes.

XXI. The province of Saintonge forms the department
of the Charente, which contains 5 districts, 28 cantons, and
455 communes; its territorial extent is 6310 kilometers;
its principal town is Angouleme.

XXII. The province of Marche comprehends the de-
partments of the Higher V^ienne, and tlie C reuse. The
department of the Higher Vienne contains 4 districts, 26
cantons, and 224 communes ; its territorial extent is 6002 4
kilometers ; its principal town is Limoges. The depart-
ment of the Creuse contains 4 districts, 25 cantons, and 296
communes; its territoiial e.Ktent is 59024 kilometers ; its
principal town is Gueret.

XXIII. The Limosin forms the department of Correge,
which contains 3 districts, 29 cantons, and 294 communes;
its territorial extent is 58574 kilometers ; its principal town
is Tulles.

XXIV. The province of Auvergne comprehends the
departments of Puy de Dome and Cantal. The depart-
ment of Puy de Dome contains 3 districts, 50 cantons, and
458 communes; its territorial extent is 8450 kilometers;
its principal town, Clermont. The department of Cantal
contains 4 districts, 23 cantons, and 270 communes ; its
territorial extent is 59374 kilometers ; and its principal
town is Aurillac.

XXV. The province of Lyonnois is divided into the de-
partments of the Rhone, and the Loire. The departmcn:
of the Rhone contains 2 districts, 25 cantons, and 251 com-
munes ; its territorial extent is 2935 kilometers ; its prin-
cipal town is Lyons. The department of the Loire con-
tains 3 districts, 28 cantons, and 327 communes ; its terri-
torial extent is 5135 kilometers ; its principal town is Mon-
brison.

XXVI. The province of Guienne is divided into thc-

3 C 2

388

FllANCE.

departments of the Gironde, tlic Dordogne, tlic Lot, and
Garonne, the Lot, Aveyron, tlic Gers, the Higher Pyre-
nees, and the Landes. The department oi" the Gironde
contains 6 districts, 48 cantons, and 580 coniniuncs ; its
territorial extent is 1170 kilometers; its principal town is
Bourdeaux. The department of the Dordogne contains 5
districts, 47 cantons, and 642 communes ; its territorial ex-
tent is 9482i kilometers ; its principal town is Pcrigucux.
The department of the Lot and Garonne contains 4 dis-
tricts, 38 cantons, and 469 communes; its territorial ex-
tent is 6100 kilometers ; its principal town is Agen. The
department of the Lot contains 4 districts, 41 cantons, and
440 communes ; its territorial extent is 7432^ kilometers ;
its principal town is Cahors. The department of Aveyron
contains 5 districts, 43 cantons, and 589 communes ; its
territorial extent is9477J kilometers; and its principal
town is Rhodez. The department of Gers contains 5 dis-
tricts, 30 cantons, and 700 communes ; its territorial ex-
tent is 7047 i kilometers ; and its principal town is Anch.
The department of the Higher Pyrenees cont:iiiis 3 dis-
tricts, 26 cantons, and 501 communes; its teriitorial extent
is 4937i kilometers ; and its principal town is Tarbes.
The department of the Landes contains 3 districts, 28 can-
tons, and 368 communes : its territorial extent is 9475
kilometers ; its pi'incipal town is Mont de Marsan.

XXVH. The province of Berne forms the department
of the Lower Pyrenees, which contains 5 districts, 40 can-
tons, and 660 communes; its territorial extent is 8072i
kilometers ; its principal town is Pan.

XXVHI. The province of Foix forms the department
of the Arriege, which contains 3 districts, 20 cantons, and
337 communes; its territorial extent is 3050 kilometers;
its principal town is Foix.

XXIX. The province of Rousillon forms the depart-
ment of the Eastern Pyrenees, which contains 3 dis-
tricts, 17 cantons, and 249 communes; its territorial
extent is 337i kilometers; its principal town is Per-
pignan.

XXX. The province of Languedoc is divided into the
departments of the Tarn, the Higher Garonne, the He-
rault, the Ande, the Garde, the Ardeche, the Higher Loire,
and the Lozere. The department of the Tarn contains 4
districts, 35 cantons, and 356 communes ; its territorial ex-
tent is 6080 kilometers ; its principal town is Castres. The
department of the Higher Garonne contains 5 districts, 42
cantons, and 691 communes ; its territorial extent is 8077i
kilometers ; its principal town is Toulouse. The depart-
ment of the Herault contains 4 districts, 36 cantons, and
333 communes; its territorial extent is 65 12^ kilometers;
its principal town is Montpellier. The department of the
Aude contains 4 districts, 31 cantons, and 436 communes;
its territorial extent is 65423 kilometers; its principal
town is Carcassone. The department of the Garde con-
tains 4 districts, 38 cantons, 365 communes; its territoiial
extent is 6280 kilometers ; its principal town is Nismes.
Tlie department of the Ardeche contains 3 districts, 31
cantons, and 335 communes ; its territorial extent is 5710
kilometers ; its principal town is Privas. The department
of the Higher Loire contains 3 districts, 28 cantons, and
272 communes ; its territorial extent is 5282 5 kilometers ;
its principal town is Le Puy. The department of the
Lozere contains 3 districts, 24 cantons, and 193 com-
munes; its territorial extent is 5390 kilometers; its prin-
cipal town is Mende.

XXXI. Tiie province of Dauphiny comprehends the
departments of the Isere, the Drome, and the Higher Alps.
The department of the Isere contains 4 districts, 44 can-
tons, and 558 communes ; its territorial extent is 8940 kilo-
meters ; its principal town is Grenoble. The department

of the Drome contains 4 districts, 28 cantons, and 360 com-
munes ; its territorial extent is 6927 kilometers ; its prin-
cipal town is Valence. The department of the Higher
Alps contains 3 districts, 23 cantons, and 185 communes ;
its territorial extent is 5650 kilometers; its principal town
is Gap.

XXXII. The province of Provence contains the depart-
ments of the Lower Alps, the Var, and the Mouths of the
Rhone. The dcpaitment of the Lower Alps contains 5
districts, 28 cantons, and 260 communes; its territorial
extent is 74I2i kilometers ; and its principal town is Digne.
The department of the Var contains 4 districts, 32 can-
tons, and 210 communes ; its territoiial extent is 75 10 kilo-
meters ; its i)rincipal town Toulon. The department of
the Mouths of the Rhone contains 5 districts, 26 cantons,
and 108 communes ; its territorial extent is 5315 kilome-
ters; its principal town is Aix.

Avignon and the adjoining territory, which belonged to
the Pope before the Revolution, are now incorporated with
France, and form the department of \'aucluse, which con-
tains 4 distiicts, 22 cantons, and 150 communes; its terri-
torial extent is 3700 kilometers ; its principal town is Avig-
non.

The island of Corsica is formed into the two departments
of the Golo and the Liamone. The department of the Go-
lo contains 3 districts, 39 cantons, and 235 communes; its
territorial extent is 3267i kilometers; its principal town
is Bastia. The department of the Liamone contains 3 dis-
tricts, 21 cantons, and 156 communes; its territorial ex-
tent is 2955 kilometers; its principal town is Ajaccio.

The following are the military divisions of France, each
of which is commanded by a general of division. I. Paris;
2.Mezieres; 3. Metz; 4. Nancy ; S.Strasburg; 6. Bcsan-
5on ; 7. Grenoble ; 8. Marseilles; 9. Montpellier; 10. Tou-
louse; 1 1. Bourdeaux ; 12. Nantes; lo.Rennes; 14. Caen;
15. Rouen; 16. Lisle; 17. Dijon; 18. Lyons; 19. Perigueux ;
20. Bourges; 2 I.Tours; 22. Bastia.

CHAP. H.

Face of the Country — Mountains — Rivers — Etangs—Sea
Coast — Canals — Soil — Climate.

The face of the country in France is generally level;
elevations, deserving the name of mountains, occurring
about the centre, and in the southern provinces ; and Mr
Young remarks, that it is 400 miles south of Calais before
we meet with the mountains of Auvergne, which are con-
nected with those of Dauphiny, Languedoc, and Provence,
but not with the Pyrenees. These, and the other moun-
tains, we shall afteru'ards particularly notice : at present
we shall confine ourselves to the other features of the coun-
try. The finest parts of France lie along the course of the
Seine to Paris; thence by the great road to Moulins, at
which place it should be left, and the road to Auvergne
followed ; and from hence to Viviers on the Rhine, and so
by Aix to Italy. The provinces of Bretagne, iVIaine, and
Angouleme, have, in general, the appearance of deserts :
the first has been compared to the west of Devonsl'ire ; it
comes, however, nearer to Cornwall. Somepai'sof Four-
raine are rich and pleasing, but most of the province is de-
ficient in beauty. Picardy is unintere«'-ing, and has been
called the Cambridgeshire of France. Poilou is by no
means a pleasant province, and its marshes resemble the
Norfolk and Lincolnshire fen's. Champagne is little less
interesting, in general, than Poitou. Where Lorraine,
Franche Compl4. and Burgundy, are well wooded, they
are gloomy ; and, even in the open parts of them, they are
destitute of cheerfulness. The same character applies to

FRANCE.

389

the provinces of Berry and La Manche. The richness of
Flanders, Artois, and Alsace, is ratlier tiial of utility than
of pictutesqucness. In the opinion of Mr Young, the pro-
vince of Liiiiosin possesses nioie general beauty than any
other proi'iiicc of France : the Vivarrais and the adjoining
part of Dauphiny are the most romantic. The picturesr|uc
beauty of the hilly parts of France is much increased by
the rich and hiy.uriant verdure of the chcsnut trees, parti-
cularly in tlie Liniosin, the Vivarrais, Auvergne, and other
districts where they are common.

The most level tracts are the French Netherlands on
the north ; on the western side, extensive morasses occur
in the department of La \''endee and the adjacent districts.
F'rom the mouth of the Garonne nearly to the borders of
Spain, the coast consists of a flat, sandy, and barren tract,
called the Landes. The other parts of France are, in gen-
eral, agreeably diversified with gentle risings and depres-
sions.

The principal mountains are, 1. The Cevennes, which
are the principal centre of the primitive mountains of France,
and extend into several branches. According to Delame-
therie, the principal branch runs along the river Ardeche
towards Alls; another branch traverses the Rhone, on the
side of Tournon and Vienne, towards the plains of Dau-
phiny ; a third branch forms the mountains of Beaujolois,
passing by Autun, Sec. till it is lost at Avalone. Tliis
branch is about 70 leagues long, but in general very nar-
row, not exceeding in most places much above a league ;
the fourth branch separates the basin of the Loire from
that of the Allicr, and forms the mountains of F'orcz ; the
fifth branch separates the basin of the Allier from that of
the Cher, and passes by Clermont to Montlucon ; the sixth
branch stretches towards Limoges ; the seventh stretches
from the Dordognc towards tlio Charent ; and the eiglith di-
vides the Dordogne from the Garonne. The lofty Cantal
and Mount D'Or seem to be part of the Cevennes, proceed-
ing from the main ridge in a north-westerly line. The
northern part of the chain is styled the Puy de Dome ; its
elevation above the level of the sea is about 5000 ftet ;
Cantal about 6200, and the Puy de Sausi, which is the high-
est point, about 6300. This enormous assemblage of rocks
covers an extent of 120 miles, and is cliiefly basaltic.

2. On the eastern border of France, the low and rounded
chain of the Vosges begins, on the frontiers of Champagne
and Franclie Compte, and running southwards, parallel to
the course of the Rhine, terminates in the Jura.

3. A chain of the Alps crosses the three departments of
the Maritime Alps, Lower Alps, and Upper Alps, and af-
terwards stretching to the north, divides F'rance from the
kingdom of Italy and Switzeiland ; perhaps the Vosges
may also be regarded as a branch of the Alps. In the de-
partment of the Drome, another branch of the Alps takes
its rise, which crosses the departments of the Ardeche,
Loire, Rhone, Saone and Loire, and Cote D'Or, as far as
Dijon.

4. The chain of the Pyrenees stretches on the south of
France from the port of Vendres, on the coast of the Medi-
terranean Sea, to the Atlantic Ocean on the coast of Spain.
Its greatest breadth is 40 leagues ; its highest summit 1 75 1
toises above the level of the sea; the length about 212
miles. Mont Perdu is the highest elevation of the Pyre-
nees ; Mont Can'gou is the chief of the Eastern Pyrenees ;
the hill is of difficult ascent; it is 1440 toises above the
Mediterranean; the summit of it is covered with loose
fragments, the ruins apparently of a ruck once higher.
The high cliffs of Canigou arc coir.posed of gneiss. The
Pyrenean chain appears at a distance like a shaggy ridge,
presenting the segment of a circle fronting France, and de-

scending at each extremity till it disappears in the Ocean
and the Mediterranean. To the south and west they pre-
sent only dreadful sterility, while on the north and east the
descent is more gradual, and affords frcr|uent woods and
pasture : near the summit of Moimt Perdu is a considera-
ble lake, moi'e than 9000 feet above the level of the sea,
which throws its waters into Spain.

Numerous rivers spread like veins through the whole of
I'rance, diffusing beauty and fertility as they pass. Of
those the greatest number take their rise in the central
ridge, and discharge their waters into the Bay of Biscay.

I. The Seine rises in Burgundy, not far from Dijon; it
afterwards runs through Champagne, and waters Troyes,
where it formerly began to be navigable ; but now it does
not carry boats till it comes to Mcrz : at Montcreau it is
joined by the river Yonne ; afterwards it crosses the isle of
France, where it waters Melon, Corbeil, and Paris; before,
however, it reaches the capital, it is considerably augment-
ed by the Marne, and six leagues beyond Paris it receives
the Oise. The principal place by which it Hows, after it
leaves Paris, is Rouen : it empties itself, by a large mouth,
into the sea at Havre de Grace. This river carries, near
Paris, heavier vessels than any other river in Europe, in
proportion to the length of its course and the breadth of its
channel. The whole length of its course is about 250 miles.
The valley of the Seine, above Rouen, is equal in point of
breadth, beauty, and fertility, to most of the river valleys
in Europe. In some places it has worn its channel through
about 50 strata of chalk.

II. The Loire rises in Languedoc: its course is first to
the south, tlicn to the west, and then to the north : it after-
wards turns to the north-west, near Semur, where it re-
ceives some small streams from Burgundy, which province
it divides from the Bourbonnois : it nest enters Nivernois,
where it washes Nevers, and receives the Allier; thence
running along the province of Berry, which it divides from
Orleannois, it waters the city of Orleans; here it turns to
the south-west, and passing Blois, Amboise and Tours, re-
ceives the Cher, the Indre, and afterwards the Vienne. It
next runs by Saumur, and shortly afterwards is augmented
by the waters of the Sarthe, which comes from Angers:
leaving Anjou, it enters Brittany, washes Nantes, and wi-
dening its channel, in which are several islands, it falls into
the sea between Croisic and Bourgncuf. Its course is es-
timated at 430 miles ; and it is navigable to the distance of
80 or 90 miles from its source. I'rom Angers to Nantes
it is generally considered as one of the finest rivers in the
world; the breadth of the stream; the islands of woods ;
the boldness, culture, and richness of its banks, all conspire,
(in the opinion of Mr Young,) to render that part of its
course eminently beautiful ; but, during the rest of its course,
its character changes, and it loses all its beauty. The bene-
fits which it renders to commerce and industry are incal-
culable; hence it is bordered by rich and populous cities,
and its banks announce fertility and abundance ; but the
quantity of loose sand which it carries down, renders its
course uncertain and deceptive, especially from Orleans to
the sea. To prevent the dangers arising from shoals, which
shift with the frequent variations of the current, watermen
are constantly employed in placing little branches of wil-
lows on these shoals, and in preceding large barges, which
are commonly united to each other in numbers more or
less considerable ; a little boat always attends them, with a
pilot to lay down the buoys. To confine this river to its
bed, a large dyke has been constructed on both its banks,
from Blois to Angers, which immense work is called lea
levees, or the causeways ; its origin is traced back to the
time of Charlemagne, and from that period care has bcea

.)90

FRANCE.

taken to keep il isi repair. The height of these causeways
is 25 feet, ami their brcatUh 40 ; tlie middle is paved or
gravelled, and the sides are protected by parapets of earth.

III. The Garonne rises in the valley of Adan, in Catalo-
nia, between Valentine and St Gaudcns; where its course
changes from the north-west to the north-cast, it receives
the Ger ; it receives several other small streams before it
comes to Toulouse, at which place it again turns to the
north-west ; it afterwards forms an island, and receives the
Sarebel Grenada. On its junction with the Tarn, it changes
its course to the west. Several other streams fall into it,
but none of any considerable note, before it arrives at Bour-
deaux. Below this city it forms several islands, and re-
ceives the Dordogne, which rises in the mountains of Au-
vergne ; after their junction, both lose their names, and are
called together the Gironde. The Gironde enters the sea
near the town of Cordovan, by two channels; the whole
course of this river is about 250 miles. The shoals in it,
between its mouth and Bourdeaux, are innumerable, and of
so dangerous a nature, that few ships that get on them are
ever able to get off; the bottom being a soft mud, and san-
dy, they make a bed for themselves, and in a tide's time are
swallowed up. The Garonne begins to be navigable about
Toulouse; from whence to Bourdeaux it carries the lar-
gest boats. The tide flows up nearly 30 leagues from the
mouth of the river, and it is said that when it is flowing in,
there appear two different levels on the surface ; that which
is towards the sea being considerably higher than that
which is towards the source of the river.

IV. The great river of the south of France is the Rlione.
It springs from the glacier of Furca, near the mountains
of Grimsel in Switzerland. After issuing from the lake
of Geneva, it takes a western course till it reaches Lyons,
where it is joined by the Saone, which forces the Rhone
into its own direction. Below Lyons it is joined by several
rivers, the principal of which are the Isere and the Durance.
Pursuing its course to the south, according to the direction
which it received from the junction with the Saone, it dis-
embogues itself into the Mediterranean by two principal
channels, the one on the west, the other on the east, which
form a small island called Banduff. Only very small ves-
sels can enter this river by the Avest channel ; the other en-
trance is the deepest, and by this the tartans, and other ves-
sels which go to Aries, enter the Rhone. In several places
this river seems to have changed its course. It divides
itself into two branches just above Avignon, which unite
again a little below it, forming a pretty considerable island.
It appears from inany old records and charters, that the
branch which at present runs without the walls of Avig-
non, once had its channel where is now the centre of the
town ; and, by the same evidence, it is proved, that seve-
ral centuries ago, there was no water at the foot of the
heights on wliich the town of Villeneuve stands, where now
runs the principal branch of the Rhone; and, by examin-
ing the country on the right bank of this branch of the
river, where there is a valley, it was found that the soil of
this valley is very similar to that which now forms the
bed of the Rhone, and that it has the same level. It is
also a well-known fact, that the river had only been kept
from making its way into its former channel by means
of very strong dykes ; and on a ridge of rocks that bor-
der part of the valley, a number of large iron rings have
been found fixed, such as might be supposed to have been
placed there for the purpose of fastening boats. The en-
tire course of the Riione is about 400 miles. From Lyons
to Avignon is about 140 miles by the river, and in nearly
the whole ofthis course the banks of the Rhone are extreme-
ly picturesque, winding almost entirely among rocks and
mountains, which present perpetual pictures to the eye.

Between Lyons and Vienne, the scenery is particularly de-
lightful: the air of this climate is balmy ; the mountain sce-
nery exhilirating; the Rhone clear, rapid, and majestic;
rocks, woods, vineyards ; chateaux on commanding emi-
nences ; cottages embosomed in trees, retiring from the
view; the busy traffic of the river, and prosperous villages
on its banks. The scenery of the Ciaroniie from Toulouse
to Bourdeaux, has sometimes been compared with that
which the Rhone exhibits from Lyons to Avignon ; but,
though both striking, their features arc of a very different
character; those of the Rhone have been just described.
The Garonne rolls through extensive plains, the luxuriant
fertility of which cannot be exceeded ; but there is little
that is picturesc|uc, — nothing that is sublime. The Saone,
though it loses its name in tiie Rhone, deserves a short no-
tice. It rises in Mount Vosges, and, as has been already
mentioned, joins the Rhone at Lyons. The confluence of
these two rivers is now about half a league below this city.
It was formerly under its very walls; and the space which
lies between the town and its present junction was an island
called Mogniat. A plan has been formed, and partly exe-
cuted, for enlarging the city, by filling up llic bed of the
river between the island and the mainland. It is scarcely
possible to conceive a greater contrast than what is present-
ed by the two rivers, the Rhone and the Saone ; the former
runs with wonderful rapidity, owing to the great fall which
it constantly has towards the sea ; the latter is so extremely
trant[uil, that it is difficult to say which way the current
sets. This character is preserved even at their very junc-
tion ; and it is said, that a distinct line of demarcation may
be observed between them, which slopes gradually off, till
the character of the tranquil Saone is wholly lost, and that
of the impetuous Rhone alone remains. Of the other tri-
butary streams of the Rhone, we shall notice only the Isere,
and the Durance. The former has its rise in the mountains
of Savoy, and passes through the town of Grenoble. From
its rising in a mountainous country, it is subject to violent
inundations, and can only be crossed near Valence by a fer-
ry boat of a peculiar construction. The Durance also rises
in the mountain Genevre, on the borders of Savoy, and is
full of banks and shoals, having no certain or fixed channel.
Many plans have been formed at different times to render
it navigable, but they have hitherto all proved abortive.

France is almost entirely destitute of lakes. There are
indeed a few in Provence and Upper Languedoc, but they
are of little depth, and spread over a considerable surface
of ground, and by no means either pleasing or picturesque
in their appearance. Some of them in Upper Languedoc
have been drained, and applied advantageously to the pur-
poses of agriculture. On the coast of these two provinces,
there are, however, a great number of inlets of the sea,
which the French call etangs. They have a communica-
tion with the sea through a narrow channel, by which they
are supplied with their waters, which are consequently salt.
From the size of some of them, it might be supposed, that
they were capable of being converted into harbours ; but
though the waters cover a great extent of ground, they are
of no depth, and incapable of being navigated, except by
fishing boats. The principal etang on the coast of Langue-
doc, is the Etang de Thou ; on the coast of Provence, the
Etang de Berre. The latter is about twenty miles long
and sixteen broad, and communicates with the Mediterra-
nean Sea by a narrow channel, in which are three islands.

The Artesian wells may be noticed in this place. The
name is derived from the province of Artois, where the
mode appears to have been originally followed; they are
now by no means uncommon in the north of France. The
mode consists in boring, and then driving a wooden pipe
into the cavity. Through this pipe the borer is made to

FRANCE.

391

uct, and increase the depth. Another pipe is tlien driven
in, so as to sink the first still lower. By a continuation of
this process, the length of pipe is carried to a very great
depth if necessary, and water is conducted from the lower
springs to the surface.

Respecting the sea coast of France, we must content
ourselves with a few desultory and unconnected notices.
In thirty leagues of coast, Languedoc has not one good har-
bour, whereas Provence abounds in them. This seems to
arise from the sand, and other accretions, which the;Rhone
brings down, being driven to the westward on the side of
Languedoc ; and this country being every where flat to-
wards the sea, tliese accumulations elevate the shore, and
render the coast extremely shelving, and full of shoals.
The coast of Provence, on the contrary, is for the most part
steep and rocky, and besides, inclines gradually to the
southward, from the mouths of the Rhone to near Toulon.
The flat marshy country on the coast of the departments
of La Charente and La Vendee, appears evidently to have
been once submerged by the sea. This is particularly
striking in one part, where a vast marshy plain is bounded
to the east by a range of cliffs, which appear exactly like
cliff's on the sea siiore ; and to the west by the sea itself,
with the islands of Riie, Oleron, and Aix, constantly in sight.
In the department of Finisterre, the drift sand is very dan-
gerous, especially during the prevalence of north north-
west winds. Cultivated fields, and whole villages with
their inhabitants, have been overwhelmed by it in one night.
The states of Brittany maintained, at a considerable ex-
pence, a high dyke, planted with broom, and 600 toises in
length, at tlie foot of which the sand accumulates ; but this
dyke is frequently broken down. From the side of Lesne-
ven, in particular, a dreadful sand hill threatens destruction
to the commune of St Pol.

The principal canals in France, are that of Languedoc,
which unites the Mediterrranean and the Atlantic ; that of
Burgundy, which joins the Loire to the Saone ; those of
Briare and Orleans, which unite the Loire to the Seine ;
and that of Calais, which communicates with the canals of
the Netlierlands. Referring to the article Inland Navi-
oATioN for a more particular description of these canals,
we shall here confine ourselves to a cursory notice of the
most celebrated.

I. It is supposed, that tlie Romans had a design to join
the Mediterranean and the Atlantic nearly at the same
place where the canal of Languedoc is formed. It was se-
veral times thought of during the reigns of Charlemagne
and Francis I. In the year 1598, under Henry IV. this
plan was again examined, and found to be practicable. Car-
dinal Richelieu was determined to have it executed, but
was prevented by more important affairs. At length Louis
XIV. appointed commissioners, in 1664, to examine more
narrowly the practicability of this undertaking : and in their
report, the director of the king's revenue in Languedoc,
M. Ricquet, undertook the execution ; but it is said, ac-
cording to some papers on the subject belonging to An-
dreossi, an able mathematician, the great work was begun
in 1666, and completed in 1680. Narouse is the highest
place between the two seas. Here a basin 1200 feet long
.and 900 broad was made, which has at all times seven feet
water, which is conveyed by means of a sluice towards the
ocean, and by means of another towards the Mediterranean
Sea. In order that this basin may never be dry, another is
made 7200 feet long, 3000 broad, and 60 deep, two sides of
which are formed by two mountains, and the third by a
large and strong mole, through which there runs an aque-
duct, that carries the water to the other basin. Great dif-
ficulties arose in the execution of this work, in consequence
of the unevenness of the ground, and the mountains, rivers,

and brooks. The unevenness was remedied fjy means of
sluices, of which there are 15 towards the ocean, and 45
towards tlie Mediterranean. The mountains were dug
through. The most considerable of them was Mount Mal-
pas, which was dug through the space of 720 feet. The
difficulties arising from rivers and brooks, were obviated
by means of bridges and aqueducts. It is 150 miles in
length, and has 26 falls. The most considerable is that
near Bezieres. This is at the end of a reach 30 miles in
length, and the tall is so great as to require eight gates. It
is 60 feet wide, and o deep : 12,000 men worked at it. The
expence was 1,600,000^., und it costs above 12,000/. a year
to keep it in order. The canal falls into the Garonne, about
half a mile below Toulouse ; but tlie navigation of the river
is so indifferent till its junction with the Tarn, being full of
shoals and sand banks, that the boats upon it cannot carry
any depth of lading, and it often requires many of them to
take the lading of one boat from the canal. It is therefore
projected to carry the canal on to the Tarn, by which means
the navigation between Bourdeaux and Toulouse would be
greatly facilitated. The canal of Brien, so called from the
Archbishop of Toulouse, afterwards prime minister and
cardinal, was planned and executed, in order to join the
Garonne at Toulouse with the canal of Languedoc. The
necessity of such a junction arises from the navigation of
the; river in the Tarn being absolutely impeded by the
weirs, which are made across it for the purpose of corn
mills. It passes arched under the quay to the river, and
one sluice levels the water with that of the Languedoc ca-
nal. It is broad enough for several barges to pass abreast;
but this canal is seldom used, and Mr Young remarks, that
while the canal of Languedoc is alive with commerce, that
of Brien is a desert.

II. The canal of Briare takes its name from a small city
situated on the river Loire. It was made in order to have
a communication between this i iver and tlie Seine, by means
of the river Loing ; for which purpose tliey have been obli-
ged to make the water go over hills, by means of dams and
sluices. This canal was begun in the time of Henry IV.
and finished under his son Louis XIII. It begins from the
Loire at Briare, and passing by Montargis and Chatillon,
falls into the Loing at Cepoi. Formerly the duties paid by
boats amounted to very great sums annually ; but they have
decreased considerably since the canal of Orleans was
made. By means of the canal of Briare, a communication
has been opened between Paris and tlie sea, and even be-
tween that metropolis and all the iidand provinces that are
situated on the Loire, or wlierc there are other rivers that
fall into this.

III. The canal of Orleans begins at about two leagues
distance from that city, at a place called Portmorant, and
after running through the forest of Orleans, and the adjoin-
ing plain, in a course of about 18 leagues, the water being
supported by several dams or sluices, it runs into the river
Loing, near the place where the canal of Briare falls into it.
This canal was begun in 1682, and finished in 1692, by the
care of Philip Duke of Orleans, the regent's father. Dur-
ing the administration of the Archbiship of Toulouse, who
succeeded Calonne, the canal of Picardy was projected. It
begins from the Seine, a little below Paris. In passing
from St Quintin to Cambray, in the line of the canal, the
country rises so much, that it was necessary to carry it in
a tunnel under ground for a considerable depth, even under
many vales as well as hills. Near Belle Angloise, it is 10
French feet wide, and 12 high, hewn entirely out of the
chalk rock, imbedded in which there are many flints. There
is no masonry. The whole distance under ground, if com-
pleted, will be 7020 toises, or about 9 miks : the total esti-
mate was nearly four millions of livres.

392

FRANCE.

Oilier canals were projcr.lcd and begun cKiring the Re-
volution; the most remui-kablo of whicli was, a scries of
canals to unite the five great rivers, the Rhine, Rhone, Ga-
ronne, the Seine, and the Loire. The two former were to
be united by a canal from the Rhine at Bjsle to the lake of
Geneva, passing through the lake of Ncuichatel. Another
canal from Beaucaire to the Etang de Thau, where the ca-
nal of Langucdoc empties itself, was to unite both (he above
rivers to the Garonne ; and, lastly, by the restoration of a
canal formerly made from the Rhone near Lyons, to the
l,oire at Roanne, all these rivers were to be united ; the
Seine already communicating with the Loire by means of
the canals of Briare and Orleans. It was also proposed to
restore a canal which was made in the time of Caius Ma-
rias, to supply the want of a safe and commodious naviga-
tion at the mouths of the Rhone. Some remains of this ca-
nal arc still in existence, and are known by the name of the
J'^osse Marine. This canal of Marius was cut from the
port of Uourc, near the Etang dc IJerre at Aries ; and
through this his vessels could pass with security into the
Rhone. The restoration of this canal would be a great be-
nefit to the town of Aries; but these projected canals, though
frequently they served to lill up the annual cxfiosf of the
French government, were cither not begun, or not carried
on to their accomplishment.

The soil of France varies much in different parts of the
kingdom ; but it may be remarked, that there is scarcely
any kind of soil in it, which in luigland could be called a
clay soil. The soils may be classed as follows :

L Fat loam, of diiVerent degrees of tenacity. The northern
district of this soil extends over the provinces of Flanders,
Artois, Picardy, Normandy, and the Isle of France. On the
coast, it may be said to extend from Dunkirk to Carentum
in Normandy. From thence to Coutances, the land is chief-
ly poor and stony, and continues so, though with some va-
riations, to Brest. In a line a little to the south of the
coast before Caen, the first considerable change of soil
from Calais is seen. In Normandy, on the side of Alenjon,
rich loams on a calcareous bottom are met with. From Dun-
kirk to Nemours is not less than 180 miles in a right line ;
from Soissons to Carentan is another right line of about
200 miles ; from Eu, on the coast of Normandy, to Char-
tres, is 100 miles. The breadth of this rich district in
some places, especially about Caen, &c. is not considera-
ble, yet the whole will be found to contain not a trifling
proportion of the kingdom. The fertile plains of Flanders
and of Artois, are perhaps the richest parts of this valua-
ble soil, which here consists of deep friable mould, rather
inclining to clay than sand, on a calcareous bottom, bear-
ing evident marks of having once been covered by the sea.
From Paris to near Cambray, by the road of Soissons, this
loam is more sandy, but equally valuable and fertile. About
Meaux, there is as fine soil as can possibly exist. It con-
sists of an almost impalpable powtler, and of admirable
texture and friability. In some places it is 18 feet deep,
resting on a stratum of white marl. The line from Paris
through Picardy is inferior; but all the arable part of Nor-
mandy, which lies within the limits above described, is a
rich, friable, sandy loam, in some places of a reddish colour,
and very deep. The calcareous loams are of much greater
extent than tlie loams which have been described. To the
east, they stretch across Champagne. From Metz to
Nancy, all is calcareous, but not chalk. In the southern
parts of Alsace, limestone land abounds. Immense dis-
tricts of Dauphiny and Provence consist of the same kind
of soil. Indeed, the chalk district extends east to about
St IMenehould, and sotith to Nemours and Montargis, or
tven farther, for it reaches Auxerrc in another direction.
There is also much calcareous loam in Angoumois, Poitou,

and through Tourralne to the Loire. Most of the course
of this river is calcareous. The chalk district, therefore,
may be regarded as strclcliing not li:ss than 200 miles east
and west, and about as much, but more irregularly, north
and south. The next considerable district of fertile soil,
is the plain of the Garonne. Tluough all this plain, wher-
ever the soil is found excellent, it consists usually of a
deep, mellow, friable, sandy loam, sufficiently (noist, and
in many places calcareous. The plain of the Garonne is
entered about Creissensac, in passing to the south from
the Limosin. Its fertility increases all the way to Tou-
louse, where it is uncommordy rich. Its richness, how-
ever, diminishes as we approach the Pyrenees. The
breadth of thi^ plain is every where inconsiderable. Ano-
ther tract of rich soil is found in the vale, which stretches
from Narbonne to Bezieres, Monlpellier, and Nismes; but
its fertility is inferior to those that have been previously
described. The soil of the Lower Poitou resembles that
of the richest parts of the Lincolnshire fens, and is indeed
of the same nature, being for the most part marshy land
drained, or gained from the sea. To the south of the
Loire, in the direction of Bourgneuf, there is a tract of
rich loam. Alsace, in respect to soil, resembles Flanders,
but it is inferior to it. The whole fertile part of the nar-
row plain of Alsace, hardly presents a surface of more
than lOuO square miles. The flat, and chiefly calcareous
vale of Auvergne, which commences at Riom, is a tract of
great fertility. The whole surface is a real marl, but mix-
ed with such a proportion of soil as to be most valuable
and productive. Tne French naturalists who have ex-
amined it, assert the depth to be 20 feet of beds of earth,
formed of the ruins of what they style the primitive and
volcanized mountains. The best part of this vale reaches
no farther than from Riom to Vaires, scarcely more than
20 miles. Mr Young calculates, that the whole of the
fertile districts of France, which we have just described,
amounts to about 23 millions of English acres.

II. The district of heath is chiefly in the provinces of
Brittany, Anjou, parts of Normandy, and Guienne, and
Gascony. The five departments into which Brittany is
dividetl, are reckoned to contain 1609 French square miles;
the cultivated land amounts, according to some calcula-
tions, to less than one-third, and the heaths to 3,006,000
acres ; according to other calculations, two-fifths of the
whole province are uncultivated ; and some authors assert,
that of 39 pai'ts 24 are la7ide, which amounts to three-
fiftlis. Some of the heaths are so extensive, that a house
is scarcely seen in ten leagues. The soil of the best part
of the heaths in Brittany, is commonly gravel, or gravelly
sand on a gravelly bottom, of a very inferior and barren
nature. In many places it rests on sandstone rock : none
of it is calcareous. Anjou and Maine are equally noted for
the immensity of their heaths, which are reported to ex-
tend 60 leagues in one place. Tne soil of these heaths is,
however, in some parts tolerably good, and might be ren-
dered useful by proper skill and labour ; consisting of
gravel, sand, or stone, generally a loamy sand or gravel.
The Landfs, as they are emphatically called, lie west from
Bazadois and Contiomois to the sea coast, between the
country of Labour on the south, Guienne on the north, and_
the ocean on the west. They are divided into the greater
Landes between Bourdeaux and Bayonne, and the lesser
between Bazas and Montmarsan. They are sandy tracts,
covered with pine trees, cut regularly for resin, broken and
enlivened however with cultivated spots for a league or
two. When the Moors were expelled from Spain, they
applied to the court of France to be allowed to settle on,
and cultivate these lands ; but permission was not granted
them. They are said to contain not less than 300 square

FRANCE.

393

leagues, or 1,'1G8,181 English acres, occupyinjy a large
portion of Gascony. Ttiougli the soil of these Landcs is
among the poorest in France, it is not utterly incapable of
cultivation, and even the pines with which it is covered
yickl from 15s. to 20s. an acre.

III. The district of chalk, as distinguished from the
calcareous loams already noticed, is cliicfly in the pro-
vinces of Cliampagne, Sologne, Touraine, Poitou, Sain-
tonge, and Angoumois. The chalk provinces contain 15
millions of acres. The soil of Champagne in general is
thin and poor. The southern part, as from Chalons to
Troyes, has from its poverty acquired the name of fioa-
itleux, or lousy. Sologne is one of the poorest and most
unimproved provinces in the kingdom. It is a flat, con-
sisting of a poor sand, or gravel, lying every where on a
bottom of clay or marl, so very retentive of water, that
every ditcli and hole is full of it, except in the dryest sea-
sons. Touraine is better. It contains some considerable
districts, especially on the south of the Loire, in which
good mixed sandy and gravelly loams rest on a calcareous
bottom. Considerable tracts in the northern parts of the
province, however, are of a very inferior soil, not better
than the predominating soil of Anjou and Maine. Poitou
consists of two divisions, the upper and the lower, the
latter of which has already been mentioned as resembling
the fens of Lincolnshire. The upper division is generally
a thin loam, on an imperfect quarry bottom, — a very in-
ferior stone brash. A great part of Angoumois is a thin
and poor chalk.

IV. The district of gravel is chiefly in the Bourbonnois
and Nivernois. The gravel in the latter is of little value,
three-fourths of the province being covered with heath,
broom, or wood ; but notwithstanding the inferiority of the
soil, these provinces arc reckoned by Mr Young among
the most improveable in France. They form one vast
plain, through which the Loire and Allier pass. The bet-
ter parts of them consist of a sandy soil, and in some places
the sub-soil is calcareous. In a few spots, good friable
sandy loams are met with.

V. The district of stony soils is chiefly in Lorraine,
Burgundy, Franche Compte, &c. In Lorraine, there are
commons of immense extent, which scarcely yield any
thing. From St Menehould to the borders of Alsace, the
soil is entirely stony, but of various kinds. Most of them
are of the kind denominated stone- brash in England, " or
the broken triturated surface of imperfect quarries, mixed
by time, frost, and cultivation, with some loam and vege-
table mould;" much is calcareous. Districts of rich and
even deep friable loams occur in Lorraine, but they are
of inconsiderable extent. The soil of Burgundy varies
much. The best part of it lies in the line from Franche
Compte to the Bourbonnois by Dijon. Here sandy and
gravelly loams predominate ; but even in this part of it
there are spots of poor granite soil. The subdivision of
the province called Bresse, is a most miserable country.
The grounds alone on a white clay or marl, amounting it
is said to nearly 250,000 acres. The stony soil of Franche
Compte is in general good. From Besangon to Orechamp,
the country is rocky quite to the surface. The rocks are
calcareous. A reddish brown loam rests on the rock. In
the hilly parts, a red ferruginous loam, schistus, and
gravel, predominate. Part of Alsace consists of soil of
nearly the same character.

VI. The district of various loams, mixed with sand,
granite, gravel, stone, &c. is chiefly in the Limosin, La
Manche, Berry, &c. The loams of the two former are
friable, and sandy ; some on granite, and others on a cal-
careous sub- soil. Of the granite, there are two kinds ;

Vol. IX. Pakt. I.

one hard, and lull ol micaceous particles, tlie grain coarse,
with but little quartz, hardening in the air in masses, bin.
becoming a powder when reduced to small pieces. This
is very unfeitile, as neither wheat, vines, or chesnuts will
grow on it. The other sort is in horizontal strata, mixed
with great (luantities of spar. On it these plants thrive
well. This kind of granite and chesnuts appear together,
on entering Limosin ; but on the road to 'I'oulouse, where
there is about a league of Jiard granite, this tree disap
pears. Berry has a poor soil, though not so poor as tha'-
of Sologne. In some places it is sandy or gravelly ; iii
other places the loams are more tenacious, lying on quar-
ries of stone or lime.

VII. The provinces of Auvergne, Dauphiny, Provence,
the Lyonnois, Languedoc, and Rousillon, contain the moun-
tainous district. The mountains that surround the vale of
the Limagne of Auvergne are various. The white argil-
laceous stone in the hills, between Riom and Clermont, is
calcareous. The volcanic mountains (as they are deemed)
are more fertile than the others, except where they arc
composed of tufa, or cinders, which are so burnt as to be
good for nothing. The calcareous and clayey mountains
are good ; and the basaltic, when decomposed, form ex-
cellent clay. The base is commonly granite. Many con-
siderable mountains, in the tract from Le Puy to Mon-
telimart, are also what are deemed volcanic, and they are
also extremely fertile. Provence and Dauphiny, with the
exception of a few plains and valiies, are mountainous. Of
these, the former is the driest with respect to soil in the
kingdom. Rock and sandy gravels abound ; and the course
of the Durance is so ruined by sand and shingle, that, on
a moderate calculation, above 130,000 acres have been
destroyed. If Dauphiny were divided into three parts,
three-fourths of one part, it is calculated, would be cul-
tivated land ; more than three-fourths of another part
would be mountainous and uncultivated ; and half the
third part mountainous and in culture. The mountainous
districts of Dauphiny and Provence are generally cal-
careous. The whole coast of Provence is a poor stony
soil, with very few exceptions. The Lyonnois is moun-
tainous in many parts, the soil being poor, stony, and
rough, with much waste land. Seven-eighths of the pro-
vince of Languedoc are mountainous. The vale lands are
rich. Rousillon is in general calcareous. Much of it flat
and veiy stony, as well as dry and barren.

Mr Young observes, " that the proportion of poor land in
England to the total of the kingdom, is greatei than the
similar proportion in France; nor have they any where
such tracts of wretched blowing sand, as are to be met
with in Norfolk and Suffolk. Thin heaths, moors, and
wastes, not mountainous, which they term Landes, and
which are so frequent in Brittany, Anjou, Maine, Guienne,
and Gascony, are infinitely better than our northern moors;
and the mountains of Scotland and Wales cannot be com-
pared, in point of soil, with those of the Pyrenees, Au-
vergne, Dauphiny, Provence, and Languedoc." Accord-
ing to the same author, the following are the proportional
areas of the several divisions of the kingdom, classed ac-
cording to their respective soils:

Acres. jicres.

Rich district of the north-east, con-
taining the provinces of Flan-
ders, Artois, Picardy, Normandy,
the Isle of France, &c. . . . 18,179,590
Plain of the Garonne ..... 7,654,564

Plain of Alsace 637,880

Lower Poitouj Sec 1,913,641

Rich loam 28,335,675

3 D.

394

FRANCE.

.■Icres. Acres.

Tlic heath district of Brittany, An-

jou, and parts of Nonnandvi &c. 1 5,307,128

The heath district of Guienne and

Gascony 10,206,085

Heath 25,513,213

The mountainous district of Auvergne, Daii-

phiny, Provence, Langucdoc, &c 28,707,037

The chalky district of Champagne, Solognc,
Tourraine, Poitou, Saiiitonge, Angouniois,
&c 16,584,889

The district of gi«vel of the Bourbonnois and

Nivernois 3,827,282

The district of stony soils in Lorraine, Bur-
gundy, Fraiiclie Comple, &c 20,412,171

'I'hc district of various loams in the Limosin,

Berry, La Blanche, kc 8,292,444

Total 131,722,711

It is to be remarked, however, that this admeasurement
includes the uhole surface of the kingdom ; deductions
ought therefore to be made for roads and rivers, kc. Ac-
cording to ^L Neckar, there are 9000 leagues of voads in
France. On the supposition that tlieir average breadth is
10 toises, this will give for the whole area occupied by
roads, about 193,207 acres. A much larger space must
be allowed for rivers ; so that probably the number of
acres may be estimated at 131,000,0'JO, the proportional
areas of the different divisions of soil remaining the
same.

The climate of so extensive a kingdom as France must
be very various; but perhaps, on the whole, it is more fa-
vourable to the sustenance and comfort of human life, than
any other in Europe. The climate of the northern districts
is hotter, and at the same time more moist in summer, than
the counties in the south-west of England. In the depart-
ment of Finisterre, the sky is obscured by an almost con-
tinual mist. In Brest and Morlaix, it rains almost inces-
santly ; and the natives are said to be so habituated to damp-
ness and wet, that too dry seasons prove prejudicial to their
health. The heat in summer is never excessive, and the
cold likewise is between six and seven degrees less than in
Paris. The beautiful verdure of the rich pastures in Nor-
mandy sufficiently proves the humidity of the climate of
this province ; but, even at a distance from the coast, the
rains in the north of France are extremely heavy, and con-
tinue longer than they generally do in England. In the
vinter, heavy snows and severe frosts are experienced to
a greater degree than in the south of England ; and it is re-
marked there, whenever there is a long and sharp frost in
the north of Europe, it is felt much more severely in Paris
than in London.

The central division of France possesses a wonderfully
iine climate, especially the provinces of Tourraine and the
Limosin. In many years there is no snow, and frosts are
not frequent. There are no fogs and vapours, as in Bre-
tagne, nor the great humidity of Normandy ; and yet they
are equally free from the burning sun of the southern pro-
vinces. The air is light, pure, and elastic. The spring is
a continuance of such weather as is seen in England about
the middle of May. The harvest begins about the latter
end of June, but is sometimes so late as the middle of July.
The great heats are from the middle of July to the middle
of August. But the climate oKhe central provinces is not
free from its inconveniences : all the country south of the
Loire is subject to violent storms of rain and hail, the lat-
ter occasion ,lly beating down and destroying all the corn
and vintage on which it may fall. Frosts also sometimes

happen in the spring, even so late as the end of May and
beginning of June, so severe as to turn the leaves of the
walnut trees quite black, and to render it necessary to co-
ver the fig trees with straw. Autumnal frosts also not un«
frequently occur earlier in the central provinces of France
than they do in the south of England. On the 20th of Scp-
tembei' 1787, Mr Young says, there happened so smart a
cue on tlie south of the Loire, between Chamboit and Or-
leans, that the vines were hurt by it. The high country of
Auvergne is bleak and cold ; and all the district within
reach of the mountains of \'osges arc effected by the snow
that fiills upon them ; a circumstance which sometimes oc-
curs as late as the end of June.

In tiie south of France, particularly in Provence, a con-
tinuance of dry and hot weather maybe expected through-
out the months of June, July, and August, and a part of
perhaps the whole of September. The greatest heats sel-
dom occur till the I5th of July, nor after the 15ih of Sep-
tember. Harvest generally begins the 24th of June, and
ends the 15th of July : the middle of the vintage is about
the end of September. During the continuance of the hot
weather, or hs grandea c/ialeurs, as they arc called, scarcely
any persons who can avoid it think of quitting their houses
in the middle of the day. Duiing the end of Autumn and
the beginning of winter, violent rains frequently fall ; but,
in the intervals between the rains, October and November
may be regarded as the pleasantest months in the year. In
December, January, and February, the weather is generally
fine : but after February, the Vent de bize is very frequent.
This wind seems to pierce through the body, and dry up
all the humours. It is a strong north or north-east wind,
accompanied generally with a clear sky, but sometimes
with snow. It seldom lasts for more than three days at a
time. This wind blows with peculiar violence and bitter-
ness about Avignon : the winters there are sometimes ren-
dered by it most distressingly cold ; and the Rhone is co-
vered with ice sufficiently strong to support loaded carts,
and the olive trees sometimes perish to their roots. Some
parts of the coast of Provence, as about Toulon and Hieres,
are still milder than about Marseilles and Aix ; but the
northern and more mountainous parts of the province often
experience very severe weather ib the winter, and are as
cold as England, but with a much clearer and purer air.

The chief disadvantages of the climate of the south of
France are, the plague of insects, and the peculiar violence
of its storms, especially in the mountainous tracts. The
flies are excessively troublesome in the olive district of
France; they not only bite, sting, and hurt, but they buzz,
tease, and worry. Tlie mouth, eyes, ears, and nose, are
full of them ; they swarm on every thing eatable ; fruit, su-
gar, milk, every thing is attacked by them in such myriads,
that if they are not driven away incessantly by a person who
has nothing else to do, to eat a meal is impossible. Some-
times it is absolutely necessary to darken the room, in or-
der to keep it tolerably clear of them. In the stables, they
are obliged to cherish the spiders, that their webs may
catch the flies, who would otherwise be an actual torment
to the horses. In the night, the gnats are very trouble-
some ; and, besides the torment of their bite, render sleep
extremely diflicult to be procured, by their constant and
loud noise. The author of the Essai sur la Miiicralogie
des Pyrenees describes a thunder storm near Bareges as
extremely impetuous and formidable ; the cataracts rush-
ing down the sides of the mountains, carrying ruin and de-
solation along with them ; those meadows, which a few
hours before were covered with verdure, now buried un-
der heaps of stones, or overwhelmed by masses of liquid
mud, and the sides of the mountains cut by deep ravines,
where the U-^ck of the smallest rivulet was not beforeto be

FKANCE.

i95

discovered. The hail storms in tlic snutli, and even in the
ccntinl provinces of Fiance, are not unlVccjiicntly most
dreadl'iil and ruinous in their conscnucnccs. About thirty
years ago, a violent storm of hail swept a track of desola-
tion in a Iielt across the vvliole kingdom, to the damage "f
several millions sterlint!; ; and no year ever passes without
whole parishes sud'crini; to a very considerable dei^rcc. In
the south of France, where the hail storms are tlie most
common and the most violent, it is calculated, that, on an
average, one tenth of the whole produce is damaged by
them. Young colts are sometimes so severely wounded
by the hail as to occasion their death ; and it has even been
asserted, that men have been known to be killed by the hail,
vhen they could not procure shelter.

The climate of Fiance naturally divides itself into four
zones, according to the vegetable produce which each af-
fords. The most northern of these divisions bears a consi-
derable resemblance, in its vegetable produce and in its
climate, to England : the second differs from the first
principally in exhibiting here and there a few vineyards :
in the third, fields of maize begin to make their appear-
ance ; and the fourth is distinguished fiom the preceding
by the intermixture of olives, mulberries with corn, vines,
and maize. The line of separation between vines and no
vines is at Coucy, ten miles to the north of Soissons ; at
Clermont in the Beauvoisis ; at Beaumont in Maine ; and
Herbignac, near Guerande in Brittany. The line of sepa-
ration between maize and no maize is first seen on the
western side of the kingdom, in going from the Angoumois
and entering Poitou, at Verac, near Ruffec : in crossing
Lorraine, it is met with between Nancy and Luneville. If
these lines between vines and no vines, and between maize
and r,o maize, be drawn on the map of France, it will be
found, that they proceed in an oblique line from the south-
west to the north-east, being parallel to each other. The
line which the vines forms is nearly unbroken ; but that
forn)ed by the maize in the central part of France, pro-
ceeds no farther north than the southern part of the Limo-
sin. The line of olives is also pretty nearly from south-
west to north, in the same oblique direction. In proceed-
ing to the southward from Lyons, they are first met with
at Montelimart ; and, in ]n'oceeding from Bezieres to the
Pyrenees, they are lost at Carcassone. Hence it appears,
that there is a considerable difference between the climate
of France in the eastern and western parts ; the eastern
side of the kingdom indicating, by its productions, 2} de-
grees of latitude of more heat than the western.

Having made these general remarks on the climate of
the different parts of France, we shall next proceed to lay
before our readers an abstract of the most careful meteoro-
logical observations, as they respect the thermometer,
barometer, winds and rain.

1. The annual heat of London and Paris is nearly the
same; but, from the beginning of April to the end of Oc-
tober, the heat is greater at Paris than at London. If the
annual temperature of London be represented by 1000, the
average degree of cold in January by 1000, and the average
degree of heat in July by 1000, the annual temperature of
Paris may be represented by 1028 ; the average degree of
cold of Paris in January by 1040; and of heat in July by
1037. The annual temperature of Bourdeaux will be re-
presented by 1090 ; the average degree of cold in January
by 925 ; and the average degree of heat in July by 1139.
The annual temperature of Montpellier will be represent-
ed by 1170; the average degree of cold in January by
850 ; and the average degree of heat in July by 11 96.

In tl)c centre of France, the greatest heat averages 2"
degrees of Reaumur's thermometer, and the greatest cold
7 degrees: in the north of France, the greatest heat is 23'
2', and the least 0° 6': in the cast of Franco, the greatest
heat is 2l° 3', the least 9° 5' : in the west of France, the
greatest heat is 24°, and the least 6°. In the soMth-e;isf,
at Montpellier, the greatest heat is 28" 1', the least 3" "'.
At Marseilles, the meteorological observations of nine sn<:-
ccssive years gave an average of 25° 3' for the greatest
heat, and 3° 1' for the least.

II. In the neighbourhood of Paris, the barometer ncvoi
continues twenty tour hours without changing. The ba-
rometer rises and falls sooner in the western districts than
in the eastern. M. Burckhardt, after 15,000 barometrical
observations, in order to calculate the influence of the
winds on the barometer in France, found that the south
wind gave, for a mean height, 27 inches 11.3 lines, while
an east wind raised the mercury to 28 inches 1.9 line. He
also found, that the height of the barometer on the Medi-
terranean shores of France was 28 inches 2.2 lines, while
its height on the Atlantic shores was 28 inches 2.8 liiu-s.

In the centre of France, the greatest height of the mer-
cury in the barometer, on an average of several years, is
28 inches 5.7 lines, its least height 27 inches 3.3 lines : i.i
the north of France, the greatest height is 27 inches 10.10
lines, the least 25 inches 8.5 lines : in the west, the average
height of the mercury in the barometer is 28 inches 3 lines:
in the north-east, at Montpellier, the greatest height is 2S
inches 5.3 lines, the least 27 inches 5.5 lines. At Marseilles,
the greatest height of mercury in the barometer is 28 in-
ches 7.2 lines, the least 27 inches 3.7 lines.
■ III. It appears from the result of observations made by
M. Cotte, at 86 different places in France, that along the
whole south coast of that kingdom, the wind blows most
frequently from the north, north-west, and north-east: on
the west coast, from the west, south-west, and north-west;
and on the north coast, from the south-west. In the inte-
rior parts of France, the south-west wind blows most fre-
quently in 18 places; the west wind in 14 ; the north in
13 ; the south in 6 ; the north-east in 4 ; the south-east in
2 ; the east and north-west, each of them, in one. About
Dunkirk, according to the same author, the prevailing
winds are the south-west. As, however, the result of
other observations differ from those given by M. Cotte, we
shall subjoin them.

According to these observations, in the centre of France,
the prevailing winds are the south-west and north-east ;
in the northern districts the south-east wind is most com-
mon ; in the eastern districts the north and south-west
winds ; in the west of France the north-east is the prevail-
ing wind ; in the south-east at Montpellier, the north and
north-east are the prevailing winds ; and at Marseilles the
south-east and north-west.

IV. The mean quantity of rain that falls at Paris is 22
inches ; the evaporation is generally greater than the rain ;
the mean evaporation being 33 inches. In the centre of
France, the average quantity of rain is rather more than 20
inches ; the number of rainy days in the course of the
year 164. In the north of France there are 126 rainy
days; in the east 145 ; in the west 150 rainy days ; in the
south-east, at Montpellier, there are 74 rainy days, and the
quantity of rain is upwards of 27 inches — a proof of the
violence of the rain when it does fall. At Marseilles, the
quantity of rain is rather more than 21 inches, and the num-
ber of rainy days 57.

D d 2

396

I'll ANC E.

CHAP. III.

Mitural History — Mineralogical Geograjilty — Baain of
the Siinc — Dasallic district of Auvergne — Geology of the
Pyrenees — Strata in different fuirls of France — Miscella-
neous Mineralogical rcjnarks — Mines of Gold, Silver, Co/i-
f!cr, Iron, isfc. — Coal Strata and Mines — Jet, l^c — Salt
S/irings of Salins, istc. — Mineral Waters — A'ulural Curiosi-
li,cs— ^Botany of France — Zoology.

As cur limits will not permit us to enter minutely and
fully into the natural history of France, we siiall content
ourselves with noticing, in the first place, the most impor-
tant and curious features of its mineralogy and geology ;
subjoining to this notice, an economical account of the prin-
cipal mines, and a brief sketch of the mineral waters and
natural curiosities most deserving of attention : in the
second place, the Botany of France : and lastly, the most
interesting parts of its Zoology.

I. With respect to the mineralogy ■awA geologij of France.
Modern French geographers, in a branch of that science,
to which they have properly given the epithet /;/(i/s/ca/, have
divided the kingdom into what they call basins ; that is to
say, into several great plains, through which the principal
rivers flow, and which are formed of several ridges of
mountains, either original, that is of granite, or secondary,
of calcareous and other materials. Of these basins, the
chief are, 1st, The, basin of the Loire, and all the rivers
that fall into it. 2d, of the Seine and its branches. 3d, Of
the Garonne. 4th, Of the Rhone and Saone. There are
likewise some smaller ones, but of much less account.

As the basin of the Seine, or of Paris as it is frequently
called, is the most interesting to the geologist, and has
moreover been very carefully and scientifically illustrated
by the labours of Messrs Cuvipr and Brogniart, in their
Memoir on the Mineralogical Geography of the environs
of Paris ; of M. Lamanon, in his memoir on the gympsums
and their fossil bones ; of M. Desmarets, in his description
of Montinartre, and by other authors, we shall confine our
account to this basin.

The basin of the Seine is separated for a long space from
that of the Loire, by an extensive high plain, the greater
part of which bears the name of Beauce. This plain is
hounded towards the north-west by a higher and more bro-
ken district, from which the rivers Eure, Aure, Orne,
Maienne, Sarte, &c. arise. On all other sides, the plain of
Beauce overlooks every surrounding district. The slope
from it, towards the Seine, is divided into two inclinations,
one of which, on the west, looks towards the Eure, and the
other, on the east, looks towards the Seine. These two in-
cliived plains, however, are not straight, but in all directions
unequal and rugged, the slopes are generally very abrupt,
and all the ravines, valleys, and wells dug in the high parts,
shew that one prodigious mass of fine sand covers the
whole surface, passing equally over all the other soils, or
inferior platforms, which this great plain overlooks. The
edge of this platform, towards the Seine, forms the natural
limit of the basin of Paris, on this side. From below the
two extremities of this platform, issue two portions of a
platform of chalk, which extends in every direction to a
great distance, forming the whole of Higher Normandy,
Picardy, and Champagne. In some parts of the two latter
provinces, the chalk is covered with sandy platforms, simi-
lar to that of Beauce.

Hence it appears that the materials which compose the
basin of Paris have been deposited in a vast gulf, the bot-
tom of which is chalk. This chalk lies in horizontal beds,
Avith flints, and is wholly, or in part, covered by cert&in

argillaceous, siliceous, calcareous, gypseous, and alluvial
strata. The basin, measuring directly from Epernay to
Gisars, nearly from east to west, is 87 English miles in
length, and from Nemours to the neighbourhood of Noyon,
nearly south and north, it is 70 miles broad. On the south-
west, from near Nemours to the mouth of the rivulet call-
ed the Maulde, a direct distance of about 45 miles, it is
limited by a covering stratum of Beauce sand, and in all
its remaining sides by tlie naked chalk stratum. The chalk
is undoubtedly the most ancient, and the sandy platform the
most recent of the formations in this basin. Between them
there are two great strata; the first, lime, either siliceous,
containing no shells, or lime w ith coarse shells ; the second,
which is named by the Fiench geologists gy/iso-marley, is
not generally spread, but merely scattered in spots, very
difierent from one another in thickness and in their compo-
nent parts. These two intermediate soils or strata, as well
as the tv,o extreme strata of chalk and sand, and all the
vacuities which they have left, are partly filled by a fifth
sort of soil, mixed also with marl and silex, which may be
called fresh -water soil, because it abounds in fresh water
soils only.

If each of these large strata, however, are subdivided,
there will appear 10 distinct kinds of strata in the basin of
the Seine. Of these we shall give a short sketch, begin-
ning with the lowest.

1. Chalk, either in distinct beds and with few flints, or
with many layers and nodules of flint, constitutes the first
formation. In it are found 50 species of fossil remains.

2. The second formation consists of plastic clay; white,
grey, slate-grey, and red potter's clay, from four inches to
52 feet or more in thickness. This contains no fossils, but
in some parts fragments of bituminous wood.

3. The third formation consists of sand, coarse, red, or
bluish grey, without fossils ; — of coarse limestone in beds,
alternating with their marls and clay ; the lower beds are
sandy, containing greenish earth, and though hard, decom-
pose quickly on exposure ; they contain extraneous fossils
in good preservation, amounting to more than 600 species;
— of soft greenish earth, exhibiting on its lower surface
brown marks of leaves, and stalks of vegetables ;— of grey
and yellowish strata, of different degrees of hardness, and
of building stone rocks ; these contain shells ; — of hard
earth, containing seams full of shells; — of hard calcareous
ruble marl, and soft calcareous marl beds, without fossils;
— of calcareous sand, sometimes agglutinated, and contain-
ing chert, quartz crystals, and variegated crystals, of car-
bonate of lime ; and of hard calcareous ruble marl, and
soft calcareous marl beds without fossils.

4. The fourth formation is still more various than the
third : it consists of two distinct parts, viz. the fresh water
formation, containing a mass of selenitous gypsum in thin
beds, with numerous inarl beds, without organised fossils;
next marl strata; then a second mass of gypsum beds, with
thin marl beds, containing fossil fish ; then marl strata
again, and above them another mass composed of three
parts, with marl strata intervening between each ; three
parts are siliceous gypsum, columnar gypsum, and gyp-
sum in thin beds, containing skeletons of unknown birds
and quadrupeds, bones of tortoises, skeletons of fishes, and
of mamniifer^, and sometimes fresh water shells. The
uppermost parts of tiie fresh water formation consists of
a white calcareous bed, with large siliceous trunks of palm
trees ; of marl beds calcareous and argillaceous, and of ar-
gillaceous and calcareous marls, thick without fossils. The
marine division of the fourth formation consists of yellow
scaly marl, two feet thick, with a few shells ; of green pot-
ters' earth without fossils ; of marl in four or five beds; of
vellov,' argillaceous marl with the boites of a fish ; of mjti'l

IR.VNCE.

397

beds, containing sea bivalve shells; of inarl '.vith a scam of
very largo oyster shells; of whitish marl without shells;
of marl with several seams of small thin oyster shells; and
of argillaceous sand without shells.

5. The fifth formation consists of argillaceous strata
without organised fossils, and of siliceous freestone and sea
sand, with numerous shells, of the same species as those
which occur in the coarse limesJone of the third formation.

6. The sixth formation consists of plastic clays ; of sili-
ceous limestone, containing burr-stones, but no fossils; of
argillaceous marls, and of freestone without shells.

7. The seventh formation consists of free stone without
shells ; of loose sand used in the arts, and of freestone
without shells.

8. The eighth formation consists of siliceous limestone,
which decomposes and contains burr stones ; it contains
four kinds of fresh water shells, and in some parts silice-
ous wood and vegetables.

9. The ninth formation is alluvial, in putrid marshy
vales, containing skeletons of large animals, trees. Sec. of
various kinds.

10. The last formation consists of alluvial sand on the
heights of Beauce, to the west and south of the basin of
Pans.

In the fourth, or gypseous formation, the gypsum quarry
of Montmartre occurs ; it is wrought to the depth of about
4C0 feet ; the strata are about two feet in thickness, and the
lowest are considered the best; about 200 feet from the
surface is a single stratum of argillaceous limestone, which
breaks with a conchoidal fracture ; above the gypsum is an
irregular bed of clay marl, about ten feet in depth. It is
in this quarry that Cuvier found the fossil bones which
have excited the attention of naturalists so much. The
gypsum is calcined on the spot by a moderate heat, which
expels the water of crystallization, and reduces it to a
powder.

Though somewhat out of place here, we may mention
other economical products, which are obtained in this ba-
sin: French burrs, which are used in making mill-stones,
are found in Fontainebleau forest, in the S. S. E. district of
the basin ; the covering of the siliceous lime-stone, of
which the burrs are composed, is in some places alluvia, or
argillaceous marls ; and in other places free stone without
shells. Burrs are also found at Trappc, 14 miles south-
west from Paris, with shells supposed to be of fresh water
origin. At Meudon, six miles south-west from Paris, there
is a stratum of coloured potter's clay, without fossils co-
vering the chalk, which extends in a south-east direction
towards Gentilly ; there are also in these two places, and
elsewhere, quarries of excellent freestone. At Sevres,
seven miles west from Paris, there are quarries of coarse
limestone and sand; and near the glasshouse here, the
mass of chalk is elevated near SO feet above the Seine,
and is apparently the highest part of it in the basin of Pa-
ris; the stone is sensibly inclined towards the river: this
is the only inclining stratum in the whole basin of Paris.

We shall conclude our account of this basin, with an
enumeration of some of the most remarkable organic re-
mains which have been found in it: Skeletons of unknown
birds have been found at Montmartre, in the first, or upper
gypsum mass : elephants bones in the alluvium, or ninth
formation: fish, and fish skeletons, at Montmartre and se-
veral other places : leaves and parts of vegetables changed
into silex in the alluvial sand : large trunks of palm trees
converted into silex, in the fourth or gypseous formation :
skeletons of various quadrupeds are lound, not only in the
same formation, but also in the ninth formation, or the val-
ley alluvium. Sharks teeth are found in the chalk, or first
formation. Tortoise bones at Montmartre and other places

of the gypseous formation. Bituminous wood, near the
Seine, in the potters' clay formation, in which no other or-
ganized remains have been found. Oysters arc found in
the chalk stiata, in the lower beds of the coarse limestone,
in the freestone, and all over the gypseous formation.

Next in importance, in a geological point of \ic\\, to the
basin of Paris, is the province of Auvcrgne. This has
been cursorily referred to in mentioning the mountains of
France; but it deserves more paiticuhir notice in thi-;
place. Proceeding northward from Avirillac, past a vein
of chalk in a country whcie it would least be expected, a
mountainous tract of great extent appears. Tliesc are the
basaltic mountains of the province of Auvergne, the mo-
dern departments of the upper Loire and Cantal. The
northern part of the chain is styled the Puy de Dome, and
the southern that of Cantal : the Monts D'Or form the
centre. The chief elevation is that of the Puy de Sausi:
this enormous assemblage of rocks covers an extent of
about 120 miles. It is a most singular and interesting
tract, independently of these high mountains: great pail
of it is extremely rugged and unimpassable, the whole
surface being covered with blocks of granite or basalt. A
stratum of basalt seems to have covered a large part of
this district, the remains of which are seen on every emi-
nence, forming horizontal crests on the same level. There
are about 100 cones, besides numerous longitudinal ridges,
all of which are basaltic; and at the base of some of ih.ese
cones, M. D'Aubuisson discovered currents of the same
substance. Near St Chamont some masses of basalt pre-
sent the appearance of columns bent in an extraordinary
manner. One of the most celel)rated of these cones is call-
ed La Tour d'Auvergne. Among the scoriae, about three
leagues from Clermont, are the charred remains of many
trees. No appearance of a crater is to be observed any
where.

Such is a general description of the basaltic district of
Auvergne ; according to some it is of volcanic origin ; but
a chain of valcanoes, such as on this supposition the cones
would indicate, it has been asserted, would be too bold even
for conjecture. It is foreign to the purpose of this article
to discuss this question ; we shall therefore only observe,
that, according to Doloniieu, who exaruined this district
very carefully, the lavas of Italy and Auvergne are per-
fectly analogous. There is, however, a nrarked dilference
in the styles of the two volcanic fields. In Italy the sub-
ordinate hills are disposed in groups, round tlie principal
volcano ; whereas in Auvergne, the elevations are detach-
ed, and seemed to have formed separate volcanoes. In
Italy, the ashes, scoriae, &:c. have formed im:nensc accu-
mulations over an immense extent of ground, on which
streams of lava have been afterwards induced; whereas in
Auvergne, the ashes and scoris lie on the original granitic
soil. This district has also been examined by another
French geologist, M. Mutheron, who was bred in it; and
he states, in reference to its origin, that the granite hills
contain in their bosom large heterogeneous masses, and
veins indubitably volcanic. That the ancient volcanoes are
frequently approximated to each other, and that the frag-
ments of granite detached by eruptions, are more or less
calcined, opaque, or deprived of their water of crystalliza-
tion. Mr Birkbeck, one of the latest and most acute and
observant English travellers in France, is of opinion that
the cones and longitudinal ridges of basalt in Auvergne,
have been formed entirely by subsidence, and are the ve-
nerable remains of the ancicrit surface.

The geology of the Pyrenees in some respects is inte-
resting. To the surprise of mineralogists, they present
calcareous appearances, and even shells, near or upon thcii-
highest summits, which are in the centre of the chain.

!98

lllANCE.

The Abbe Palasso, in his Essay on the inineralogy of these
moiinlaiiis, p;ivcs a mincralogical chart of them, from which
it appears that the granite docs not occupy one fifth of the
liorizonial surface on tlie north side of tlie viilge, reckon-
ing from one end of it to the other ; and many i;rcat tracts,
even of the central parts of the Pyrenees, contain no [granite
whatsoever; and not a few of tlic lii!(hest mountains con-
sist entirely of calcareous schistus. In other places, l)lock.s
of granite arc interspersed with vertical bands, argillaceous
and calcareous, the latter primitive or secondary, and sup-
plying the marbles of Campan and Antin, of beautiful red,
spotted with white. The colour of the general mountain
mass is grey. The summit of Mount Perdu, which is the
highest elevation of the Pyrenees, abounds in inarine exu-
visc ; hence La Peyrousc infers, that it, and all that central
and most elevated portion of these mountains, which also
include a profusion of petrified marine bodies, distributed
even in large families, have been formed under the waters
of the sea. With the remains of marine bodies, the bones
of quadrupeds are mi-xed. On Mount Perdu, there is also
a deposition of sand-stone. It further appears, that m the
Pyrenees there are, 1. The primitive rocks of limestone,
uniformly destitute of organic remains, alternating with
beds of granite, porphyry, trap, hornstone, and pelrosi-
lex, all of the same formation, and a common origin ; and,

2. Limestone, containing vestiges of petrified animals,
■which is never blended with the primordial rocks, but is
often incumbent on them ; this is of different origin and
more recent formation. 3. That this secondary limestone,
being found covering the sunmiits even of the granite, por-
phyry, Sec. must have been deposited there by the water;
and, lastly, that the sandstone already mentioned is the last
deposiliun fronr the waters. It may also be remarked, that
the inclination of the primitive beds is in a contrary direc-
tion from that of the secondary rocks.

Our remaining illustrationsof the mineralogy and geolo-
gy of different parts of France, must be very short and un-
connected, as we cannot pretend to give full and connected
views on this subject. At Marly La Villc, the following
are the order and depths of the respective strata. 1 . Earth,
mud, and sand, 15 feet. 2. Eaith and gravel, 2 feet 6 inches.

3. Mud and sand, 3 feet. 4. Hard marl, 2 feet. 5. Marly
stone, 4 feet. 6. Powdery marl with sand, 5 feet. 7. Sand,

1 foot 6 inches. 8. Marl and sand, 3 feet 6 inches. 9.
Hard marl and flint, the same depth. 10. Gravel or marl
in powder, 1 foot. 11. Eglantine, 1 foot 6 inches. 12.
Marly gravel, the same depth. 13. Stony marl, 4 feet 6
inches. 14. Sand and shells, 1 foot 6 inches. 15. Gravel,

2 feet. 16. Stony marl, 3 feet 6 inches. 17. Powdered
marl, 1 foot 6 inches. 18. Hard stone, 1 foot. 19. Sand
and shells, 18 feet 6 inches. 20. Brown freestone, 3 feet.
21. Sand, 22 feet 6 inches; — in all, 100 feet. In the hills
near Etampes, a considerable town in the department of the
Seine and the Oise, seated on the river Loet, the strata are
very difl'erent ; exhibiting, 1. Vegetable earth, 4 feet. 2.
Marl and turf, 135 feet. 3. Freestone, marl, and shells, 12
feet. 4. Brown pebbles, 4 feet. 5. Marl and shells, 6 inches.
6. Sand and grit, 45 feet. 7. Sand and rounded pebbles, 18
feet. 8. Sand and shells, 6 feet. 9. Sand and gravel, 16
feet. 10. Tufa and shells, 4 feet. 11, Soft strata, 4 feet.
J 2. Marly clay, 8 feet; — in all, 256 feet 6 inches.

Between Rouen and Louviers, the Seine has worn its
channel through about 50 strata of chalk. The strata are
from 18 inches to two feet in thickness, and are divided by
flints. The chalk is soft and mouldering. These cliffs
differ from the chalk cliffs of England, fron\ their horizon-
tal position, the number of their strata, and the thickness of
the layers of flints, as well as the softness of the chalk. To
the south of Moulins, no more flint appears. At St Urban,

near Viennc, there are granite pebbles in vast beds, 800
feet at least above the level of the Rhone. A few miles to
the north of Valence, the mountains of granite give place
to stratified rocks of sandstone and limestone. Opposite
this town is a remarkable rock of crumbling sandstone, in
horizontal strata. Between tlie same place and Avignon,
the Rhone flows between moimtains of stratified limestone.
Avignon itself stands on a bofd rock of limestone, of im-
mense blocks, in appearance nearly resembling granite.
In leavitig the Pyrenees, and descending from Foix to Pa-
mier, alluvial hills of quartzose sand, or of schist, assuming
the character of clay, with some calcareotis rocks, are found.
At Caylus is a stratum of chalk between strata of limestone,
which occurs in other parts of France, but is uncommon if
not unknown in Britain. In a northerly direction from this
is the volcanic country of Auvergne, which has been alrea-
dy noticed.

Having given this cursory description of the geology and
mineralogy of some of the most interesting ])arts of France,
we shall now proceed to ofi'er some miscellaneous remarks,
which may serve to fill up any omissions of importance that
may have occurred.

1. With respect to primitive apd secondary compounds.
The principal localities of granite and gneiss have been
already mentioned. Jasper is lound in the south of France,
reposing on gianitc. Porous jjorphyry, appeari))g as if it
had undergone the action of fiic, occurs in the mountain of
Estirete in Provence, on the road from Frejus to Antibes.
Primitive trap, alternating with granite and with gneiss,
occurs near St Maloes. Secondary limestone, in vast mas-
ses, irregularly rifted, in the V'ivarrais. The secondary
limestone of Blount Perdu has been already mentioned.
The gypsum of the quarries near Paris has also been notic-
ed ; but it may be added, that lenticular gypsum is a curi-
ous variety, that seems peculiar to Montmartre ; that cry-
stallized gypsum is also found near Paris; fibrous gypsum,
near Riom in Auvergne, in the volcanic district; and gyp-
seous alabaster in Franche Compte, and at Lagny on the
Marne, about 20 miles from Paris. Fluorspar is abundant
in France, occurring in almost inexhaustible mines, in the
primitive mountains of Gyromagny, in the Vosges, in the
neighbourhood of Langeac in Auvergne, and at Forez ; it
is also found in the mountain of Pilat, not far from Lyons.
Basalt, or perhaps whinstone, alternating with limestone,
occurs near Villeneuve-de-Berg, a town in the department
of the Ardeche, 1 2 miles north-west of Viviers. The coal
mines of France will be afterwards noticed : at present we
shall confine our remarks to a singular dyke that has been
discovered in the coal field in the district of Boulogne. It
runs in the form of a crescent from north to west, and con-
sists of a species of marble, found in several quarries in the
vicinity. This dyke has been traced to the perpendicular
depth of 600 feet, where it is succeeded by a schistus rock,
and this, following the same course and inclination, conti-
nues to intersect the horizontal strata. Granite dykes,
from an inch to six feet in thickness, — the quartz, feldspar,
and mica of which are of larger size than are usually found
in the granite of mountains, — occur on the great road be-
tween Limoges and Cahors, traversing horizontal strata of
argillaceous schistus, a species of stone that has generally
been considered of later formation than granite.

2. Metallic veins and ores. The economical account of
the mines of France will be afterwards given. Our sub-
ject at present is purely mineralogical. Small quantities
of native cinnabar, sooty silver ore, red silver ore, and cor-
neous silver ore, are found in France ; the last at Allemont,
where black silver ore also occurs. Of the ores of copper,
France possesses native copper, and yellow copper ore.
Native iron occurs at Oulii, near Grenoble. The chro-

FRANCE.

399

mate of iron has been Ibuiid in considerable abundance in
veins and nodules, in beds of serpentine, in the riepartnient
of the Var. Of the ores of lead, brown lead ore, a very
rare species, occurs in the lead mines of Brittany. In them
also native bismuth is found. Native antimony, a very rare
species, striated sulphuretted antimony, and red antimonial
ore, are found at AUemont in Dauphiny, where occur yel-
low cobalt ochre, red cobalt ore, and sulphuretted nickel.
It is worthy of remark, that antimony has been found at
this place imbedded in a matrix of pit-coal. The manga-
nese mine at Romanesche, in the department of the Saone
and the Loire, is distinguished by the following particulars.
1. It contains a very considerable quantity of sulphate of
barytes, about one-sixth of the ma&s, not accidentally mix-
ed, but in a state of chemical combination. 2. The total
absence of iron from its composition is the inore extraor-
dinary, because the affinity between these substances is so
great, that few iron ores are destitute of manganese ; and
no other instance of manganese devoid of iron has been
found. 3. The hardness of those portions of the ore that
contain the least quantity of oxygen is so considerable, that
they not only scratch glass, but even rock-crystal, and give
bright sparks when struck. 4. When plunged for a mi-
nute in w^terj the variety that contains the least quantity of
oxygen absorbs a certain quantity of the liquid; and when
taken out of it, emits a very strong argillaceous odour,
though no clay has been detected in its composition. 5. In
the same circumstances, that variety which contains a lar-
ger portion of oxygen, rapidly absorbs a great quantity of
water, with a hissing noise, and disengagement of air. The
odour which it then exhales is very strong; but though
approaching to the argillaceous, it produces a difTerent sen-
sation, which it is very difficult to describe. Sulphuretted
molybdena is found at Tillot ; micaceous uranitic ore near
Autun ; and titanite at St Yrieux. Octahedrite, another
species of the titanium genus, has been found lining the ca-
vities of a vein, accompanied by quartz and feldspar in a
primitive rock in Dauphiny.

3. Having enumerated the most remarkable of the com-
pound rocks, and metallic veins and ores, we shall now no-
tice the other mineral substances, not included in these two
classes.

Earths and stones. Of the genus ZirCon, the hyacinth
lias been found in the rivulet Expailly, in the department
of the Upper Loire. Of the siliceous genus, (jlivine is
found in the Vivarrais ; grenatite in Brittany; the emerald,
of a bad colour and confused crystallization, however, has
lately been discovered in the vicinity of Limoges ; the be-
ryl, in a large vein of cjuartz, traversing graphic granite;
the tourmaline, the pistazite, or glassy actinolite of Kir-
wan, in Dauphiny, on the surface and in the fissures of an
argillaceous rock, accompanied by quartz, amianthus, and
feldspar, and in the Pyrenees in limestone ; — thummerstone
in the Pyrenees; — the amethyst in Auvergne; — aventurine,
a variety of common quartz, held in considerable estimation,
has been found near Vastes, in the department of the Two
Sevres, in the form of rounded stones, that are reddish. In
the department of Jura, globular masses of Hint occur, with
cavities containing sulphur. Chalcedony, in thin layers,
alternating vcith gneiss ; and agate, imbedded in granite,
containing nodules of the same granite, and penetrated with
iron pyrites, have been found near Vienne, in the depart-
ment of the Isere ; menilite, the pitch-stone of Kirwan, at
Menil Montant, near Paris; veins of prehnite, in Dauphi-
ny ; laumonite, or efHorescent zeolite, in the lead mines of
JIuelgolt, in Brittany ; andalucite, the adamantine sp?r of
Kirwan, was first discovered in the granitic rocks of Forez,
in the department of the Rhone and Loire, where it occu-
pies a vein of common feldspar ; hollow spar, a subspecies

of feldspar, is imbedded in argiliaucous beniiius, in the
mines of Biiitany.

Of the argillaceous genus, porcelain earth is found at
Limoges and Bayonnc. Adhesive slate forms considerable
beds at Menil Montant, in which beds the mcnilite already
noticed is found. The mountain of Avcrne, near I'rejus,
which abounds in mineral productions, presents large quan-
tities of a sort of micaceous sand, resembling silver and
gold, which, by reflecting the rays of the sun, produces the
most brilliant effect. So rich do these sands appear, that a
representative of the people, not versed in the study of mi-
neralogy, crossing tliis mountain in 1793, eagerly collected
a quantity of this beautiful sand, and carried it with him to
the Convention, as a proof of the negligence of the admin-
istrators of the department of the Var, who trod under their
feet treasures adequate to sustain the expcnce of the war
against all the kings of the universe. Basalt, lava, indura-
ted lithomarge. Sec. are also found in France.

Snow of a very bright red colour has sometimes been
found on the summits of the highest mountains. The mat-
ter which colours it, burns with a smell similar to that of a
great many vegetable substances. Saussure, who often
collected such snow on the Alps, was induced, by this pro-
perty, as well as by its being found in summer, and in pla-
ces where a great many plants were in flower, to consider
the colouring matter as the faiina of some plant. Ramond,
who found this dust on the snow of the Pyrenees, having
remarked that it is heavier than water, susjjected it to be
of mineral origin ; and on analysing it, he found that it
arose from a decomposition of certain micas.

Of the magnesian genus, fullers' earth, though not sa
good in quality, nor so abundant as in England, is found in
France. There are also other species of this genus, but
none that require particular notice.

Of the calcareous genus, the great body of chalk which
traverses France from Champagne to Calais has alreadM^
been mentioned, and also the marbles of the Pyrenees, ana
the marls and gypsum in the vicinity of Paris, as well as
the other most interesting species of this genus, that occur
in France.

Of the barytic genus, sulphate of barytes has been found
in the province of Auvergne; and in 1798, M. Leiievre
discovered the sulphate of strontian in a striated mass; it
was about the depth of 15 or 16 feet in clay, which had
been digging for some years before at Bouvron near Toul.

Petroleum and asphaltcs are found in great abundance in
Alsace, in a bed of sand, b»it upon two beds of clay or ar-
gillaceous schistus. Auvergne also contains abundance of
fossil pitch, which exudes in a warm season from a rock
impregnated with it through its whole mass.

The organic remains found in the basin of Paris have al-
ready been noticed. They also occur in other parts of
France; but we can only afford room for the following in-
stance. At St Chaumont, near Lyons, is found an argil-
laceous schistus covering a bed of coal, every lamina of
which is marked with the impressions of the stem leaf, or
other part of some ferns, all of species not only not found
in France, but peculiar to the Ea^t Indies, or the warmer
climates of America. The fruit of a tree which grows oniy
on the coasts of Malabar and Coromandel was also found
here.

We shall now proceed to the economical account of the
mineral productions of France.

The only mine of gold which in modern times has been
wrought in France, was discovered in 1791, at Gardctte, in
the valley of Oysans, in the department of the Isere. This
was a regular vein of quartz, traversing a mountain of
gneiss, and containing auriferous sulphuret of iron, and
some fine specimens of native gold; but it was not suffi-

400

FRANCE.

cicnily rich to defray the expence of the oporalion. Many
of Uie rivers of France contain auriferous sand, as the
Khine, tlie Uoubs, the Garonne, the Ardcclic, and several
of the small rivulets which flow from the Pyrenees: and it
is said that i^old is also found among the black sand, and
particles of morassy iron ore, in the neighbourhood of Paris.

Tlicre are silver mines at St Marie-aux-mines in Alsace,
at Girogrnauy in the department of the Upper Rliine; near
the rriounlains of Vosges, also a part of Alsace ; and at
AUemont in Dauphiny ; but silver is most commonly at-
tached to the lead and copper ore: and the former metal in
some parts of France is particularly rich in this respect,
containing for every quintal of lead nearly 16 ounces of sil-
ver.

Iron is found in abundance, particularly in the north-
eastern departments. The ore is not unfrequently found
in large lumps on the surface, and the strata are most
commonly but a few feet below it. The Pyrenees abound
in large banks containing iron ore. There is an iron mine
of considerable repute at Vicdessos, situated very high in
these mountains, about 15 miles to the south-west of Tara-
scon, and not far from the frontier of Spain. The " chan-
tiers," or places where the ore is dug, are some hundred
fathoms deep ; and the passage to them in many parts very
narrow and steep. Up tliese passages the ore is brought
with amazing toil, on the backs of the miners. Some carry
100 lb. some 120 lb. and some even more, according to
their strength. The mine is the property of government.
There are generally 400 persons at work in it, under in-
spectors, but paying themselves by the sale of the ore to the
forge masters. It is miserably wrought, without a single
improvement, Mr Birkbeck supposes, since the days of
Julius Caesar. The ore is rich, and containing calcareous
spar, is reduced without the addition of any other substance.
It lies very irregularly, under lime of a schistose appear-
ance. The mass of ore is in some parts upward of 60 feet
%t\ thickness. The miners are mostly proprietors of land.
The -.vliole surface of the mountain is divided in patches of
dilTcrent dimensions, all cultivated and watered with the
utmost assiduity, and clothed with luxuriant vegetation.
There are also abundant mines of iron in Upper Languedoc ;
in the mountains of the Rouergue, v/hich bound the western
part of the province ; and in the county of Foix, which
joins Languedoc to the south, there is a mine of iron so
extensive, that it has supplied 40 founderies for upwards of
two centuries. In these parts, the furnaces to the iron
founderies, instead of being blown with bellows, are suppli-
ed with a current of air, by means of water precipitated
through a vertical tube, to which is given the name of a
trombe, the same word which is used in France for a water
spout. This practice is of very ancient standing. There
are also iron mines in Franche Compte, Lorraine, Cham-
pagne, Berri, &c. Great attention has been paid to the
working of all the iron mines, since the Revolution. The
iRtmber of forges for the working of iron and steel are
computed at nearly 2000 ; but these included the forges in
those departments in the north-east, which no longer belong
to France. Before the Revolution, I' ranee imported iron
to the annual value of 1 1 or 12 millions of livres. A great
quantity of steel is still imported from Germany into France.
There are some rich copper mines in the Pyrenees, in the
departments of the Rhone and the Upper Alps, in the
mountains of Rouergue, in the departments of the Loire,
the Lozere, and the Ardeche, andin Saint Marie-aux-mines,
near the mountains of Vosges. The principal copper
founderies are at Saint Bel, Lyons, Avignon, Bedarieux,
Montpellier, h.c. Formerly almost all the copper used in
France was brought from Sweden.

Two-thirds of the lead of France arc from Biittany, par-
ticulaily the mines of Pouilaoven and Huelgoet. There
are also lead mines in the department of the Channel ; but
they have been repeatedly abandoned, in consequence of a
deficiency of coal for working tiiem. Mines of lead also
occur in the departments of the Maritime Alps, tlie Lozere,
Ardeciie, &c. and in the Mountains of V^osges. Most of
those that are worked, yield silver at the same time.

France possesses mines of antimony, which might suffice
for supplying all Europe with that commodity. The prin-
cipal ores arc those of Creuse, Cantal, the Higher Loire,
La Vendee, the departments of the Ardeche and Allier,
and at AUemont in Dauphiny.

Zinc is the most common of the French semi-metals.
It is found in three states in the mines ; viz. in blende, white
vitriol, and lapis calaminaris. The latter is very abundant
at Saint Sauveur, in the Cevennes, at Pierreville in the de-
partment of the Channel, at Montalit near Bourges, Saumur,
and other places.

Cobalt is found in the silver, and bismuth in the lead
mines. The former is chiefly met with in the mines of Al-
sace; and bismuth in the mines of Brittany, Saint Sau-
veur, &c.

Manganese is in great abundance. The mine of this
metal at Roman6che in the department of tife Saone and
Loire, has already been noticed. It also occurs in the de-
partments of the Loire and the Vosges, and near Perigord,
whence it is sometimes called Pierre de Perigord.

The only mine of mercury that is now wrought, is at
Menildot, in the department of Calvados. The quick-
silver mines in the department of the Channel have been
abandoned.

Before proceeding to our economical account of the
coal mines of France, we shall notice some particulars
connected with their mineralogical and geological cha-
racter, which we thought it better to refer to this place.

The coal strata of Provence are situated at the foot of the
highest mountains of Lower Provence ; they run along a
soil of a whitish red colour, and traverse a pretty uniform
range of hills, whose internal structure presents nothing
very remarkable to the ordinary observer. To the first
layer of earth, a bed of stone succeeds, of various thickness,
and followed by a layer of earth of the same nature as the
first, which in turn reposes on new beds of hard stone.
This series continues to a variable depth, and then the
earthy layers are no longer seen. They are succeeded by
those of coal, which are always included between beds of
limestone. These are seldom of any considerable thickness,
have a foliated texture, and in proportion as they approach
to the coal, change their colour from a cloudy white to a
blue of a lighter or deeper shade: hence they might at
first sight be regarded as schistose, though they are un-
questionably calcareous, and abound in marine and river
shells. This disposition of the coal strata of Provence ex-
tends over a district of more than 20 leagues in length ;
but the thickness of the seams seldom exceeds two or
three feet. This situation of coal is curious, as it puts
beyond a doubt the existence of coal in limestone, which
had been long denied. The coal of Alais, a town in the
department of Gard, near the foot of the Cevennes, presents
a mixture of calcareous matter, and is often burnt for the
express purpose of obtaining lime. The geology of this
provincial district of France also furnishes an instance of
the occasional interposition of layers of peat earth between
those of coal, though it may be doubted whether the al-
leged peat may not more properly be classed with vitriolic
or bituminous earth, or even perhaps with fossil wood.
Many of the coal strata in France are encompassed by pri-

FRANCE.

401

mitive rocks ; while most of those in England and Flanders
are insulated in secondary soil.

The other most considerable coal mines in France are
those in the Lyonnois at Forez, in the department of tlie
Rhone and Loire, in Burgundy, Auvergnc, and Franche
Compt6. The mines in the Lyonnois, and those at Forez,
are among the most important: they are situated in a val-
ley extending from the Rhone to the Loire, in a direction
from north-east to south-west, between two chains of pri-
mitive mountains, occupying in length a space of six or
seven leagues, from Rive-de-Gier to Firmine. In one part
of the valley, in the neighbourhood of St Etienne, the strata
are nearly horizontal, and the medium thickness of the coal
stratum is from three to six feet; near the Loire, there are
from 15 to 20 of these strata. The strata at Rive-de-Gier
are almost vertical ; their thickness is very unequal ; some-
times amounting to upwards of forty feet, and seldom less
than three feet : the quantity of course is immense, and the
quality excellent. In the neighbourhood of Rive-de-Gier,
forty mines are generally at work ; and in one year, they
produced 1,600,000 quintals of coal. As Liege no longer
belongs to France, it is not necessary to notice its exten-
sive and valuable mines of coal in this place.

In French Hainault, there are some coal mines at the
villages of Fresne, Conde, Augin, Sec. which have been
wrought for a considerable length of time: there are also
mines in the Bourbonnois, Boulonnois, Nivernois, where
coal is found witliin three feet of the surface; at Car-
meux ; between Beaune and Autun in the department of
the Cote D'Or; in several places in Anjou; in Brittany,
near Chapelle ; Montrellois, and Niort ; at Livry in Lower
Normandy ; and in the neighbourhood of Paris.

BufFon estimated the coal mines which were constantly
•wrought in France, in his time, at 400; and added that 200
rnore were capable of being wrought. In 1798, Lefebre
published a report of the different coal mines in France;
the substance of which we shall give, though of course it
includes the mines in those departments, particularly those
formed out of the bishopric of Liege, which no longer be-
long to France.

From this report it appears, that coal was actually
wrought in 47 departments of the empire; that indications
of its occurrence had been traced in 16 others ; that the
yearly produce of the mines of 34 departments had been
fairly estimated at 77,600,000 quintals ; that if 3,880,000
quintals were to be allowed for the undetermined depart-
ments, the total number of quintals would be 81,700,000,
which, if converted into money on the coal grounds, would
fetch 33,280,000 francs ; and that more than 60,000 indivi-
duals earned their subsistence at the coaleries, indepen-
dently of those who were engaged in the caniage and ex-
portation of the commodity.

In the annual expose of the French government for the
yev^r 1814, (the first year after Louis XVIII. ascended the
throne,) a very flattering picture is drawn of the state of
the mines in France ; for it was the policy as well as the
interest of all the various rulers, during the revolutionary
sera of that kingdom, to pay particular interest to the
working of the mines; and, for that purpose, all the scien-
tific talents, experience, and skill, which could possibly be
brought to bear on their management, v/as, if the expres-
sion may be allowed, put in requisition. According to this
expose, which of course must be understood as applying
exclusively to France proper, there were, in 1814, 478
mines of different kinds actually working, which employ-
ed 17,000 men, and produced a raw material of the value
of 26,800,000 francs, and a revenue to the state of 251,000
francs. From the small number of men employed, as well
as from the estimate of the value of the raw material, as

Vol. IX. Part I.

well as the expression raw maierial itself, this statement
must be regarded as not including coal tnines, but only
mines of the different metals found in France.

Jet is found in tlie departments of ihc Aube, the Garde,
and the Ardeche ; but principally in the neighbourhood
of three villages, in the department of the Aube, in the
south-west of Languedoc. It is in beds like coal, but not
continuous, and is sometimes rendered impure by a mix-
ture of pyrites. It is for the most part met with in a kind
of rusty earth, of an ash Colour, and sometimes occurs in
masses of the weight of 50 lbs. about 5 or 6 toises under
the surface of the ground. It has been manufactured from
time immemorial, in the three villages alluded to, into
rosaries, crosses, buttons for black dresses, fcc. being an
article of great consumption, chiefly in Spain. In 1786,
it employed more than 1200 workmen, and the annual
supply of the mineral was computed at 1000 quintals;
Besides exports to Germany, Italy, and the Levant, Spain
imported these jet manufactures to the annual amount of
180,000 livres. Latteily, however, the mines in France
seem to have yielded a diminished supply, as jet was im-
ported from Spain for the manufactures. Solid bitumen,
or asphaltum, is obtained chiefly in the departments of the
Ain and the Lower Rhine ; ghuinous Ijitumen, called pis-
alphaltus in tiie department of the Puy de Dome ; liquid
bitumen, called naphtha and petroleum, in Auvtrgne, (as
has already been noticed,) and in the departments of the
Herault, and the Lower Pyrenees. Rosin is procured
along the banks of the Rhone, from Seisal to Fort Ecluse.
Alum is found in considerable fjuantities in the department
of the Aveyron. In the province of Berry, ochre, which is
used for melting of metals, and in dyeing. Beside the ex-
tensive morasses of peat earth along the Somme, and
Essone, which seem to have been used for fuel at an early
period, there are many other situations, particularly in the
north-western departments of France, where this combus-
tible substance is found in greater or less abundance.
Within these few years, in consequence of the increasing
scarcity of fuel, the attention of the government, as well as
of the public, has been called to the state of the turbaries
in various parts of the country. Turquoises, scarcely in-
ferior to those of the East, are among' the fossil produc-
tions of the mountains of the Roucrguc, already frequently
mentioned : the principal mine is at Simoze. The re-
mains of the species of animal, of which the teeth tinged
by copper afford the turquois stone, are found in the de-
partment of the Ain. Vitriol, ochres, sulphur, and ex-
cellent argil for potteries, are also found in these moun-
tains. Indeed all sorts of earths and sands used in manu-
factures, as kaolin or porcelain earth, arenaceous quartz,
puzzolane, &cc. abound in France. Besides the quarries
of freestone in the immediate neighbourhood of Paris,
there are many others in the kingdom, [larticularly near
Slrasburg, towards Saverne, and along the Rhine. Thess
quarries afford hard and solid stones of a surprising size,
some being 24 feet long and 6 feet broad ; and quarries of
a kind of jasper near Salins in Franche Comp;e, some
blocks from which are so large as to be capable of mak-
ing columns of from 12 to 15 feet high. The marble
quarries of the Pyrenees have been already mentioned.

The salt springs at Salins in r'ranche Compte, about
six leagues south from Besan^on, and as many east from
Dole, demand our notice in this place. The highest hills
which surround Salins are of primitive limestone, which
is very hard, mixed with clay, and has a testaceous frac-
ture, l)ut contains no shells. Contiguous to these hills
are others, composed of limestone of secondary formation,
and abounding with shells. In this secondary limestone
arc found masses and thin layers of gypsum, which is

3 E

402

FRANCE.

quarried in difievent places. There are three distinct salt
springs, the strongest of which contains 23 per cent, of
salt, ai d the weakest only one. As not only the quantity,
l)iit aho liic strenn-th of these sources, is increased, very
soon after ram, it is probable that they proceed from some
natural magazine of rock salt in the neighbourhood. Such
arc tlie mineralogical circumstances connected with these
sprifigs, as given by Hassenfratz, in his " Observations on
tiie Salt Springs of Sallns." With respect to the econo-
mical circumstances relating to them, we may observe,
that the Great Salt-work, as it is called, is a strong place
. by itself in the middle of the town, surrounded with thick
■walls, round and adjoining to which are buildings for the
wheel-works, cranes, 8cc. which serve to raise tlic waters,
and for the furnaces, Sec. employed in the manufacture. In
other places are three great stone reservoirs, which to-
gether hold above 25,000 hogsheads of water : there is also
a fourth cistern in the ground, which holds above 15,000
hogsheads.

The whole extent of the subterranean caves is about 400
feet in length, by 50 or 60 in breadth ; the descent is by 61
steps. At the bottom of this cave, there issue from the
same rock, within the space of 14 feet, six springs of salt,
and two of fresh water. In another part of the cave are
six or seven springs of salt water, along with ten or twelve
of fresh water : the waters, of course, are kept quite sepa-
rate. The salt water is collected in a basin, whence it is
raised by wooden pails, linked together about a great
wheel, which is turned by a horse. Tliese pails are filled
in the basin ; and whilst some are filling, the others empty
themselves into another basin that stands higher, and out
of which the water runs into the stone' reservoirs. The
different springs have different degrees of saltness. If 1
cwt. of water does not produce at least 18 or 20 lb. of salt,
the profit will not answer the expence. The overseers of
the springs try the strength of the waters once a week,
that, upon their report, those who mix them may do it in
a due proportion, according to their respective degrees of
saltness. In the e.vaporating process, there is nothing that
requires notice. The surface, or uppermost part of the
salt, which, for its Avhiteness, brightness, and strength, is
called scl trie, is sent to Switzerland in casks, and sold at
a moderate price ; the remainder is moulded into cakes
of three or four pounds weight. The salt is manufactur-
ed at Monter and Arq, as well as at Salins. There are
also salt springs at Dieuze and Chateau-Salins, in the pro-
vince of Lorraine, and salt refineries at Moyenvie, in the
district of tlie Three Bishoprics, as it is called.

Sea salt is made in great abundance on the coast of
France, particularly on the coasts of Brittany, Saintonge,
Aunis, Normandy, Poitou, and Languedoc. The salt
marshes of Saintonge and Aunis produce the best salt in
Europe. In the department of the Channel, salt is pre-
pared from sea sand on a very extensive and beneficial
plan.

The principal mineral waters in France are those of Aix,
Bagnercs, and Barege. The waters of Aix in Provence
must have been known to tlie Romans, as the name of the
town is derived from ^gtia Sertca, from the baths, esta-
blished in it by C. Sextius Calvinius. The source of the
baths, however, was lost, till the beginning of the last cen-
tury, when it was discovered in digging for the founda-
tion of a house, just without the city wall. The tempera-
ture of the water is about the same as that of the Queen's
bath at Bath ; its contents similar to those of Aix la Cha-
pelle, principally sulphur, carbonate of lime, and muriate
of soda. Bagneres, in the eastern part of Guienne, de-

rives its" name from its baths, which were frequented by
the Romans. The hottest spring raises the mercury in
Fahrenheit's thermometer to 123°, while the most mode-
rate causes it to ascend only to 86°. Two are exactly
equal in heat to that of the human body ; ten are below
it, and eighteen are above it. The waters of the Queen's
bath" are strongly purgative ; those of Salut and Le Pre,
diuretic and cooling. Tlie degree of heat in Salut is 88}.
Bareges is situated in a frightful chasm of a valley, shad-
ed on both sides by rude, barren mountains, and the Bas-
ton, a foaming torrent, filling the hollow. The situation
is such, that the inhabitants dare not stay here during the
winter, but remove all their furniture, and even their doors
and windows, to such houses as are most out of the reach
of mischief from the floods and avalanches. The mineral
waters issue out of a hill in the centre of the village, and
are distributed into three baths : they are strongly sul-
phureous, and consequently very fetid. Their degree of
heat is from 80 to 1 12j : they are greasy to the touch, and
tinge silver black. The waters of St Sauveur, near Luz,
are not so hot as those of Bareges, but their taste is still
more nauseous. There are other mineral waters at Cau-
terets, in .the midst of beautiful scenery. The hottest
spring raises the mercury to 1 18° ; in the coolest, it falls
to 69°. Bagneres de Luchon may also be mentioned: it
is a small town on the river Neste, completely hemmed in
by lofty mountains on the borders of Catalonia. The baths
are at a small distance from the town, and near the springs,
which issue out of a rock, and are three in number, vary-
ing materially in their degrees of heat, but all tepid. One
of them is separated by a plank from a copious stream,
which furnishes the coldest and purest water in the valley.
Their streams are sufTered to unite soon afterv.ards, to fill
the tepid baths. The other mineral waters of any note in
France, are those of Forges, \'ichi, Bourbonne, Balaruc,
and Plombieres.

Of the natural curiosities in France, we shall princi-
pally confine our attention to those which are interesting
from their connection with its physical geography. In this
point of view, the plain of La Crau claims our first notice.
It is situated on the east side of the Rhone, between Salon
and Aries; its form is triangular; it covers an area of
aljout 20 square leagues, or 136,780 English acres. This
area is covered entirely with quartz of gravel, some of the
size of a man's head, but of all sizes less, and the shingle
of the sea shore is not more barren of soil. The basis of
the whole plain consists of horizontal layers of pudding
stone ; and as, on examination, the stones on the plain have
been ascertained to be exactly of the same kind, there can
be little doubt that the vast body of gravel spread over this
singular plain has originated from the destruction of layers
of the same rock, which may perhaps have risen a great
height above what is now- the surface. This is the opinion
of Saussure, and is more probable than the suppositions,
that the gravel has been brought down by the Durance
from the Alps of Dauphiny ; that the Rhone has formed
it ; or that it is the work of the sea. This plain was known
to the ancients by the names of the Campus Lapidius, or
Campus Herculeus. The origin of the first name is suffi-
ciently obvious ; the latter was derived from its having
been the reputed scene where Hercules, fighting with the
sons of Neptune, and being in want of weapons, was suppli-
ed from heaven with a shower of stones.

There are some singular caves in France, particularly
that in Franche Compife, near the village of Beaume, ahd
those of Roquefort ; the former is remarkable from its
containing a glacier. This cave is at the bottom of a small

So called from the celebrated Queen of Xavarre, who here lays the scene of her Tales.

FRANCE.

403

valley, In the middle of a liiick forc-bt. The moiuh is 45
feet wide, and is level with the valley. After a long and
steep descent, there is a hall 100 feet high, and from this
a passage leads to the chamber containing the glacier, the
descent to which is by a ladder of 40 feet. In tliis cavern
are stalactites of solid ice, which are in some parts nearly
joined by pillars of the same material, rising from a magni-
ficent pedestal on the floor. Reaumur's thermometer,
which on the outside of the cave was at 20i degrees, fell
within it to Ij'. With respect to the caves of Roquefort,
ihe air issues from among the fragments of a calcareous
mountain. In the month of October, the thermometer of
Reaumur descended, in these caves, to 5i°, while it stood
at 13° in the open air ; and Chaptal, on the 21st of August
1787, with a good thermometer, which stood at 23° in the
shade in the open air, found the temperature of a rapid
current of air in one of the caves to be 4°. He was inform-
ed that the thermometer had been seen, in that exposition,
as low as 2" above zero. The hotter the external air, the
eooler the caves are found to be, because the current is then
stronger. These caves are used in the manufacture of a
peculiar and highly esteemed cheese.

The fountain of Vaucluse, immortalized by Petrarch, is
not uninteresting to the naturalist. At the termination of
the valley of Vaucluse, is an immense perpendicular rock,
measuring 600 feet in height from its base ; within this
rock is the cavern, in which rises the fountain of Vaucluse.
The entrance to the cavern is 60 feet in height ; before it
rises an immense rock, which quite conceals it: through
this rock the water fillers, gushing out at its base in innu-
merable little streams. Such is the ordinary state of the
fountain ; but when, in the spring, the snows of the moun-
tains melt, the water rises above the rock, and fonns an
immense cascade. In the territory of Meyrargues, in the
diocese of Aix, is a spring called the fountain of La Foux,
which has the same periodical risings as the fountain of
Vaucluse, but it is little known.

In the department of Ardeche are several natural curiosi-
ties ; the bridge of rock, under which the river of Ardeche
passes ; the grottoes of Vallon ; the gulf ofGoule; with
many singular basaltic columns, kc.

II. In describing the bo/any of France, we shall be prin-
cipally indebted to the sketch of it given by Mr Aikin.

Notwithstanding the pains that have hitherto been be-
stowed by French naturalists in illustrating the Flora of
their native country, it still remains in an imperfect state.
Particular districts, as the environs of Montpelier, Lyons,
and Paris, have been surveyed with considerable accuracy;
"but many chasms must yet be filled, before a comprehen-
sive history can be made out of the vegetable productions
of France, So great, indeed, is its extent, and so various
its climate, that probably more than half the European
species of plants may be found within its boundaries. The
bleak shores of the north ; the fertile plains on the Belgian
frontier; the rich vales of the Loire, the Rhine, and Ga-
ronne ; the towering heights of Auvergne ; the exterior
ridges of the Alps and Pyrenees ; the sunny exposure of
the Mediterranean coast ; ofier such striking differences
of soil and temperature, as evince at once a most abundant
catalogue of indigenous plants. That country which pro-
duces in full and equal perfection, wheat and apples, maize
and grapes, oranges and olives, the oak and the myrtle,
must doubtless exceed all other European countries of
equal extent, in the variety and richness of its vegetable
treasures. The southern and eastern provinces of France
being those which have been the most carefully explored,
as well as containing the most interesting plants, are chiefly
referred to in the following lists.

The species belonging to the large class of compound
flowers, including nearly the whole of the class Syngtjneiiia
of Linnreus, are very numerous. Of these, several are in-
troduced at present into our ilowergardens ; such are
Echmofis sfitucrnce/ihiilins, globe thistle; Onn}wrdon Illij-
ncMW, woolly thistle; Car/ina corymdrjsa, raccmosa, and Za-
vala, all three species of the Carline thistle, and natives of
Provence; yhraclylis canceUata, disiafl' thistle; several
species of Cfulaiirea, among others C bcricdicfa, blessed
thistle ; Santollna iiicana, lavender cotton ; ylrtemisiariifies-
tris, mountain southernwood ; and .4. abrotanum, common
southernwood ; both of them plentiful on the rocks of Dau-
piiiny and Provence. Tu.-i>>ilago and Cacalia alfiina, alpine
colts-foot, and cacalia, abounding on the mountainous fron-
tiers of Savoy and Piedmont ; Catananche cxrulea and lu.-
tea, blue and yellow lion's foot; Aster al/iinus and amellus)
Michaelmas daisy. A few esculent vegetables that grow
wild in Languedoc and Provence, but arc cultivated in our
kitchen-gardens, arrange themselves under this class; for
instance, Cynara scolymus,aviic[iokc ; Tiaffo/ioffon/wrrifo-
lium, salsafy; and Scorzonera Hin/ianica, scorflbnera. Two
or three are used in medicine, such as Tanaceeiigmdalsami-
la, costmary ; Arnica ?nonlana, leopard's bane ; Anthemis
}iyrethrum, pellitory of Spain, found in the neighbourhood
of Montpellier.

The cucumber, the melon, the gourd, and other kindred
genera, though cultivated largely, and with great ease, in
the south of France, are yet natives of hotter climates :
only one of this natural family, the Momordica e/aterium,
squirting cucumber, properly belongs to the French flora:
it occurs in a truly wild state, on low loose rocks, in Pro-
vence and Languedoc.

Of the ringent or galiated plants, numerous species are
natives of France, not many of which, however, have found
their way into English gardens. The following are almost
the whole that are in any request for their beauty, or use,
all of which are natives of Languedoc, Provence, or Dau-
phiny. Acanthus sfiinosus and mollis, prickly and smooth
Acanthus ; Antirrhinum Monsjiessulanum, Montpellier
snap-dragon ; F edicularis Jiammea and incarnata, lousewortj
Orig-ami/n Creticuin, Cretan oi'igany ; Melissa officinalis^
baum ; I/ysso/ius officinalis, garden hyssop ; Lavandula
stachas, spike lavender; Rosmarinus officinalis, rosemary j.
and Salvia officinalis, garden sage.

The nearer, in general, any country is situated to the
tropics, the greater is the abundance and beauty of the bul-
biferous or liliaceous plants that inhabit it. The south of
France is particularly rich in these splendid and fragrant
vegetables, several of which have been naturalized in our
gardens, and constitute their prhicipal ornament. Of the
genus Allium, garlic, no less than 36 species are natives of
France, several of which have been admitted, for their
beauty, into English flower gardens; oftliesethe A.Mons-
ficssulanum, Montpellier garlic, is perhaps the chief.
The large branched T^s^^hoAe.], Anfihodelus ramosus, a flower
ol great beauty and poetic fame, is by no means uncom-
mon in Provence. Hc7nerocallisfulva, tawny day lily ; Hy-
acinthus botryoides, clustered hyacinth ; Ornithogatum fiy-
ramidale, spiked star of Bethlem, are all fount! 'm the iVIe-
(Uterranean provinces of France, as are also Lilium bulbi-
ferum, fiomfionium, and martagon, the orange, pompadore,
and m,iriagon lilies; Eryrhronium dens canis, dog's tooth
violet ; Bulbococlium vernum, vernal bulbocodium ; Fera-
trum album, white hellebore; A'arcissus /loeticus, and
jomjuilla, narcissus and jonquil. The shore of Hieres is
adorned by the Pancratium maritimum, sea daffodil, grow-
ing luxuriantly on the very beach.

Allied to the bulbiferous, are the tuberous rooted plants,
with sword-shaped leaves, several species of which are
3 E 2

404

FRANCE.

found in France. Tlic most beautiful and worthy of no-
tice, arc, Gladiolus communis, corn flag, abundant in the
cultivated lands of the middle and southern provinces;
the Jris Gcrmanica, large purple fleur dc lis, in Alsace
and on the German frontier ; and Iris fnimila, and 7naritima,
dwarf and sea fleur dc lis, two elegant lilllc plants, that
are occasionally met with in Provence and Languedoc.

Of the papilionaceous plants that are natives of this
country, several deserve notice for their lise or ornament.
Lathyrus tuberostii; a vegetable of the pea kind, grows
wild in Alsace, and is cultivated in many parts of Trance,
for its large, esculent, tuberous roots ; Lu/iimts varius, the
gieat lupin, varying with blue, while, or flesh-coloured
blossoms ; and Cictr aricUnum, chick pea, are met with in
the southern provinces, growing spontaneously, but are
more frequently cultivated in large fields, as food both for
cattle and man. In England, the former is considered
merely as an ornamental plant, and is found in every flower
garden. Trigonclla fenumgrecum, fenugreek, esteemed
for its medicinal virtues ; and Astragalus tragacant/ia,
tragacanth #tch, so named from the gum it yields, are
both natiw^ of Provence and the vicinity of Monlpellicr.
Many of our most ornamental shrubs belong to this class,
such as Cytisus laburnum, great laburnum ; C nigricans,
black cytisus ; Colutta arboresccns, bladder senna ; Ana-
gyria fxlida, stinking bean, trefoil; and Sjiarlium junctum,
Spanish broom.

Several succulent plants, of the same natural class with
the Sedum, are found on the dry rocks on the Spanish and
Swiss frontiers, of which a few havts been introduced into
our gardens, viz. Sedum anacam/iseros, and villosu/ii, ever-
green arpine, and hairy sedum ; Semjierxrivum gtobiferum,
and arachnoideum, hen and chicken sedum, and cobweb
sedum.

The class Pcnlandria of Linnaeus contains several well
known plants that occur native in France, some of which
have been introduced into our gardens and shrubberies ;
such are Primula vitlosa, and awicula, hairy primrose, and
auricula ; Androsace maxima, and carnea, greater and flesh-
coloured androsace, all found wild on the mountains of
Provence ; J.onicera carulea, blue-berried honeysuckle ;
Lycium Eurofixum, box thern ; jYerium oleander, rosebay
oleander; Cam/ianula grandijlora, and sfieculum, great-
flowered campanula, and Venus' looking glass ; Rhaimius
fialiurus, and alatcrnus, Christ's thorn, and alaternus ; Ta-
Diarix Gallica, and Gcrmanica, German and French tama-
risk. Others of this class deserve notice for their use in
various arts, and in medicine, as Pistachia terebinthus, the
turpentine tree; P. lentiscus, mastic tree ; Celtis auslralis,
nettle tree; Rhamnus infectorius, the berries of which arc
used in dyeing, by the name of French berries, or graines
d' Avignon ; Anchusa tinctoria, alkanet, another dyeing
drug; Rhus cotimis, ZTid. coriai-ea, common and Venetian
suma':;h, the most powerful vegetable astringents, and
largely applied to leather dressing and dyeing ; Salsola soda,
glasswon, a plant growing on the shore of the IMediierra-
nean, from which the barilla of commerce is prepared.
Some esculent plants also belong to this class, which, if
not strictly natives of France, have at least been long natu-
ralized to the soil and climate; these are Ceratojiia siligua,
carob-tree ; Pistachia A'arbotiensis, pistachia nut tree;
Rhamnus zizyjihus, jujube tree.

But few species of the French flora need be mentioned
under the class Dccandria. The fraxinella, Dictamnus al-
bus ; the yellow and Narbonne flax, Litium Jia-uum, and
A'arboiiense ; the sweet William, Deptford pink, and car-
nation, Z>;anf/iiis AarAa/i^s, nrm^nn, and caryojihyllus ; the
ferruginous rhododendron, R.ferrugineum ; and the straw-
berry saxifrage, Saxifraga cutylcdorty are adopted into our

flower gardens ; the rue, ruta graveolena ; and slorax rue,
Htyrax officinalis, the former a native, the other naturalized
at Hicres, are used in medicine.

Many of the most beautiful plants of the classes Polyan-
rfria and Icosundria, are to be met witii wild in France;
such are Chctidonium corniculatum, scarlet horned poppy ;
PaoJiia oj/icinalis, and tenuifolius, common and narrow
leaved peony; Ranunculus aconiiifolius,Ti\o\in\.?i.\n ranuncu-
lus; Adonis aulumnalis, aslivalis, and vcrnatis, pheasant
eye; Thalictrum aguilegifolium, feathered columbine;
A(juilegia at/iina, mountain cohmibinc ; J\''igvlla darnascena,
and arvensis, fennel flower ; HelUborus niger, and hycmalis,
Christmas rose, and winter aconite ; Anemone al/iina, hor-
tensis and hc/ialica, alpirie and scarlet anemone, and hepati-
ca ; Del/ihinium datum, bee larkspur ; Aconitum la/ieltus,
monkshood. Several trees and shrubs, both ornamental
and useful, also arrange themselves inider one or other of
these classes. Myrtus communis, the broad leaved myrtle,
grows with great luxuriance along the whole of the Me-
diterranean coast. Cafifiaris ajiinosa, the caper hush ; Cis-
lus laurifolius, and Monsfieliensis, the laurel-leaved and
Montpellicr cistus, three low shrubs of exquisite beauty, '
hang from the summits, or cluster round the sides, of the
low rocks about Toulon and Montpellier. In the same vi-
cinity also, are fomid Rosa gallica, the Provence rose ;
Mesfiilas jiyracantha, the pyracanlha ; VL\(!i Punica grana-
tutn, the pomegranate tree.

A few trees and shrubs remain to be mentioned, which
will be moi<5 conveniently taken together than separated
into their botanical classes. These are Quercus agUo/is,
and Cerris, the greater and less prickly-cupped oak, two
very fiae species that are found in plenty about Paiis and
Fontainebleau ; Quercus coccifera, Suber, and Ilex, the
kermes oak, cork tree, and evergreen flax, growing chiefly
in the southern provinces ; Junijierus sabina, Oxycedrus,
and Phxnicea, the savine, the brown and yellow berried ju-
niper ; Osyris alba, poet's cassia ; Phillyrea latifolia, and
anguslifolia, btoad and narrow leaved phillyrea ; and Erica
arborea, tree heath; all of them natives of Dauphine, Pro-
vence, and Languedoc. ■*

Among the rare plants which the Pyrenees afford, may
be noticed the following : Ranunculus glacialis ; R. fiar-
nassifolius ; Androsace aretia, (probably Carnea of Lin-
naeus); Da/ihne calycina ; Saxifraga long.folia, znd Arena-
riafruticulosa. The plants found naturally growing on the
best meadows in France, are exactly the same as those
which grow in the best meadows of Great Britain, viz.
Lathyrus firatensis ; Achillea millifolium ; Trifolium fira-
tense ; Trifotiam rcjienp, ; Planlago lanceolala ; wedicago
lufiulina, this is indigenous over the whole kingdom of
France ; Medicago Arabica fiolymorjiha ; Lotus cornicula-
tus ; Poterium sanguisorba. To these may be added ano-
ther plant, found amply in the richest meadows in the south
of France, and, what is remarkable, indigenous to Eng-
land on poor land, the Cicoryum intybus.

The botany of the singular desert of La Crau may be
cursorily noticed ; on it the Absinthiujn and Lavender grow,
but so low and poor, as scarcely to be recognized. There
are also the Centaurea calycitrafia and solstitialia, and
Eryngium. Where this desert is watered, however, clover,
chicory, rib-grass, and avena elatior flourish.

III. The zoology of France, so far as it regards the do-
mesticated animals, will be afterwards given; and on the
other animals we must be very brief, confining ourselves,
indeed, to the notice only of a very few. Bears are by no
means uncommon in the vicinity of the Pyrenees, and Alps
of Dauphiny. There are both sorts, carnivorous and ve-
getable eaters ; the latter are more mischievous than the

l^RANCE.

405

tbrmer, though not so dreadlul, coming down in the night
and eating the corn, particularly buck-wlicat and maize ;
and they are so nice in choosing; the sweetest cars of the
latter, tliat they trample and spoil infinitely more than they
eat. The carnivorous bears wage war against the cattle
and slieep : they attack the former by leaping on their
backs, wiien they force the head to the ground, and thrust
their paws into the body in the violence of a dreadful hug.
There arc many hunting days every year for destroying
them, several parishes joining for that purpose. A bear
never ventuies to attack a wolf; but several wolves to-
gether, when hungry, will attack ajid kill a bear. Wolves
are very common in difi'erent parts of France, and very de-
structive to the sheep. The wild boar is also found in some
parts of this kingdom. The ibex, rock-goat, or bouquetin
(or bouctain, from houc-, a goat, because they resemble
goats,) are found in the Pyrenees, and in the Alps of Dau-
phiny. They are of a grey colour, with very long and
strong horns. On the mountains of Volni, near Rochc-
courte, in the mountains of Dauphiny, thecharnoisis found,
of the antelope class. The Bcccajico, and the Cicala, of
the Italians, are not uncominon in the southern provinces
of France. The^ C'ira/o never ceases making its peculiar
and disagreeable noise, from sun-rise to sun-set. The
noise it makes is said not to proceed from its throat, but
from two membranes underneath the wings towards the
tail, wich it fills with wind, and blows like bellows. It is
certain, if the animal be quiet, on touching the tail it im-
mediately begins making its noise again. In this part of
France, scorpions also are not uncommon. Of serpents
there are 1 1 species found in France. Among the animals
almost peculiar to this country, may be mentioned the Ves-
fteriilio serotina, Pifiistrtl/a, Barbastella, the Otis tetrax,
the Charadrius tuteus, &c.

CHAP. IV.

Agriculture of France.

Sect. \.-— State of Landed Prolicrtij, and Condition of the
Agricultural Ptfndation before and sfnce the Revolution —
Distribution of the Soil — Rent — Price — Inclosures — Im-
plements — Roads — Rotation of Crojis — Crops cultivated
— Harvest — Thrashing and treading out the Corn — Ma-
li ures — Irrigation .

Before the Revolution, agriculture in France was near-
ly in the same state in which it is still in almost every
country in continental Europe. About two-fifths of the
land susceptible of cultivation, were in what is termed cul-
ture and pasturage, and produced, on an average, about
one-half of what good culture, on the like quantity of the
same soil, would have produced.

If France has been in any respect benefitted by the Revo-
lution— if she can claim any permanent and general good
arising from it as a compensation and atonement for the phy-
sical and moral evils she has suffered and inflicted — that
benefit and good must be looked for in the state of her
landed property, and in the condition of her agricultural
population.

Before the Revolution, the land in France was held by
various tenures, almost all of which were decidedly and
extremely unfavourable to agriculture. The manor rents
of the clergy have been variously estimated. Condorcet,
in his Life of Turgot, gives it as his opinion, that the clergy
enjoyed near a fifth part of the property of the kingdom.
Ncckar calculated their revenue at 130,000,000 livres; but
it is probable that their manor rents may fairly be estima-

ted to have amounted to about 120 millions of Jivrcs, or
4,800,000/. sterling, exclusive of their tithes, which maybe
rated at about 3,600,000/. sterling. The domains of the
crown and of the princes of the blood, rented for about
1,200,000/. sterling; the feudal and honorary dues paid to
tlie nobility, with corvees, militia. Sec. amounted at least to
.'5, 000,000/. sterling. Besides, the government drew from
the produce of agriculture the sum of 8,000,000.'. sterling.
In short, it has been calculated, that, exclusive of the rents
of land paid to the lay- proprietors, and of the duties of ex-
cise, consumption, and the like, the produce of the soil was
charged annually with upwards of 21,000,000/. sterling.

But agriculture laboured under disadvantages still more
discouraging and oppressive, previously to the Revolution ;
to understand and estimate which, it will be proper to con-
sider the diflerent modes of occupying land which then ex-
isted, some of which, however, as we shall afterwards see,
still remain. In the first place, there were the small pro-
perties of the peasants. These were to be found every
where to a degree of which we have no conception in Eng-
land, and which we should not have expected in the midst
of the enormous possessions, and the oppressive privileges,
of the nobility and the clergy. Even in those provinces
where other tenures prevailed, they were to be found ; but
principally in Languedoc; Quercy, which now forms the
department of Lot ; the whole district of the Pyrenees,
Berne, Gascony, part of Guienne, Alsace, Flanders, and
Lorraine. The condition of the peasantry, who possessed
these small properties, varied much in different parts of
the kingdom. In Flanders, Alsace, on the Garonne, and
more particularly in Berne, they were in comfortable cir-
cumstances, and might rather be called farmers than cotta-
gers ; and in Lower Brittany many of them were rich ; but
this character could by no means be applied to them gene-
rally. In fact, the minute division of property had produ-
ced the effects which might be expected from it; and po-
verty and misery were too visible, especially in Lorraine,
and the parts of Champagne which are contiguous to it.

The second mode of possessing land, was by a money
rent. This, before the Revolution, was the general prac-
tice in Picardy, Normandy, part of Flanders, Artois, Isle of
France, and the Pays de Beauce. It also existed in some
of the southern districts of France, particularly in Berne,
and about Navareens, a townin the departnaent of the Low-
er Pyrenees. These tenures were also found in other parts
of France, scattered among those which were different and
predominant ; but, upon a moderate estimate, before the
Revolution, they did not exist in more than a sixth or a se-
venth of the kingdom.

F'eudal tenures were the third mode of occupying land.
They abounded most in Brittany, Limosin, Berry, La Man-
che, S<:c. but they were scattered in a greater or less de-
gree through the whole kingdom. These feudal tenures
were fiefs granted by the seigneurs of the parishes, under
a reservation of fines, quit rents, forfeitures, services, &c.
As they formed the most oppressive evil under which agri-
culture laboured previously to the Revolution, and from
which that event must certainly be allowed the merit of
having freed it, it may be proper to notice some of them.
Even to enumerate the whole of these oppressions would
far exceed our limits ; and indeed, the English language
does not supply terms by which many of them can be ex-
pressed.

Among the more mild and tolerable of these feudal te-
nures, may be mentioned the obligation the tenant was un-
der, of grinding his corn at the mills of the seigneur only ;
of pressing his grapes at his press only ; of baking his
bread in his oven. The peasantry in Brittany were obli-
ged to beat the waters in marshy districts, to keep the frogs

406

FR/VNCE.

silent, in order that the lady of the seigneur, dui-ing her
lying-in, might not be distuil)ecl by their noise. In short,
every pelly oppression which couUI tender the lives of the
peasantry niiscral)le, or interfere with the operations ol
agriculture, was authorised by these feudal ttnmes ; though
it must be confessed, that, before the Revolution, some of
the seigneurs, convinced of their injustice as well as impo-
licy, forebore to exact Ihem. Nor were the oppressions
of the feudal tenures tlie only ones to which agriculture
was exposed. There were numerous edicts for preserving
the game, which prohibited weeding and hoeing, lest the
young partridges should be disturbed; steeping seed, lest
it should injure the game; inaiuuing with night soil, lest
the flavour of the parliidges should be injured, by feeding
on the corn so produced ; mowing hay before a certain
time, so late as to spoil many crops ; and taking away the
stubble, which would deprive the birds of shelter. These
were oppressions, to which all the tenants of land, as well
as those who held under feudal tenures, and even the pro-
prietors of land, in many cases, were exposed. The latter,
indeed, were dreadfully tormented by what were called the
Ca/iitainries, which, as affecting them in some measure, as
the feudal tenures affected the farmers, may be noticed un-
der this head. By this term was to be understood, the par-
amountship of certain districts, granted by tlie king to
princes of the blood, by wliieh they were put in possession
of the property of all game, even on lands which did not
belong to them, and even on manors granted long before to
individuals; so that by this paramountship all manorial
rights were annihikitcd. The privileges thus conferred,
W( re most grievous and oppressive ; for by game was un-
derstood, whole droves of wild boars, and herds of deer not
confined, but wandering over the whole country, to the des-
truction of the crops; and if any person presumed to kill
them, he was liable to be sent to the gallies. It may ea-
sily be conceived, that the minute vexations, as well as the
more prominent tyrannies, to which the feudal tenures gave
rise, would occasion frequent disputes between the seig-
neur and his tenants; but the latter preferred submitting
to them, rather than appealing to the decision of judges,
who were absolutely dependant on the seigneurs.

We may here also notice the corvees, as one of the taxes
peculiarly oppressive and injurious to agriculture, though
not confined to ^he tenure we are now considering. By the
corvees, individuals were obliged to mend the roads by
their personal labour; hence it is evident that this tax must
have fallen exclusively on the poor ; or if it was performed
by those who kept labourers, it must have deprived them
of the means of fully attending to their agricultural opera-
tions. This tax was not only impolitic, in so much as it
placed the repair of the roads under the care of those who
were totally destitute of the little skill requisite for such a
task, but it was an easy engine of oppression ; for, under
the pretence that the work might be done without inter-
ruption, those who were liable to the cor-vee had it frequent-
ly allotted to them at some leagues from their habitations.
Besides these corvees, which were an oppression to agri-
culture over the whole of France, there were the military
corvees, which fell only on the villages lying in the route
of the troops; the inhabitants of which were obliged to
leave their occupation, however inconvenient and injurious
it might be, and repair the roads along which the soldiers
were to travel. Such are a few of the oppressions under
which agriculture in France laboured, previously to the
Revolution, arising either from the feudal tenures, or from
the more general operation of the laws and measures of
government, the privileges of the nobility and clergy, and
ilie usages of the country.

The fourth mode of occupying land, resembled that

which is comnion in Ireland, and which i;^ there complain
ed of as a great grievance, and as the source of much mi-
sery and oppression. Men possessed of some property,
hired great tracts of land at a money rent, and relet it in
small divisions to metayers, who paid half the produce.
This mode of occupying land was most common in Lu
Manche, Berry, Poitou, and Angoumois, but it was also
met witli in other provinces.

The last tenure was tliat of the metayer. These, who
are a species of farmers that gradually succeeded to the
slave cultivatory of ancient times, and who, in Latin, arc
called cohiii /lartiarii, have been so long in disuse in Eng-
land, that there is no Englisli name for them. They may
be generally described, as supplying the labour necessary
to cultivate the land, while the proprietor furnished them
with the seed, cattle, and instruments of husbandry, and, iji
short, the whole stock necessary for cultivating the farm.
The common agreement was, that the produce should be
equally divided between the ))roprietor and farmer, after
setting aside what was necessary for keeping up the stock,
which was restored to the proprietor, when the farmer
either quitted, or was turned out of his farm.

Before the Re volution, seven-eighths of the lands in France
were held under this tenure. It pervaded almost every
part of Sologne, Berry, La Manche, Limosin, Anjou, Bur-
gundy, Bourbonnois, Nivernois, Auvergne, Sec. and was
found in Brittany, Maine, Provence, and all the southern
districts. In general, the half of the produce was paid to
the proprietor; but in Champagne only a third. There
were also other variations: in some parts, the proprietor
found half the cattle and seed, and the metayer the labour
and implements, besides paying the taxes; the last, in
other districts, were partly paid by the proprietor. In
Normandy, a singular species of this tenure prevailed, viz.
on the farms which the proprietors kept in their own hands.

It is scarcely necessary to point out the miserable state
of agriculture, which must exist in a country where the
system of metaying prevails. In the first place, it proves
a lamentable deficiency of agricultural capital ; and, in the
second place, it has a manifest tendency to perpetuate this
evil, and to keep the tenant in the lowest state of depen-
dence, misery, and poverty. In some parts of France, the
metayers were so poor, and consequently so dependent on
their landlords, that they were almost evei-y year obliged
to borrow from them their bi-ead, before the harvest came
round.

Such were the tenures of land before the Revolution.
Let us now enquire what effects that event has produced
on them, and on the condition of the agricultural class in
genei-al.

In the first place, the number of small properties have
been considerably increased in all parts of France. The
national domains, which consisted of the confiscated estates
of the church and emigrant nobility, were exposed to sale
during the pecuniary distresses of the revolutionary go-
vernment. For the accommodation of the lowest order of
purchasers, they were divided into small portions, and five
years were allowed for completing the payment. In con-
sequence of this indulgence, and of the depreciation of as-
signats, the pooi-est classes of the peasantry were enabled
to become proprietors, possessing from one to ten acres.
They support themselves by cultivating these, and by la-
bouring, at the same time, for the. neighbouring farmers.
The number of small properties has also increased from
another cause, since the Revolution. Before that event,
it seems to have been the law, or at least the invariable
custom, in some parts of France, to divide the landed pro-
perty among all the children. This local law, or custom,
was extended, soon after the Revolution, to the whole king-

FRANCE.

407

liom ; so that, by the present law of France, land, on the
death of a proprietor, is divided, by the law itself, among
lus children. The deplorable consequences which must
ultimately result from this division ancl subdivision of little
properties, in a country like France, already so fully ap-
propriated, need not be pointed out ; they are sufficiently
obvious. We content ourselves with stating the fact, as
illustrating one mode in which the tenure of landed pro-
perty has been affected by the Revolution.

In the second place, hiring at money rent is much more
general since the Revolution; and if France continues qui-
et, and recovers from the injurious consequences of the
Revolution, it may reasonably be expected that this species
of tenure will become more and more prevalent.

In the third place,' feudal tenures are done away, as well
as tythes, game laws, corvees. Sec. In some parts, however,
the tenants, by their covenants with their landlords, are
still bound to perform some services, but by the law, they
must be entirely of an agricultural description.

In the fourth place, the two other species of tenure, that
is, monopoly, where men of property hired great tracts of
land at a money-rent, and relet it in small divisions, and the
system of metaying, still exist, though not nearly to such
an extent, or in such an oppressive and ruinous form, as
before the Revolution. Indeed, when we consider that
these species of tenure were the unavoidable and necessary
consequences of inadequate agricultural capital, we cannot
expect that they should be abolished by the mere opera-
tion of law, or by the direct effects of any revolution, how-
ever wisely planned and carried into execution. If, how-
ever, we find that they gradually die away, which seems to
be the case, we may safely and rationally maintain, that the
Revolution, besides the direct benefits which it has bestow-
ed on agriculture, by the abolition of feudal tenures, and
partial and oppressive taxes, has indirectly proved advan-
tageous to this first of all arts, by placing in the hands of
those who pursue it more adequate capital.

Such are the benefits which the Revolution has con-
ferred on the agriculture of France, and which have mani-
fested themselves, notwithstanding the military despotism
which, after exhausting and weakening her for the pur-
pose of enslaving the continent of Europe, has at length
brought down upon her a just retribution for her too ready
acquiescence in its schemes. These, however, are only
partial and temporary evils ; and we may confidently pre-
dict, that when they are passed away, the agriculture of
F'rance, which, from her excellent climate and easily work-
ed soil, must always be the staple branch of her national
industry, and the principal source from which she must
draw her political influence and military power, will be
found to have come out from the ordeal purified and refin-
ed, and the condition of her agricultural population in every
respect greatly ameliorated.

It is not easy to ascertain the distribution of the land in
France. According to Mr Young, there are of arable
land 70,noO,000 acres ; under the culture of the vine
5,000,000 i in woods 19,850,000 ; in meadow and rich pas-
turage 4,000 000 acres ; under lucerne, sainfoin, &c.
5,000.000 ; and the pastures and wastes occupy 27,150,000 ;
thus making a total of 131,000,000 acres. This estimate,
however, as far as respects the number of acres under
■wood, is certainly over-rated, though Mr Young on this
point follows the authority of Mr Neckar ; for a committee
of the first National Assembly stated the whole extent of
territory covered with wood at 13,100,691 arpents, of 100
perches of 28 square French feet each ; whereas, accord-
ing to Mr Neckar and Mr Young, it amounted to 22,289,015
arpents. The general occupation of the land in the north-
ern provinces of France, may be conceived, from the fol-

lowing account of the distribution of a small commune.
Woods and meadows in the occupation of the proprietor,
250 acres ; two farms let, keeping two ploughs each, to-
gether eight horses, 300 acres; 10 freeholders, keeping
one plough each, together 20 horses, 750 acres ; 28 free-
holders,-keeping no horses, occupying 250 acres ; in all,
1550 acres, of which 1300 were arable. These are dis-
tributed as follows : under fallow 433, under wheat 433,
under oats 433. Those who have no ploughs pay 40
francs (33s. 4d.) per acre to their neighbours for the team
labour of the whole course, viz. four ploughings on the
fallow, and one ploughing for oats ; four loads of dung per
acre carted on the fallow, and the harvest carting. Those
proprietors who possess no ploughs are labourers, and in
general work for the person who performs the ploughing
of their land. The number of acres ploughed in this com-
mune annually is 2165, or about 7i acres per day for 14
ploughs, leaving sufficient time for harrowing, harvest, and
the carting of dung.

The rent of land is low in most parts of France. Be-
fore the Revolution, the rent of the arable and lucerne land
was averaged by Mr Young at I5s. 7d. ; of the woods at
12s. ; of the vineyards at S/. : 16 : 6 ; of the meadows at
2/.: 3: 9; and the wastes at Is. 9d. At present, extremely
good land in Normandy may be got for 30s. per acre ; 18s.
and 20s. are more common. In other districts, it is even
very much lower. The price of land of course is pro-
portionally low. Before the Revolution, the average price
of all the cultivated land in the kingdom, was estimated
by Mr Young at 20/. the English acre. In 1814, Mr Birk-
beck mentions an estate near Cosne of 1000 acres arable,
and 500 wood land, let on lease for nine years for 375^.
sterling, which might be bought for 22 years' purchase,
or 8333/. It is proper to add, however, that one-third of
the arable land of this farm was poor cold clay, of little
value ; two-thirds pretty good wheat land ; part dry enough
for turnips. In 1807, Mr Pinckney states, that the ave-
rage rents. from Paris to Maine were about I5s. the En-
glish acre ; and the purchase from 15/. to 18/. The value
of lands in the vine districts of France, is much higher,
amounting on an average to upwards of 60/. per acre, ac-
cording to some authors; but others rate it only at 41/.
per acre. The size of farms is in general small ; few,
even in Normandy and the other provinces where agri-
culture is conducted on the best plan, and with the great-
est capital and skill, reaching 300 acres. With respect
to the capital employed by the farmers, Mr Young cal-
culated it on an average of the whole kingdom, not to
exceed 40s. per acre. In this, however, he was probably
much mistaken. At any rate, at present, the average must
be much higher. In French Flanders, it is calculated
that a farm of about 250 English acres will require a capi-
tal of upwards of 1500/. sterling, or about 6/. 5s. per En-
glish acre. In this estimate, the live-stock is supposed to
cost 716/. : 16: 8 ; of which 15 horses at 16/. : 13 : 4 each,
14 milch cows at 9/. each, and ISO sheep at 17s. Sd. each,
form the chief articles. The instruments of husbandry
form the next division of this estimate, and amount to 13S/.
Of these the large waggon is rated at upwards of 45/. ; and
the lighter waggons, of which there are three, at nearly
20/.; four ploughs at 2/. 10s. each, besides a Dutch plough
at 2/. : 12 : 6 ; the harrows, all of wood, at 8s. 4d. each.
The third branch of the estimate is the servants' wages
for 15 months The number is eight; three plouglimen,
one man to take care of the young horses, a shepherd,
two women, and a swineherd ; their wages, one with
another, being 4/. : 1 1 : 8 per annum each. The wages of
the labourers are rated at from 8d. to Is per day. The
maintenance of the 15 plough horses and 10 young horses

408

FRANCE.

for 15 months, is estimated at about 150/. It is probable
that capital to the same amount is required in the other
parts ot France, where aj^ricnlturc is well uudcr.stood, and
carried on with spirit and success. In the other disiricls,
where it is far behind, of course the capital will be much
less.

The prevailing opinion, that France is entirely an open
country, is very erroneous. It is certainly much less in-
closed than England. All Brittany, the western part of
Normandy, and the norlhcrn part of that province as far
as the Seine, most of Anjou and Maine, Lower Foitou,
Touraine, Sologne, Berry, Liniosin, the Bourbonnois, and
a great part of Nivcrnois, part of Auvergne, and Quercy,
are inclosed. The whole district of the I'yrenecs is thickly
inclosed. This district of country comprehends 11,000
square leagues; so that if the other parts of France tliat
are inclosed be added, they will raise the total to a full
half of the kingdom. But though so large a p<>rtion is in-
closed, the inclosures in general are ill planned, and badly
kept ; and their value and utility so little understood, that
the same rent is given for inclosed and open fields, pro-
vided both are arable. Perhaps the province of Berne
exhibits more attention to the proper management of in-
closures than most other districts of France. There is
not a county in England closer, thicker, or belter inclosed ;
and, what is uncommon in F'rance, the gates and stiles are
in good order. Commons are not met with in F'rance, at
least not in the same sense in which they occur in Eng-
land ; but common fields abound, and they are cursed
with all the mischievous consequences which attend them
in England, such as rights of common pasturage com-
mencing on given days when under corn, and throughout
the fallow year. There is a great deal of common field
land in Ficardy, Artois, part of Normandy, the Isle of
France, Brie, the Pays de Bcauce, and along the whole
course of the Loire. In this last district, the farmeis arc
in the practice of making an exchange with the poor, who
have the right of common pasturage. This they buy off,
assigning an acre or more to every cottage in the parish.

It is a singular circumstance, that some of the poorest
and least improved provinces, are precisely those which
are best and most generally inclosed : hence it is easy to
perceive, that the mere existence of inclosures is not in
France, as in England, a proof of the advancing state of
agriculture. The chief cause of new inclosures in France,
is, that the communities in many parishes, in different
parts of the kingdom, and more especially in the vicinity
of the Pyrenees, being proprietors of the wastes, sell them
to any person who applies for the property, in absolute
assignment ; in consequence of which, the purchaser has
the power of inclosure : whereas, in the waste plains of
Brittany, Anjou, Maine, and Guienne, the seigneurs are
the sole and absolute proprietors, and they will not sell,
but only feu their estates. Hence the waste lands remain
unchanged and unimproved. The government of France,
before the Revolution, took some measures to enforce or
facilitate a general inclosure with respect to some of the
provinces, more particularly with regard to Lorraine, in
1764 and 1765 ; but the popular objections and prejudices
agoinst inclosures, had sucli weight, that at the com-
mencement of the Revolution, strong remonstrances v/eve
presented against them, and certainly the proportion of
inclosed land has not considerably increased since that
event.

The agricultural implements in general use in France
arc very rude and imperfect in principle as well as in con-
struction ; the ploug'i in most parts is almost entirely of
wood, and scratches and pushes forward die soil, instead
of penetrating to any depth, or turning it over. In the

vicinity of the Pyrenees, a light imperfect plough, similar
to what the Romans used, and drav.n by a pair of weak
cows, is not uncommon. In the neighbourhood of Tou-
louse, a better plough is seen, of pretty good construction,
to which two strong oxen aie yoked, the ploughman driv-
ing them by means of a long staff, that answers the double
purpose of a goad and a pad'de. The use of oxen in the
plough is pretty general in France, and they are yoked in
a diii'erent manner from what is practised in England: A
piece of wood, of about l-6iii of the weight of an Englisii
yoke, is put across the forehead of the cattle, the extremi-
ties of which are neatly hollowed out, so as to fit the mould
of the head, .md the hollows lined vviih a piece of woolly
sheep skin, to answer the purpose of a soft pad or cushion.
This light and easy yoke is braced to the horns with a
small thong of leather, to the middle of which the beam
of the plough is attached : the animals are tims completely
equipped for their labour. It seldom happens that more
than two oxen are yoked in a plough. In the north of
I" ranee, as well as in some of the eastern, western, and
middle provinces, horses are more commonly used than
oxen ; generally two horses, but in some instances three.
Besi^les the plough that is used for the general purposes
of agriculture, in several disiricis, both in the north and
south of the kingdom, a little plough called a binot is em-
ployed, principally for the purposes of fallowing and des-
troying the weeds. In some respects the binol resembles
a plough, with a double or scuffler share, and two mould
boards, but it has no coulter. In the French Netherlands,
where agriculture is carried on in a regular and systematic
manner, some farmers have three binots to eight ploughs,
some two binots to five ploughs, and some two to four
ploughs. Only one ploughman and two horses are em-
ployed ; the furrow which it makes is from five to six
inches in depth. Its operation is different from that of the
common plough, since it does not turn over the land, but
elevates it into small ridges, by wliich means the weeds
are exposed to the action of the frost and of the dry
weather. After the binot, the land is always ploughed
for the seed furrows. The harrows, in general use, are
equally imperfect in principle and construction with the
ploughs, and have always wooden teeth. In most parts of
France rollers are unknown, and their use is supplied by
a plank, on which a boy rides over the land. Their carts
and waggons display equal ignorance of mechanical prin-
ciples, being in general of enormous length ; the carts
which are used for the carriage of goods, are not above
two-thirds so wide, and certainly two-thirds longer than
those in England ; they travel in large companies, fre-
quently 16, 18, or 20, in a string together, especially in
the south-east of France, each drawn by a single horse,
with about half a dozen drivers attending them. The c/ia-
relte, or cart in common use, consists principally of two
parts — the carriage and the body ; the carriage part is very
simple, being composed of two long shafts of wood, about
20 feet in length, connected tegether by cross bars, so as
to form the bed ; on this the boards are laid, as occasion
• may require : in the same manner, the sides, a front and
back, may be added at pleasure. The axle and wheels
are in llie usual place and form. The moveable body is
fixed on this carriage ; it consists of a similar frame work,
of two shafts, connected by cross bars. 'I'his body moves
upon an axletree, and extending some feet beyond the car-
riage behind, it is let down with ease to recover its load,
while the body, moving on a pivot, or axle, is easily pur-
chased up from before.

In France, before the Revolution, and even since that
event, the construction and repair of the roads is entirely
lodged with the government. The great military roads',

FRANCE.

409

especially that over the Simplon, arc excellent, with re-
spect to l!ic principle oi> wjiich they are conslructed, the
luatcrials of wiuch they arc formed, and the whole of their
execution. But the roads whicli were not necessary lor
military purposes have in many places been circatly ne-
glected, although it was stated, in the year 1806, by the
iiiiaister oi' finance, that more tban thirty-five millions of
francs were annually requisite for the reparation ol the
ropds and public works. In 1809, a collection of laws
was printed regarding the management of the roads; in
which a law ])assed in the lime of the Repul)lic, for esta-
blishing the use of broad cylindrical wheels, is strongly
enforced. According to this law, the wlieels of heavy
waggons were to be nine inches three lines broad ; and
they are allowed to carry only a certain weight, which
varies during the five winter and seven summer months.
It was also enacted, that in those parts of the kingdom
where the roads were paved, the passing upon the pave-
ment should be suspended during those seasons when they
were likely to be injured, and the side roads alone should
be used. The weight allowed to be carried was not only
to vary in winter and summer, but also according to the
form of the wheels ; and, in order to enforce this law,
weighing engines were to be erected, and the owners of
carriages exceeding the legal weights were declared liable
to severe fines. But these laws have been very partially
enforced ; so that some of the best roads in Fraiice, under
the old government, have fallen into complete disrepair.
This has been very particularly the case with the famous
chausee of Languedoc, which begins at Villcneuve, whence
it crosses the whole province. The cross roads have suf-
fered still more than the main roads since the Revolution;
and both have suffered more in the atlantic departments,
than in any other districts of France. Throughout the
whole department of Finisterre, the cross roads are in a
most wretched state. The roads, in several respects, dif-
fer from the roads in England ; they are generally broad,
always straight, paved, and planted on both sides with ches-
nut trees, poplars, wahuit, mulberry, and other fruit trees.
There are 28 principal roads from Paris to the boundaries
of the kingdom. Turnpike gates and tolls have been es-
tablished since the Revolution, at the distance of five kilo-
meters from each other.

The state of agriculture in any country may generally
be pretty well ascertained from the rotation of crops which
is pursued : If these are conducted on good principles, the
agriculture can scarcely be very bad; on the contrary, if
bad rotations are pursued, agriculture has made very tri-
fling advances towards perfection. If we judge of France
according to this rule, we shall decide, that, though over by
far the greatest part of the kingdom agriculture is in a mi-
serable state, yet in some parts it is well understood and
flourishing.

We have already mentioned the divisions of France into
districts, according to the nature of the soil ; we shall now
note the principal rotations pursued in each district. In
the district of rich loam, two rotations principally prevail,
according to one of which, in Flanders and part of Artois,
there is no fallow, but a constant succession of crops. The
most approved and productive rotation is found between
Valenciennes and Lisle : it consists of wheat, and turnips
after it the same year ; oats, clover, wheat, hemp, wheat,
flax, coleseed, wheat, beans, wheat. In the provinces of
Picardy, Isle of France, Normandy, and the other parts of
Artois, the usual rotation was not in general so good, con-
sisting of fallow, wheat, and spring corn. In some parts of
Normandy, however, fallows are not known ; and in other
parts, especially between Dieppe and Rouen, where the
soil is a deep hazle mould upon chalk, fallow occurs only

Vol. IX. Part I.

once in six years; the rotation being fallow, wheat, pease,
vetches, flax, or rape seed : wheat, clover, oats. In the
rich plain of Alsace, 'the fields are never fallowed ; the fal-
low crops being potatoes, po))pies for oil, pease, mai7,e,
vetches, clover, beans, hemp, tobacco, and cabbages. In
the Limagne of Auvergne, one of the richest districts of
France, fallows arc partially used ; but the usual rotations,
in other respects, are so severe, that only such a soil and
climate could bear them ; it is not unusual to sow rye after
wheat, and wheat after rye. The latter grain is often sown
on their best land ; and wheat on theii' worst: a common
rotation is barley, rye, hemp, rye : wheat is grown also af-
ter beans: two crops in the year are not UJiusual.

As soon as ever the maize district of France is entered
upon, fallows disappear ; that grain being cultivated in such
a manner as to preclude the necessity of a fallow. In fhe
plain of the Garonne, the usual rotation is maize, wheat;
and here also is first found the culture of different species
of vetches, which are sown both in September and in the
spring ; and, together with hemp and maize, assist in ban-
islting fallows. Yet even in this highly favoured district,
rye is often grown where wheat might be cultivated with
advantage. Turnips are a second crop after wheat and rye.'
The culture of the white lupin is common here.

In the heath district great quantities of buck wheat are
grown, and in some parts parsnips : but broom is the great
object and source of profit; the common course being
broom sown with oats. The broom is fed for three or
four years, and then cut ; after it wheat is taken, then rye,
buck wheat, and oats, or broom. This last is cultivated for
fuel, as the district has neither coal nor wood. When the
land is exhausted by this mode of cropping, it is paired
and burned, abandoned, and by sometime recovered, that a
succession of crops may bring it once more into the same
situation.

In Gascony, the usual rotations are maize, wheat, and
turnips; maize, clover cut once, and then ploughed up for
maize again ; rye, millet, haricots or kidney-beans; raaize,
rye, millet ; and maize, rye, clover.

In the districts of the Pyrenees, where irrigation is prac-
tised with considerable skill, and on an extensive scale,
fallow is superseded by the culture of clover, millet, maize,
and haricots. Maize, however, is not cultivated in such
large quantities as in other parts. Two crops are gained
every year ; but where irrigation is not practised, the ground
is fallowed, and afterwards millet, haricots, or barley sown
for forage, before the wheat is put in. In Dauphiny, buck
wheat is sown on the wheat stubbles; and, such is the ear-
liness of the climate, that it is frequently in full blossom by
the end of August.

The rotation in the stony district is particularly distin-
guished by the introduction of potatoes in some parts of it,
as a preparation for wheat. Where this root is not culti-
vated on a large scale, and as a crop in regular rotation, the
common course is fallow-, wheat or rye, and barley or oats.
In the district of chalk the rotation is in general very bad.
In the province of Solognc it is fallow aiid rye : certainly
the very worst and most unprofitable that can be practised
on any land. In the district of gravel, especially in the
Bourbonnois and Nivernois, the same wretched iTJtation is
pursued. The district of various loams is chiefly distin-
guished by the introduction of turnips into the rotation ;
but, as we shall afterwards have occasion to remark, the
culture of this valuable root is ill understood in Frahce.

From this account of the most common rotations in va-
rious parts of France, it will be seen, that in general they
are conducted on very erroneous principles; and that,
even where they are good, the climate ought to have the
merit rather than the skill of the agriculturist. In the

410

FRxVNCE.

south of France, the cliinate enables him to take two crops
in the season. This advantage is, however, also tlerivcd in
French Flanders entirely through the attention and skill of
the farmer. The second crops in that district being carrots,
turnips, spurry, and yellow clover.

Tiie following, perhaps, will give a sufficiently precise
and clear view of the general rotations practised in France.
The arable land, that comprises nearly the whole of the
kingdom, with the exception of the vineyards, and a few-
tracts of mountain, may be divided into five classes, with
respect to fertility of soil. The first class bears a crop
every year, as in most parts of French Flanders, some parts
of Normandy, the Limagnc of Auvergne, the neighbour-
hood of Toulouse, and generally where maize is cultivat-
ed, or irrigation employed. The second class, which is
rather inferior in point of soil, but is still good land, is cul-
tivated with the intervention of a fallow once in six years,
as about Dieppe and Rouen particularly ; once in five years,
as in some parts of French F'landers, and in a few other
districts. The taird class of land, of middling quality,
■which embraces a large portion of the kingdom, is manag-
ed on the old plan, of fallow, wheat, oats, or barley. The
fourth, still poorer land, is fallow and wheat alternately ;
and the last class of land, where the soil is in general mi-
serably poor, is cultivated in the round of fallow, rye, rest
without grass seeds. As it is probable that the three last
classes of soil comprise half the cultivated surface, and as
half of them are fallow, it appears that one-fourth of the
whole country is lying in a state entirely unproductive.
The best husbandry in F'rance, then, is in the south and in
the north ; in the former, the goodness of the climate ena-
bles the agriculturist to raise maize and wheat alternately,
and to have second crops of millet, clover, lupins, &c. ; and
in the north, the skill of the agriculturist has, in a great
measure, banished fallow. On the whole, so far as respects
rotation of crops, French agriculture cannot be much prais-
ed ; and it will be seen, that the management of the prin-
diflal crops is in general not better conducted than the ro-
tation. Before, however, we proceed to notice the culture
of particular crops, it is proper to mention, that the applica-
tion of land to the crops best stiited to it is not well under-
stood. Even in many parts of Normandy, land that \yould
bear heavy crops of wheat is not unfrequently sown with
barley ; and rye in many parts is sown, where the soil is
admirably adapted for wheat. It not unfrequently happens,
too, that rye is sown along with wheat ; the consequence
of which is, that, as the former ripens three weeks or a
month sooner than the wheat, when the latter is reaped,
almost the whole of the former is shed and lost.

Different kinds of wheat are grown in France ; the prin-
cipal of which are the bearded wheat, various species of
the common winter wheat, and spring wheat. What in
England is called hedge wheat, where it is of comparative-
ly late introduction, has been long known in the north of
France, particularly at Calais, Lisle, and Dunkirk ; it is
known there by the name of pullet wheat [ble putlct,) or
white wheat, (plane bte,) and it is regarded as wheat of the
first quality. One of the best kinds of spring or summer
wheat known in France, is called ble Iremois ; the real
summer Svheat, triticum aslivuiri, — it is sown with success
so late as the end of May, and yields a large increase. The
straw, too, is excellent fodder. The produce of wheat in
France per acre is small : Even in the best cultivated dis-
tricts, and on the best soil, it cannot be averaged at more
than 18 or 20 bushels per English acre. In most places
it is reaped ; this operation being performed, like the other
agricultural operations in France, chiefly by women. In
other districts, however, it is mown : the whole process of
harvesting is very carelessly performed. In a good year,

in Picardy, 40 sheaves are calculated to produce a septier
of wheat of 2401b. The principal wheat districts of France,
arc French Flanders, Artois, Ficardy, parts of Normandy,
the Limagnc of Auvergne, part of Alsace, Sec. Bcauce, a
province which lies between the isle of France, Bloisois,
and Orleannois, and which now forms the department of
the Eure and Loire, is so extremely fertile of wheat as to
be called the Granary of Paris. The wheat of Narbonne
is in high repute for seed.

Harley is not extensively or judiciously cultivated in
France. There are two sorts : the one which the French
call square barley, or barley of autumn, because they sow it
in that season; the other is called spring barley: This is
the common sort sown in France ; they begin to sow it to-
wards the end of April. This grain is the common food in
many parts ; either made into bread by itself, or mixed
with wheat flour. It is also made into peeled barley :
the best peeled barley comes from Vitry-le-Fran9ois, a
considerable town in the department of Manic. Good
peeled barley is also made at Charenton, near Paris. Re-
•jpecting the culture of oats there is nothing that calls for
notice. Rye, as it may have been observed from the rota-
tions which have been specified, is very generally cultivat-
ed, principally for its grain, but in some places as green
food. In the latter way, the ridges of the wheat stubble
are split down, as early as possible after the crop is off the
ground, and rye is sown, which in April or May is cut for
the cattle ; and, if the weather proves favourable, in some
parts of France it is mown three times. The rye in France
is very liable to a disease called ergot, which seems to be
unknown here ; and which produces, in those who eat the
grain so affected, the most dreadful complaints. The ave-
rage produce of rye, when reaped, is very small, perhaps
not more than 15 or 16 bushels the English acre.

The annual produce of wheat, rye, barley, and oats,
which may be considered as the chief arable products of
France, has been differently estimated ; and, indeed, only
an approximation to the truth can be looked for on this ac-
count. According to Vauban, in his time, the annual pro-
duce of these grains was 59,175,000 septiers of 12 Paris
bushels, or 240 pou ids weight. According to Quesnay,
the father of the sect of the economists, it was 45,000,000
septiers. In the opinion of the Abbe d'Expilly, 78,472,380.
Lavoisier calculated it at 50,000,000 septiers ; and Mr Ar-
thur Young at 75,000,000. The variations here are very-
considerable ; but if we take the average of all these sums,
it will give 61,519,672 septiers, as the annual produce of
wheat, barley, oats, and rye, in France. The proportipns
of these different grains it is not easy even to conjecture,
with any probability of approaching the truth. Rye and
wheat are certainly produced in by far the greatest propor-
tions ; perhaps in pretty nearly equal proportions. Barley
and oats are cultivated on a very small scale; the latter,
especially in the south, from the too great heat of the cli-
mate, are not so much grown as in the north, and where
grown, are in general unproductive.

Beans, such as we cultivate in England, are principally
grow n in French Flanders ; besides these, the French grow
what they ca.U/eves de marais,ov beans of the marsh, which
they cat only when green and fresh. They also dry them,
but in that slate they serve only as food for cattle. Some
persons eat them in Lent; buying them green, and peeling
the skin off", they split them in two, antl dry them in the
open air. Haricots or kidney beans are pretty generally
cultivated as a fallow crop ; they are carefully hoed, and
are very productive.

The limits of the maize district have already been notic-
ed, in treating of the climate of Fi ance ; and the importance
of this grain in an agricultural point of view, has also been

FRANCE.

411

sufficieiitly pointed out, in the account of the rotations pur-
sued in the south of the kingdom. It is planted in rows or
squares, so far asunder that all necessary tillage may be
given between them. A considerable part of the summer
it affords, as it were, a rich meadow, the leaves being strip-
ped regularly for oxen, afl'ording a succulent and most fat-
tening food, which accounts for the high order of all the
cattle in the south of France. The meal of maize, besides
being used extensively as food for man, is also employed
for fattening oxen, hogs, and poultry. Thus it appears
that this most valuable grain is a meadow to feed the cat-
tle in summer, and nourishing food to fatten them in win-
ter. In some parts of France, it is sown broadcast and
thick, for the purpose of mowing to suit cattle. This prac-
tice is pursued in the northern districts, where the climate
is not sufficiently warm to ripen it ; and even in the southern
districts it is not uncommon to sow it as an after crop, in
the same manner, and for the same purpose. Near Rou-
sillon, it is sown in May, to be cut green in August, at
which time more is generally in progress, to be applied to
the same purpose in I3ecember. In the north, it is sown in
the beginning of May, on well dunged fallow, and cut when
beginning to come into ear. An arpent will maintain four
cows from June to September ; and the wheat that suc-
ceeds is always good. Although maize is undoubtedly an
exhausting crop, yet in the Pays de Basques, on the low
and humid lands of that province, it is cultivated for three
years successively without manure ; and this mode of farm-
ing, which is particularly mentioned by M. Parmentier in
his JMemoire sur te Mais, ;s even recommended as good by
that author.

As maize, where intended to stand for harvest, is always
planted in rows, little seed is required ; in general, only
the eighth part of the seed which would be necessary if
wheat were sown ; and the arpent yields more than double
of that grain. In some very fertile and well managed spots,
an arpent has yielded 2400 pounds. It is commonly ripe
in the month of September ; and even v/hen later, the grain
is protected from the inclemency of the season, by its broad
and strong leaves. It is usual in most parts of France, to
spread it under the roofs of the cottages to dry ; the eaves
of the houses being made to project 10 or 12 feet from the
plane of the walls for this purpose. When the corn is cut,
it is tied up in bunches, and suspended from light rafters,
horizontally placed under the shelter of these eaves.

Buck wheat is cultivated to considerable extent, parti-
cularly on the poorer soils; and being of rapid growth, suf-
ficient time is allowed to clean tlie land, before the suc-
ceeding crop of wheat or rye is sown. It is much used as
food for man ; and, in some parts, as has been already no-
ticed, as green food for cattle : in this case, it is a stubble
crop.

A very few years before the Revolution, considerable ex-
ertions were made by the intendants of the several provin-
ces, to introduce the regular and general culture of tur-
nips. They distributed seed, and published small treatises
on the proper management, and great advantages of this
root ; but their exertions seem to have been in a great mea-
sure unsuccessful ; for turnips are very little cultivated in any
part of Fiance. Mr Birkbeck, who travelled in 1814 from
Deippe through Paris and Lyons to the Pyrenees, and back
by the route of Toulouse, says, he did not see a single acre of
turnips, or even f^iraves, in his whole journey. That they
are not grown in the south of France, he ascribes to the
extreme diyness of the climate. This undoubtedly would
render them a very precarious crop ; but when he assigns
the severity of the winter in the northern disti-icts of France,
as the cause of their not being cultivated there, his reason
does not seem equally good. In fact, they are cultivated

in French Flanders, in Alsace, Lorraine, and in other dis-
tricts in the north and cast ; and it appears from Mr Young's
Tour, in irsr, 1788, 1789, that at that period they were
not entirely unknown, even in the middle and southern dis-
tricts. In the departtnent of the Lot, raves, that is a kind
of turnips with a carrot root, long, thin, and poor, are cul-
tivated ; these are also grown near Caen in Normandy, in
the road to Bayeaux ; and in Bresse, or the department of
the Ain, where they are known under the denomination of
navels. Between St Palais and Bayonne, many turnips are
grown in a singular husbandry ; the wheat stubble is either
burnt by itself, or where it has not been left long enough,
straw is spread over it, and then it is set on fire. The
ground thus cleaned of weeds, as well as manured, is then
sov/n with turnips. On the whole, however, the culture of
this valuable root is very partially known in France ; and
where known, is miserably conducted, as no hoeing is ever
given to it.

Potatoes have not been long cultivated, even as a garden
crop, in France, and as a field crop to any extent, or under
good management, they are yet comparatively little known.
The Lyonnois was one of the first districts in France where
they were cultivated. At their introduction, they were
called white truffles, from the root resembling the truffle
in form, and from their being dry, like a truffle, out of the
ground. It is computed, that since this valuable root
was brought into general use in the Lyonnois, the con-
sumption of corn has been lessened one-third ; the inhabi-
tants give them to their cattle and poultry, and the poultry
of this district is highly celebrated. Soon after M. Turgot
was appointed intendant of Limoges, A. D. 1761, he intro-
duced into his generality the cultivation of potatoes. The
people at first regarded this root with apprehension, or dis-
dain, as beneath the dignity of the human species ; and they
were not reconciled to it, till the intendajit had caused it to
be served at his own table, and to the first class of citizens,
and had introduced it among the fashionable and lich. At
present, a vast quantity of potatoes, of a tolerable good qua-
lity, are grown in the provinces of Poitou, Normandy, Li-
mosin, Gitinois, and the Isle of France, as well as in less
quantities in other districts.

Cabbages are cultivated in French Flanders, Alsace, and
a few other districts. In the neighbourhood of Strasburg,
particularly, this plant is cultivated on a very extensive
scale, but almost entirely for the consumption of Holland
and Mentz, to which places it is calculated that cabbages
to the value above 30,000 crowns are sent annually. In
French Flanders, the Brassica arvensis of Linnaeus, there
called Colza, is cultivated in astonishing quantities by the
farmers. There are two kinds of colza, one called white
colza, because the leaves of the llower are white ; the
other, cold colza, the leaves of which are larger and thick-
er. It has this name, because it supports better the rigours
of winter. This plant is cultivated on rather a strong rich
soil. There are two modes of sowing it ; either in a nur-
sery to be transplanted, or in the usual mode. The white
colza requires less manure than the cold colza. The seed
is commonly ripe about the end of June or July. The plant
is cut with a sickle, having a sharp edge. Colza, intended
solely for winter food, is sown in June, in a field prepared
for the purpose ; it is cut, and given to the cattle Li the
course of the winter ; and afterwards the stalks are cut some
inches above the surface of the earth, and they will furnish
a second crop of leaves in the spring. Colza furnishes the
best oil that can be extracted irom the soil of the north.
In the central parts of France, the oil of walnuts supplies
the want of the colza, which is but little cultivated there.
The mass remaining after the extraction of the oil, makes
a good winter food for cattle. The corn that is sown aftti'
3 F3

412

FRANCE.

this plant is generally both abundant, and of excellent qua-
lity.

Rape is extensively cultivated in French Flanders, Ar-
tois, &c. but not in the other districts of the kingdom. Tlie
plants are raised on a small quantity of i^round, tliat has
been fallowed, well dunged, and worked repeatedly by the
binolor plough. The rape is afterwards transi)lanle(l into
a field, that had formerly produced winter barley, or winter
Avheat. The young plants are put into the ground, either
by the dibble, or by liie plough. Rape is grown cither as
green food for sheep, or for the sake of the oil. The lat-
ter is the more common, as well as the more profitable. In
a small circle round Lisle, there are 450 windmills for ex-
tracting oil from the seeds produced in that neighbourhood.
In the year 1810, the produce was estimated as follows :
1st, 180,000 pictolitres of oil, at 109 francs each, in Eng-
lish money 817,580/.; 2d, The cakes valued at one-sixth
part, 136,260/.; the total value of the produce 953,840/.
The crops of wheat after rape in French Flanders, are rec-
koned to be better than those that are grown after fallow.
Poppies are also cultivated in the northern districts of
France for their oil.

In the same district of France, where indeed the most
spirited and successful agriculture is carried on, spurry
(^S/iert^ula an'ensis) is cultivated. After the crops have
been reaped, the grain is slightly ploughed and sown with
it. In October, the cows are tethered on it. The butter
from the milk thus obtained, is called spergula butter, and
it is employed for the use of the kitchen, as being both
cheaper and more profitable than any other for that pur-
pose.

In some parts of Brittany, parsnips are cultivated. The
seed is sown in February or March, and the parsnips are
raised out of the ground in October or November. They
are chiefly employed in fattening cattle and hogs. Lupins
(principally Ltifiinus albits) are grown very extensively in
the southern districts, either on the wheat stubbles, as win-
ter food for their flocks ; or for the sake of the seed, which
is eaten by the inhabitants. Of all the species of clover,
trefoil, or yellow clover, is most abundant, especially in the
south. It is generally sown as forage on the wheat stub-
bles. In the district of the Pyrenees, these are ploughed
in the beginning of August, and the clover seed is harrow-
ed, or rather rubbed in by means of a piece of wood fixed
to the plough. This clover produces much luxuriant and
valuable food for sheep and lambs early in the spring, after
which it is watered, and produces by the end of May a full
crop of hay ; it is then ploughed up, and haricots, maize, or
millet planted, either of which is off in time for putting in
wheat. The other kinds of clover, till very lately, were
scarcely met with any where, except in French Flanders;
but within these very few years, what the French call
Praires artijicielks, which were less properly artificial
grasses, have been introduced into several districts.
Still these and turnips, the two grand distinguishing
features of good husbandry in Great Britain, are com-
paratively little known or valued in France.

The case, however, is very different with respect to lu-
cerne and sainfoin. The culture of the former is one of
the principal features of French husbandry. It is the ine-
dica of the ancients, so called because it came originally
from Media; and spreading through Persia, it became at
length known to the Greeks, who cultivated it assiduously,
and recommended it highly. From Greece it was trans-
ferred to Italy, and before the time of Cato or Virgil, it was
in the highest credit with the Romans. It flourished with
them as long as their empire flourished. Before the de-
struction of the empire, it seems to have been carried into
Spain; or perhaps it wjs introduced there by the Moors,

with whom, during their abode in that country, it was in
high esteem. Wlien the arts i-cvived, it returned again
into Italy, and was assiduously cultivated in that country,
especially in the kingdom of Naples ; thence it advanced
into the southern pari of France ; and from the place where
it was first or princiiially cultivated, it was called grand
trefle, trrjle, or frjin dc Jionrgognc. The era of its intro-
duction into France is not accurately known ; but as it pass-
ed from that country into the Palatinate upwards of 250
years ago, it of course must have been longer cultivated in
France. It is now grown in Picardy, Isle of France, Rou-
sillon, Languedoc, Gascony, Poitou,Touraine, Artois, Nor-
mandy, Dauphiny, and Provence, to a great extent, and
partially in other districts of the kingdom. It is invariably
sown broadcast, and generally without corn, though some-
times with oats. It is cut for the first time, in the southern
districts, about the end of April ; in the northern districts
of course later. Where irrigation is practised, it is watered
every 40 days after the first cutting, to the extent of five
cuttings in all. If the land be not watered, it is cut thrice
with a full product, where the soil and climate are favoura-
ble, and the management good. The watering, however,
brings it to maturity, or rather decay, comparatively quick-
ly, since in this case its duration is not above seven or eight
years, but on other lands twelve, sixteen, twenty, and even
thirty years. In some parts of Rousillon, they take three
crops of wheat after lucerne. This crop is apt to get weedy.
In which case, in some of the soutliern districts, it is clean-
ed by means of ploughing it in the winter with a narrow
pointed share, during frosty weather. This operation, per-
formed at this season, kills the weeds, but does not injure
the lucerne. Where the land is not very rich, or where it
is not intended to crop it severely, the practice of sowing
wheat after it, is not pursued ; but barley and oats cut
green, or made into hay, and not suffered to ripen, are taken.
By this management, the roots of the lucerne, which arc
not easily or soon eradicated, and which would prove inju-
rious to crops of corn, are turned to advantage, the shoots
from them mixing with the forage of the barley or oats.
The produce of course varies considerably in weight. In
the neighbourhood of Liancourt, where it is well managed,
three cuttings will yield 1600 bottles of hay, each of 12 1b.
or 19,200 lb. which is above seven tons the English acre.
In general, the crop may be estimated at 12,000 lb. or ra-
ther more than five tons the English acre. The hay made
from the two first cuttings, is generally given to horses.
The hay from the three cuttings to cows. We have been
thus particular in our account of the lucerne husbandry of
France, since, as we have already remarked, it forms one of
its best and most distinguishing features.

Sainfoin is not nearly so generally cultivated, and cer-
tainly by no means so well managed, nor so valuable a
crop, either in its actual produce, or as a preparation for
other crops, as lucerne is. In England, sainfoin generally
lasts from eight to twelve years. In France, it seldom lasts
more than four or five years. It is usually sown with a se-
cond or third crop of corn ; and, in some places, the farmers
do not think of this grass till their lands are so full of
weeds, and so exhausted, that they will produce corn no
longer. This management, and the circumstance that their
leases are generally short, seldom extending beyond nine
years, sufficiently accounts for this crop not being kept in
the ground so long as it is in England ; for certainly, with
respect to soil, France is peculiarly favourable for this
crop ; and yet in some of the districts where it might be in.
troduced with great advantage and profit, it is not grown.
The culture of tobacco was formerly prohibited in France,
except in certain parts : as Pont de I'Arche ; Normandy ;
Vertus, in the department of the Marne ; Picardy ; Moht

riLVNCE.

413

Auban; Tonnung, a small town in the department of the
Lot and Garonne ; Clerac, another town in the same depart-
ment. Hainault, Artois, and Franclie Compte, were simi-
larly privileged ; but the soil of these provinces was deci-
dedly hostile to the cultivation <il' the toliatco plant. At
present, it is principally cultivated in Alsace. The ave-
rage produce of France is estimated at twelve million
pounds annually ; but the quality is not good.

It has already incidentally ajjpcared, that millet is culti-
vated to a considerable extent in the southern districts of
France. In some parts of CJascony, it is sown on three
feet ridges, with three irregular rows on each ridge, and
carefully hoed. In other parts, it is sown ridge for ridge
in the same fields with rye. In order to free the millet
from its chafi', the French pound it in a wooden mortar, or
pass it between millstones, which they keep suflicienlly
asunder, to prevent the grain being crushed. In the south-
ern parts of France, especially in the vicinity of Bourdeaux,
they prepare from the winnowed millet seed boiled in milk,
a very favourite mess, not unlike rice milk ; they also make
the seed into cakes, pastry, Sec. Millet is a grain, that
thrives well under irrigation, which is liberally bestowed
upon it in the district of the Pyrenees.

Carraway grows plentifully in France, and is sent parti-
cularly from Languedoc and Provence in large quantities
to Paris, where there is a vast consumption for it among
the druggists, apothecaries, confectioners, distillers, kc.
Flax is cultivated largely in many parts of France ; but
more particularly in French Flanders, Alsace, in La Maine,
Anjou, Languedoc, Brittany, and Normandy. It is also
foimd in the garden, or small farm of every peasant, for
domestic use. The flax husbandry is carried to the great-
est perfection in the vicinity of Lisle, where it is raised
every six years without injuring the soil. Land that has
carried a crop of wheat or oats after clover, is preferred.
Uepeated ploughings, harrowings, and pifinty of rape cake
or night soil, are given. In every part of France where
flax is cultivated, a good crop, that is, flax of fine quality,
is preferred to a large and coarse crop; hence perhaps
they obtain the fine stapled flax, of which their carnb)ics
and lawns are made. Hemp is cultivated in l-'landers, Pi-
cardy, in the territories of Rennes, St Malo and Dol in
Brittany, where the hemp fields occupy a very large space ;
in Upper Languedoc, and in Auvergne, where the soil is
peculiarly adapted to its culture. But perhaps of all the
provinces of France, Alsace, especially part of what is call-
ed the plain of Alsace, is most deservedly famous for the
culture of hemp. It is also grown like flax in the gardens,
&c. of the peasants, for their domestic use. Neither hemp
nor flax is cultivated in sufficient abundance for home con-
sumption. Previously to the Revolution, the naval con-
sumption alone of iiemp was 400 millions of pounds, more
than one-thiid of which was imported.

Many plants used in dyeing are cultivated extensively
in France. Madder is grown in the vicinity of Avignon,
and in other parts of the south, but to a much greater ex-
tent in Alsace. Into this province it was introduced during
the reign of the Emperor Charles V. and by the exertions
of that sovereign himself; but the cultivation of it was not
of much consequence till about sixty years ago, since which
time the growers and makers of it have been able to rival
the Dutch in supplying the manufactures of France. This
extended cultivation was principally the effect of a decree
of council in 1756, which promised privileges and exemp-
tions to those who, in clearing marshes, should plant them
with madder; for though it was soon found, that this plant
will not thrive nearly so well on marshy land as on a dry
and kindly soil, yet this measure of the French government
directed the attention of the farpiers of Alsace and other

districts to this plant. Before the Revolution, it was cal-
culated that 3000 acres were under madder in the depart-
ment of the Lower Rhine, and principally in the vicinity of
Haguenau. The Rcvoluiion was injurious to its cultiva-
tion ; for, in 1796, 7, 8, and 'J, there were only 600 or 700
acres in cultivation ; in 1800, the plantations had increased
to 850 acres; and, since that lime, the culture has exten-
ded, though it has not nearly reached Avhat it was before
the Revolution. An acre produces, in common years, 12
or 15 cwt. of dry madder. The crop of 1778 was uncom-
monly abundant, being 50,000 cwt.; in 1780, 34,000 cwt.
was produced; in 1798, only 8000 cwt,; in 1799, 10,000
cwt.; at present, about 15,000 cwt.

After much trouble and repeated trials, the manufactu-
rers of madder in Alsace succeeded in rendering it nearly
equal in quality to that of Zealand ; and it is said, that
Germany and Switzerland perfer it for their red dyes. On
account of the smallness of the crops, the whole produce
is consumed within the yeir by the circumjacent manufac-
turers, except a small (piantity that is exported to Switzer-
land and Germany; but from 1776 to 1796, when Lower
Alsace produced annually from 40,000 to 50,000 cwt.,
about one half was used in France alone; the remainder
went to England, Germany, Switzerland, and even Italy ;
houses at Genoa, Milan, and Leghorn, being supplied from
Haguenau. There are nine fabrics or manufactures of
madder in the department of the Lower Rhine, besides
which there are five madder mills, and about eighty dyeing
houses.

Weld is very common in many of the French provinces,
particularly in the environs of Paris ; and in Normandy,
especially about Rouen. It is usually sown in the fields
after harricots, hoed frequently, and dried carefully after
cutting.

Languedoc has long been famous for its cultivation of
woad : the best grows in Upper Languedoc, particularly
in the diocese of Alby. What we style a ball, they call co-
cagne ; and such a source of wealth was this plant in for-
mer times, that /in/« cle cocagne is still a French phrase for
a country of abundance. This arose, not merely from the
great quantity of woad sold, but from its leaving the soil
in an excellent state for grain, in consequence of the extra-
ordinary culture which it required. At that period, it was
the great staple of Languedoc ; but, by the decrease of the
demand for it at home and abroad, the culture of it has com-
paratively declined, and given place to that of millet. In
Languedoc five crops are gathered in one year. Great
care is taken both in the cultivation, and in the subsequent
preparation of it. When the leaves become yellow, they
are gathered and carried directly to a mill, much resem-
bling the oil or tan-mills, and ground into a smooth paste.
This is laid in heaps, pressed close and smooth, and the
blackish crusts, which forms on the outside, reunited, if it
should happen to crack. In this state it lies for fifteen days,
when the heaps are opened, the crust rubbed and mixed
with the inside, and the matter formed into oval balls, which
are pressed close and solid in wooden moulds. These are
dried upon hurdles: they turn black on the outside if ex-
posed to the sun ; if in a close place, yellowish, especially
if the weather be rainy. The dealers prefer the first. The
good balls are distinguished by their being weighty, of an
agreeable smell, and of a violet colour within when they
are rubbed.

Orchilla weed can scarcely be said to be cultivated: it
however grows in abundance, and of a good quality, in Au-
vergne. There is also in this province a kind of moss, dif-
ferent from the real orchilla, known by the name ciorseille
de terre,orseille d' Auvergne, which is used for dyeing, but
it contains fewer and lighter colouring particles. The real

414

FRANCE.

orchilla is prepared in France, for llic purpose of dyein(>;,
by beiiij,' ground betwixt stones, moistened occasionally
■with spirits of wine, and so made up in a paste, whicli they
call orseille en Jidte. French berries, that is, the berries of
the niiamnus infectorius, are grown ubundantly in the south
of France, particularly in the vicinity of Avignon, whence
they arc called graines d' Avignon. They arc used consi-
derably in the south and middle of France, to ijive a yellow
dye, chiefly for silk. They are gathered unripe, bruised,
steeped, and then boiled in water mixed with the ashes of
vine stjjks, to give a body, and then passed through fine
Jincn. The colour they give is fine, but very evanescent,
especially when exposed to the sun.

Saffron is cultivated about Toulouse, Angouleme, in the
principality of Orange, near Avignon, in Normandy, An-
goumois, and Gatinois. The best saffron in France comes
from Boisne in Gatinois, where the soil is a mere sand.
The saffron of Angoumois is perhaps next in quality, and
is grown there in great abundance. This plant seems to
have been introduced into Spain by the Moors, and from
Spain into France. The roots are liable to many maladies
in France, which are unknown here. There is nothing pe-
culiar in the mode of culture, except that sometimes, in
the very height of the season, they pull the flowers in the
evening as well as in the morning, instead of only in the
morning, as is practised in England. Turnsol, a valuable
dyeing drug, is prepared chiefly in the village of Grand
Garlargues, near Montpellier, from the croton tiuctorum,
■which the French call marille. The flowering tops, in the
latter end of July or beginning of August, are prepai-ed by
a long process, and linen or woollen rags dipped in their
juice. These are packed, and sold under the name of lour -
:>iois en drafieaux. These shreds are chiefly used for ting-
ing wines, cheese, linen, and paper.

Sumach is cultivated in the neighbourhood of Montpel-
lier, where it is called redout, or rouduu. Its shoots are
cut down every year quite to the root, and, after they are
dried, they are reduced to powder in a mill. Horehound
is another plant used in France for dyeing. To it the
French manufacturers are chiefly indebted for the deep
black colour of their cloths.

But our limits will not allow us to enumerate all the
plants raised or used in France for the purposes of dyeing;
and we must also omit the medicinal plants, of which there
are not a few in the southern districts ; as well as the aro-
matic plants, which grow in great abundance all round
Montpellier, and furnish those perfumes for which this
place is famous. We may, however, just mention, that in
the vicinity of Montpellier the caftillaire (maiden's hair) is
particularly abundant, and the syrup made from it is in high
reputation all over Europe.

Hops are also grown in France, but their cultivation is
not distinguished by any peculiarity or excellence, nor are
they grown in nearly such abundance, nor of so good quali-
ty, as in England ; the demand for them being much more
limited, in consequence of the comparatively confined use
of beer as a beverage.

Teasels are cultivated with much assiduity in Langue-
doc, Normandy, and Picardy, for the same purpose for
which they are grown in England. Those of Picardy are
esteemed the best that grow in France. According to the
trades in which they are principall; used, they distinguish
them into chardon bonnetier, cliardon drafiier, chardonfoulon,
in general chardon faniere, and the smaller ones are called
tetes des linots, linnets' heads. They commonly transplant
their teasels in France, in order to improve their heads, and
in some places horse-hoe them. Before the Revolution,
teasels were regarded as so essentially necessary in the
manufacture of woollen goods, that the exportation of them

was prohibited, except by licence. But now in France, as
in England, their use is in a great measure superseded by
improvements in machinery.

Sparta, or sparto grass, a species of fibrous grass, or
junk, grows abmulantly on the sea-shore in Provence, Lan-
guedoc, and some other provinces of France. It is cm-
l)loycd not only in the manufacture of ropes, but in that of
mats, and a sort of carpet, which is looked upon in France
as being extremely ornamental to a room. Swallow-wort,
a hardy plant that grows in the south of France, contains in
its seed-capsules a kind of silk, that is used for stuffing
pillows, and also for manufacturing paper of a superior
quality.

The harvest in the south of France generally commen-
ces about the middle or end of June, in the central provin-
ces about the middle of July, and in the north of France
about the beginning of August ; but in the high grounds,
especially in Auvergne, the harvest is very late, oats being
not unfrequently green in the middle of August. It has
already been mentioned, that women are principally em-
ployed in the harvest operations: indeed, agricultural ope-
rations of all kinds are conducted more frequently, and on
a more extensive and independent scale, by them in France
than in most other countries. The Hainault sickle is used
in French Flanders, and in parts of the north and east of
France : The sickle more generally, ar.d the common
scythe in some districts, even for the wheat. The harvest
operations are by no means carried on with neatness or
method; and the excellence of tlie climate is such, in most
parts of the kingdom, that these deficiencies are seldom at-
tended with much loss.

Scarcely any corn stacks are to be seen in France ; by
far the greatest part of the corn being either put into barns,
the size of which, in some districts, is enormous, or thrash-
ed out immediately after harvest, in the open fields ; this
mode of thrashing, however, can be practised only in the
southern parts of the kingdom. There harvest is not con-
sidered as finished till the thrashing is done. Where it is
performed by the flail in the open field, the thrashing-floors
are generally in a corner of it, if thrashing-floors they may
be called ; for all the preparation is merely shovelling aside
the loose mould, and a good sweeping. The size of course
is in proportion to the number of people, which is from two
to twelve; rarely more than the latter. They thrash and
winnow about seven Winchester bushels in a day. Where
the corn is trodden out, instead of being thrashed by the
flail, horses and mules are employed : oxen, which are
used in most of the other operations of husbandry, are sel-
dom or never employed in this. The number of horses or
mules varies: sometimes there are four mules and four
men ; sometimes only two mules and two men ; sometimes
twelve or fourteen mules or horses together, and some-
times even as many as twenty-four. The mules or horses,
as well as men, are generally hired, at forty sous for each
mule or horse, and the same for each man : the latter have
their board besides. With 24 horses or mules, their dri-
vers (who are paid in kind, three sacks per hundred of the
grain thrashed.) and 15 men, it is calculated that they can
thrash of wheat from 120 to 180 bags of 200 lbs. per day ;
at an average of 150 bags per day, it costs about 4d. per
English bushel. The common practice is to lay three or
four layers of wheat, barley, oats, £cc. upon sonie part of
the field, generally under a central tree : the horses and
mules are then driven upon and round it, in all directions,
a woman being in the centre, like a pivot, and holding the
reins : the horses are sometimes driven by little girls.
The corn thrashed out is cleared away by the men ; others
winnow it; others heap it; others supply fresh layers. Af-
ter the corn is separated, they continue treading the straw,

FllAKCK.

415

ugikit is reduced, almost to cIialT, to improve tlic fodder,
an^oiwaid ilic maturation of the thinij. Such is the sta-
bility of the cliinntc, that this process is going on in the
open air, throui^h the whole country, without any means of
protection against a sudden change. Indeed a soaking rain
could not possibly do harm, as a day's sunshine, or even tiic
heat of the night, would soon evaporate it.

The meanb used in France to improve the soil or par-
ticular crops arc, manures, draining, paring and burning,
and irrigation. In most of the districts, there is nothing
very peculiar in the manures employed, or in the mode of
managing them. The small towns and villages, in the
autumn, present a disagreeable scene ; from one end to the
other they are littered with straw, like a farm yard, for the
purpose of its being converted into a manure, so that it is
like walking all the way upon a dung-hill. When the
straw becomes sufficiently saturated, it is piled on each
side the door of the proprietor's house, to make room for
fresh straw being laid on ; so that, besides the dung-hill in
the street or path, there is a range of them on each side.
In French Flanders, very minute and particular attention
is paid to the subject of manure. In the vicinity of Lisle,
the dung of cattle and horses with the straw ; ashes ; lime ;
the urine of animals collected with care in brick cisterns ;
the cakes of rape and hemp- seed reduced to powder in a
mill, and sometimes put in the urine cisterns ; sour water,
obtained by washing the tubs of starchmakers ; the urine
of cattle fattened at the distilleries, which sells at a high
price ; the dung of pigeons ; that of sheep carefully gath-
ered ; marl ; the refuse of horns, and night soil, are care-
fully and judiciously employed. Although the price of
this last article is only 3rf. per ton to the scavengers, and
9rf. to the farmers, tire town of Lisle alone produces as
much as would sell for about 4200/. a year. Besides these
manures, Dutch ashes are extensively employed as a
dressing for clover : these are the ashes of the peat or
turf, brought principally from Friesland : by their applica-
tion, great crops of clover are raised, and the subsequent
crops are also improved. From the nature of the soil and
climate, draining is requisite only in very few parts of
France ; and in the practice, there is nothing particular or
commendable. The marshes in some of the sea districts
have been partially drained, but this improvement is by no
means carried on with spirit. Louis XIV. made a pre-
sent to Marshal Turenne of the marshes of Bourgoigne,
in the department of Isere, on condition that he would
drain them ; but neither he nor his successors have ever
accomplished it. In some provinces, a singular kind of
husbandry is practised ; the ponds are drained, and cul-
tivated for a few years, till they lose their fertility, when
the water is again permitted to accumulate, and the same
process is repeated. Respecting paring and burning,
which is very partially practised, and scarcely ever for
any other purpose, or at least with any other eflfect but to
impoverish and e.s.haust Uie land, it is unnecessary to enter
into details.

Irrigation is the most remarkable feature in the mode
of improving land in France, or, to speak more correctly,
in the mode of increasing its fertility ; — and its effects are
wonderful. Irrigation, however, is by no means general :
in travelling from Calais to the Pyrenees, Mr Young
observes, he first met with it in La Marche, between La
Ville au Brun and Bossie, after he had passed over con-
siderably more than half the kingdom ; thence it is prac-
tised, with little interruption, to the Pyrenees, and the
■whole district of those mountains from Perpignan almost
to Bayonne is watered. Through all the north of France,
comprehending every thing north of the Loire, there are
only a few imperfect traces of it in some parts of Nor-

mandy, arid in the Ikauvoiais. In Picardy, Flanders, Ar-
tois. Champagne, Franchc Comple, Burgundy, and the
Bourbonnois, it is unknown. In Alsace and Lorraine, is
is partially practised for their meadows. On the whole,
hardly more than one third of the kingdom can be said to
understand and practise irrigation.

But where it is practised, it is upon a large scale, and
with wonderful spirit and success. By means of it, artifi-
cial fertility is conferred on some of the barren mountains
of the Cevennes. As the waters that run down the sides
carry considerable quantities of earth into the ravines,
walls of loose stones are constructed, which permit the
waters to pass when they are clear ; but when turbid, their
load of earth is gradually deposited against the wall, and
afford a quantity of excellent soil. Successive ramparts
are thus erected to the very top of the mountain ; and the
water having no longer a violent fall, nourishes, instead 6f
injuring the crops. In order to give security and consis-
tence to the new acquisition of soil, fruit trees are planted
at certain intervals. Perhaps the greatest exertion in ir-
rigation to be seen in France, occurs in Languedoc, in the
vicinity of the town of Gauge : a solid stank of timber and
masonry is formed across a considerable river between two
rocky mountains, to force the water into a very fine canal,
in which it is, on an average, six feet broad by five deep,
and half a mile long, built on the side of a mountain, and
walled in ; a wheel, with a hollow periphery, raises a por-
tion of the water of this canal to the height of 30 feet ;
an aqueduct conducts it on arches built on the bridge,
across the river, to water the higher grounds ; while the
canal below carries the larger part of the water to the
lower fields. Meadows are watered in some parts of Gas-
cony, and in the vicinity of Avignon ; — an unusual thing in
the South of France.

But the most extraordinary instances of irrigation, are
to be met with in the singular desert of La Crau, already
described, and in the Pyrenees. In advancing from Saloa
into the Crau, about four miles before it commences, the
road crosses the canal of Borsgelin. " The old canal of
Crappone, at the same place, is seen distributing water in
various directions, for the amelioration of one of the most
arid tracts that is to be met with in the world. The canal
of Crappone takes its waters from the Durance at La
Roche, and carries it to the southern part of it at Istres.
This canal is 40 miles long. That of Bois Selin receives
it from the same river at Malavort, and crossing the other,
divides it into three branches : one of which leads to the
lands in the neighbourhood of Istres ; the second to St
Saumus and Magran, and this part of the Crau ; the third
is a small one that turns to the left towards Salon. In con-
sequence of water being thus conducted to a region where
it is so much wanted, some very capital improvements
have been wrought. Some large tracts of the Crau have
been broken up, and planted with vines, olives, mulber-
ries, and converted into corn and meadow." The corn
has not succeeded ; but the meadows, according to Mr
Young, are amongst the most extraordinary spectacles that
the world can afi'ord, in respect to the amazing contrast be-
tween the soil in its natural and in its watered state, cover-
ed richly and luxuriantly with clover, chicory, ribgrass,
and avena elatior.

In describing the irrigation of the eastern Pyrenees, we
shall use the words of Mr Birkbeck, who, in his tour
through France in 1814, observed every thing relative to
its agriculture with the eye of a most shrewd and intel-
ligent observer, and who has recorded his observations in
the most clear and impressive manner.

" The copious and pure streams issuing from the Pyre-
nees, from their source to their union with the Mediter-

41G

FRANCE.

ranean, are most economically and skilfully directed to tiic
purpose of irrigation. On tlie mountain sides, the stream-
lets, as they trickle from the rocks, are collected into
channels, above every litUe portion of arable ground,
which they render surprisingly fertile. These rills unit-
inj^-, form larger streams ; and these, with great labour
and ingenuity, are kept up by artificial channels, and only
suflercd to descend as they perform the oflice of irrigation.
The same attention is paid to the larger streams united,
which become a considerable river in the lower lands of
Rousillon. This is divided and subdivitled, unites, and is
again divided, so that every portion of the surface seems
to enjoy its due share. Tiie soil of Rousillon is saixly,
and apparently not very rich; but, by the joint inlluence
of water and sun, vegetation is vigorous beyond any thing
I had ever lieforc witnessed. Where a mountain side, or
a portion of tlie land, is so situated, as to be inaccessible to
the water, it is planted with vines, to which watering is not
applicable, as it injures the quality of the wine, without
increasing the quantity sufi'iciently to compensate. On
the contrary, to olives, irrigation may be applied with pro-
digious advantage, an instance of which came under my
observation. Tliis crop had generally failed, owing to the
extraordinary coldness of the early part of the summer;
and one half of a large olive ground was, like the rest of
the country, without fruit ; the other half, which had been
•watered several times, was laden to a degree equal to the
most plentiful season. How this country, and other val-
lies of the Pyrenees, were originally laid out so judi-
ciously with channels of irrigation, systematically arrang-
ed for the benefit of the wiiolc, is a mystery 1 have not
heard explained. A master's hand seems to have plan-
ned and executed all, before the appropriation of tlie soil,
otherwise private interest would have interfered and mar-
red the design. However that may have been, every man
now finds a ' canal d'arrosemenc' passing above his field,
and a ' canal de desscchemmt,' at the bottom, which latter is
the ' canal d'arrosement,' in its turn, for the land below.

The manner of applying the water is extremely simple.
A dam is made across the upper channel, from which the
water flows gently into a furrow made by the plough along
the higher side of the field, and in a few hours soaks
through the whole soil, until it reaches the lower side,
which completes the operation.

The following, which is one of the usual practices of the
district, may shew what this amphibious husbandry can
efTect. In August, they scratch the wheat stubbles with
their little Roman plough, which does not turn a furrow,
or move a fourth of the surface. They then sow annual
trefoil, which they cover very slightly by planking, that is,
drawing a plank on which a boy rides, over the land, thus
breaking the clods and smoothing the surface. This is
equivalent to ouri'olling, as the scratching is to our plough-
ing. The weeds and stubble are but little affected by this
process of ploughing and planking. However, that mat-
ters not, for the water is now introduced ; the trefoil starts
as it were instantaneously; and in October or November
is three deep and fed off by the sheep. Water is applied
from time to time ; and in January or February it is fed
again ; and lastly, in May it is mown for hay, a heavy crop.
Immediately as the hay is removed, another scratch is
given, millet or haricots are sown, irrigation goes on, the
crop is reaped, and the ground receives four ploughings,
as a preparation for another crop of wheat, to be sown in
October or November. This is the history of one year,
under fumiliar and constant practice."

The riciiest arable land, wlien watered, sells for nearly
double what land of as good quality not capable of being
watered will bring. Besidco the districts already men-

tioned, *hcrc irrigation is practised on a large scatte«nd
with great skill and effect, every spot of land in the ^Un-
tains of the Limosin is watered ; and a consideralile part
of the vale of the Limagne of Auvei gne, as well as some
of the mountainous districts of that province. At Isoirc
near Clermont, the gardens, are planted in quick succes-
sion by means of it. There are also here wliat they call
vergcru ; that is, watered meadows planted with apples
and other fruit trees, which are very productive. Irriga-
tion is applied to the culture of hemp in Auvcrgne.

Besides the improvement of the mountainous districts
in the centre and south of France by means of irrigation,
by another process, calcareous mountains, which generally
rise in shelves, are rendered productive by cutting away
the rock beliind the shelf, which supplies materials for a
low wall around the edge. The interval is afterwaids
filled with earth, and the barren mountain is crowned with
luxuriant terraces.

Sect. II. MtMoivs — Pasture — Horses — Mules — Oxen —
S/iee/i — Poultry — Bees — Woods and I'oresls-Fruit Trees
— Vine Husbandry-r- Wines— Brandies — Vinegar — Horti-
culture.

It must have sufUciently appeared, from the account al-
ready given of the agriculture of France, that the meadows
and pastures of that country bear a very small proportion
to the arable land, and that comparatively little dependance
is placed on their produce, for the breeding or fattening of
cattle or sheep. Indeed, as the cattle and sheep of great
tracts of arable land are entireiy supported on clover, lu-
cerne, kc. and as the climate of by far the greatest part of
the kingdom is not well suited for meadows or pasturage,
the French agriculturists have little reason to regret, or
alter tliis feature in their husbandry. The author of the
Credit A'ational calculates the meadows at 15,000,000 ar-
pents : that is, at one-fourth of what he makes the arable
land. But IVIr Young conceives that they do not amount
to one-third of that quantity, and estimates the meadows
and rich pasturage together at 4,000,000 English acres;
not l-17th of the arable land. This seems a very small
proportion ; but it will not be deemed too small, when it
is recollected, that in those districts where in England we
find extensive meadows, that is, by the sides of the rivers,
there are in France very few, and those very inconsidera-
ble. For instance, the plough moves to the water's edge
of the iNIarne. There are very few meadows on the banks
of the Loire. The Seine is bounded cither by hills cover-
ed with wood, or by gravelly plains under tillage. The
land near the Garonne is principally arable ; and the Rhone
presents rocks and vines on its banks through the greater
part of its course. On the smaller description of rivers,
indeed, there are meadows, especially on the banks of the
Saone; but it is evident that these, taken together, can form
a very small proportion indeed of the area of France.

The most extensive, and certainly the most fertile, pas-
turages in France are to be found in Normandy. The
moisture of the climate, aided by the generally deep aod
rich soil of this province, is extremely favourable to pas-
ture ; and as the farmers here are certainly equal at least
in intelligence, capital, attention, and skill, to those in any
other part of France, those advantages arc turned to the
best account. The grazing lands of liic Pays d'Auge are
particularly celebrated ; and of these, the Valley of Cor-
bon may perhaps class with the finest to be found in ai.y
country. In 1789, wiicn Mr Young visited these pastur-
ages, the rent of the highest was about 4^ : 7 : 6 the acre,
measured by the perch of 22 feet; and the price about
8"/. 10.'. the acre. In several of the provinces, there are

FRANCE.

417

also salt marshes that arc applied as meadows, to the fat-
tcniiic; of cattle, particularly in Normandy, about Isigny
and Carcntan, iiv Poitou, Saintongr, Langucdoc, Sec.

The management of hay in general is very slovenly. It
is not unusual to see the produce of a field carrie<l away
in sheets and blankets, or even in the arms, and one-fifth of
the crop lying scattered in the roads and the fields. It is in
general too much exposed to the sun. The women here,
as in all the other parts of agricultural labour, perform the
principal part of the work, even pitching the hay into the
carl. The fork they make use of for this purpose is a very
awkward one. In the central and southern provinces,
where the climate is very steady, the farmer stacks his
hay in small cocks wliere it grows, and only carries it
away at his leisure. When carried to the hay loft, being
merely thrown together without being trodden, it loses the
little fragrance, which a burning sun acting on it, while it
was making, had left it. The clover hay, however, espe-
cially in the northern provinces, is better managed ; after
Standing for some days in large cocks, it is tied with straw
bands, in bundles of 14 lb. each. The lucerne also, in
these districts, is got with great care, so much, indeed,
that the colour is beautiful ; the green is often not in the
least faded, but so vivid that it almest appears improved
in drying.

Normandy, the Limosin, Aiivevgne, Brittany, Franche
Compte, Poitou, and Burgundy, are most celebrated for
their breed of horses. Normandy has long been noted for
its horses. It is said that William I. won the decisive bat-
tle of Hastings, by the superiority of his cavalry which he
brought over with him. The Norman horses are in gene-
ral low and thick, and very steady, sure, and strong. They
■will make a stage of 30 miles without a bait, and eat the
coarsest food. They, as well as the horses in other parts
of France, and also the cattle, arc accustomed to feed
about the lanes, and in the common fields, after the corn
is carried off. The best saddle horses are those of Limo-
sin. They are seldom fit for riding till they are six or
seven years old ; but then they are very useful, and last a
long lime. This breed has been lately much improved, by
crossing it with the Arabian, Turkish, and English. Au-
vergne produces some good hacks for common use. A
great many foals are reared in Brittany, which are sent to
the pastures of Normandy. A great many horses are also
bred in Franche Compte, especially in the hilly part of the
country. One year with another, their studs produce up-
wards of 5000 colls, most of which are bought, when six
months or a year old, by the horse dealers in Champagne,
Burgundy, Brie, and Berry. The trade in horses is conse-
quently an object of some importance and value in Franche
Compte. In different parts of the kingdom, there have
long been Haras, or dejxots de chevaux, for the supply of
the royal studs; and Bonapaite, sensible that cavalry is one
of the main sinews of war, paid parliculai' attention to the
breed and supply of horses ; but, as in many other things
that he undertook, his plans wci'e not calculated to produce
the object he had in view, in consequence of the impatience,
obstinacy, and tyranny of his disposition. On tlie whole,
therefore, the breed of horses, and probably the number,
are not equal to what they were previously to tlie Revolu-
tion. In the year 1802, the total number was, of plough
horses 1,500.000; horses kept at Paris 35J00; in all other
towns 200,000; in the armies 100,000: making in all
1,835,100. With respect to the number assigned for agri-
cultural purposes, it may appear high, when we consider,
that oxen are very much used not only in the plough, but
in carts; and that where horses are employed in tlie plough,
there are seldom more yoked than two. The number of
horses in Paris is singularly small. Between 1802 and

Vol. IX. Past. I.

1812, the number of horses, at least of those bred in the
government sluds, was probably much increased; but dur-
ing llic Russian camiiaign, in a few months of 1812 and
18 1,5, the loss, accordiug to the expose of the year 1814,
amounted to 230,000 horses, which, it is slated, could not
he replaced at a Kss expence than 105,200,000 francs. The
price of farm horses in the northern districts of France is
about 1"/. sterling.

Mules arc much employed in the middle and south of
France, especially in the latter, for treading out the corn.
Aiijou carries on a particular trade for these animals,
known by the name of Mirthalais. In the department of
Aveiron, especially in the vicinity of Rhodez, the principal
town, they feed a vast number of mules, in which the in-
habitants carry on a considerable trade ; for it is said that
during the two fairs that are kept yearly at Rliodcz, this
trade brings in al)ove 500,000 crowns. The breed of
mules in Poitou, is particularly celebrated for their size
and strength, and is in great demand all over France.

The provinces in which oxen and cows are principally
bred or fattened, are, Pcrche, Champagne, Lorraine, Al-
sace, Hainault, Flanders, Normandy, BriUany, La Maine,
Anjou, Poitou, Berry, Nivernois, Burgundy, Limosin, Au-
vergne, Bresse, Languedoc, and Daupliiny. The prevalent
colour of the cattle in France, from Calais to the Pyrenees,
is a pale reddish, or rather a cream colour. This is deci-
dedly the colour of the cattle of the Limosin, which are an
excellent breed, probably the best in. France. From this
district, numbers of fine oxen, fattened in winter, are sent
to the Paris market, which is also supplied by those fatten-
ed in Normandy during summer. The cattle of the Li-
mosin have short legs, strait and flat backs, well arched
ribs, deep and heavy carcases, and Iheir weight from 60 to
80 stone, 14 lb. to the stone. The most singular circum-
stance respecting them is, that they should be in excellent
condition in the month of May, the season when they are
usually driven from Limoges to the Paris market, as at this
time of the year there is in most countries a scarcity of fat
cattle, when they have not been fattened on spring grass;
and any grass which they could have in a climate not very
different from that of the south of England, could have but
a small share in bringing them to the condition in which
they reach Paris. The method by which they are brought
into this condition is very extraordinary : they are put on
grass till the beginning of November ; then on raves or
turnips. When the turnips fail, they give them rye-flour,
prepared in a peculiar manner: the flour is mixed with
water, so as to make a paste, which is suffered to stand till
it ferments. In some instances the fermentation is promot-
ed and accelerated by the addition of leaven. This rye-
paste is never given to the oxen till it becomes sour. At
first they refuse it; but when they take to it, they prefer
this acid food to any other. A large ox will eat in this
manner about 22 lb. of the paste a-day : it is given thrice
a-day. The oil-cake of walnuts is also given to oxen in
the Limosin, with the greatest success. In some parts of
this district, boiled potatoes and chesnuts are given; in
other parts, boiled maize rendered tender by pouring boil-
ing water upon it.

In other parts of France, oxen are fed on leaves. This
seems to have been an established custom in the time of
Henry IV. as it is particularly mentioned by Oliver de
Serres, who wrote, under the auspices of that monarch,
the Theatre d' Agriculture. The practice was formerly
usual in England also, in Henry Eighth's time, and even so
late as the reign of Charles II. as appears from Evelyn.
The leaves used in France are principally Uiose of the
beech. They are gathered when on the [joint of falling,
or immediately after they have fallen, and are preserved as

418

FRANCE.

tlry as possible by being covered with straw. The man-
agement of tliis mode of keeping cattle is best understood
in Franchc Conipl^ and Auvergne.

AVlicre the Rhone divides between Taiascon and Aries,
an island or delta is formed, called Camaigue. Tliis island
is nearly an efiuilateral triangle of about seven leagues each
way. It was formerly covered with wood, but has for a
great many years been cleared, and covered with rich pas-
ture. Vast quantities of sheep and cattle are bred and fat-
tened here. About 3000 horses are computed to be bred
annually, with oxen and sheep in proportion. The oxen are
reserved chielly for the supply of the marine at Toulon.
They differ in colour from those generally met with in the
rest of the kingdom, being a small black breed, not unlike
Scotch cattle. They make excellent beef. They are very
Avild, and often very mischievous; so that when the droves
of them go to Toulon, they are always preceded by a man
on horseback, with a javelin in his hand, who keeps at a
short distance a-head of them, to warn people of their ap-
proach.

The Norman cows, similar to those of Alderney, are the
most celebrated for the quality of the milk they yield. This
province, especially the neighbourhood of Isigny in Lower
Normandy, and Biillany, especially near Lanion, in the de-
pailnient of the North, and the Boulonnais, supply excel-
ent butter, both fresh and salt. Oournay, a town in the
department of the Lower, is particularly celebrated for its
market of fine fresh butter, which is chiefly consumed in
Paris. In the neighbourhood of Marseilles, where cows
are seldom seen, milk is furnished from sheep and goats:
butter is only made from sheep's milk : a kind of curd is
also made from this milk, which is called beurre /rata : it
is made into little pots, and brought about by the country
peopie for sale. Cheese is veiy little made in I'rance. Lan-
guedoc, Provence, Brittany, Normandy, Forez, and Bresse,
furnish it in the greatest quantity. That of Brie is esteem-
ed the best. On the borders of the Saone are a range of
hills, which from their excessive fertility are called Monts
d'Or. Several villages are dispersed over them, in which
a very small delicate cream cheese is made. They are
sent to very distant parts in little boxes, made exactly to
the size of the cheese.

It is calculated that the number of oxen employed in
husbandry are about 3,208,000 ; feeding oxen 404,500 ;
young oxen, 1,455,000; cows, 1,016,000; making a total
of 6,084.500.

The native breeds of sheep in France are, 1. The Pi-
cardy, hornless, white faces, and silky hanging ears; these
are probably a bastard Flemish breed ; their wool is coarse,
and of middling- length. 2. The Norman, with red legs
and faces, and coarse wool. 3. The Berry, resembling
somewhat the South Down sheep ; the wool fine. 4. The
Rousillon, similar to the Spanish, with very fine wool. 5.
Near Mirepoix, in the department of the Upper Pyrenees,
there is u sort of sheep, resembling the Norfolk breed,
with horns, black faces and legs. The leading character-
istics of the native French sheep are their long legs, thin
carcases, and coarse wool; the mutton in general is bad.
The same characteristics prevail from north to south, ex-
cept in the north the sheep are larger, stouter, and bear
fmer fleeces. These circumstances, however, principally
arise from their being better managed in the north than in
*,he south.

Louis XVI. in 1786, first established a flock of Merinos
at Uambouillct. The produce, for some time, was given
away. Recourse was then had to public sale. The sheep
sold high, but the manufacturers did not give a proportion-
ally high price for the wool. At this crisis, the Revolution
came on. There were at that period four principal estab-

lishments for Merinos, namely, those of Rambouillet, Alfert,
Perpignan, and Pompadour ; but the Revolution still farther
depressed the demand for their wool. In-1811, Bonaparte
published a decree, by which he intended and hoped to
cover France with finc-woolled flocks; but, by this ill-ad-
vised measure, the final blow was given to the Merino
breed. From that time they have been declining in
France. In the expose for the year 1814, it is asserted
that Bonaparte's" forced attempts to introduce the Merino
breed of sheep, cost the government 200 millions of francs;
and that, after all, so far from succeeding, the breeds of
native sheep were rather deteriorated.

Sheep are kept in all parts of France, but principally in
Rousillon, Languedoc, Provence, Dauphiny, Auvergne,
Guienne, Gascony, Beam, Marche, Limosin, Poitou,
Maine, Anjou, Brittany, Touraine, Champagne, Alsace,
Franche Compte, Normandy, and French Flanders. In
most parts of France, the sheep are shut up in stables at
night, and sheltered from the sun at noon, during the sum-
mer. They are generally folded in the fields till Novem-
ber. When the snow is deep, they are sometimes fed on
the branches of trees. On the whole, the management of
sheep is bad in France, especially in keeping them too hot
during night in their houses, and too confined in their folds.
The flocks are not large, seldom reaching 400.

On the mountains of the Cevennes, which run along the
northern parts of the Lower or Eastern Languedoc, nume-
rous flocks are fed in the summer on the aromatic herbs
with which they abound. During the cold of the winter,
they descend into the plains. But the most extensive and
singular emigration of sheep is that which takes place an-
nually, and as regularly as in Spain, from the Camargue,
or Delta of the Rhone, and the desert of La Crau, to the
mountains of Provence and Dauphiny, especially to the
mountains of Gap andBarcelonetta, and back again. The
migration to the mountains takes place in May, whence
they return again in October or November, and sometimes
earlier. The migration is not regulated by any other writ-
ten laws, than some arrets of the parliament to limit their
roads to five toises of breadth. If they do any damage be-
yond that, it is paid for. The Barcelonetta mountains are
the best, as they are covered with fine turf.

The migration is conducted with all the order and regu-
larity of the march of an army. The flocks belong to se-
veral proprietors, who reside principally about the Crau, at
Aries, Salon, &c M. Darluc, the author of the Xatural
History of Pro-uence, as well as other writers, calculates
the sheep kept in the Crau and the Camargue at one mil-
lion. They travel in flocks of from 10,000 to 40,000, and
are from twenty to thirty days on the journey. Am.ong
the shepherds that have the care of tliem, one is chosen as
chief during the season. He regulates every thing relative
to the march, and is treasurer for the company ; all the
money for the expences of the route being lodged in his
hands, and he paying for every thing. In order to check
him, another of the company is appointed secretary. In
his presence all payments are made, and he enters them
immediately in his book. The rest of the shepherds form
a council, whom the chief consults in case of any difficulty.
To every thousand animals, three shepherds arc allowed,
each of whom has his dog. In the centre of the flock, a
number of asses march, carrying the provisions and bag-
gage. The chief also takes his station hi the centre: he
issues the daily allowances of provisions, and transmits his
orders, by his assistants, from this situation ; and if any ir-
regularity is committed, he is found there to receive the
complaint. He also examines into any mischief which may
be done by the flocks to the countries through which they
pass, and pays the person who has received the injuiy: he

FRANCE.

419

next determines, whether it was occasioned by negligence
or through accident : in the former case, tlic sum ])aid is
levied on the offender ; in the latter, it is taken IVom the
common fund.

Besides the sheep, there arc always a number of goats,
which take the lead of the former. Some of the oldest he-
goats have bells round their necks. Tlic discipline in
winch these are kept, and the intelligence which they dis-
play, is remarkable. At the command of the shepherds,
they either halt or proceed ; and when the flocks rise in the
morning, the moment these gciats receive the order to pro-
ceed, they repair to their stations in the foremost ranks
with great regularity. If they come to a stream, they halt,
till the word of command is given, when they instantly
plunge in and cross it, and are followed by the rest of the
flock. When the flocks lie down at night, the shepherds
and dogs still continue on the watch, relieving each other
at stated intervals. Wlien they arrive at the mountains,
each shepherd has his particular district allotted him by
the chief. The feed is hired at the rate of 20 sous each
sheep for six months ; and the price for the winter feed in
the Crau and the Camargue is the same. During the whole
time of their stay on the mountains, the shepherds live al-
most entirely on bread and goat's milk, sleeping upon the
ground in the open air.

The shepherds in France never inhabit a house : they go
to the cottages in which their wives and families live, to
take their meals, but sleep in their sheepfold, in huts made
of reeds and clay, upon a mat spread on the ground :
these huts are placed on wheels. The wages of the shep-
herds are in general high ; and they are a superior class of
men, in all respects, to what they are in England. The
■wages of the chief shepherd are about 12/. sterling: be-
sides this, he is allowed a certain sum, often three francs
per head, for every sheep sold ; his boai'd at one and a
hall francs a day ; and a cottage, rent free, for his family.
The wages of the inferior shepherd is about 8/. sterling ;
and he has the same allowance for board as the chief shep-
herd.

The Pyrenees breed of shepherd dogs are particularly
celebrated. They are black and white, of the size of a
large wolf, a large head and neck, armed with collars,
stuck with iron spikes, so that no wolf, can attack them.
But bears are more potent adversaries. If a bear can
reach a tree, he is safe : he rises on his hind legs, with his
back to the tree, and sets the dog at defiance. These dogs
are fed entirely on bread and milk. In most parts of
France, when it is necessary to catch a sheep, for the pur-
pose of examining it, the shepherd orders his dog to drive
the flock round his master, which he does by going round
them in a circle, gradually decreasing, till the shepherd
takes any one he wants.

The average weight of the fleeces of the native sheep of
France is about 2^ or 3 lib.; that of the Merinos about 6
lib. The wool of the former, in general, is of an indifferent
quality. The wool of Rousillon is the finest ; that of Nar-
bonne is nearly as fine, but more cottony, and of a shorter
staple. The wool of Bezieres is next in quality; that of
Pesenas, in Languedoc, on the side of Montagnac, is some-
what less fine. The wool of the sea-coast is heavy and
coarse: the wools of the mountains of Montpellier and De
Somieres are of three sorts ; the first equal to the wool of
Pesenas, the second less fine, the third very coarse. The
•wool of Berry is fine ; that of Rheims inferior. The num-
ber of sheep in France is estimated at 30,307,728 : the
total of the wool they yield may be rated at 106,770,000
lib.

There are a vast number of goats in France, principally,
of course, in the mountainous districts. Pigs are chiefly

fed in the neighbourhood of woods, or where grain abounds,
as Normandy, Champagne, Limosin, &c. They are also
fed on acorns ; and, in the Limosin, on chesnuts.

Immense quantities of poultry are kept in all parts of
France ; to such an extent, indeed, that it is a question
whether there is more weight of mutton consumed, or o)
jioultry. They are of an excellent quality, (jrcat pains
are taken in rearing and fattening them. In French Flan-
ders, as well as in other districts, they are fed with the
flour of buck wheat, or rye, or potatoes : their food is fre-
quently changed; and the vessel into which their meat is
put is washed with hot water after every repast. After
feeding, they are kept in darkness till the next meal. In
some parts, what are called vcrmkulaivcs are expressly
kept for them ; that is, places in which worms for their
food are collected and preserved. Capons are fattened in
many parts of the kingdom : those which are fattened at
Barbezieuz, a town in the department of the Charente, are
so much esteemed, that they are sent to Paris for those
who keep the most delicate tables.

Narbonne honey is much celebrated, but it is not the
produce of the neighbourhood of that place ; at least it is
seldom to be procured there : what is so called is more
commonly, as well as much more abundantly, procured at
Perpignan. The bees wax of Champagne, Normandy,
Sologne, Languedoc, Auvergne, and Brittany, is esteemed
the best. Bleaching wax is a busin^ps of importance in
France. The yellow wax of Brittany bleaches with the
most ease, and becomes a beautiful white : it is principally
bleached at Chateau Goutier, about eight leagues from
Angers. By some, this is esteemed the very best in the
kingdom; by others, that of Champagne is preferred.
The wax of Amboise, and of Chaumont near Troyes, is of
an inferior quality ; and that made at Rouen is esteemed
the worst, on account of the large quantity of suet they add
to it. At Montpellier, there is a large manufacture of bees
wax, and the process is conducted with great attention and
skill.

The forests of France are numerous and extensive; and
as they have also been of great importance, both on account
of the fuel they supply, and of their application to other
purposes, many calculations and conjectures have been
made with respect to the surface which they cover. The
Marquis de Mirabeau represents them as 30,000,000 ar-
pents ; in this opinion M. Malpart coincides. By the au-
thor of the Credit JVational, they are reckoned so low as
6,000,000 arpents. Mr Young endeavours to determine
this fact by two methods ; by the maps of Cassini and by
the consumption of the people. By the first method, he
makes the extent of wood about 19,000,000 arpents, or one-
seventh of the kingdom ; by the other method, he finds,
that the quantity of wood is about 20,800,000 arpents ; the
mean of the two results which he thus obtains is 19.850,515.
We have already observed, however, that his estimate is
too high, at least it is above that of the committee of the
first National Assembly, which reckons the wood only at
13,100,691 arpents. Mr Young, in his calculation, reckons
the annual value of the woods to be about 12 millions ster-
ling, the rent being taken at 12s. per acre.

Some of the forests are very extensive, particularly those
of Orleans, the Ardennes, and Foijtainebleau. The forest
of Orleans lies to the north of that city, and of the river
Loire ; it contains several plains and villages in it ; its
whole length is upwards of 15 leagues; but it is of une-
qual breadth, in some places seven or eight leagues, in
others only two or three. It contains great variety of tim-
ber, such as oak, elm, aspens, fir, &c. Before the Revolu-
tion, the value of the timber annually felled in this forest
amounted to 100,000 livres : the profit was part of the ap-
3 G2

420

X^RANCE.

panage of tlie Duke of Orleans. It was formerly in-
fested by numerous troops of bunditti ; and it is still tlic
haunt of immense numbers of wolves. The forest of Ar-
dennes, in the time of Csesar, was the larj^cst in Gaul ; it
began on the banks of the Rhine, and extended to the very
borders of the Rhone, that is to say, the diocese of Rheims
in Champagne. In another place lie says, it extended from
the banks of the Rhine, and the country of Treves, to that
of the Nervii, that is Hainault, Cambresis, and Trench Flan-
ders, comprehending 50,000 paces in length. This forest
has been cut down in a great many places, especially to-
wards its extremities : however, it still extends over the
greater part of the Duchy of Luxemburg, in the southern
part of the bishopric of Leige,, and of the province of Hai-
nault, and of the northern part of Champagne, though
•with several interruptions. It was formerly i-enowned for
events of chivalry. The forest of Fontainebleau, anciently
called the forest of Biere, contains 26,424 acres of ground,
reckoning many empty places, where the trees have been
cut down.

The wood of France may be divided into six classes : 1.
For ship-building. 2. I'or the use of house carpenters.
3. For the construction of carriages. 4. For joinery. 5.
For vine props. 6. For fuel. Oak is chiefly used for the
first class ; for the second, oak, fir, linden, and aspen trees ;
for the third, ash, oak, maple, and especially elm ; for the
fourth, fir, beech, elm, pear tree, apple, cherry tree, cornil
tree, aspen, poplar, linden. Sec. ; for the fifth, osiers, and
branches of different trees ; that destined for fuel is divid-
ed into new and old, and is distinguished by the names,
bois ficrdu, bois camard, and bois entrain. The cork-tree
flourishes on the French side of the Pyrenees, and produces
very fine cork-wood.

Under the old government, the 7iational forests embraced
3,000,000 arpents, and gave about 12,000,000 franks to the
royal treasury. By the Revolution, all the forests former-
ly held by the corporate bodies and the emigrants were an-
nexed to those of the state, which thus were increased to
upwards of 4,000,000 aipents. These, added to the forests
in Belgium, and on the left bank of the Rhine, in the year
1806, yielded rather more than 70,000,000 francs, according
to the budget for that year. All forests above 300 acres
were also added to the national domains, and declared ina-
lienable. In the year 1800 the national forests were thence-
forward exempted from the land tax. The Revolution did
not abolish the arbitrary laws under which the private pro-
prietors of woodlands laboured. According to these laws,
the government appointed persons, who were proper judges
of ship tiinber, to examine all the woods, and to mark such
trees as they deemed fit for their purpose, after which the
proprietor durst not lay the axe to the roots of them. Be-
sides, no individual propnetor of woodland could cut down
his timber, or clear his land, under a heavy penalty, without
making, six months previously, a declaration of his inten-
tion to one of the conservators, whose report determines
the government cither to grant or refuse permission to that
effect.

To this general account of the woods in France, we shall
add some short notices of such trees as are sources of na-
tional wealth, independently of the timber which they afford,
as an appropriate introduction to our account of the vine
husbandry, and the wines of France.

The fine turpentine tree is found in the southern parts
i;f France, as well as in the isle ofChio, and in the Indies:
the juice is the Chio, or Cyprus turpentine of the shops.
Considerable quantities of turpentine are also made in the
vicinity of Strasburg, from the silver fir; it is known by
the name of Strasburg turpentine.

Beech oil, drawn by expression from the mast of the

beech tree, after it has been shelled and pounded, is very
common in some parts of France, especially in the depart-
ment of the Aisne, and is used instead of butter. After
the oil has been extracted from the mast, the marc, as it is
called, is also used for food, in various ways; sometimes
simply as the extraction leaves it, in which state it is also
given to poultry, pigs, oxen and cows; or as flour, being
ground in a flour mill and boutted ; or as a kind of cheese,
(fromage,) in which case, as it comes from the press, it is
moistened with milk, and put into moulds. In Burgundy
and Franche Cornple, (he marc of walnuts is made into
this kind oi fromage, after the oil is extracted from it.
Walnuts are grov/n very extensively in France, and a great
deal of oil is made fiom them.

Chesnuts abound in France, particularly in the Limosin,
where the land is almost every where covered with chesnut
trees. The fruit serves for food to the country people,
but not, as has been asserted, reduced into flour to make
bread. Their manner of preparing chesnuts for food is as
follows : they take off" the first peel or rhind, when they are
dry, then tlicy boil them a little, to take off the second peel ;
and afterwards they boil them entirely, to reduce them into
a kind of pap. Thus prepared, they are said to afford a
pleasant and nourishing article of food to the peasantry of
the Limosin, and other parts of I'rance.

The caper shrub grows in great perfection in the south-
ern provinces, tsjiccially in the vicinity of Cuges, between
Aubagne and Toulon, where an extensive valley is wholly
devoted to the cultuie of them. The caper is not suffered
to grow here, as it does in many places, into a bush ; but
is made to creep on the ground in long runners ; and be-
ing cultivated only for the trade, is never l:ft to flower, it
being the little bud of the flower that is used for pickling.
The fruit also, which resembles a very small gherkin, is
pickled ; but these have the name oi cornichons, the French
name for gherkins : it is the flower-bud which has the ap-
pellation of capers. When suffered to flower, it is a very
beautiful shrub.

The islands of Hieres, not far from Toulon, were for-
merly famous for their orange groves. In the year 1565,
Charles IX. visited these islands in a progress he made
through the south of I'rance: he was accompanied by the
young King of Navarre, afterwards Henry IV. and the
Duke of Anjou ; and there was then an orange tree so
large, that these tliree royal personages, taking each other
by the hand, could but just encircle the stem: it had pro-
duced in one year 14,000 oranges. But tlie climate even
of the south of France, is not steadily warm enough for
this fruit; the severe winter of 1789 killed every tree in
the Hieres, down to the roots ; and the trees at present
there are only such as have shot up from their roots.
INIost of the oranges of Hieres are sent to Paris. In these
islands, and in some other parts of the south of France, the
lemOn, citron, date, and pomegranate, are not uncommon^
the lime is also cultivated, especially in Provence.

The trade of almonds carried on in France is considera-
ble, both on account of their oil, and the large quantity of
them used in Lent, either shelled or unshelled : a great
quantitv of the sweet almonds are used in sugarplumbs,
and of the bitter ones in biscuits, confectionary, b.c. The
grocers and druggists of FVance have both sorts from the
provinces in the middle and south of France, especially
Prover.ce, Languedoc, Tourraine, the county of Veniassin,
Avignon, &c. The best are those of the county of the
Venaissin; those from Chiron in Tourraine are the worst.
The environs of Aix are jwrticularly noted of all parts of
Provence, for the abundance of almonds they produce: they
are an uncertain produce; a frosty night will sometimes
come on, while they are in blossom, whicii is commonly

FRANCE.

421

about the end of January, and in a lew hours tlic greatest
part oftlie crop will be destroyed. At the time when the
almonds are gathered, it is a curious sight at Aix to see the
women sitting at their doors cracking them for the mer-
chants.. The shells being an excellent article of fuel,
great interest is made to get the almonds to crack, which
is paid by having the shells : a certain measure in the shells
is expected to produce a certain measure without them.
The jicrson cracking them has a basket of fruit on one side
of her, and another basket on the other side to receive them
■when cracked : she has a flat piece of stone on her knee,
and a bone with a knob to it in her hand ; and laying the
almond on tlie stone, she strikes it with the bone, which
seldom fails to crack it at the first stroke: it is then thrown
shell and all into the receiving basket, and when that is
full, the almonds are emptied out upon a large table, and
the kernels picked from among the shells. The whoie
process is performed with wonderful dexterity and rapi-
dity.

Figs are another important article among the productions
of Provence, as well as of several other districts of the
south of France. The most celebrated is a very small
green, or white fig, as it is olten called, which grows only
in the territory of Marseilles, whence it takes the name of
the fig of Marseilles. Brignolles in Provence, a town
about thirty miles from Marseilles, is one of the most fa-
mous places in the kingdom for the dried plums, which
are so well known by the name of French plumbs. Prunes,
or St Catherine's plumbs, constitute a lucrarive branch of
traffic, almost exclusively carried on at Tours and Chatel-
herault. These prunes are gathered at La Haie, Sainle
Maurevaux, Maudion, &c. They are prepared with the
greatest care at the jilaces where they are grown ; and sent
to the merchants of Tours and Chatelherault, who supply
every other part of France, as well as foreign countries,
with them. The grand purchases of this fruit are made
at the commencement of the new year, and of Lent: during
the latter season, the demand is particularly great at Paris,
and in other large cities and towns in France. Dried
plumbs of excellent quality are also prepared at Agen, Cu-
troen, Toulouse, and Bourdeaux.

Mulberries succeed best in the olive climate of France ;
Tours being the only place north of the maize climate,
where they are cultivated for silk with any success ; the
spring frosts being fatal impediments to their culture in
the central, and even sometimes in the southern districts of
the kingdom. Considerable experiments have been made
for introducing them into Normandy, Sec. but without suc-
cess. In proceeding from Paris to the south, they are not
met with till we come to Causade near Montauban ; there
are a few at Auch ; and even at Tours, the district in which
they are grown is of small extent. Before the time of
Henry IV. the mulberry trees had been propagated for
silk worms only in the Lyonnois, Dauphiny, Provence, and
Languedoc ; but that king carried them as far north as Or-
leans; he also planted them near Paris, and attempted to
breed silkworms at the Thuilleries, Fontaineblcau, and the
castle of Madrid, but without success. In the Lyonnois
the white mulberry succeeds extremely well, and a great
many silk worms are reared : the worms are kept in houses,
and the leaves carried to them. It is a singular spectacle
to see whole trees stripped of their leaves, and bearing the
appearance of winter when other trees are in full foliage.
A second crop of leaves, however, comes out, but not with
the beauty and luxuriance of the first; and they are often
gathered to give to the sheep and cattle when other food
fails. The white mulberry tree bears a more delicate kind
of leaf than the black, for which reason they are always
given to the silk worms, as the silk produced fromthemis

of a much finer cpiality : the fruit is vapid and good forno-
thing. The leaves are purchased and paid for according
to the size of the tree, by those who keep silk worms, but
have not mulberry plantations of their own.

The limits of the olive climate have been already de-
fined : They comprehend a very small portion of the south
and .south-east of the kingdom. In France, there is a great
dillerence in the quality of the oil produced from them;
that of the territory of Aix is rcckoiied the finest. Here
the trees are very small, commonly from about eight to
fourteen or fifteen feet in height. About Toulon and liie-
res the trees are taller, but the oil is of a less delicate (jua-
lity. The tree resembles a pollard willow in its general
appearance, and is by no means either beautiful or pictu-
resque. The fruit is gathered green for making the oil,
but if left to ripen, it becomes almost black. When they
are preserved, or pickled, they arc salted first for a few
days, and then put into jars with oil and vinegar. In most
houses in Provence lamps are used in the kitchen instead of
candles ; and among the lower classes they are used uni-
versally. Olive oil is used in them. The wood of the
olive tree makes excellent fuel when a brisk fire is wanted ;
but it partakes so much of tl;e greasy nature of the fruit,
that while it burns very bright, it also consumes very fast.
The time of gathering the olives is soon after the vintage.
In the hard winter of 1789, so many olive trees vi^ere de-
stroyed by the frost, and during the Revolution so few younc;
trees have been planted, that Aix, which was the principal
seal of the commerce in oil, has almost entirely lost this its
first and most lucrative branch of trade ; and as these trees
are many years in coming to perfection, this loss is not
likely to be soon compensated.

As there were aides and customs levied on the consump-
tion and export of wine previously to the Revolution, it
might have been supposed that the quantity of vineyards in
the kindom might have been estimated with a tolerable de-
gree of certainty, yet there is an amazing difference of opi-
nion on this subject. M. de Trone, author of a work on
the provincial administration of the taxes, is of opinion, that
their extent is 1,600,000 acres. In this calculation, M.
Mirabeau coincides ; but the author of Credit A'alionat, who
published only one year afterwards, calculates the quantity
at 18,000,000 arpents. M. Lavoisier supposes the produce
80,000,000 livres. The economists in the £nci/clo/iedie,
make the annual produce 500,000,000. This, at an ave-
rage produce per acre of 175 livres, would give 2,857,142
acres. Mr Young, after considering these and other cal-
culations, gives it as his opinion, that the vine is cultivated
on an extent that constitutes nearly the twenty-sixth part
of the territory of France, or about 5,000,000 of acres; and-
that grapes form about one-sixth part of its produce.

Tlie vine is cultivated on all kinds of soil : On the noble
and fertile plain of the Garonne ; on the richest lands in the
vale which extends from Narbonne to Nismes ; in the
vales of Dauphiny and the Loire ; and, in short, on every
sort of land in the wine provinces. They are, however,
perhaps most generally planted on rocky and inferior soils.

The general routine of cultivation is as follows : The
vines are planted promiscuously, three or four feet, or two
and a half from each other. In the middle of January they
give the cutting, taille ; in IVIarch they dig the ground; in
April and May they plant the /irovins ; in June tie and hoe
the se/is, — they are tied to the props with small strawbands,
—the hoe which is used is crooked ; irr August hoe again j
in October, or if the season has been favourable, in Sep-
tember, the vintage takes place. To plant an arpent of
vines costs in all 50 Louis d'or. There are SOOO plants on
an acre, 2400 seps. The props cost 500 livres ; to keep
up the stock of props 30 livres annually. It is three years

422

FRANCE.

before the vines bear any thing, and six before the wine is
good. The amount of labour per acre is about 21. : 12 : 6.
The net profit varies from 7 to 10 per cent. Great aiicn-
tion is paid in the choice of the bunches, and in freeing
every buncli from each grape that is the least unsound.
Sixty women are nccessiuy to gather the grapes for four
pieces of wine. Sucli is the general outline of tlie cuhure,
£cc. of the vine in France. The variations from this mode
will be afterwards noticed.

I. The province of Ciiampagne, which is now divided in-
to the departments of the Marne and the Higher Marne,
has long been celebrated for its vineyards. In this dis-
trict there are two kinds of wine : the white wines, called
Riviere de Marne wines ; and the red wines, called Montagnc
de H/ieims wines. The white wines are produced from
vineyards situated in the valleys, and upon the sides of the
hills in Epernay, Dizy, Avenay, Cramant, kc. It is a sin-
gular circumstance, that the estate of Cumieres, in the
midst of so many vineyards celebrated for white wines, and
under the same exposure, produces red wines only. The
country producing the fine white wine, is all contained in
five leagues length. Among all the vineyards on the
Marne, the cantons of Hautvillers, Marcueil, Cumieres,
and Epernay, are the most advantageously situated : They
extend along the Marne ; and it is remarked, that the qua-
lity of the wine falls off in proportion as the vineyard is dis-
tant from the river. South exposures on the banks of this
river produce excellent white wines. The slope which
overhangs Rheims is divided according to the quality of
its wines : Of these, the wines of St Thierry are the most
celebrated ; but the wine properly called Cloa Se Thierry,
which is produced in the archbishopric of Rheims, is the
only wine which unites the rich colour and flavour of Bur-
gundy with the sparkling lightness of Champaigne. Ctos
St Thierry holds the same rank among Champaigne wines,
that Clos-vougeot does among those of Burgundy. Sillery
wines, once so famous, were in a great measure composed
of the wines produced in the territories of Verznay, Mailly,
and St Basle. They were made by a particular process by
the Marshal D'Estrees, and for this reason were long
known by the name of Vins de la Mareschal ; but at the Re-
volution this estate was divided and sold.

In Champagne, and indeed in all the vine districts of
France, the south and the east exposures, and the middle
grounds, are preferred. In general, throughout this pro-
vince, the soils proper for vines rest on beds of chalk : they
are planted in November or December ; the plants are
inserted into turfs, or in longuettes. Grafting is not in
general use. A good plant will last 50 or 60 years. There
is not much vaiiety in the grapes of Champagne; the
black are generally preferred to the white. There are
whole cantons, however, where there are very few black
grapes, and yet their wine is in high estimation. In this
province, .the vine is pruned about the end of February or
beginning of March. It is never allowed to rise higher than
a foot and a half. At the end of March, or beginning of
April, when the thaws have softened the ground, the hoe-
ing commences. The following is the remainder of the
routine practised in the vineyards of Champagne; after
the cutting in February or March, and the hoeing in
March, as already mentioned. 3. They are pruned in
April or May. 4. Tied or propped up in the same months.

5. The next opeiation is the first trimming for the shoots.

6. Pared and tied in June. 7. Second trimming in July.
8. Third trimming in August. The vintage is in Septem-
ber or October.

Many precautions are necessary in making white wine ;
steeping before pressing makes red wine, the grapes be-
ing allowed to remain in the vessels till the first fermen»

tation iias begun in the colouring pellicle of the fruit. In
making while wine, great care is taken to keep the grapes
from the sun ; they are conveyed iiome in pannieis, cover-
ed with cloths, from which tliey are not emptied into the
press till after sun set: these precautions arc necessary to
Ijrevent fermentation. From twenty to forty panniers are
put into the press at a time ; the contents ol uvo panniers
produce hall a piece of wine. Forty panniers yield nine
or ten pieces of white wine, and each piece contains 200
bottles. The fruit is pressed by three successive and rapid
turns of the screw in some districts, and by two only in
olliers. The whole of the operation should be finished in
less than an hour. When the three pressures have been
effected, the wine produced from the juice is calleil vin
d'ctite, or choice wine ; after this -uin d'elite is extracted,
the remaining juice is pressed out by another turn of the
screw; this is called firemiere taille, the first cut, and is
often added to the vin d'elite. Another pressure is given
at a subsequent period, and the wine is called deuxieme
taitlc, or vin de tisanne , lastly, a poorer kind of wine, called
vin de rebechage, is produced by repeatedly pressing the
husks till they are perfectly dry. The while wines are
clarified with isinglass ; they are generally bottled in the
month of March. About the middle of August, the fer-
mentation in the bottles begins, and frequently there is a
loss by the end of September of from five to ten per cent,
by the bottles breaking When the white wines deposit
a sediment in the bottles, very minute care is requisite to
extract it. The wines of Champagne, after being put into
circulation, preserve their good qualities for ten years ; but
when they are kept in the cellars of their native province,
which are superior from the nature of the soil, (being dug
out of beds of chalk), they will continue good for 20 or 30
years.

The price of an acre (100 rods and 32 feet to the acre)
of the best vineyard ground in Champagne, varies from
2000 to 6000 livres ; the vineyards at Ay selling as high
as 6000 livres. The price of an acre of the second quality
varies from 1000 to 3000 livres. The ordinary expence
of cutting, hoeing, tyeing, and pruning the vines, is 80
livres the acre ; of occasionally propping such as have fal-
len, 60 livres; of props, 16 or 18 bundles, 50 in each bundle,
30 livres ; dung and carriage of the vines, 42 ; five pun-
cheons for the produce of an acre, 50 livres ; expence of
gathering, pruning, &c. 46 livres ; making a total expence
per acre of 308 livres. With respect to the produce of
an acre of vineyard in Champagne, it is generally under-
stood, that taking t-he average of 10 vintages, five pieces
or puncheons of wine are obtained from every acre ; three
of these are of the first quality, or choice wines, and two
of them are ordinary wines. Valuing the three puncheons
of the best wine at 150 livres each, and the two others at
50, the total produce will be 550 livres ; from which must
be deducted, besides 308 livres for labour, &c. the expence
of bottling, cooperage, and fining, 30 livres for the best
wines, and six for the inferior ; the annual interest of the
money laid out in the ground, 100 livres ; taxes, Sec. 72 ;
making in all, with the labour, 516 livres; which being
deducted from 550, leaves 34 livres as the net produce of
an acre of vineyard in Champagne, on an average of years.
This net produce, however, it is very difficult to fix, as
the wines of Ay, Haul Villers, Epernay, and Pierry, fre-
quently sell for 300 or 400 livres a piece, while some of
the other wines do not bring more than 90 or 100 livres.

It has already been mentioned, that this province is
equally famous for its red wines, and some parts of the
process by which they are made have been hinted at. To
make red wine, the black grapes in general are only pick-
ed and gathered. The juice is allowed to ferment, and

FRANCE.

423

the degree of fermentation is ascertained to be advan-
tageous, when a lighted candle cannot be held over the
tub without going out. When the fermentation has en-
tirely ceased, the puncheon is hermetically sealed. About
the end of December, and if possible in dry weather, the
wine is drawn off. About the middle of May, it is again
drawn off. A puncheon of red wine contains 240 bottles.
In general, the red wines of Haute Montagne are bottled
in the month of November, i. e. 13 months after the vin-
tage. The wines of St. Thierry can remain three or four
years on their lees. The best red wines of Haute Mon-
tagne, will keep in bottles in good cellars for six, eight,
ten, or twelve years. These cellars (already alluded to)
are from 25 to 40 feet in depth. Their temperature is
generally five degrees of Reaumur below that of the at-
mosphere ; the variations are seldom above half a de-
gree.

The cost of an acre of vineyard, for red wine of the best
quality, varies from 900 livres to 2000. That in Haute
Montagne bears the highest price ; the second class sells
from 300 to 900 livres. The annual expence of cultivating
an acre of red wine vineyard, including the expence of vin-
tage and of pruning, is about 200 livres.

Such are the general details of the culture of the vine
in Champagne. There are many vineyards, however, and
particularly in St Thierry, where the greater part of the
vines are always raised to the height of about five feet, and
supported by props of oak six feet high, and an inch in
diameter.

The following are the classes of the white and red wines
of Champagne :

First

class.

White Wines.

Red Wines.

Ay.

Verzieto.

Haut Villers.

Pierry.

Cramant.

Versinay.
Borezy.
Faissy.
Cumiercs.

Second

CLASS.

Avernay
Epernay
Le Meuil.
Avis.
Oger.

Mailly.

Damenay.

Epernay.

Rilly.

Montbret.

Ay.

Pierry.

Third

CLASS.

Tonnere.

Joigny.

Chaldy.
Ludes.

Tonnere.
Chamery.

Sadu.

Ville Domage,

Troispuits.
Villiers.

Parguy.
Safflecomte.

The first class comprises those wines which have long
been considered as luxuries at the French, English, and
Dutcli tables ; the second class comprehends wines, which
are not much inferior in flavour and tiuality to those of the
first class ; in the third class, are comprised the wines
most commonly used in France.

As many of the details respecting the managements, See.
of the vineyards and wines of Champagne, are applicable
to the other wine districts of France, we shall be more con-
cise in our observations respecting them.

IL The vines in the Bordelais, and generally in the
higher Guienne and Gascony, are not suffered to lie on the
ground like those of Provence and Languedoc, but are sup-
ported by poles, something like hops in England. The

wines produced in tlils district, are distinguished into Mc-
doc, Haut lirion. Valence, St Emilion, De Grave, Sec. The
best Medoc wines, are Lafittc, Latour, and Margouz.
Those of Vins de Grave, arc Haut Urion, Haut Valence,
Morignac, Pcssac, Laugon, Villenave, Sec. The ytn de
Laiigon, so called from a small town near which it is
made, is reckoned the best of all the white wines of the
Bordelais, which are included under the general name of
Vins cle Grave, from the sandy and gravelly soil in which
the vines grow. It has very much of the claret fiavuur.
There are other sorts in different districts, such as St
Julien, St Manubert, Pouillatj, St Laurent, Ludon, Ma9on,
Sic. Those which hold the first rank among the white
wines, are Carbonnieux, Serous, Barsac, Prigniac, Sau-
lerne, Baume, Etc. Of the white wine exported from this
district, the total annual amount may be from 85,000 to
90,000 tons. From 20,000 to 25,000 tons used to go to
the French colonial settlements m the East and West
Indies. About an equal quantity was exported to Nor-
mandy and Flanders. Those that are called crude wines
of Medoc, are almost all exported to England. The red
wines of Haut Brion, Valence, and in general those nam-
ed De Grave, are sent to Holland, Hamburg, and the
Hanse Towns. The best red wines of Montferant go to
Holland. Those of inferior quality, used to go to the
•French colonies, or the western departments ot the king-
dom. The white wines of Grave, Carbonnieux, Martillac,
Loegnau, &c. are sent to Denmark, Sweden, and the Bal-
tic ; but the best of these go in bottles to Paris. The red
wines of St Macaire, formerly went in part for the use of
the French navy, partly to Brittany and Normandy, tue rest
to Bremen and Lubec.

HI. Throughout Provence and Languedoc, the souc/ie,
or stem of the vine, is never suffered to grow higher tnan
about two feet from the ground. The shoots of the year
are always cut down to the stem soon after the vintage.
The new shoots put forth every year, are of an amazing
length. The grapes grow in a large cluster round the
roots of them, and are shaded by the shoots as by an um-
brella. The cuttings of the vine are made into faggots
for fuel. The vintage begins about the middle of Sep-
tember. The ordinary wines of Provence are not held in
much estimation ; but there are some of a superior quality,
the Muscat wines in particular, which are little inferior
to Frontigniac. Roquevarre, not far from Nans, is famous
for Muscat grapes. Great quantities are dried for raisins.
A wine is made in many parts of Provence, called Vin cuic.
It is not the produce of .iny particular kind of fruit, but
made from any common white grape, the juice being boil-
ed after it is pressed, till it is reduced about a fourth,
which gives it a richness and sweetness, not to be obtain-
ed by any other process. The Muscat wines are boiled in
like manner, as are also all the sweet wines. The pro-
cess of wine-making is very negligently performed in Pro-
vence in general ; there is no selection of grapes ; red,
white, ripe and unripe, are pressed promiscuously to-
gether. The method of pressing is very rude and simple.
A man, and commonly two or three children, pull off their
shoes and stockings, and jump into the vais, where they
trample on the grapes till all the wine is pressed out. The
only sort of grape used for drying, besides the Muscat, is
a large white grape called the Panse. Four or five bun-
ches of the fruit are tied together, and then dipped into a
cauldron of ley of wood ashes and water, as it is boiling
over the fire, till the grapes look streaky. Without this
process, they would turn black and wither when laid out
to dry, instead of retaining their sweetness and moisture.
After the dipping, they are hung upon a line for 24 hours,
and then separated, and spread upon a sort of hurdle made

424

FUANCE.

of reeds, which is laid out in tlic smi all day, but taken in
at niglit, to piotcct the triiit l'ro:Ti the dew. An excellent
sweetmeat is made lii Provence, and in other paits of
France, by boiling down the juice :ui<l pulp of the grape,
freed fronri tlic skins and stones, till it litconies a rich syrup,
■when slices of melon, lemon, i)ears, kc. are preserved in
it. It goes by the name of confiture rahmcc.

IV. The province of Burt;undy, in the opinion of many,
produces the choicest of the rrench wines. The best is
made at Baom, Nuilz, Romance, Prcnieau, Chambertin,
Belz, Coulange, Ci)assane, Volcn.iy, MaQon, and t;ios-
Vougeot.

V. Wine is also the produce of many other parts of
France. A great deal of the wines made in the Beau-
jolais, are sold under the name of Macon. The wines of
Anjoii and Orleannois arc thick and heady. Au vernal,
commonly called Cassc Taille, is made at Orleans, and is
a full good wine. Another Orleans white wine is Gene-
tin. Poitou produces a tolerably good while wine, which
resembles Rhenish. Hermitage is the produce of a vine,
which is grown upon the banks of ihe Rhone, between
Valence and St Vallicre. Near this also, the Cote roti is
made. It takes its name from the hill on which the
vines grow, being fully exposed to the warm rays of the
south sun, which contributes so much to the excellence of
the wine. The average yearly produce is nearly 1000
hogsheads. The true Viii de Cahors, which has a great
reputation, is the produce of a range of vineyards, very
rocky, on a ridge of hills to the south of Cahors, and is
called Vin de Grave, because growing on a gravelly soil.
The wine of Condrieaux,a small town in the Lyonnois, on
the banks of the Rhone, about seven leagues from Lyons,
is very much esteemed. The original plants from which
this wine is made, were, according to tradition, brought
from Dalmatia, by order of the Emperor Probus.

Luscious wines and liqueurs are common in other parts
of France, as well as Provence, of which those of Crotat
and St Laurent are the most esteemed. Frontigniac, a
town in the department of tl>e Herault, is remarkable for
its excellent muscadine wines. They are the most per-
fect, and the best adapted for keeping. Lunel, an old town
in the department of the Gard, is another place, in the vi-
cinity of which muscat grapes are cultivated in great quan-
tities, the soil being peculiarly suited to them. The mus-
cadine of Lunei is of a more delicate ilavour than Frontig-
niac, but it will not keep so well. The muscat grapes
grown here are also dried, and are sent all over Europe.
They are called in the country fiasnerilles. Aubagne, be-
tween Marseilles and Toulon, produces also muscadine
wine. The Malvoisie d''jluba!pie, as it is called, is particu-
larly celebrated. The muscadine of Rivesalles, a town in
the depariment of the Eastern Pyrenees, is richer than
eitl'.er Frontigniac or Lunel, and comes very near the Cape
wine. Bezieres is of a quality inferior to Rivesalles, Fron-
tigniac, and Lunel. Liqueurs of various sorts are made in
difTerent parts of France. Those of MontpcUier are most
esteemed. In the beginning of the last century, France
exported, upon an average of five years, from the year 1720
to 1725, annually, wine to the amoiuit of 20,880,200 livres;
in 1778, the exportation amounted to 24,570,170; in 1788,
to 33,032,100. The Revolution nearly annihilated the cx-
poriation of French wines.

The brandies made in France, are esteemed ih.e best in
Europe, They are distilled in every part of the kingdom
where vines are grown; and in the distiljalion, not only
wines of an inferior, but also those of the best quality, arc
used. The brandies most celebrated, or made in the great-
est quantities, are those of Bourdeaux, Rochelle, Cognac,
Charente, Isle of Rhe, Orleans, the country of Blesois, Poi-

tou, Tourraine, Anjoii, Nantes, Burf»undy, Champagne, kc.
Brandy is also a great article of trade at Montncllier. It
is of a milder quality than most ot the brandies of the south
of L'rance, and therefore better adapted for making the li-
(jucnrs, for which MontpcUier is so celebrated. Of all the
French brandies, those of Nantes, Cognac, and Poitou,
which aie nearly of the same quality, are the most esteem-
ed, because they have a finer taste, and are stronger. The
English, Dutch, Flemisii, and Hamburgers, used to take
ofl' the greatest part of these brandies. The brandies of
Anjou, Touiraine, Orleans, which are not of so good a
quality as those of Nantes, Sec. are most commonly sent to
Paris, and into Flanders. In the beginning of the last cen-
tury, the value of the brandy exported, amounted annually
to 5 852.900 livres; in 1778, to 4.660,221; in 1784, to
11.36),20() ; in 1787, to 14,689,600; and in 1788, to
14.657.300.

Vinegar is made in Provence, Guienne, the Orleannois,
Anjou, Aunis, Brittany, kc. The Orleans vinegar is es-
teemed the best. The flavour of the vinegar made in Pro-
vence is also good, but being of a red colour, from the hue
of the grapes from which it is produced, it has a singular
appearance to a person unused to it. The exportation of
vinegar in the beginning of the last century, amounted an-
nually to 34,400 livres; in 1778, to 141,893; in 1784, to
124400; in 1787, to 130,900; and in 1788, to 201,700.

Cider is made in most of those provinces, the climate of
which is not favouralile to the grape. Normandy is parti-
cularly celebrated for this liquor, where they also make
brandy of it.

We shall conclude this Chapter with a few words respect-
ing French horticulture. The fruit gardens at Montreuil
are a curious instance of the accumulation of capital in a
small space : These gardens are said to be worth 400/.
sterling an acre. All the occupiers are proprietors. The
environs of Lyons are celebrated for their excellent arti-
chokes : They are carefully conveyed in great quantities
to the tables of the rich all over the kingdom. Vegetables
for the table are also cultivated in great perfection in Pro-
vence, and particularly about Aix. The country for some
distance without the town, especially on the south side, is
a continued scene of kitchen garden. The vegetable for
which they are most famous, is what they called cardes :
a plant very much resembling the artichoke, but not grow-
ing to a head in the same way. The roots always make
part of a Christmas dinner. Aix is so famous for them,
that at this season presents are sent of them from thence
all over the country. The salads of Aix also, particularly
in winter, are esteemed uncommonly good. The tomato
or love apple, the aubergine or fruit of the purple egg plant,
gourds, and capsicums, are likewise much cultivated in
the gardens of Provence. The inhabitants of RoscofF, a
town on the northernmost point of the department of Finis-
terre, particularly apply themselves to the raising vegeta-
bles for the table ; and in this they are so eminently suc-
cessful, that Brest, Morlaix, and several other towns, draw
their supplies almost entirely from them; and they are
sometimes sent as far as L'Orient and Quimper, in the
southernmost districts of the department. Cauliflowers,
brocoli, cabbages, turnips, asparagus, and artichokes, are
especially produced here in amazing abundance, and of an
excellent quality.

But ihough France has made great advances in the use-
ful branph of horticulture, she is far behind in the orna-
mental : The strait avenue, the terrace, and the parterre,
with formal basons, and. jets-d'eau, are still the only objects
which, in the opinion of the generality of Frenchmen, can
constitute real grandeur and beauty in a garden.

FRANCE,

425

CHAP. V.

Manufactures of France — Historical notices of them — ti
Situation and State fire-uiouslij to the Revolution — Jiffi
produced on them bij that event.

■their
"ects

The consideration of the aj^riculture of France has de-
tained us long. The account of tlie manufactures and com-
merce of tliat kingdom will not occui)y nearly so much
space ; for France always has been, and probably always
will be, more distinguished by the productions of her soil,
than by the productions of her manufacturing and commer-
cial industry.

In considering her manufactures and commerce, we shall,
in the fust place, present some historical notices respect-
ing them, — pointing out their origin and their principal
eras, so far as they can be ascertained. In the second place,
we shall give an account of their state and condition pre-
viously to the Revolution : And, lastly, we shall notice, in
most cases briefly and generally, but in some instances
inore particularly, the effects which that event has produ-
ced upon them. We are induced to dwell more fully on
their state previously to the Revolution than since it occur-
red, from two considerations : In the first place, even if
their state since could be accurately and impartially ascer-
tained, it would afTord no just and permanent picture of
them, on account of the great fluctuations, or rather the
great depression, to which the Revolution must have sub-
jected them ; but, in the second place, it is impossible to
gather correct details regarding the manufactures and com-
merce of France as they now exist ; for, although annual
exposes have been published, yet the falsehoods and exag-
gerations which they notoriously contain, peremptorily pro-
hibit us from placing- any faith in them. All that we know,
in general, is, that by the revolutionary wars the commerce
of France has been almost annihilated, and that, many
branches of her manufactures have been greatly depressed.
As, however, her commerce will probably, when it revives,
revert into the channels in which it flowed previously to
the events which have nearly destroyed it, and as such al-
so will probably be the case with her manufactures, we
have deemed it proper to consider more particularly their
state previously to the Revolution, subjoining what infor-
mation we have been able to collect regarding the efl"ccts
that event has produced on them. And first, with respect
to her manufacutures :

I. The earliest notice which we can trace of any branch
of the manufactures of France, occurs in the fourth centu-
ry. It is afforded by St Jerome, in his second book against
Jovinian, where he speaks of a manufactory of stuffs wliich
was then at Arras, and which Avas much esteemed. But
the first establishment of the cloth manufactures of that
kingdom, a branch for which it has always been greatly
celebrated, cannot be accurately traced. That they were
extensive and important in the beginning of the 14lh cen-
tury, is evident from some letters which exist from the
King of France to the King of England, in which he ex-
presses great anxiety to procure English wool at StOmers
and Lisle. In 1346, the King of France attempted to de-
tach the Flemings from the interest of King Edward, by
sending them the wool of France at alow price, and oblig-
ing his subjects to use no other wool, while their cloth
made of French wool was to be procured : Thus offering
to sacrifice the woollen manufacture of his kingdom. The
next notice we have of the manufactures of France occurs
in 1453, at which period some branches of them appear to
have flourished considerably. This is evident from the
account which her historians give of Jacques Cosur, who,
by his loan of 200,000 crowns, greatly contributed to ena-

Vol. IX. Past. II.

ble the King to expel the English. Tliis merchant, at a
time when trade was scarcely known in France, is said to
have employed 300 factors to manage his vast commerce,
that extended to the rurks and Russians in the East, and
the Saracens of Africa, at that period the most remote na-
tions known to the merchants of Europe. His exports con-
sisted chic II y of woollen cloths, linens, and paper, then the
princi])al manufactures of France; and his returns were
silks, (which proves that this manufacture was not thtii
established, or at most only in its infancy,) spiceries, kc.
Indeed we know, from other sources, that the first consi-
derable and regular attempts to establish the silk manufac-
ture, occurred in the reign of Francis I. in the year 1521.
This monarch took great pains to i)rocure workmen from
Milan, while he possessed that duchy. In this manufac-
ture the French made a great progress, principally at Ly-
ons, and other (larts of the south of France, and soon sup-
plied many parts of Europe with silk goods; yet it was
long after this time, as we shall afterwards shew, before
she got into the method of raising raw silk from the worms.
In the reign of Henry III. some attention was paid to manu-
factures. At this period they were neither numerous,
nor advanced to a state of any perfection. Articles of ele-
gance and luxury were imported from foreign nations, and
even such as were of general consumption had not attained
beyond their infancy. Leather and parchment, however,
were prepared with some dexterity at Troyes in Cham-
pagne ; and this place was likewise renowned for the good-
ness of its dyes, in which occupation the inhabitants were
principally emi)loyed. A manufacture of white paper was
established at BrignoUes, in Provence, about the beginning
of Henry the Second's reign ; and there seems to have been
others in the kingdom. In the manufacture of iron and
steel the French were then very deficient. Their fire arms
they procured from Lombardy. Charles IX. indeed, en-
deavoured to introduce among his soldiers musquets made
at Mctz and Abbeville, where manufactures of arms were
established, but they were so heavy and awkwardly made
that the attempt was laid aside. The same monarch brought
to Paris, Italian manufacturers, who finished there the mo-
rions, or head-pieces, which were manufactured and pur-
chased at Milan. In the reign of Henry III. gunpowder
was made in France, but not in suflicient quantity to render
the importation of it, as well as of saltpetre, unnecessary.
Genoa, in particular, supplied the French with gunpowder.
But the first grand era of the manufactures of France
must be fixed in the reign of Henry IV. The monarchs
before him had occasionally encouraged particular manu-
factures; but their encouragement being partial and tem-
porary, and not proceeding from any clear or profound viewa
on the subject, went a little way in the completion of the
object they had in view. Henry IV. on the contrary, ma-
turely considered the best means for promoting and che-
rishing manufactures; and though we can hardly suppose
that Sully, who greatly preferred agriculture to manufac-
tures or commerce, entered very cordially into the views
of his master, yet there can be no doubt that Henry profited
by his penetration and good sense. Before this reign, the
silk-worm and mulberry trees had been propagated only in
the Lyonnois, Dauphiny, Provence, and Languedoc ; and
so destitute was France of articles of luxury, that in 1599,
Henry issued an edict prohibiting the importation of fo-
reign silks. The inhabitants of the city of Tours had ex-
torted from him this prohibition by their importunities, un-
dertaking to supply all the national demand for silk, as well
as for gold and silver stuff's. But they could not perform
their engagement; and in 1603, the King was obliged to
rescind the edict. Sully entertained great and almost in-
surmountable prejudices against the ^ilk manufacture, and

426

FRANCE.

was impressed with the belief that the climate of France
was unfavourable to rearing the silkworm. Henry, liow-
ever, was not to be discouraged. As we have already
mentioned, in 1603, temporary builnings were consuiicted
at Fonlainebleau, at the castle of Madrid, and at the Tliuil-
leries, for silk-worms. Mulberry trees were planted in
various provinces, in which they had not been previously
cultivated, especially in the vicinity of Paris, Orleans, and
Tours. The government caused pamphlets on the art of
cultivating these' trees, and preserving the silk-worms, to
be distributed. A council of commerce was instituted.
In 1605, the king procured silk-worms from Valencia in
Spain. These measures were successful, so far as they
respected the southern and some of the central provinces
of the kingdom. But Henry's attempts to rear the silk-
worm so far north as the capital proved abortive. Befoie
his death, however, he witnessed the general good effects
of his exertions and perseverance. Foreigners began to
repair to Lyons, which city was soon enriched by the silk
manufacture; and it is expressly stated, that the southern
provinces of Languedoc, Dauphiny, and Provence, derived
from it, in the course of only seven years from its establish-
ment, greater profits annually, than from the joint produce
of their oil, wines, and sweetmeats, the ancient and natural
productions of the comitry.

Henry did not confine his attention and his encourage-
ment to the silk manufacture, though this appears to have
excited and retained his warmest interest. Gold and silver
tissues, of various kinds, and of exquisite beauty, were ma-
nufactured at Paris, by workmen whom he brought from
Milan, and induced to settle in the capital, under his im-
mediate protection. The Gobelins tapestry, of such une-
qualled delicacy, and afterwards so much admired over all
Europe, was begun in one of the suburbs of Paris, under
the direction of artists from Flanders ; but as this manu-
facture seems to have sunk, and was not revived till a fu-
ture reign, we shall afterwards have occasion to notice it
more particularly. Looking-glasses, in imitation of those
cast at Venice, and which had been formerly made in the
reign of Henry H. at St Germain, were again undertaken
witli success at Paris and at Nevers. Earthen ware, white
and painted, was fabricated w ith the same beauty as in Ita-
ly. It appears from a passage in Sully's Memoirs, that
the art of enamelling had attained, before 1603, a very con-
siderable degree of perfection. Crapes, equal to those of
Bologna, were manufactured in the castle ef Mantes, upon
the Seine ; and the manufacture of linen, similar to that of
the Dutch, was begun. In the suburbs of St Honoie and
St James, the lower orders of the inhabitants of Paris found
employment ; as there were there great manufactories of
gilt leather for the furniture of houses. Before this reign,
iron liad been cut and split by the hand ; but mills for
those purposes were now established on the river Estam-
pes: and steel, which had been previously procured from
Piedmont, began to be manufactured in the suburb of St
Victor in Paris: A native of Provence discovered a me-
thod of making ropes, and even a kind of coarse linen, with
the bark of the white mulberry-tree; and an inhabitant of
St Germain carried to a perfection previously unknown, the
art of making leaden pipes and spouts for the conducting
of water. Before lliis reign, white lead was always import-
ed ; but it was now prepared and sold at a moderate price.
Manufactures of gauzes, and thin linen cloth, as well as of
woollen cloth and serges, were also encouraged and ex-
tended by Henry.

Giovanni Botero, an Italian author, who, in 1590, wrote
a small treatise on the causes of the magnificence and
greatness of cities, represents France at this period as
among the greatest, richest, and most populous kingdoms

of Christendom. According to him, it contained 27,000
parishes, and 15,000,000 of people ; and was so fertile by
nature, and so rich, through the industry of its inhabitants,
as not to envy any other country. In another place he re-
presents France as possessing what he calls fcur great
magnets, which attract the wealth of other countiies, viz.
corn, which is exported to Spain and Portugal; wine,
which is sent to Flanders, England, and the coasts of the
Baltic ; salt, made by the heat of the sun on the shore of
the Mediterranean, and also of the ocean as far north as
Saihlonge. The fourth consists of hemp and cloth, " of
wliich, and of cordage, great quantities are carried to Lis-
bon and Seville, for the shipping; and the exportation of
the articles of this fourth class is incredibly great."

It might have been supposed, that the civil wars, by
which I' ranee was convulsed during the I6th century,
would have been fatal to her manufactures, or at least
would have depressed them for a considerable length of
time. Tills, however, does not seem to have been the case.
" I remember," says Brantome, " in the first civil wars,
Rouen was carried by storm, pillaged and sacked during
several days ; yet, when Charles IX. and his mother passed
through it, about fifteen or sixteen months afterwards, to
their astonishment, ail traces of that calamity had disap-
peared, and nothing but opulence was visible."

The Political 7\»<a;«f?i« of Cardinal Richelieu gives us
some msiglit into the state of the manufactures of France
about the year 1635 ; and from it, it appears that even then
she abounded with the finest and best of manufactures ;
such (says he) as the serges of Chalons and of Chartres,
which have superceded those of Milan. The Turks pre-
fer the French dra/ia de sceau of Rouen before all others,
except those of Venice, which are made of Spanish wool.
Such fine plushes are made at Tours, that they are seni
into Spain, Italy, Sec. ; also fine plain taffeties, red, purple,
and spotted velvets, finer than at Genoa. France is the
only place for silk serges. Mohair (camblet) is made as
good here as in England, and the best cloth of gold, finer
and cheaper than in Italy.

The manufactures of France, iiov.'ever, do not seem to
have met with much encouragement from the government
during the reign of Louis XIII. The next important eia
is the age of Louis XIV. His minis'.er, Colbert, was ex-
tremely anxious to establisli new maniiiactures in France.
The principal of those that were either introduced, or esta-
blished and extended in this reign, were those of Sedan,
Abbeville, the Gobelins, and the glass manafacture of St
Gobins.

1. The manufacture of fine cloth at Sedan, both black
and coloured, which has been so long celebrated, owes its
birth and perfection to Nicolas Cadeau. This person was
a native of France, who had become acquainted with the
mode practised in Holland of manufacturing fi:;e cloths.
In 1646, he entered into partnership with Jolm Binet and
Yves de Marseiiics, two rich merchants of Paris; and, in
the same year, they obtained a patent for the manufacture,
for twenty years, of woollen cloths, black as well as all
other colours, tliat should be made after the fabric and man-
ner of Dutch cloths. For their further encouragement^
tb.ey had each a pension of 500 livres for lile, and their
children were ennobled in France ; their foreign workmen
declared to be denizens of that kingdom, free from being
quartered on by soldiers, and from all taxes and excises.
The directors were also allowed 8000 livres annually, for
carrying on the manufacture during the term of the pa-
tent.

2. The exclusive privilege of Cadeau and his partners
was on the point of expiring, when Josse Vanrobais, a
Dutch merchant, made a proposal to set up a new manii-

FRANCE.

427

facture of fine clotlis at AI)l)CviIlc in PicaixJy, in imitation
of those of Spain and Holland. This pi'oposai was ininiB-
tliatcly agreed to by Colbci't, who brought Vanrobais from
Holland, t^ranted him a patent, and settled liini and his
workmen at Abbeville, liy this patent, which was dated in
October 1669, Vanrobais obliires himself to set on foot
thirty woollen looms, with as many fulling-mills as should
be necessary, and procure fifty Dutch workmen to be em-
jjloyed in llie manufactory. Encouragements and privi-
leges, similar to those granted to Cadeau, were bestowed
on him. In 1681, having punctually fulfilled his engage-
ments, he obtained a renewal of his patent for fifteen years,
on condition of setting up fifty looms instead of thirty. In
1698, atliird renewal was granted for ten years, to the bro-
thers and soTisofthe projector, who had now eighty looms
in their manufactory. In 1708, the looms exceeded a hun-
dred ; and there were about six hundred men, women, and
children, employed upon the spot, in picking the wool,
vinding, warping, weaving, sheaving. Sec. At this time, a
fourth patent was granted, in which the King gave per-
mission to all noblemen to enter into partnership, without
<lerogation to their titles or honour; and, to encourage the
sale of these and other French woollen goods in Turkey,
he advanced money to the merchants of iVlarseillcs out of
his treasuiy, to be repaid after the return of their ships
from Turkey.

3. We have already mentioned, that Henry IV. esta-
blished a manufacture of tapestry in the suburbs of the me-
tropolis, but that it does not seem to have succeeded. This
manufacture was revived with more success by Colbert :
it obtained the name of Gotielines, because the house where
the manufacture is carried on was built by two brothers,
whose names were Gobelines, wlio first brought to Paris
the secret of the beautiful scarlet dye, which has preserved
their name, as has also the little river Bievre, upon v/hose
banks they first settled. Colbert purchased the ground
from these brothers, for the purpose of establishing there
a manufacture of tapestry, similar to that of Flanders. He
was particularly anxious on this point, in order that he
might procure suitable furniture for the royal palaces,
which he had rebuilt and ornamented, ])articularly the
Louvre and Thuilleries. With this view, he collected to-
geilier Gome of the most able workmen in tiie kingdom, in
all sorts of manufactui-es and arts, particularly painters, ta-
pestry-weavers, engravers, goklsmitlis, and workers in
ebony. Tlie tapestry-weavers were procured from Flan-
ders; separate superintendants of the raised and of the
Kinooili tapestries were appointed ; and another Fleming
was vested with the management of the wool-dyeing de-
partment. The manufacture of tapestries commenced in
166S,butdid not flourish till 1666, when it was endowed
vviih many privileges, and denominated, in the edicl, the
Royal Manufactory of the Crown Furniture. At length,
the celebrated painier Le Brun was appointed chief direc-
tor of the Gobelin manufactures, to wliich he communicat-
ed that beauty and grandeur, which his admirable talents
were so well calculated to introduce. The tapestries were
brought to a high state of perfection during the adminis-
tration of Colbert and Louvois. During the administra-
tion of the former, Alexander's battleb,"the four seasons,
the iuur elements, and the history of the principal acts of
Louis XIV. from his marriage to his first conquest of
Franche Comple, were wrought at the Gobelines from the
designs of Le Brun. Lovjvois caused tapestries to be made,
during his admii.ibtration, afier the most beautiful originals
in the king's cabinet, of Raphael. Julio Romano, and other
famous painters in tiic schools of Italy, which were first
drawn in larger dimensions by the most able French pain-
ters, such as La Fosse, u»e two Co-ypels, Jouvenet, Per-

son, kc. The Gobelines mamifaclurc, at rtnc period, ex-
perienced a decline, tircat abuses had crept into it ; 1<S
remedy which, and revive the establishment, many com-
mittees were held at the house of M. Pagon, the financier,
in 1737. At this time also considerable improvements
were made in the mode of using the paintings, after which
the tapestry was to be manufactured. There has always
been an academy within the manufactory, in which tfie
youths designed for artists arc instructed in the various
branches of the art, at the expense of the nation, and ar«
also taught the other trades attached to the Gobelines. The
wool and silk used in the tapestries are dyed in a part of
the manufactory appropriated to that purpose, as it would
be otherwise very difficult to procure the infinite variety
of tints and shades which are required. The materlafe
are ready spun wools from the south of Franca, and the
silks of Lyons.

4. Louis XIV. seems to have been particularly anxiotis
respecting the complete establishment and the perfection
of those glass manufactures, which had been introduced
by Henry II. and Henry IV. ; but his efforts at first were
unavailing. Artists were brought from Venice, and the
king, for their encouragement, granted the directors and
proprietors many privileges and immunities, and supplies
of money. He was not, however, disheartened by his fai-
lure at first, but by perseverance at length succeeded to
such a degree, that the glass manufactured at St Gobins
was superior to that of Venice, both in quality and quanti-
ty. In order to facilitate and secure a good market for
this manufacture, Louis, by an edict, laid a duty upon fo-
reign glass imported into France to such an amount, as
nearly to prohibit it ; and a few years afterwards, finding
that the home manufacture had still need of further pro-
tection and encouragement, he absolutely prohibited the
importation of foreign glass. One circumstance in parti-
cular seems to have retarded the establishment and pro-
gress of this manufacture at first. We have already men-
tioned, that in the reign of Henry II. and Henry IV. it was
established in the immediate vicinity of the metropolis ; the
consequence was that a scarcity of wood was felt ; and_ it
wa's removed into the neighbourhood of a large forest, with
the advantage of a river, to ease the expence of carriage.
This forest was that of St Gobins, whence the manufacture
took its name. The whole is situated at the lop of a small
hill, close to the village of St Gobin, near La Fere and
Chaumy,two towns in Picardy. The very white sand used
in the manufacture is brought from the neighbourhood of
Creil, a place II leagues distant from Paris: the glasses
are sent by water to the capital, where they are polished
and silvered.

Louis XIV. encouraged other manufactures besides
those which we have just mentioned. By an edict of the
19th of October 1688, he granted to Noel dc Varcnnes dif-
ferent immunities, to encourage him to carry on the manu-
facture of Diap de Londres, or cloth made in imitation of
what was sent fiorn London to Turkey, in the province of
Langnedoc. Afterwards that province was obliged to fur-
nish Magi and his partners with 30.000 livrcs to carry on
the same manufacture at Clermont a^d Sette. It also ap-
pears by another edict that this Monarch yearly appropri-
ated a million of livres, exclusive of indulgences in the
customs, to engage and reward skilful masters and artifi-
cer;., who undertook to set up fabrics of tloth, silk, camel
and goal's hair, crystals, and other commodities. In 1695,
a patent was granted to Isaac RobeHn, engineer, director ot
tlie fortifications uf Burgundy, for the exclusive privelege
of settling a tin manufacture in different parts ot the king-
dom. Bv an arret of 1703, it appears that the manufac-
tures of bays, perpets, and serges, whicn iiad been set up,
3 H 2

428

FRANCE.

after the union between the ci-owns of France and Spain,
had ah'cady attained such perfection as to rival those of
England.

Towards the close of the 17th century, the manufactures
of France were not only very numerous, liut many of them
■\verc carried on to very great extent, and supplied forcitjn
nations. She supplied almost all Eiu-opc with all kinds of
curious manufactures, toys, kc. England received from
her a vast quantity of silk, linen, sail-cloth, canvas, beaver
hats, glass, watches, clocks, paper of all kinds, iron ware,
principally the manufacture of Auvergne, shalloons, tam-
mies. Sec. fi-om Picardy and Champagne, wines and bran-
dies ; and Holland received most of these ai tides, besides
saffron, soap, wood, honey, &c. The revocation of the edict
of Nantes in 1684, gave a fatal blow to some of the most
flourishing and lucrative manufactures of France, and may
be said to have done them far more mischief than they had
received benefit, by all the measures of Louis in their fa-
vour. The people whom he thus violently forced out of
his kingdom, were generally, throughout all France, the
best merchants, artificers, and manufacturers of that king-
dom. Those who had most money retired into England
and Holland ; but the most industrious part of them settled
in Brandenburg, where they introduced the manufactures
of cloth, serges, stuffs, druggets, crapes, caps, stockings,
hats, and also the dyeing of all sorts of colours. Tlie gold-
smiths, jewellers, watch-makers, and carvers, settled in
Berlin. From this account, and from the additional fact
that England is indebted to the refugees for her silk manu-
factures, and also for improvements in the manufacture of
paper, hats, glass, watches, cutlery ware, jacks, locks, sur-
geon's instruments, hardware, kc. we may form a pretty
clear and accurate opinion, both of the state of manufac-
tures in France, at the period of the revocation of the edict
of Nantes, and of the irreparable mischief which Louis in-
flicted on those manufactures by that revocation.

The most important circumstance in the history of the
manufactures of France, during the 18th century, previ-
ously to the commencement of the Revolution, respects the
establishment of the cotton manufacture. The precise aera
is not accurately known ; but it was certainly carried on at
Rouen in Normandy, a considerable time before the middle
of the 18th century ; and it is said to have been introduced
by a Mr Holkar, probably an Englishman. Before the year
1747, the manufacture of cottons, or cotton-linens as they
were then called, was established at Nantes in Brittany,
where it was supposed it would succeed better than in
Rouen, as cotton, wool, and indigo were cheaper. Such
are the principal aeras in the history of the manufactures of
France ; we shall now proceed to consider their state, be-
fore they were affected by the Revolution.

n. It may be proper to premise, that they are consider-
ed to have flourished most between the years 1 650 and 1750;
and that, subsequently to the last period, several causes,
but chiefly the rivalship of English manufactures, acted un-
iavourr.bly on them. The following are the principal ma-
nufactures which were carried on in France, before the Re-
volution, most of which still exist, though several of them
are now very much depressed.

1. The ii'oollen manufacture. Cloths of different quali-
ties form the most important and extensive part of this
manufacture ; and the finest cloths are those for which
F' ranee has always been chiefly celebrated. The very su-
perfine French cloths are made at Louvieresin Normandy ;
those of Abbeville, in Picardy, though fine, are not to be
compared with them in quality. The Londrines, made at
Carcassone in Languedoc, which were formerly the most
successful manufacture in France, so far as concerned tlie
rivalry of England, and were manufactured expressly for

the Turkisii and Chinese markets, are also of fine quality.
The cloths of Julienne, and the superfine fabrics of Sedan,
as well in scarlet as in other bright colours, and in black,
are fit only for the rich. Fine cloths are also manufactured
at Rouen, Darcntal, Audelis, Montauban, and in various
places in Latiguedoc and Champagne ; but these are of va-
rious degrees of fineness, and applicable to various pur-
poses. Those of Andclis in Normandy are fine mixed
cloths, similar to such as are made at Abbeville. There
are fabrics of a second sort of cloth at Elbeuf in Normandy,
and at Sedan: those of Elbeuf are best suited for workmen
and mechanics. Chateaurouge, before the Revolution, fur-
nished a great deal of livery cloth. Romarantin, Issodo-
ren, and Lodere, furnish cloths for military clothing. There
are still inferior coarser cloths, made for the wear of the
paysans and country labourers. The fabrics at Rheims,
before the Revolution, beside the sort called dra/ia de
Rhiims, consisted of an imitation of Silesian drapery, called
SiieiicSf imitations of our Wiltons, called wittons, and casi-
meres, which they called maroes. Ratteens were made at
Roybons, Crest, and Saillans ; cloths and ratteens at Ro-
mans ; cloths for billiard tables at St Jean-en Royans. Cloths
of different descriptions ind qualities were also made at
Grenoble, Valence, Troves, St Leo, Bayeux, Amboise,
Niort, Coutange, Lusignon, kc. In the rank of coarse
cloths, may also be placed the woollen stuffs of Aix, Apt,
Taras^on, Oleron, Orthes, Bagneres, Pau, Auch, the val-
ley of Aure ; the cloths of Cevennes, Sommieres, Limoux,
&c. The greater part of these cloths bear the names of
the various places in which they are fabricated. Besides
cloths, properly so called, camblets, callimancoes, baizes,
kerseys, wool and hair plushes, are made at Amiens ; drug-
gets, flannels, blankets, f.t Rheims ; blankets in the suburbs
of Paris ; flannels at Beauvais; serges at Aumale, Bicomt,
kc. ; camblets and plushes at Margny ; hosiery at Com-
peigne and Rheims.

In endeavouring to ascertain the state of the woollen
manufactures, previously to the Revolution, other particu-
lars regarding it will be noticed, as well as other places
pointed out, where the several branches were carried on
with success. The above is only a general sketch of it.

In the flourishing period of the manufactures of Picardy,
it was calculated, that, in the city of Amiens only, they
made 129,800 pieces of woollen stuff, besides 50,000 pieces
brought from the adjacent parts, which for that reason were
called etoffcs foreignes. The value of the woollen manu-
facture at this place was computed to amount to nearly
1,600,000 livres annually. The extent and value of the
manufactures of Abbeville were little inferior to those of
Amiens. At Beauvais, 500 looms were employed in mak-
ing the two sorts of clolli manufactured there, and 40 full-
ing-mills: 68,000 pieces of cloth were manufactured of
745,000 pounds of French wool, and 115,000 pounds of
Spanish. The wool grown at this period in the province
of Picardy, and used along with Spanish wool in their ma-
nufactures, amounted to 524 milliers. In that division of
Champagne, which, previously to the Revolution, was call-
ed the department of Rheims, there were made, in the flou-
rishing period of its manufactures, 84,000 pieces of stuff.
In this department were included Rheims itself, Sedan,
Vervins. In the generality of Poitiers, principally at Poi-
tiers itself, and Niort, were annually made from 25,000 to
30,000 pieces of stuff'; in the Orleannois, about 25,000
pieces of cloth. Romarantin, in this district, already no-
ticed, made nearly 6000 pieces. In the province of Anjou,
Tourraine, and Maine, about 18,000 pieces of stuff. In
Berry, there were 34 places v.'here cloth and other woollen
stuffs were made ; seven of which made from 3000 to 4000
pieces each ; si.\ from 2000 to 3000 j and the rest about 800

FRANCE.

429

or 'JOO pieces. The tapestry made in tliis generality
amounted to 80,000 livres annually. In Hrittany, 800 looms
were employed, cliiefly in making light stulTs. The prin-
cipal places, Nantes, Rcnnes, St Brieux,8;c. In Norman-
dy, the woollen manufacture flourished extremely : in the
generality of Rouen (that is, a division of the province over
which an inspector of the woollen manufactures was pla-
ced), there were 12 looms, principally employed in nuuiu-
facluring cloth, serges, and tapestry. The chief places for
cloth were Darental, Elbeuf, and Louvieres. In the gene-
rality of Alenyon, another division of Normandy, upwards
of 60,000 pieces of cloth, and other drapery, were made :
the principal places were Alen^on and Aumale, in wiiich
latter place 1200 looms were employed in the manufacture
of serge. Burgundy, Dauphiny, and Provence, were not
very celebrated for their woollen manufactures. There
was, however, a considerable manufacture of stockings at
Dijon : about 1000 pieces of cloth made at St Jean-en-Roy-
ans, and about 6000 pieces at Romans. The manufactures
of Languedoc were very important and flourishing. At
Lodeve, 45,000 pieces, white and grey, were made ; at Be-
zieres, Sept, and Carcassone, the manufactures were equal-
ly flourishing. In the middle of the last century, the an-
nual product and manufacture of Languedoc, so far as it re-
lates to our present topic, was as •bllows : sheep 1,000,000
livres ; fustians and basins 90,000 ; blankets 230,000 ; bcr-
games and tapestry 20,000 ; woollen stuffs, fine and coarse,
4,100,000; cloths, principally fine, 8,450,000 ; woollen stock-
ings 40,000 ; hats 400,000 ; making a total of 14,330,000 li-
vres. In French Flanders there were also pretty considerable
manufactures of woollen goods, of various descpiptions.
At St Omer's, 350 looms were employed in making cloth,
druggets, besides a great many stocking frames. At Lisle
there were nearly 1000 looms employed in making cam-
blets, besides several hundred in making callimaneoes, Sec. ;
and 200 frames in making stockings and caps. Above
300,000 pieces of stuff" were made annually at this place.
At St Pour, between Marseilles and Toulon, there is a ma-
nufacture of red worsted caps, which arc very much worn
by the peasantry of Provence, and the fishermen of Mar-
seilles. Hence arose the bcnmet rouge during the Revolu-
tion. It was introduced by the Marseillois as the fashion
of their country. To this account a few miscellaneous arti-
cles may be added. Carpets were made at Rouen, at Ar-
ras, and at Felletin, a small town in the Lower Marche :
these were called tapestry carpets; those made at Tournay
were called carpets oi inoiicade ; tapestry at Arras, as well
as the other places mentioned above; blankets in Norman-
dy, Auvergne, and Languedoc ; at Dartenat in Normandy,
the best and finest ; at Vernon, in the same province, of an
inferior quality.

Such is a sketch, necessarily brief and imperfect, of the
principal branches of the woollen manufactures of France
at the period of their most flourishing state. Long before
the Revolution, however, many of them had declined to a
considerable degree. A few years previous to tliat event,
the woollen manufacture at Carcassone was by far the most
important. In 1786, the following is the state and balance
of the trade in cloth for exportation to the Levant, manu-
factured at this place.

They manufactured every year at Carcassone 64,800
pieces of cloth, of which 800 only were sold in the king-
dom for home consumption : the remainder exported to the
Levant. The whole amount of cloth exported was worth
11,136,000 livres. The greatest part of the wool used in
that manufactory was French wool, chiefly from Rousillon
and Languedoc. They used avast quantity of tin and co-
chineal in their dyeing. The cost of dyeing was estimated
ate livres each piece of cloth. The price of the 300 bales

of wool, each of 300 lbs. imported from Spain to mix with
the native wool, came to 270,000 livres. Tlie price of the
drugs to 384,000; making a total sum, paid for raw mate-
rials from abroad, of 654,000 livres. They sold to the mer-
chants of Marseilles, for exporting into Turkey, to the
amount of 1 1,136,000 : Leaving a balance for the workman-
ship, and the price of the raw materials of the growth of
the kingdom, of 10,482,000 livres, or 458,587/. 19,v. sterling.
In 1784, France exported cloth to the value of 15,530,900
livres; stuff's to the value of 7,600,000; and plush, &:c. to
the value of 4,425, 100. The exportation ot cloth, in the
year 1787, had fallen to 14,242,400 livres; and that of stuffs,
in the same year, to 5,615,800 livres. The produce ol
the whole woollen manufacture was rated, in 1789, at
140,000,000 of livres annually.

2. The next manufacture in importance and extent is
the silk manufacture ; but of the state of this, when it was
most flourishing, we cannot collect such details as we have
given relative to the woollen manufacture ; because, under
the old government, the part of the kingdom, where there
was any woollen manufacture, was cantoned into several de-
partments, 01- districts, called generalities, with an inspec-
tor to each, and a superintendant over the whole ; and thus
a particular account of this manufacture might be obtained.
We shall, therefore, be obliged to specify the principal
places where the silk manufacture is carried on, and after-
wards to give such estimates of its value before the Revo-
lution as we can collect. The quality of French silk, and
particularly that of Languedoc, is very good. It is made
inlo woof, and even very beautiful organzine. Since the
establishment of the silk mills at Vancauson, the French
organzine has obtained a superioiity over that of foreign
countries. The woof made in Languedoc and at Alais is
preferred. The annual export of raw silk from the latter,
in the most flourishing slate of its trade, was 1,209,000 lbs.

The most considerable manufactures of silk art those
established at Toui's, Lyons, Nismes, Avignon, Marseilles,
and Paris. The silks of Tours and I^yons are esteemed of
the best quality: Those manufactured at Nismes are far
inferior. Florentine taffetas, English taffetas, and damask,
are manufactured at Avignon. There are also silk manu-
factures at Rouen, Tlioulouse, Auch, Narbonne, Amiens,
and several other places. The best gold and silver laces
nre made at Paris and Lyons ; and some of inferior qualities
at Moiitmorency, Sarcellcs, Estrepagny, Ixc. Ribbons are
chiefly made in Paris and Lyons : There are also large
quantities manufactured at St Etienne and St Chauraont.
Silk stockings, gloves, and mittens, are manufactured at
Paris, Lyons, Nismes, INIontpellier, Dourdans, Sec.

During the most flourishing period of the silk manu-
facture of Lyons, it is computed that 18,000 looms were
constantly and regularly at work, of which about 12,000
were employed in the manufacture of figured silks. The
state of the manufacture in 1786 was as follows : The raw
silks used were of diff'erent kinds, inde;fendent of the silks
of the growth of the kingdom. They imported at Lyons,
chiefly by the way of Geneva, raw silks from Piedmont to
the amount of 668,850 livres; from Naples, to the amount
of 263,400; and they employed native silks to the amount
or447,300: making the total value of the raw silks 1,399,550
livres. The fourth part of this anioiuit was sent to dif-
ferent parts of the kingdom to be manuf;;ctured ; the three
other parts were employed at Lyons, — which gives an
amount of 1,019,661 livres. Upon this computation it re-
sults, that they manufactured yearly in that city 349.887
pieces of stuff' of all kinds. It was computed, that each
piece brought a benefit to the manufacture of 36 livres,
or 12 livres for each pound of silk ; which gives 1^9|i5,93:i
livres. In the year 1787, the manufactures of L)|i|s em-

430

FRANCE.

ployed 15,000 looms : in 1788, 14,777 ; and the number of
workmen was 58,500.

In the most flourishing stale of the silk manufacture, it
was computed that nearly half tlie looms of the kins;<Iom
were employed at Lyons. There were besides at Nismes
about 3000 ; at Tours from 1200 to 1500 ; and about 2000
at Paris. There were besides about 20,000 used for the
making of silk stockings, and 10,000 for thai of libbons,
galloon, and lace. In 1775, an ins|)ector of tlie manufac-
tures of Languedoc estimated the quantity of native silk in
the whole kingdom at 30,000,000 of quintals, and tiie value
of it at 79,000,000 livres Tournois. Some years afterwards,
however, a much lower estimate and valuation was given,
by which it appears that the native silk was worth 5 6,000,000
livres Tournois ; 27,000,000 worth were imported. The
whole value of the silk manufacture, including all descrip-
tions, was 125,000,000 ; the raw material of which being
of the value of 83,000,000, there remained for wages and
profit 42,000,000. The amount of the various kinds of
silk articles annually sent out of France were estimated as
follows : Silken stuffs, taffetas, satlins, &c. 14,884, 100 livres ;
ditto, mixed, 649,600 ; silken gauzes, 5,452,000 ; handker-
chiefs, 1 18,000 ; ribbons, 1,231,900 ; galloon 2,589,200 ; va-
rious other articles, 445,300 ; making a total of 25,370,100
livres.

3. Linen is manufactured in most of the provinces, but
principally in Brittany, Normandy, Picardy, Hainault, Cam-
bresis, Flanders, Maine, Dauphiny, Auvcrgne, Beaujolais,
Champagne, Gascony, and Anjou. Brittany and some parts
of Normandy are most celebrated for this manufacture.
The principal articles of linen cloth made i^i Normandy
are those called low cloths, made in the vicinity of Fe-
campe, in the department of the Lower Seine ; hemp-tow-
cloths, made in the valley of Longueville, in the adjacent
villages, and near Rouen ; cloths used in the formation of
oil-cloths and umbrellas are made at Ourville ; a particular
sort of linen, formerly sent to the Brazils, at St George's ;
toiles a vesle in the vicinity of Bacqueville ; strong flaxen
cloths at Dieppe, Havre, Fccampe, kc. ; tickings at St Loo,
Evreux, and other parts in Lower Normandy ; coverings
for mattresses at St Vallery, St Laurent, kc. ; linen clotli
with blue and white grounds, for sailors' shirts, at St
Laurent, Toqueville, &c. : damasked linen at Rouen, St
Vallery, and Bolbec ; in the article of printed linens only,
the sale at Rouen, when the manufacture flourished, was
computed at from 20,000/. to 25,000/. sterling per week.
The quantity sold in the hall annually, averaged about
35,000,000 millions of livres. The principal linen manu-
factures of Brittany are sail-cloth and canvass at Rennes,
Angers, Agen, (also at Marseilles and Mont de Marsan,)
and what are called Crez and Bretagnes. In the middle
of last century, 6000 bales of Crez and Brelagnes, were
annually exported from Morlaix alone ; 20 years afterwards
the exportation fell to about 4500 bales ; and at the com-
mencement of th& Revolution it fell below 4000. The
annual value of these cloths made in Brittany, in the
flourishing state of the manufacture, was about 1 ,200,000
livres. In several of the villages of this piovince, parti-
cularly at Vitry, the women and children used to be much
employed in knitting thread stockings and gloves, which
were sent to Spain, and even to the East Indies. Tliey
sold about 20,000 livres worth of them every year. Be-
fore the Revolution, France exported linen cloth to the
amount of from 12 0w0.000 to 13,000,000 of livres; and
lawn and cambric, maiiulacturccl piincipuUy in the French
Netherlands, to the amount of 6 000,000.

4. Though the cotton manuidclure is of comparatively
late establishment, yet it had begun to flourish considera-
bly beferc the Revolution. The principal seat of it was

then, and indeed still is, Rouen and its vicinKy, which has
not inaptly been called the Manchester of France. Here
cottons, made from materials called euCacolin, brought to
France by way of Holland; cotton handkercliiefs ; a sort
of coarse cotton cloth, called siamoUe ; besides fabrics of
mixed cotton and thread, were manufactured. There were
also small manufactures of cotton goods in some other parls
of France, at the period of the Revolution, particularly in
Beaujolais, Languedoc, and Flanders ; but v/e are not ac-
(luainted with any data on which to eslimale the value of
this manufacture. The quilts of Marseilles, which are
still as much in use as ever in that part of France, where
a iilanket is a rare thing ; the muslins of Rouen, Nismes,
Bezieres, and Rheims ; and the dimities and fuslians of
Alen^on, Lyons, Troyes, and Toulouse, may be classed
under this head.

5. As the laces manufactured in France are made both
of silk and thread, we shall consider them separately. Be-
fore the Revolution, they were a flourishing and important
branch of trade. They are manufactured at Lisle, Va-
lenciennes, Dieppe, Puy, Paris, Caen, Arras, Alencon, and
Argentan, in the greatest quantity, and of the best quality.
At Paris are made black and white laces of thread ; and
also at Valenciennes, Dieppe, and Puy. At Arras, mini.
onetCe and entoilage laces, great quantities of which used
to be brought to England. The point lace of Alencon has
long enjoyed a great reputation through France, England,
Germany, Sec. The point lace of Argentan, called /io/w;
d' Argentan, is also celebrated.

6. in the beginning of the last century, there were
seven provinces in France where the paper manufacture
was chiefly carried on : Champagne, Normandy, Brittany,
Angoumois, Perigord, Limosin, and Auvergne. At that
period, England and other countries imported a great deal
of paper from France ; towards the middle of that century,
however, the paper trade of France declined, in conse-
quence of these countries making paper nearly sufficient
for their own consumption. Previously to the Revolution,
the chief paper manufactures of France were at Annonay,
in the department of the Ardechc, very fine paper is manu-
factured here ; at Montargis, in the department of the
Loirel ; at Essone, Courtalin ; Rr.mbervillier, in the depart-
ment of the Vosges ; Bcscangon, Ornant, Villafaut, Arbois,
Arches, Archettes, and St Bresson. The total number of
manufactories before the Revolution was about 200. Three
classes of white paper for wrilip.g and printing are made ;
each class is dirvided into eight or ten different sorts : dif-
ferent coloured papers and pasteboards are also made; and
paper hangings, executed witli considerable taste, at Paris.
Before the Revolution, the paper manufactured in France
amounted to the annual value of 8,000^000 livi es ; I 830.000
of which were exported to foreign countries, and 350,000
livres to the colonies.

7. The best hides are those of the oxen of Auvergne,
Limosin, and Poitou. Leather is prepared at B.iyonne,
Lectoure in the department of Gcrs, and St Germaine.
The best tan-yards are at Paris, Dijon, Troyes, Couloin-
mier, Rheims, Meaieres, Laon, Soissons, Rouen, Caen,
Bayeux, Verneuil, Perche, Cliartres, Orleans, Tours, and
Beauvais : leather for harness is manufactured at Nemours,,
and Louviers. Goat skins are ])rcparcd at Paris, under the
name oi viarocjuins. Chamois leather is made, or iiniiated,
al Niort, Strasburg, Grenoble, Annonay, Sec. Bufl'alo hides
are also manufactured in France ; and parchment in Poitou,
Languedoc, Flanders, Alsace, and at Paris. Tiie parch-
ment made in France is esteemed the best in Europe,
and in time of peace is frequently imported into tiiis couii-
iry.

S. Hats are chiefly manufactured at Lyons, Marseilles,

FIIANCE.

431

Eoaen, and 't'aris. Before the Revolution, considerable
qiiaiitities were exported to the French colonies, and also
to Spain and Spanish America, by tlie way of Cadiz; at
that time there were about 70 hat manufactories in the'
kingdom.

9. Nails are made in almost every province in France ;
but the most considerable forges are in Norinaudy, Cliam-
pagne, and Limosin : at Limoges, great quantities of nails,
particularly for horse shoes, were made, and sent to Paris,
previously to the Revolution. Pins and needles are made
at Paris, Rouen, Bourdeaux, Limoges, Evreux,and Aigle.
Cutlery at Montargis, Chaleaurault near Poitiers, where
it is made with scarcely any division of labour, being in
the hands of distinct and unconnected workmen, who go
througli every branch on their own account, and without
assistance, except from their families ; at Cosne, Moiilins,
&c. Steel is chiefly manufactured at Amboise, where it
was established by llie Duke de Choiseul ; at St Etienne,
Colmar, and Grenoble. Works in bronze and or-moulu
are carried to great perfection in Paris. Clocks and wat-
ches are made in ditterent parts of France, particularly at
Paris, Cluse, and Carouges ; the coarse movements are
made at Dieppe and its vicinity. The number of watches
sold annually in France, before the Revolution, was sup-
posed to be 200,000. At Paris and Lyons, aPthe same
period, 70,000 workmen were employed in the manufac-
ture of jewellery : in the capital, every article of this kind,
as well as all kinds of expensive and tasteful toys, are car-
ried to great perfection. A few years before the Revo-
lution, the art of casting cannon solid, and then boring
them, was introduced by W. Wilkinson, who established
a manufactory for that purpose, in an island in the Loire
below Nantes.

10. China is principally manufactured at Sevres, where
it has long been carried to a high degree of perfection.
Several manufactures of earthen ware, chiefly o! the coarse
kind, are carried on at Aubagne and other places ; imita-
tions of our Stafibrdshire ware are made at Chantilly and
Paris ; they are called tcrre dc fiifie ; stone-ware is made at
Moulins, and delft at Marseilles.

1 1. The glass manufacture of St Gobins still retains
its pre-eminence for luige and beautiful mirrors; there are

also glass manufactures at Moulins ; at Baccarat in Lor-
raine, where three kinds were made, plate-glass, common
glass for windows, and table-glass, the wood used in this
manufacture amounted to between 8000 and 10,000 cords ;
it was brought down tlie Mcurthc, and in other parts of
the kingdom. A considerable trade in curious works of
enamel was carried on at Nevers before the Revolution.

12. Under tiiis head we shall notice all the principal
remaining manufactures of I'rance, which flourished pre-
viously to the Revolution. Soap of the first quality is
made at Marseilles, where, and at l-'aris, great quantities
of Wftsh balls were also made: inferior soap was manu-
factured at Toulon, Bourdeaux, Rouen, Lisle, Abbeville,
Amiens, and St Quintin. The amount of this manufac-
ture was 60 millions, only two of which were exported.
The principal manufacture of starch is at Paiis. The
manufacture of tobacco and snuff amounted to 22,000 cwt.
of the former, and 2<J0O cwt. of the latter. Verdegris,
chiefly at Montpctlier ; alum and Epsom salt in the neigh-
bourhood of Mezieres ; Glauber salts, which are esteem-
ed of excellent quality, in the provinces bordering on the
Mediterranean. The refining of sugar was principally
carried on at Marseilles and Nantes. Cables and ropes at
Brest, Rochefort, Toulon, Abbeville, Dunkirk, and Havre
de Grace. Bleaching is carried on to a great extent in
Picardy, principally in the vicinity of St Quintin. Dyeing
of course is carried on at the seats of the principal silk,

woollen, linen, and cotton manufactures. The waters of
the Saone are excellent for scournig, containing, it is said,
a soapy quality ; those of the Rhone, from their purity,
are ejually adapted lor dyeing; the waters of the little
river Sornin arc also reckoned remarkably good for dye-
ing ; and it is geneiuUy supposed that the superior excel-
lence of the French cloths, with respect to colour, espe-
cially witli respect to black, results in a great measure
fiom the purity of the waters which arc used in dycmg.

111. A revolution, such as that which for upwards of
25 years has alllicted and depressed the political and moral
state of France, could not fail to press very severely on her
manufactures. Most of them have suffered in a very great
degree; others have passed through the trial not so much
hurt ; and some appear even to have been extended and
improved during tlie Revolution. Of course, those suf-
fered most which principally depended on foreign demand;
for the commerce of France being in fact annihilated, the
articles of home manufacture, which supplied that com-
merce, no longer being in equal demand, were no longer
made in equal quantities. Another cause of the decline
of the manufactures, especially during the last years of
Bonaparte's reign, must be sought for in the conscription,
which, in many instances, absolutely stript the manufac-
tures of nearly all their workmen. But though the gene-
ral fact is sufficiently well established, that the manufac-
tures of France are at present, almost universally, far in-
ferior to what they were previously to the Revolution ; yet
the precise degree of deterioration cannot be ascertained,
even with respect to the most important of them. We
shall therefore be under the necessity of confining our-
selves to a few brief and unconnected notices on this
point.

The silk manufacture seems to have suffered the most.
The number of looms employed at Lyons in 1788, has been
already stated at 14,777. In 1 SOI, according to Peuchet,
author of the Statistitjue de la France, there were but 7000
looms, and many of them were unemployed. The expos©
of the French government rates them at nearly the same
number in 1814. The woollen manufactures of Carcas-
sone were languishing previously to the Revolution; and
that event has still further depressed them. Mr Birkbeck
visited the fine cloth manufacture of Louviers,in 1814. He
represents the establishment there for spinning woollen
yarn as being on a large scale; and mentions that their
cropping or shearing machines were performing their office
with great precision. The manufacturers, according to
him, are wide awake to mechanical improvements. Hence
it would appear, that whatever injury this important manu-
facture may have suffered from the Revolution, with re-
spect to the demand for its goods, it has been advancing in
improvements during that time. The cotton manufacture
undoubtedly has extended during the last 25 years; though,
by the immense drain on the population which Bonaparte's
wars with Russia, and from that period till the peace of Pa-
ris, occasioned, it has latterly been in a declining state.
Probably the scarcity and the enormous price of the raw
material also contributed to their depression. Mr Birk-
beck visited a cotton mill at Deville, near Rouen, which
employs 600 people ; and he describes the machinery as
good. Indeed, it is well known, that all the inventions and
improvements in the cotton machinery with which we are
acquainted, are used in the French manufactories at Rouen.
Cotton manufactures have lately also been established at
Chantilly, in French Flanders, &c.; and it is worthy of re-
mark, that the same complaint is made with respect to the
influence of this manufacture on the morals of the work peo-
ple, as has long been made in this country. The linen
manufacture of Brittany, and the manufacture of snuff and

432

FRANCE.

tobacco which Is carried on there, especially at Morlaix,
Jiave su (Tercel greatly during the Revolulion. The Gobe-
lin manufacture began to decline before that event; tapes-
try was not so mucli in fashion ; and that branch of it which
■was confined to the dyeing of scarlet cloth, is now almost
entirely at an end, in consequence of clolhs of that colour
being very little worn in France, and the Swiss regiments,
the oITicers of which formerly consumed vast rjuantitics of
cloth dyed of the Gobeline scarlet, being no longer employ-
ed. We shall conclude this Chapter with a brief enume-
ration of those manufactures which at present are the most
important in France. Mineral acids at Paris, Montpellier,
and Rouen. Alum at Paris and Montpellier. Barucans,
for lining pelisses, at Lisle, Amiens, and Valenciennes.
Dimities, [basins,) at Troyes, Lyons, Toulouse, Chaillot,
and Alen9on. Lawn and cambrics at St Quintin, from
which place formerly there were exported to Russia annu-
ally a million pieces, and Cambray. Prussian blue at Pa-
ris. Silk hosiery at Paris, Lyons, Nismes, Montpellier,
Ganges, and Douidan ; worsted hosiery in the departments
of the Aisne, and of tlic Somme, and particularly at San-
terre. Cotton hosiery at Rouen, Troyes, Arcis-sur-Aube,
and Sens. And in the departments of the North, and of
the Maine and Loire, thread stockings are manufactured.
Sweetmeats at Paris, Rouen, Tours, Orleans, Dijon, Sedan,
Bourdeaux, &c. Cotton velvet at Amiens. Muslin, and
other cotton goods, at Rouen. Cutlery at Paris, Moulins,
Langres, Chatelleraut, Thiers, Lisle, Sec. Crapes at Lyons
and Avignon. Gold and silver lace at Paris and Lyons.
Silk lace at Fontenai, Purseaux, Louvrc-en Parisis, Saint
Denis, Montmorency, Gisors, &c. Lace made of llax, at
Lisle, Valenciennes, Charlevillc, Sedan, Besan^on, Dieppe,
Havre, Caen, Puy, Arras, &c. At Dieppe, about 4000
women, chiefly wives and daughters of the seamen and
fishermen, are employed in this manufacture ; and at Puy
about 6000. Cloth at Abbeville, Elbeuf, Louviers, and in
Languedoc. Brandy at Bourdeaux, Rochelle, Cognac, the
department of the Charente, Isle of Rhe, Orleans, Blois,
Poitiers, Angers, Tours, Nantes, &c. Imitations of Hol-
lands gin at Calais and Boulogne. Artificial flowers at
Paris and Lyons. Gloves at Paris, Vendome, Grenoble,
Avignon, Blois, Montpellier, Grasse, &c. Olive oil in the
departments of the mouths of the Rhone, of the Gard, Var,
kc. Serges at Aumale, Seignelay, Gournay, Auxcrre,
Sedan, Abbeville, Beauvais, Sec. Liqueurs at Montpellier
and Rouen. Writing and printing paper at Angoulemc,
Montargis, Annonay, £cc. Stained paper at Paris and Ly-
ons. Perfumeries at Montpellier, Grasse, Lyons, and Pa-
ris. Porcelain at Sevres and Paris. Ribbons adorned
with gold and silver at Paris and Lyons. Other ribbons at
Paris, Lyons, Tours, St Etienne, St Chaumont. Ferret-
ribbons at Amiens and other places in Picardy. Ribbons
made of flax at Ambert. Silks at Nismes, Lyons, Tours,
&c. Silk and cotton stuffs at Rouen. Taffetas at Lyons,
Nismes, Avignon, kc. Carpets at La Savonnerie, Aubus-
son, Beauvais, Rouen, Arras, Felleton, kc. Linen cloth
at Rouen, and other parts of Normandy, Brittany, Courtray,
Arras, Beauvais, Compeigne, St Quintin, Noyon, Peronne,
Sec. Velvets at Lyons. Verdegris at Montpellier. Vin-
egar at Orleans, Blois, Angers, Nantes and Paris. Glass
at St Gobins.

CHAP. VL

Comtnerce — Shi/t/ung — Coasting and Inland Trade — FishC'
lies — 7'olal Produce of all kinds of Industry.

As the commerce of France has been nearly annihilated
by the Revolution, we shall give a statement of it at the

commencement of that event; and, in order that some es-
timate may be formed of its previous progress, we shall
prefix a statement of it as it existed at the end of the reign
of Louis XIV.

L The importations from Spain into France, at the end of
the reign of Louis XIV. amounted to the valueof 17,600,000
livres. Of this value, a great part consisted in specie.
There were three methods, principally, by which the
French, at this period, oI>tained part of the specie or pre-
cious metals, which the Spaniards brought from their South
American possessions. In the first place, French mer-
chandize was carried to Cadiz, and exported thence in the
galleons: in the second place, the productions and manu-
factures of France found a ready and extensive sale in
Spain; and, lastly, the iidiabitants of Auvergne, Limosin,
and Gascony, annually went into Spain, where they assisted
in the harvests, or in other occupations, and returned, when
they had obtained a competency, into their own country.
At the period of the Revolution, the imports from Spain in-
to France amounted to the sum of 33,300,000 livres in mer-
chandize alone, without counting piastres. Sec. to the
amount of 62,500,000 livres. Tlie imports from Spain, at
this period, consisted principally of anchovies, olive oil,
cocoa, almonds, lemons, oranges, raisins, brandies, luscious
wines, chincona, safl^ron, jalap, liquorice, dyewoods, inlaid
work, ashes, iron, copper, wool, silk, leather, hides, skins,
indigo, cochineal, alum, vermilion, beasts of burden, princi-
pally mules, silk handkerchiefs, toys, jewellery, household
goods, and clothing for the marines. This value of
33,300,000 livres may generally be arranged into the fol-
lowing classes: 1. Raw materials, principally wool, ashes,
and beasts of burden, to the value of 20,000,000; 2. Eata-
bles, as well animal as vegetable, to the value of,7,000,000 ;
3. Wines and liquors, to the value of 4,000,000; and, 4.
upwards of 2,000,000 in manufactured articles.

The exportations from France into Spain, at the end of
the reign of Louis XIV. amounted to the sum of 20,000,000 ;
at the period of the Revolution, they had increased to the
sum of 44,400.000 livres. In this latter period, the exports
chiefly consisted of the following articles: grain, vegeta-
bles, flour, cod, salted fish of other kinds, provisions of va-
rious descriptions, brandies, wines, sheep, mules, pigs;
cinnamon, ])epper, sugars of all sorts ; pitch, tar, wool, cot-
ton, silk stockings, hats, laces, woollen cloths, stuffs, hand-
kerchiefs, gauzes, ribbons, linen, leather and skins, books,
stationery, mercery, ironmongery, household goods, wooden
works and metals. The manufactured articles amounted
to the value of 26,500,000 livres; the raw materials, and
beasts of burden, about 5,200,000 livres; the eatables about
11,000,000; and the wines and liquors about 1,500,000
livres.

II. The importations into France from Portugal, at the
end of the reign of Louis XIV. amounted to the trifling
sum of 340,000 livres, and consisted chiefly of hides in the
hair, Brazil tobacco, olive oil, and dried fruits. At the pe-
riod of the Revolution, the value of the imports had increas-
ed to the sum of 10,400,000 livres. They consisted chiefly
of olive oil, cocoa, lemons, oranges, sweet wines, cinnamon,
pepper, cloves, cotton wool, ivory, undressed goat skins,
indigo, dyewoods, inlaid work of the East and West Indies,
India cotton, and Brazil tobacco. The exportations from
France into Portugal, at the end of the reign of Louis XIV^
amounted to the sum of 740,000 livres, and consisted of
woollen goods, linen goods, earthen ware, paper, &c. At
the period of the Revolution, the exportations amounted to
the sum of about 4,000,000, and consisted chiefly of grain,
vegetables, hams, cotton, woollen stuffs and stockings, la-
ces, ribbons, paper, skins, hides, mercery, glass, books. Sec.
The manufactured articles am.ounted to about 2,300,000

FRANCE.

433

livres ; tlie raw pi-oilucc and provisions to about 1,C00,000
livits.

III. The imporlations into France from Italy, Piedmont,
S'avoy, and Switzerland, at the end of the reign ot" Louis
XIV'. amounted to the sum of 10,700,000: at the period of
tlie Revolution, they had increased to 82,000,000, and con-
sisted chiefly of corn, rice, vef^etables. Hour, olive oil, le-
mons, oranges, raisins, figs, cheese, lemon juice, liqueurs,
manna, opium, senna, fresli fish, silk, goals and camels
hair, hares wool, wood lor fuel, ashes, sulphur, alum, galls,
shumac, tartar, safl'ron, indigo, cochineal, lac, silken stufi's,
gauzes, perfumery, essences, mercery, hardware, ribbons,
while and coloured cottons, muslins, linen, and sackcloth.
These importations may be divided into three classes; 1st,
Manufactured articles to the amount of 16,300,000 livres ;
principally the silk ribbons of Padua, the crapes of Bolog-
na, the stuffs and silk velvets of Genoa and Florence, and
more especially the while and coloured cottons of Sv.'itzer-
land : 2d, Raw materials to the amount of 37,400,000, of
which upwards of two thirds was of raw silk: 3d, Eatables
to ihe amount of 28,300,000, of which 1 1,500,000 livres was
for olive oil employed in the manufacture of tine soap at
IVIarseilles and otlier places.

The exportations from France to these countries, at the
end of the reign of Louis XIV. amounted to the sum of
23,400,000 livres. Ai tjie period of the Revolution, they
had increased to 78,300,000 ; and consisted principally of
rye, cod, oil, wines, brandies, oxen, sheep, pigs, goats, cof-
fee, and other Weal India produce, copper, lead, cotton raw
and spun, dye woods, inlaid wood, sakpeti'e, linseed, gum,
re<J lead, copperas, stockings, hats, woollen cloth, laces, gau-
zes, handkerchiefs, ribbons, linen clolii, leather, skins, mer-
ceiy, millinery, hardware, toys, jewellery, soap, glass.
Tiiey may be divided into five classes: 1st, iVIanulactured
articles to tlie amount of 30,800,000 livres ; 2', Raw mate-
I'ials, or such as had undei-gone only the first preparation,
as cotton thread, principally for Switzerland, to the value
of 1 1,800,000 livres; 3d, Eatables to the value of 10,700,000
livres; 4th, Wines and liquois 5,000,000 ; and 5th, Coloni-
al produce 20,000,000.

IV. In 1585, the actual value of tlic importatio)is from
England into France, amounted to 18,000,000 of livres:
viz. 8,400,000 of manufactures; 6,300,000 raw materials;
and 3,200,000 in other articles. At the end of the reign of
Louis XIV. the importations from England into France,
amounted to the sum of 13,876,000 livres: viz. 6,000,000
in woollen and cotton goods, prepared skins, earthern ware,
and other manufactures; 4,100,000 in metals, coal and hor-
ses; 3,700,000 in eatables, kc. At the period of the Re-
\olulion, they amounted to about 58.500,000 livres; and
consisted principally of butter, salted meat and fish, colo-
nial produce, corn, flour, rice, coal, copper, iron, lead, pew-
ter^ woollen goods, cotton goods, hardv/are, earthen ware,
leather, ivory, whalebone, alum, copperas, white lead, hor-
ses, leaf tobacco, saddles, glass. Sec. They may be arrang-
ed under three classes: Isl, Manufactured articles to the
amount of 33,100,000 livres; 2d, Raw materials, pailicular-
ly the metals, an<l coal, 1 5;400,00') livres ; 3d, Eatables, &c.

In 1 G8fi, ilie exportalions of France into England amount-
ed to 23,300,000 livi-cs: viz. 1st, Manufactures to the value
of 11.700,000; 2d, Raw materials about 2,000,000; and 3d,
Ivatables, wines, rupiors. Sec. 9,600,000. At the end of the
reign of Louis XIV. the exportalions had greatly declined,
not amounting to more than 18,000,000: viz. 12,000 000 of
silk goods, cambrics, laces, he; 1,000,000 in raw materi-
als, principally leather, cochineal, and indigo; and 5,800,000
in eatables, wines, liquors, kc. The exportalions fr<^
l-'rante into Great Briuiin and Ireland at the period of the
Revolution, amounted to about 38,000,000 ; consisUug prin-

\'<>L. IX. P.VKT II.

cipally of plums, salt, wines, brandies, treacle, cotton, indi-
go, Spanish wool, laces, cambrics, lawns, glass, perfu7nery,
gloves, millinci-y, vinegar, oils, cork, toys, jewellery, &c.
They may be divided into four classes: 1st, iManui'aclured
articles to the value of 7,300,000 livres; 2d, Raw materials
11,100,000 livres, of which two-thirds consisted of colton
from the French West India islaiids; 3d, \Vincs, liquors,
Sec. 15,500,000; 4th, Eatables 5,500,000.

V. The importations from Holland into France, at the
end of the reign of Louis XIV. amounted to about 12 mil-
lions; viz. 2,500,000 manufactures, 4,700,000 raw mate-
rials, and 4,800,000 eatables, &c. At the period of the Re-
volution, they amounted to 33,100,000 livres; and consist-
ed of corn, salted provisions, cod, saimon, cheese, butter,
spices, Geneva, beer, wood, dye woods, ashes for manure,
copper, ivory, steel, brass wire, lead, tallow, flax, linseed
oil, skins, hogs bristles, madder, red and white lead, tobac-
co, linen cloth, paper, and hardware. They may be arrang-
ed as follows: 5,300,000 manufactured articles; 15,000,000
raw materials; 12,000,000 for provisions and liquors. The
exportalions of France into Holland, at the end of the reign
of Louis XIV. amounted to 30,700,000: viz. 2,300,000
manufactures; 6,000,000 raw materials; 22,300,000 in
wines, liquors, colonial produce, Sec. At the period of
the Revolution, the exportalions to France amounted to
about 46,000,000 ; consisting of colonial produce, corn,
honey, rice, wines, brandies, plums, juniper berrius, hops,
tar, wool cards, Spanish wool, tobacco, galls, ochre, woad,
tur|)entine, silk sluli's, gauzes, cambric, paper, soap, glass,
leather, gloves, millinery, jewellery, kc. It may be divi-
ded into five classes: 1st, 6,700,o00 manufactured articles;
2d, 7,100 000 raw materials; 3d, 3.200,000 wines, brandies,
kc ; 4tli, 23,000,000 colonial produce, particularly sugar
and coffee ; and 5lh, 5,600,000 eatables, kc.

^'I. At the end of the reign of Louis XI\'. the impoi'-
tations from Germany, the Austrian Netherlands, Poland,
and Prussia, into France, amounted to the sum of 9,000,000,
principally in three classes: 1st, 3,700,000 manufactures;
3,000,000 raw materials ; and 2,300.000 eatables, kc.
At the period of the Revolution, the importations from
these countries amounted to about 64,000,000 : viz. about
31,000,000 for manufactured articles, principally the stutt's
and laces of Flanders, and the tapes, linens, mercerv, and
hardware of Germany ; 19,000,000 for raw materials, prin-
cipally coal from Austrian Hainault, hemp and flax from
Flanders, bi'ass ware and Potash from Gi;rmany, Poland,
and Prussia; 13,700,000, piincipally for the horses and
cattle of Germany and Flanders. The exportalions from
France to these countiies at the end of the reign of Louis
XIV. amounted to the sum of 14,100,000, in three classes ;
1st, 5,100,000 of manufactures; 2d, 2,000,000 of raw mate-
rials; 37,0OO,C)0O of eatables, wines, liquors, kc. At the
period of the Revolution, the exporlatioriS amounted to the
sum of 95,600,000 livi-es, and may be divided into five
classes: viz. 1st, 39,100,000 livres for manufactures of va-
rious sorts, especially silk siu9's, embroidered with gold
and silver, for the different princes in Germany, and the
rich nobility of Poland, lawn and woollen stuHs for the
hereditary possessions of the bouse of Austria in Germany
and Flanders ; 2d, 12,900,000 livres in raw materials, prin-
cipally wool and coal, a re-exportation for Austrian Flan-
ders and Germany ; 3d, Upwards of 10,000,000 in wineS,
brandies, and vinegar, for Germany, Poland, and the Prus-
sian ports of the Baltic; 4tli, 22,000,000 of colonial pro-
duce, particularly sugar and coffee, for the states of Aus-
tria and (icrmany, and the Prussian ports in the Baltic ;
5U1, 1 1,',/J aOOO in vegetables and animals for Flanders and
Gi.rnia;iy.

Vil. At the end cf the i eign of Louis XIV. the impor-
3 1

434

lllANCE.

tations into France from Hamburgh, Bremen, Lubec, Dant-
zic, Denmark, Sweden and Russia, amounted only to
300,000 livrcs, and consisted principally ot" timber, hemp,
iron, and other metals. At the period ot" the Revolution,
these importations amounted to 31,600,000 livres, and may
be divided into three classes: viz. 1st, About 5,000,000 of
tnainifactured articles, principally those manufactured of
ilax and hemp, and India muslins, brought by the Danes from
their possessions in tlie East Indies ; 2d, 24,000,000 of raw
materials, particularly copper and lead, through the Hanse
towns, timber from Russia and Denmark, iron, pitch, and
tar from Sweden, and hemp and tallow from Russia ; od,
1,800,000 livres, principally for dried and salted fish from
Denmark and Sweden. The exportations from France to
these places at the end of the reign of Louis XIV. amount-
ed to the sum of 6,800,000: viz. about 856,000 in woollen
and linen goods ; about 480,000 in copper, cork, &c. ; and
about 5,400,000 livres in eatables, wines, liquors, Sec. At
the period of the Revolution, the exportations from France
to all these places, amounted nearly to the value of
80,000,000, and may be arranged in five classes: viz. 1st,
3,600,000 livres in merchandize and manufactures, chielly
for the Russian market and the Hanse Towns, and a small
quantity for Sweden and Denmark; 2d, About 7,100,000
ill raw materials, particularly indigo, and other drugs for
dyeing, and cotton, for the Hanse towns, Sweden, and
Denmark; 3d, About 12,000,000 in wines, brandies, Sec;
about one-half of this went to the Hanse towns, about a
fourth each to Denmark and Russia, and only about one-
eighth to Sweden; 4th, About 2,000,000 in vegetables,
minerals, and animals; and 5tli, About 55,000,000 in sugar
and coffee from the French West India islands ; of which
47,000,000 was sent to the Hanseatic towns, three-fourths
for Hamburgh, and the remainder in nearly equal propor-
tions to Sweden, Denmark, and Russia.

VIII. The commerce between the United States of
America, and France, owes its existence entirely to the
rupture between them and Great Britain, which termina-
ted in their independence. During the three first years
after the treaty of amity and commerce between the Uni-
ted States and France, concluded in January 1 778, the im-
portation from them into France, averaged annually the
sum of 2,460,000 livres: viz. 136,000 in rice and dried
cod ; 357,000 in wood, indigo, skins, and other raw mate-
rials; and 1,900,000 in leaf tobacco. The exportations
from France at this period, amounted to 3,200,000: viz.
191,000 in spiccries ; 79,000 in wines and li(]Uors ; 33,000
in raw materials ; and 2,900,000 in manufactured goods,
particularly woollen cloths, linen, silk, cotton velvet, ho-
siery, hats, mercery, earthern ware. East India goods, cop-
per utensils, and warlike stores. The importations from
the United States to France, from 1781 to 1783 inclusive,
averaged 3,494,000 livrcs: viz. 69,000 in rice and salted-
cod; 192,000 in raw materials; and 3,233,000 in leaf to-
bacco. The exportations from France at the same period,
amounted to 1 1,500,000 livres, and may be arranged under
four classes: 1st, About 825,000 livres in provisions and
groceries; 2d, About 457,000 in whies, brandies, See; 3d,
About 378,000 in raw materials; 4th, About 9,800,000 in
manufactured articles, principally of the same description
as those exported during the former period. Taking the
average of the three years which preceded the French
Revolution, the importations from the United States into
France amounted annually to 9,600,000 livres, and may be
arranged under four heads: viz. 1st, About 600,000 in rice,
and other articles of food ; 2d, About 900,000 in raw mate-
rials; 3d, About 700,000 in fish ; and 4th, About 7,300,000
in leaf tobacco. The principal articles were, besides rice,
tobacco, and fish, corn, maize, wood of every sort for ship-
building, undressed skins, pitch, tar, potash, flax seed, &c.

The exportations from France to the United States at

this period, only reached about 1,800,000 livres, of which
1,200,000 were in wines, brandies, he. and the remainder
in manufactures.

IX. At the end of the reign of Louis XIV. the impor-
tations fiom the Levant and the coast of Barbary to France,
amounted lo 3,400,000. At the period of the Revolution,
the importations amounted to 37,700,000, in three classes:
1st, About 1,500,000 in the stuft's of the Levant; 2d,
About 29,000,000 of raw materials, principally cgtton,
silk, wool, goat's skins, leather, &c. 3d, About 7,000,000
in wheat, barley, pulse, olive oil, and Turkey coffee. 'J'he
exportations from France for the Levant and the states of
Barbary, at the end of the reign of Louis XIV. were only
2,000,000. At the period of the Revolution, they had risen
to the sum of 25,600,000 livres. They may be arranged
under four heads: 1st, About 8,100,000 in West India cof-
fee, sugar, and liqueurs : 2d, About 3,200,000 in indigo,
and other dyeing stuffs; 3d, About 9,300,000 in woollen
cloths, hosiery, silk goods, and handkerchiefs ; 4th, About
5,000,000 in specie, as sequins, piastres, ix.c. Nearly the
whole of the commerce between France and the Levant
and Barbary Slates, was carried on at Marseilles. From
this port were sent to the ports of the Levant, the cloths of
Languedoc, chielly those manufaclui'ed at Carcassone, Cler-
mont, and Lodeve, dye-woods of various descriptions, su-
gars, coflce, indigo, cochineal, cinnamon, pepper and other
spices, lead, iron, pewter, tin, paper, liqueurs, syrups,
fruits, millinery, silken stuffs, lace, linen cloth, toys, &c. ;
and in return France received, by Marseilles, raw and
spun cotton, wool, gum, wax, silk, galls, madder, opium,
goat's and camel's hair, raw and dressed hides, tallow, car-
pets, coffee, incense, myrrh, rice, sal-ammoniac, tamarinds,
senna, ostrich feathers, grain, oil, &c. Before the Revolu-
tion the trade to the Levant employed 400 vessels of the
burden of about 47,000 tons, and the value of their cargoes
nearly 41,000,000 francs.

The importations of all the countries of Europe into
France, at the end of the reign of Louis XJV. amounted
to the sum of 7 1 ,000,000 ; and at the period of the Revo-
lution to 380,000,000, being an augmentation in the propor-
tion of nearly S-i. The exportations from France to all the
rest of Europe, at the end of the reign of Louis XIV.
amounted to the sum of 105,000,000, at the period of
the revolution 424,000,000, being an increase in the
proportion of 4 to 1 . The exportations at both periods
may be arranged under five classes. The first compre-
hends the productions of the soil of i-'rance. At the end
of the reign of Louis XIV. these amounted to 36,000,000 >
at the Revolution to 93,000,000. The second class com-
prises the articles of French industry, amounting at the first
period to 45,000,000 ; and at the Revolution to 133,000,000.
The third class comprises the produce of the French
West India islands re-exported from France, amounting
at the first period to 15,000,000; and at the Revolution
to 152,000,000. The fourth class comprises the re-expor-
tations of the produce brought by the F'rench from the
East Indies, amounting at the first period to 2,650,000 li-
vres ; and at the Revolution to 4,160,000. The last class
comprehends foreign meixhandise and inanufactures re-
exported from I'rance, amounting at the end of the reign
of Louis XIV. to 6,000,000; and at the Revolution to
40,000,030.

X. The commerce between France and India and China was
established in 1 694. At the end of the reign of Louis XIV.,
the French possessions in the East were few, and of little
m«ment ; consisting only of some country houses at Pondi-
cherry,Sui'at,and Mazulipatam; an establishment at Canton,
another at Mocha, and a third at Bander Abassi, in Persia ;
but there was so little trade, that, between 1699 and 1719,

FRANCE.

435

not more than one or two vessels were annually employed in
it; their cars^oes, however, must liavc been valuable, since,
at the end of the reign of Louis XIV., the importations from
the East Indies amounted to 6,368,000 livrcs, consistini<; prin-
cipally, 1st, of pepper and cofl'ee, to the value of 2,757,000;
2d, of muslin, 2,790,000 ; and lastly of gold in ingots,
400,000 livres. The exportations from France to Asia,
at the same period, amounted to 2,852,000 livres, of wiiich
there were 2,173,000 in piastres, 542,000 of wrought coral,
and 107,000 in metals, kc. At the peiiod of the Revolu-
tion, the cargoes brought from Asia into France were va-
lued at 34,700,000 livres, on the average of 1785, 1786, and
1737, consisting, 1st, of manufactured commodities, such
as plain and printed cottons, muslins, liandkeichiefs, nan-
keens, and silken stuffs, to the value of about 26,600,000
livres: 2d, of cinnamon, pepper, tea, and Mocha coffee, to
the value of 6,000,000 : 3d, of wood, raw silk, cotton, ivory,
Sec. to the value of 1,150,000 livres : 4tii, of porcelain, fans,
and shells, to the value of 493,000 livres : and, 5th, of drugs
and dye-woods, to the value of 367,000 livres. The expor-
tations from France to Asia, at tlie same period, amount-
ed to 17,400,000; and consisted, 1st, of 15,253,000 livres,
in piastres : 2d, of manufactured articles, to the value of
654,000 livres : 3d, of wines and liquors, to the value of
745,000 livres : 4th, of wood and metals, to the value of
700,000 ; and, lastly, of various other articles, to the value
of 72,000 livres.

XI. At the end of the reign of Louis XIV., the impor-
tations into France, from the western coasts of Africa,
amounted to about 500,000 livres, chiefly in gums, ele-
phant's teeth, hides, &c. ; the number of slaves annually
bought was about 2000. The merchandize exported from
France, at this period, to this part of Africa, amounted in
value to about 650,000 livres. At the period of the Revo-
lution, the exportations for the western coasts of Africa,
amounted to 18,000,000, of which nearly 10,000,000 consist-
ed of foreign commodities re-exported ; and about 8,000,000
of the produceor manufactures of France. The importations,
on an average of 1785, 1786, and 1787, from this part of Af-
rica, amounted to about 1 ,400,000 livres, in gums, elephant's
teeth, and hides, principally. At this period about 30,000
slaves were annually bought. No trade was carried on to
the isles of France and Bourbon, previously to the year
1735, when La Bourdonnaie was sent out as governor. At
the period of the Revolution, the exportations from France
to these islands amounted to 4,600,000 livres, cliiefly in
metals, wood, wines, brandy; and some manufactured
goods, cloths, and gilt toys. The returns amoinitcd to
2,700,000, principally in Bourbon coffee.

XII. The importations into France, from their West In-
dia and North American possessions, in the reign of Louis
XIV. amounted to 15,700,000 livres, viz. 11,000,000 in
sugar and chocolate; 4,081,000 in indigo; 775,000, in cot-
ton, hides, skins, Sec. ; and 200,000 in tobacco. The expor-
tations from France, at the same period, amounted to about
9,000,000; viz. 4,160,000 in manufactures; 1,900,000 in
provisions; 1,564,000 in wines, brandy. Sec,; and about the
same amount in timber for building, metals. Sec. At the
period of the Revolution, France received from her West
India and American possessions, about 185 millions; viz.
1st, 134,000,000 in sugar and coflfee alone: 2d, about
26,000,000 in cotton: 3d, about 11,600,000 in indigo, and
other drugs for dyeing: 4th, about 10,000,000 in cocoa,
chocolate, ginger, Sec. The exportations from France, at
this period, were about 77,900,000 livres, which may be
arranged in five classes; 1st 42,447,000 in manufactured
goods: 2d, about 19,611,000 in flour, pulse, salted provi-
sions, cheese, &c.: 3d, about 7,285,000 in wines and bran-
dy: 4th, about 6,513,000 in wood, metals, he: and, lastly
about 2,037,000 in articles of less importance.

It must be obvious, that perfect accuracy respecting the
value of the particidar or total exportations and importa-
tions cannot be obtained ; we need not, therefore, be sur-
prised to find tliem estimated differently by different au-
thors. According to some, the exportation in 1787 amount-
ed in all to 542,604,000 livres; of which, 311,472,000
were the raw produce of the soil, mines, and fisheries; and
231,132,000 the produce of French manufactures. Ar-
nould, author of the treatise /><; /a Balance du Commerce
de la France., is of opinion, that, about the same period, the
value of the exports of the produce and manufactures of
France was 364,000,000, which he supposes to be thus di-
vided among the different parts of the kingdom. The
maritime districts partook to the amount of 223,000,000 ;
the frontier districts to the amount of 77,000,000 ; the in-
terior districts only to the amount of 11,000,(^00; the cidc-
vant generality of Paris, to the amount of 18,000,000, ; and
the district round Lyons, comprehending the department
of the Rhone and the Loire, to the amount of twenty-nine
millions.

The imports of France, upon an average of the years
1785, 1786, 1787, are calculated at 611,008,200 livres. In
1792, the average imports amounted to no more than
319,000,000, according to the report of Roland to the Con-
vention. By an official report laid before the Consuls, 22d
September 1800, it appears, that the value of the imports
was 325,1 16,400 livres : of which 114,190,100 was in pro-
visions, liquors. Sec. ; 133,591,500 in raw materials; upwards
of 35,000,000 of this behig cotton wool, and 39,265,500 was
in foreign manufactures. The exports that year amount-
ed to 271,575,600, of which 87,562,500 consisted of pro-
visions, wines, liquors. Sec ; 33,693,000 of raw materials;
and 140,85 4,200 of manufactured goods; of these last, the
silk amounted to 41,222,000, the linen and hempen cloth
to 34,866,000, the woollen drapery to 23,146,000, and the
cotton stuff's to 12,335,000. In the same year, the imports
from Spain were valued at 64,446,500; the exports to Spain
at 62,441,400: The imports from the Batavian republic at
80,788,300 ; the exports at 37,751,600: The imports from
the Ligurian republic were 26,561,600; the exports
23,010,700: The imports from the Helvetian republic
17,008,600 ; the exports 38,809,100. Making the total im-
ports from friendly and allied powers 188,805,000; and the
total exporls to them 162,012,800. The total imports from
neutral powers were 84,783,300 ; of which, upwards of
82,000,000 were from Denmark, Sweden, Prussia, and the
Hanse towns; and only about 2,000,000 from the United
States. The exports to the saine powers were 33,527,400 ;
of which, only 557,700 were to the United States.

There are no data on which an estimate of the number
or tonnage of the French shipping, at the end of the reign
of Louis XIV. can be formed ; but in 1669, Colbert reckon-
ed that France employed only 600 in foreign commerce; and
it is supposed, that at the beginning of the 18th century
this number had not increased to much above 800 vessels,
of from 100 to 250 tons burden. If this latter supposition
be correct, they must have declined in the middle of this
century; for the anonymous author of a pamphlet, entitled
the Present State of the Reveiiue and Forces of France and
Sjiain^ conijiared with those of Great Britain, 1740, asserts,
that in France there were not then more than 600 sail of
merchant ships at the most, of all sizes; and that, reckoning-
25 sailors to each, one with another, all the seamen of
I'rance did not exceed 30,000, including 11,000 seamen
classed by the king, who had leave to serve aboard the mer-
chant ships till they were wanted for the king's service.
At the period of the Revolution, the number of ships em-
ployed in long voyages, either to the East and West Indies,
or to the whale and cod fisheries, amounted to 1000, ave-

3 12

436

FUANCE.

vaging 250 tons eacli. The exports to diiTerciu countries
in Euioi;c employed at tl.is pei-iod about 5bj,(;00 tons; of
v.hicli, little more than one I'oni'th, or 1 J2,ijo0 tons, were
rrcnch. In 1792, an ofiicial report was rna.le by lloland
to tlie National Convention; froni wiiich it appears, thai in
that year there cnteied inwards into the ports oi France,
7607 vessels, amounting lu 639,225 tons; of vvhich 1823
vessels, or 147,8 21 totis, v^erc I'rench; 1940 vessels, or
145,012 tons, were English; and 3344 vessels, or 346,402
tons, belonged to other nations : and in the same year there
cleared outwards 8618 vessels, amomiting to 544,935 tons;
ofwliich, 1910 vessels, or 147,410 tons, were l-'rencli ; 31 1 1
vessels, or 90,662 tons, were English; and 35 67 vessels,
or 306,853 tons, belonged to other nations. Eroin an offi-
cial leport laid before the Consuls in 1800, it appears, that
at that time the total number of ships employed in foreign
commerce, that entered inwards, amounted to 7581, or
273,137 tons; of which, 2975 vessels, or 98,304 tons were
French ; the rest belonged to foreigners: That the number
of vessels cleared outwards, amounted to 8636, or 312,967
tons: of vvhich, 3353 vessels, or 104,687 tons, belonged to
France. That the coasting trade between the ports of
France employed about 26,000 vessels, (including repeated
voyages,) or about 700,000 tons, nearly the wliole of which
■were French. The colonial and fisning vessels entered
inwards were 71, or 4769 tons ; and cleared outwards, 296
vessels, or 10,000 tons.

The coasting and inland trade of France, before the Re-
volution, were both very considerable; indeed, it has been
calculated, that the bringing the products of the south parts
of France along the coast, to those of the north, for the
supply of the capital and the northern provinces, consti-
tuted a coasting trade only inferior in magnitude to the coal
trade of England. The ships loaded at Bourdeaux, with
wines and fruits of all sorts, used to set out in a fleet, and
under convoy in time of war, and stop near the Isle of Rhe,
where they were joined by tl.e ships from Rochelle, laden
with wine, fruits, and corn ; hence they proceeded to the
coast of Brittany, where they were joined by another fleet
from Nantes and St Maloes, laden with brandy, corn, &c.
The fleet thus collected used frequently to amount to
150 or 20O sail. The very supplying of the city of Paris
with wood for fuel, employs an immense number of boats,
carts, Sec. A large portion of the inland trade of France is
still carried on by means of the numerous fairs, wliich are
kept in various parts of the kingdom : a proof, if proof were
■wanting, that this country is far behind Great Britain in
commercial industry, habits, and capital. We cannot pre-
tend even to enumerate all the principal fairs in France ;
but the fair of Beaucaire must not be passed over entirely
without notice. It was formerly kept within the city of
Beaucaire, in Languedoc ; but, when the reputation of it
increased, it was found necessary to keep it principally in
the open country ; and though the Revolution has afl'ected
it, yet it is still much frequeiUed. It begins on the 22d of
July, and continues three days. The conveniency of the
Rhone, on which Beaucaire stands, dra'vvs to its fair the
merchandise of Burgundy, Lyonnois, Switzerland, and Ger-
msny. The Lea, from which it is but seven leagues dis-
tant, brings the merchandise of the Levant, Italy, and Spain ;
and by the canal of Languedoc, it receives all that comes
from Upper Languedoc, Brittany, and the ocean. Besides
traders from most parts of continental Europe, before the
Revolution, there used also to be there Armenians, Per-
sia.is, Sec. The chief articles sold here are spices, drugs,
hard ware, woollen and silk stuffs, Spanish and Baibary
woo!, French wool, S:c.

The French fisheries, as t!;ey existed previously to the
Revolution, r.aturally divide tiiemselves into two branches.
The first blanch comprehends the distant cod fishery on the

bunks of Newfoundland, Iceland, Sec. and the whale fishei-y
in tiie Greenland seas and tiie Si)Utnerii Ocean ; the second
branch coniprehendb the near fisheries, on the coasts of
France, in liie iVlediterrancan, and in the ocean. These
consist of the fisheries of the herring, the mackerel, the
sardine, the anchovy, the tunny. Sec.

The French government does, not appear to have paid
any attention to the cod fishery on the t)anks of Newfound-
land till the year 1660; and then a monopoly of it was
granted. A few years after the peace of Utrecht, that is
to say, about the end of the reign of Louis XIV". the whole
produce of the cod fishery did not amount to more in value
than a million of livres. When France lost Newfound-
land, she established these fisheries at Cape Breton; and,
in 1745, more than 100 vessels arrived there from the mo-
ther country to engage in them. There were, besides, at
this period, from the Gut of Canso, down along the shore
to Louisburg, and thence to the N. E. part of Cape Breton,
annually employed at least 500 shallops, containing in all
2500 men ; and 60 brigs. Sec. containing 900 men ; in all
3400 men. Tlie total number offish annuaiiy caught and
salted at Cape Breton was estimated at 186,000 quintals.
There were also cod fisheries at other harbours on these
coasts; so that, on the most moderate estimate, it was
reckoned that there were 1,149,000 quintals of salted cod
brought to France from all her Nu: tii American fisheries;
the value of which, and of the oil made, was estimated at
upwards of 800,000/. sterling. The war of 1756 was ruin-
ous to this fisliei^y; nor did the treaty of peace in 1783
quite re-establish it. In 1785 there were cured 426,40t»
quintals of fisli, and upwards of 1000 tons of oil were made.
In the following year, the quantity of both had greatly di-
minished, there having been only 128.590 ciuintals of fish,
and 323 tons of oil. In 1788 and 1789, the quantity of both
increased ; but during the first years of the Revolution,
both had fallen almost completely away. At tne period of
the Revolution, the produce of the French cod fishery was
valued at 15,731,000 livres. In this sum is included the
value of the sedentary fishery, as it is termed, of the inhabi-
tants of the isles of St Pierre and Maquelin, which is rated
at 1,300,000 livres; that of the inhabitants of Dunkiik,
near Iceland, which is rated at 1,200,000 livres.

AVith respect to the whale fishery, it was carried on, in
the beginning of the 16th century, by the inhabitants of
Biscay, to a considerable extent, and with great skill, en-
terprize, and success; and, towards the middle of the 17th
century, was very productive. The inhabitants of St Jean
de Luz, Bayonne, and Cibourc, sent there between 50 and
60 ships, the Dutch not having yet embarked in it. In
1690, it wore a different aspect: the Basques scarcely sent
out 20 vessels, while the Dutch sent out more than 300.
At the end of the reign of Louis XIV. the Basques sent oO*
from 12 to 15 vessels annually to this fishery. Since that
period, this branch of fishery lias been almost totally lost to
the French ; towards the middle of the last century, in-
deed, the government made some efforts to re-eslabiish it
at Bayonne and Si Jean de Luz ; but their efforts were On-
availing. After the peace of 178 3, tlie minister of the ma-
rine brought over to Dunkirk some Nantucket whalers, to
assist and instruct the inhabitants in that fishery. At the
commencement of the Revolution, there sailed from that
port 15 vessels to Greenland and the South Seas ; which is
about the number that annuaiiy sailed towards the end of
the reign of Louis XIV. Tne produce was valued at
700,000 livres. In 1794, 40 vessels were employed at
DuTikirk in this fishery, but soon afterwards it was totally
ruined by the war.

The lierring fishery was pursued by the French in the
1 111) century, chiefly on the coasts of the Cl)annel. At the
end of the reign of Louis XI V. the produce of this fishery

I RANCH

437

appears to liavc been about 1,200,000 Ivvi-cs; and at the
coniiiicncfiment of the Revolution, 4,300,000 livres. The
lisliery of niaekcrel -and sardines were established by the
supeiintcnriant Fouquet, towards the end of the 17tli cen-
tury, principally at Kelleisle,on the coast of Brittany. Like
the herrini;, the sardine is a fish of passage, appeariiiL; up-
on the French coasts at certain seasons in shoals; but it is
never found in any of the rivers. They are met witli both
in the ocean and the Mediterranean, especially in the lat-
ter. The small sardines cauj^ht on the coast of Provence,
are esteemed by epicures as l)eing superior to all others of
tliis species. From 1000 to 1200 fishing smacks and boats
arc engaged in catching lliese fish on llie coasts of Britta-
ny, Provence, kc. from the monlli of June to the middle of
October. The French frequently cure their sardines in
red wine, and when thus prepared, call them by the name
oi anchoisrcs, or anchovied sai'dines. Fresh sardines are
conveyed on horseback from the ports of France to the in-
land cities and towns of that country. Anchovies are fished
for on the coast of Provence in the months of May, June,
and July, at which season shoals of tliis fish come regular-
ly into the Mediterranean. They are sent to Paris from
Cannes, Antibes, St Tropez, and other places in Provence.
Vast quantities of them are also exported to foreign coun-
tries. Pilchards are taken on the coasts of Brittany, and
employ annually about 3u0 small vessels. The tunny fish-
ery of the Mediterranean is a singular and iinportant branch
of industry: the manner in which this fish is caught, has
been called a sort of hunting at sea ; the best and most cer-
tain methods are the thonnaire and the madrague. The
former in many places is only an inclosure formed by
nets for catching the tunny : but at St Tropez, and on
the coast of Provence, the thonnaire is a net placed
in a spiral form, in which the tunnies, when caught,
are almost always dead, because it closes their gills,
and chokes them, for which reason the madrague is pre-
ferred. This is, in fact, a vast inclosure, composed of
three large nets, divided by others into many chambers or
compartments : before the net, towards tlie open sea, is a
large passage, formed by two parellel nets: the tunnies,
running in between them, enter the madrague, and passing
from chamber to chamber, they arrive at last at what is
called the chamber of death, or the cor/iou, or cor/ius. Af-
ter every thing has been made ready, the fishermen di-aw
up the nets of each chamber, in order to force the fish to
enter that which must prove fatal to them. The fisher-
men are in, the habit of throwing some drops of oil into the
sea, and entirely covering their beads with cloths, to ena-
ble them to perceive whether any fish are in the inclosure.
They a'lso fasten at the bottom of their boat an ass's head,
to entice the tunnies, which generally go to the edge of the
cor/iou to see this head. Tlie tunnies have great force in
their lails,sothat much caution is reqiiired in'getting them
into their boats. They come in such shoals, that in the
height of the season, that is, in the months of M.iy and June,
from 500 to 600 are sometime taken in a day, at ons 7)ia-
drogue Only. They commonly weigh from 10 to 20 or 25
lb. each; but they have been known to wBig!i 50 lb. The
tunny is eaten fresh in all places to which it can be con-
veyed sweet. The flesh, for so it may be called, is not less
solid than that of the sturgeon. Pics arc made of it, which
are so celebrated, as to be sent all over Franco. When it
is pick'ed, it is cut into slices, which are dipped in oil, after
they are impregnated with the salt. The oil which comes
from these fish when they are washed, and which is press-
ed out when they are seasoned, is used by tanners. The
tunny fishery has been Jess productive since the war, for
they are easily frightened; and the firing of the batteiies
on the coast appears to have kept them at a gveat distance.

There arc four madragues at Marseilles, which are rented
out to the fishers by the town, at a considerable advantage.
There are also two at St TropvTz, which are rented by the
government at 10,600 francs. Two nets are necessary to
each, and each net costs about 3000 francs. For the net
of the corjum, 250 lbs. of cork are required. This net
sometimes remains for a year or two in the sea; but those
which form the internal chaml)ers and the entrance pass-
age, are changed every six months. The sea, in the spot
in which the madrague is placed, is generally 40 fathoms
deep. When Louis XIII. visited Marseilles in 1GG2, he
was invited to a tunny fishery, at the principal madrague of
Margion, and found the diversion so much to his taste,
that he often said it was the pleasantest day he had spent
in his whole progress through the south of France. Ver-
net, among his other sea-pieces, has a very good one of this
fishery. The other fish caught on the Mediterranean coast
of France, are the palamede, which, though much smaller
than the tunny, is probably of the same species ; it is men-
tioned by Gibbon, in his description of Constantinople, as,
at the time of the fotmdation of that city, the most celebrat-
ed among the variety of excellent fish taken in the Pror
pontes; the d'orade, ihe /lageau, tha lou/t, Sec.

Red coral is found in the Mediterranean, on the shores
of Provence, from Cape de la Couronne to Cape St Tro-
pez. They use two machines in fishing for it. The one,
which pulls it from the rocks, is a large wooden cross, in
the centre of which is a heavy leaden ball ; at each extre-
mity is fixed a round net. The divers push one or two
arms of the cross into the cavities of such rocks as contain
coral, and the boatmen draw it up. The other machine is
used for drawing coral out of the deepest waters. It is a
long beam, at the end of which is fixed an iron ring, having
a reticular bag, with two round nets at each side. The
ring breaks oft" the small branches, and the nets entangle
and retain the others. A company has long been establish-
ed at Marseilles for this fishery. There are seven or eight
men to a boat, one of whom is the patron or proprietor.
When the fishery is ended, which produces on an average
25 quintals of coral to each boat, it is divided into 13 parts,
of wnich the proprietor has four, the caster two, and the
other six men one each ; the remaining one belongs to the
company. Coral is part of the traffic of Marseilles. Brace-
lets and necklaces are made of it there and at Genis, and
sell very well up the Levant.

Oysters are found in various places on the coast of
France. At the mouth of the Seine, they are few in num-
ber; but .of excellent quality. On the coast of Caen in Nor-
mandy,there is a bank six miles in iengthandonein breadth.
Tiiey are also found in the bay of Isigny, and in the neigh-
bourhood of Ciierbourg. Those in particular are highly
valued whicii are collected at the mouths of some streams,
where the sea water is sometimes thrown entirely back,
and which are called /mitres de /tied,. Granville in Nor-
mandy gains 50,000 livres by this fishery. On the coast of
Brittany there arc very large oysters, particularly at Cur-
cale, vviicre a great many are preserved in places inclosed
for tnat purpose. The oysters of Roscoflf, are also particu-
larly celebrated ; they are brought in great abundance to
Moriaix, and are by some preferred to those of Curcale.
The bank at Painpol is almost entirely exhausted. At the
mouth of the Loire, between the rocks on the coast of Poi-
tou, on the coast of Aunis and Saintonge, where those who
make bay-salt transplant oysters to marshy places, also a la
tete de Buck, near Bourdeaux, oysters are found. In Lan-
guedoc, near Cape Leucate, there is an oyster bed at the
deptli of 20 feet. There is also one at the mouth of the
Rhone. At Paris, those oysters are most esteemed which
come from Bntlany, R,ochelle, Bourdeaux, and paiticular-

438

FRANCE.

ly from Mcdoc, so celebrated i'or its claret. The principal
fish which the rivers of France yield, are salmon, £arp, trout,
piUc, and eels.

Tlic importance and value of all these branches of home
itshcry are very coiibiderablc : At the end of the reign of
Louis XIV. their value was at least 1,700,000 livres ; at
the commencement of the Revolution, it had increased to
9,300,000 iivrcE.

Having thus given a detailed account of French industry,
as exercised in agriculture, manufactures, commerce, &c,
we shall conclude with laying before our readers an esti-
mate of the value of the annual reproductions in these
branches, or their gross produce at the close of the 17th
century, and at the commencement of the Revolution ;
premising, however, that such an estimate must necessari-
ly be only an approximation to the truth, and that it is in-
teresting and important, not so much from its general re-
sult, as from the comparison which it presents between the
value of diflerent branches of industry.

In 1698, D'Avenant reckoned the general produce of the
land, and of the interior and external commerce of France,
— in short, the produce of all the occupations of her citi-
zens,— at 81,000,000/. sterling, or 1,984,500,000 livres
lournoisjor 36,730,000 marcs, at 54 livres to the marc.

The cconomistcs, some years previous to the Revolution,
valued the annual reproduction at between 3,134,000,000
and 4,000,000,000 livres.

In 1789 there appeared in France a memoir on the com-
merce of that kingdom and her colonies, which supplies the
following details on this subject.

I. .Agriculture.

Livres.

Corn, 700,000,000

Cattle, 400,000,000'

Hay and forage, 60,000,000

Wine, brandy, &c 350,000,000

Oil, 60,000,000

Wood, 146,000,000

Wool, 35,000,000

Silk, 25,000.000

Hemp and flax, 50,000,000

Total of agriculture, 1,826,000,000

2. Manufactures.

Linen, 161,250,000

Woollen, 92,500,000

Silk, 41,600,000

Millinery, 5,000,000

Tapestry, carpets, &c 800,000

Mercery and hardware, 75,000,000

Leather, 6,000,000

Paper, 7,200,000

Jewellery, Sec 2,500,000

Glass, iron, earthenware, &c 38,200,000

Soap, 5,000,000

Sugar refineries, 4,800,000

Salt, 2,700,000

Tobacco, 1,200,000

Starch, 1,200,000

Fisheries, 20,000,000

Different other branches of art, .... 60,000,000

Total of manufactures, &c. . . . 524,950,000

Produce of the agriculture of the colonies, 200,000,000

Houses and other buildings, 30 ).000,000

Articles omitted, 149,050,000

Total of agriculture, manufactures, colonial

produce, &c 3,000,000,000

In this general result, M. Arnold, in his treatise De la
Balance du Commerce de la France, M. le Trosne De r Ad-
ministration Pr'jvinciale, 1788, and M. Dupont Lcttrc a la
Chambre du Commerce de .Yormandir, nearly agree : the
first gives the total at 3,400,000,0(^0 ; M. Ic Trosne calcu-
lates it at 3,134,000,000; and M. Dupont at between
3,200,000,000 and 4,000,000,000.

CHAP. VII.

Pofiulation at different Periods — IVages-^Poor — Fuel and
Provisions — Religion — Finances before and since the Re-
■uotulion—Army — A'a-uy — Weights, Measures, and Mo-
ney— Language and Literature — .National Character.

There arc scarcely any data, on which we can calculate
the extent of the population of France, previously to the
Revolution ; yet it may be proper to notice some of the
conjectures on this head. In 1577, the Duke of Nevers
calculated, that in the dominions of France, there were
3,000,000 of hearths ; if we estimate each of them at six
persons to a family, it will give a population of only
18,000,000. But at this period, neither French Flanders,
Artois, Alsace, nor Lorraine, nor the counties of Burgun-
dy, Rousillon, Ardagne, nor Beam, were included in the
monarchy. In 1581, the whole kingdom contained 96 bi-
shoprics, and 132,000 parishes and hamlets. At the con-
clusion of the 17th century, it would appear from the re-
ports of the intendants of the several provinces, that the
population of France had not increased, since by them it is
rated only at 20,093,000 ; and at this period great additions
had been made to the territories of France. In the year
1754, the Marquis de Mirabeau rated the whole population
still lower, viz. at 18,000,000. In 1772, the Abbe d'Ex-
pilly estimated it at 22,140,357 ; and nearly at the same pe-
riod, Buifon estimated it at 21,672,777. In 1785, Neckar
rated it at 24,676,000. In 1789, M. Bouvaliet Desbroges
estimated it at 27,957,267; and in 1791, the Committee of
the National Assembly, from a more accurate calculation,
stated it to be 26,363,074. In 1798, according to M. Pro-
ry, the population of France, including Corsica and the con-
quered countries, amounted to 31,123,218 ; viz. 26,048,254
in the territories of ancient France ; 3,5 11,055 in the Venai-
sin. Savoy, Nice, Geneva, the Austrian Netherlands, &c. ;
and 1,563,909 in the countries situated between the Rhine
and the Moselle. In 1799, M. D'Epere, in his report to the
Council of Five Hundred, stated it at 33,501,694. The se-
natus consultum of the 4th of August 1802, made the whole
population of France amount to 33,1 1 1,962. This number
however, does not include Piedmont and the Isle of Elba.
From these and other data, we may safely conclude, that
the population of the kingdom of France, within the limits
now prescribed to it, is nearly 26,000,000; or, that if the
destruction caused by the ambition of Bonaparte has re-
duced it below that amount, it will soon rise to it again.

Of the 26,363,074 inhabitants, which, according to the re-
port of the committee of the National Assembly, constitu-
ted the population of France in the year 1791, 5,709,270
were inhabitants of the cities, towns, &c. and 20,521,538
were inhabitants of the country. From this it appears, that
at this period less than one-fourth of the people inhabited
towns; and from Mr Birkbeck's remarks, it is evident that
this is the case at present, at least to an equal degree. His
observations deserve to be quoted. "The population of
France seems to be arranged thus : a town (Moulins for in-
stance) depends for subsistence on the lands immediately
surrounding it. The cultivators, individually, have not
much to spare ; because, as their husbandry is a sort of

FRANCE.

439

gardening, it requires a large country population, and lias
in proportion less superfluity of produce. Thus is formed
a numerous but poor country population. The daily sup-
ply of the numberless petty articles of French diet employs,
and therefore produces, a multitude of little traders. It
must be brought daily from the country ; and the number
of individuals whom this operation employs is beyond cal-
culation. Multitudes, again, make a scanty liviug, by re-
tailing through the streets these low-priced and perishable
articles. The cultivator receives payment for his surplus
produce in sous, and he expends only sous. The trades-
man is on a par with the farmer ; as they receive, so they
spend. And thus 50,000 persons may inhabit a district,
with a town of 10,000 persons in the centre of it ; bartering
the superfluity of the country for the arts and manufactures

of the town. Poor from generation to generation, and grow-
ing continually poorer as they inrrease in numbers ; in the
country, by the division and subdivision of property ; in
the town, by the division and subdivision of trades and pro-
fessions."

The following Table exhibits the population of diffcreiit
districts of France, as it existed at the end of the l7tU
century, and a few years previous to the Revolution ; witii
the number of people to the square league, at each period,
and the increase in the latter period. It may be proper
to premise, that the population of the former period is
taken from the report of the Intendants, and that of the
latter period from the book of the administration of the .
finances of France.

Districts.

Square.

Leagues.

Inhabitants at
the end of the
17th century.

Inhabitants

to the square

League.

Inhabitants a
few years before
the Revolution.

Inhabitants

to the square

league.

In- :
crease.

Maritime districts, ....
Frontiers, comprising Lorraine,

Interior distrcts,

District of Paris,

District of Lyons, ....

10538

7848

6991

1157

416

8 775,000
4,383,000
4,995,000
1,577,000
363,000

832
583
714
1363
875

10,180,000

6,132,000

5,949,000

1,782,000

634,000

966

781

850

1540

1522

134 ;

198
136
177
647

26.950

20,093,000

782

24,677,000

915

133

Assumingthe population in 1802 to have been 33,1 1 1,9 62,
including all the territories at that time annexed, except
Piedmont and the Isle of Elba, French and Austrian Flan-
ders, which comprised the departments of the Sclieldt, the
Lys, and the North, contained 1,748,669 inhabitants within
a territory of 4136i miles, which is somewhat more than
422 inhabitants per square mile. The population of the
country round Paris, notwithstanding the weight of that
'ity in the scale, was inferior. If we take the two depart-
ments of the Seine, and the Seine and Oise, the department
of the Marne, exclusive of the district of Fountaineblcau,
and besides the two districts of Beauvais and Senlis, which
belong to tlie department of the Oise, we shall find in 1802
only a population of 1,496,223 over an extent of 4198f
square miles. Next to Flanders, Normandy is the most
populous district in France. The five departments of
which it is composed, exhibit a population of 2,465,507
souls, in 1802, over a surface of 91 75-| square miles, equal
to 268| inhabitants per mile. The population of the south-
east of France, on the contrary, is very small. In the three
departments of the Alps there was not in 1802 more than
30 inhabitants per mile. The population of the Pyrenees
was also very thin, though superior to that of the Alps.
The three departments of the Pyrenees and that of the
Arriege contained 900,167 inhabitants over an extent of
6532J square miles, or nearly 138 per square mile. The
most populous of all the departments, to the south of the
48 degree of latitude, is that of the Mouths of the Rhone,
which, however, in 1802, contained only 320,072 inhabi-
tants over a territory of 1550| square miles, or about 205
inhabitants per square mile. The population of most of
the rest of the departments in this portion of France was
very inconsiderable : if, for instance, the eleven depart-
ments of Aude, Avcyron, Cher, Drome, Indrc, Laiides,
Loire and Cher, Logere, Nievre, Var, and Vienne, be
taken together, their population in 1802 will be found to
be only 2,599,9 11 inhabitants over 23,778 siiuare miles;
that is, 109 inhabitants per square mile, which is little
more than one-fourtU of the population of P'landers. If
the population of these eleven departments be added to
that above stated of the Alps and the Pyrenees, it will ap-

pear that in 1802, there were only 3,017,320 inhabitants
over a territory of 126,869 kilometers ; whence it appears
that this southern part of France contained then only the
eleventh part of its inhabitants, notwithstanding it is one
fifth of its extent. Thus it appears, that although one
third part of France, as it existed in 1802, only lay on the
north of the parallel of Paris, yet the population of the
northern part, Paris included, was not much inferior to
the southern division. Taking the whole population of
I'rance as it was in the beginning of 1802, when its terri-
torial extent was 30,505 square leagues, it gives 1086 in-
habitants for the square league. Estimaling the acres at
131,722,295, and taking the population to be, as it was in
the beginning of the Revolution, 26,363,074, there will at
present be nearly five acres a head.

In 1802, Paris was calculaleil to contain 546,856 inhabi-
tants ; there were 3 cities, that contained above 100,000
each, viz. Bourdeaux, Marseilles, and Lyons ; S, from
100,000 to 50,000 ; but in these were included Antv.-erp,
Brussels, Ghent, and Liege; 12, from 50.000 to 30,000;
but in these also were included Cologne and Bruges; 22,
from 30,000 to 20,100 ; 24, from 20,000 to 15,000 ; and 45,
from 15,000 to 10,000. In short, at this period there were
calculated to be 500 towns in the French republic, as it
then existed, containing 5405, 119 inhabitants.

The annual number of births in France is as 1 to 25 :
and of these every 47th child in 1780 was illegitimate ; the
proportion of illegitimate children since the. Revolution
lias very much increased, the calculation being that every
llth child is now illegitimate. The number of marriages
is as 1 to 110. The number of deaths is as 1 to 30. The
prefect of the department of the Doubs, on comparing the
accounts of the children that died under 10 years of age
in ISOO, and of those that died under 10 years of age
in 18u2, found that 939 more children had died in that
single department in 1800 than in 18o2, and ascribed the
difference to the great progress which vaccine inoculation
had made in the latter period. In 1801, M. Morgues
published a statistical Essjy, containing the result of 2!
years observations on the relative and actual number of
births, deaths, and marriages at Montpellier, from 1771 to

440

FRANCE.

1792. Tbe average of the whole population, duiing the
•whole 21 years, was 32,897 : duiing the three autumnal
nionlhs there were one-fourth more births than duiing the
three spring months ; yet tlie greatest nuirihcr of births
•was in January, and the least in June. The average an-
nual births were 1197or ^'y, onc-huU of the whole popula-
tion. The number of males born was to that of females
as 20 to 2 1 }. The illegitimate children formed ilh of the
whole annual reprodiiciion, whereas in Paris they formed
lib. The number of marriages was 282, which to the
■whole population was as 1 to 1 18 : of these that were Ijorn,
1 in 2^ was married. The number of deaths each year
was 1112; and their proportion to the whole population
■was as 1 to 29=;.: of these 546 were children under 10
years old. Winter and spring were the healthiest sea-
sons. The burials in August were to those in May, as
3A to 2. In 1774, 1778, and 1783, the smallpox was
epidemic, and in those years the annual mortality was in-
creased by 425 children. In the 21 years above mention-
ed, three men and 13 women died at the age of loo and
upwards ; and one person in 7i arrived at the age of 70.

The condition of the great mass of the people in France,
with respect to their pecuniary circumstances, since the
Revolution, may be I'egardcd as on the whole improved ;
but at the same time, it indicates a state of society by no
means far advanc. d. The peasautry in most places, as
■well as the small class of farmers, and even the more ex-
tensive class of farmers in some parts of the kingdom,
gi-ow, or make within themselves, nearly all that their
families consume, or wear; the same comparatively little
advanced state of society is irjdicated by the not uncom-
mon mode of paying for labour by a part of what it pro-
duces or performs. With respect to pecuniary wages,
they are nominally lower, not in fact higher than they are
in England ; for though the money given is less, yet from
the cheapness of provisions, Sec. it commands more of the
necessaries and comforts of life. In France, however, as
probably in all countries, at least in Europe, not only the
nominal but the real rate of wages has increased gradually
for a considerable length of time, and perhaps in a greater
proportion, within these last 30 years. In 1756, the price
of labour at the places mentioned below, was as follows :
At Lisle, the wages of journeymen stocking and camlet
weavers, was about 24 sous per day, that is about 1 3d.
English : the journeymen weavers and cloth-workers at
Abbeville gauied, according to the nature of their work,
and their dexterity, from 20 to 50 sous a day ; whereas
women, at the same place, engaged in the same manufac-
ture, did not gain more than 12 sous a-day. Iledgers and
ditchers in the country only 10 sous a-day. At Nantes,
the journeymen ship carpenters, about SO sous a-day. At
Castelnandary, labourers, mending the canal of Languedoc,
by the job, earned about 12 sous a-day. At Nismes, jour-
neymen weavers in the silk and cotton trade, from 30 to
35 sous a-day. At Marseilles, journeymen tailors 30 sous
a-day. At the same place, carpenters 30 sous ; silk wea-
vers from 30 to 35 sous. At Toulon, journeymen carpen-
ters, in the King's yards, 30 sous per day. At Lyons, jour-
neymen workmen had several prices, according to the
silks, velvets, gold stuffs, laces, kc. from 50 to 100 sous
a-day. Land carriage of goods, from Marseilles to Lyons,
230 miles, from six to seven livres, per 108 libs. English,
(Tucker's Essaij on Trade, p. 75.) When Mr Young
travelled in France, immediately before the Revolution, he
averaged the eaniings on all the fabrics manufactured in
that kingdom, at 26 sous for the men, and 15 sous for the
women ; the wages of the spinners being nine sous. At
the same time he calculated the wages of the men employ-
ed in tlic manufactures of England to average 20d. a-day.

or rather more than 40 sous ; tlie women 9u. or rather more
than 18 sous j and the spinners 6jd or about 13 sous. On
a comparison of these prices, it appears, liiat, at this pe-
riod, the wages of the men in England was neaily double
the wages of the men in France, whereas the wages of the
women in the former country was little more than wh-dt it
was in France. The average earnings of men through-
out the kingdom, employed in all sorts of work, Mr Young
estimated at 19 sous; masons and carpenters, however,
got 30 sous : He considered that the price of labour had
risen about 20 per cunt, in the course of 25 years. The
same author calculated the average rate of wages for all
kinds' of labour in England, to be, about 1750, Is. 3d. a-
day ; and in 1789, when he travelled in France, about Is.
4}d. a-day. The result of his enquiries respecting the
comparative price of mtat and brea(',Hnd the rate of wages
in the two countries, in 1789, was, that labour in England
averaged 33 J sous, while meat was Sh sous, and bread 3 J
sous per pound; whereas in France, labour averaged 19
sous, and meat was 7 sous, and bread 2 sous the pound.
Hence it appears, that the nominal price of labour was
nearly 76 per cent, cheaper in France than in England ;
and the real price, considered with reference to its com-
mand over meat, was less, while its real price, considered
with regard to its command over bread, was nearly the
same in both countries. In 1814, Mr Birkbeck seems to
have taken a good deal of pains to ascertain the compara-
tive price of labour and provisions in France. He found
that, at Rouen, women who attended the looms earned I5d.
per day, e(|ual to 11 pounds of bread; the labourers em-
ployed by a small farmer in the neighbourhood of that
place, had lOd. per day, and their board ; and 20d. per day
without board. On this he remarks, that, "as all provi-
sions, every article of expenditure, may be taken at some-
thing under half the English price, by doubling their
wages, we may find the proportion they bear to ours."
In the south of France, near Vienne, the French labourer
received three bushels and one-third for harvesting and
thrashing, for every 18 bushels thrashed; the English
labourer receives for the same work only about a tenth :
money wages are nearly in the same proportion. About
Lunet, the wages were 20d. per day for the men, and from
lOd. to l5d. per day for the women, employed in agricul-
ture ; the former rate, considering the price of pi'ovisions,
Mr Birkbeck considers as equal to 3s. 4 i. in England.

Before the Revolution, the poor in France were uni-
versally supported, either by the ecclesiastics, or by beg-
ging. Not long after the seizure of the ecclesiastical
estates, the National Assembly publicly declared, that they
would consider the care of the poor as one of their primary
duties. They appointed also a commit'.ce of jnenc/icati,
whose business was to enquire into, and report to the As-
sembly, the state of the poor, and the best means of ex-
tinguishing indigence in France. Of this committee the
Duke of Liancourt was the chairman. Four reports were
laid before the .'Assembly; in their third report, the com-
mittee examine tlie idea of establishing a pool's rate, but
with great wisdom absolutely reject it. In their fourth
report, however, they declare that the poor have a right
to pecuniary assistance from the state ; that the National
Assembly ought to consider such provision as one ol its
first and most sacred duties ; and tiiat an exp^nce, witli
this view, ought to be incurred, to the amount of 50 mil-
lions of livres a-year. The unsettled state of France, how-
ever, seems to have prevented the execution of any plan
founded on this report; and, at present, the poor are sup-
ported in the following manner. In large towns there- are
generally two hospit-als, one for the indigent sick, the other
for the aged poor; these are supported by a small duty

FUANCE.

441

paid at the cntranre or these towns, on all kinds of provi-
sions, called COclroi dc Binifaifiunce ; or rather, these
octrois provide for tlic wliole puhlic expenditure, and part
of the receipt is applied to the maintenance of the hospi-
tals. A contribution, purely voluntary, is also made for
the same purpose. In country communes, there is no
regular provision ; but, in cases of extraordinary distress,
the mayor and council of every commune are authorised
to apply relief.

Wood is the common fuel throughout France, and in
some parts, especially in Paris, is a very expensive article.
Coal, though, as we have already seen, it is by no means
scarce, is seldon\ used, a prejudice existing against it :
where turf or peat is found, it is used. The common peo-
ple in general consume but little meat; bread made of rye,
of rye and wheat, or of barley and wheat, chesnuts, maize
prepared in different ways, and fruit, are their usual food :
they drink but little wine, even where it is cheap and abun-
dant. Their cloths, being mostly made of materials grown
by themselves, are coarse, but they are better supplied, es-
pecially with linen, than the peasantry of England. To a
person who has been accustomed to see nearly the same
mode of dress in all parts of England, even the most re-
mote, it seems singular to observe in France such a diver-
sity of fashions : so little is the intercourse even between
the capital and the adjacent provinces, that, in the latter,
modes of dress are seen which have not prevailed in the
former probably for nearly a century. The cottages of the
peasantry are in general small ; but in many parts of France
by no means destitute of convenience or taste. In many
of the vine provinces, the Vigncrons inhabit cottages dug
out of the sides of the chalk hills.

Hefore the Revolution, there were 18 archbishops and
1 12 bishops in France, besides six suffragan bishops. The
number of parishes attliattime was 40,000. There were 800
convents of monks, 281 nunneries, and 679 chapters. The
number of religious of all orders, and of both sexes, has been
variously estimated, and of course varied ; but the general
opinion is, that the total number of male religious was about
130,000, and of female about 82,000. There is also great
imcertainty respecting the amount of the revenue of the
clergy before the Revolution: Mr Neckar calculates it at
5,687.500/. sterling, of which the cures of parishes had
1,859,375/.

At present, the Roman Catholic religion is declared that
of the majority of the French people, and it is supported
by the state ; but the state provides equally for the ministers
of the reformed church, either of the Lutheran or Calva-
nistic confession, and superintends even the synagogues of
the Jews. The difference in religion is no bar to the ad-
vancement of any French citizen to the highest offices in
the state.

By a decree of the National Assembly of tlx; !2th July
1790, the archbishops were reduced to 10, and the bishop-
rics to S3 ; but, in conformity with the concordat concluded
on the 25th July 1801, a new ecclesiastical division was
adopted, which established 10 archbishops and 5 1 bishops
in France proper.

As the constitution of France is yet unfixed, or, at least,
is liable to alteration, we shall not pretend to give even a
sketch of it ; but as the arrangements fui- the internal go-
vernment of the country will probably be |iermilted to re-

main, they may be shortly mentioned ; premising, that
there are ten ministei s and one secretary of state, viz. a mi-
nister for the department of the administration of justice,
called the Circat Judge ; a minister for the foreign depart-
ment— for the home department — for the financial admi-
nistration of the kingdom — a chancellor of tlie cxchcrjucr—
a war minister — for the administration of tlie war depart-
ment— for the administration of naval and colonial affairs —
for the general policeof the kingdom — and for the religious
institutions of the country. There is an uiferior court of
justice in every district, and a justice of the peace in every
canton. There are a number of courts of appeal, and two
supreme tribunals. Each department is administered by a
prefect, and as many sub-prefects as it contains districts.
The details of the administration descend from the sub-
prefects to the mayors, v/ho are not chosen by the people,
but by the government.

The taxes paid hefore the Revolution may be classed un-
der the five heads of direct taxes, monopolies, duties of ex-
cise, custom and transit duties, and stamps. The produce
of the direct taxes amounted to about one-third of the whole
revenue. One of these, the capitation tax, which fell very
lightly on the nobility, and not at all on the clergy, yielded
about one-fifth of this sum. The other direct taxes were
the -uingtie/ncs, which nearly resembled the English land-
tax — and the Caille, another species of land-tax, so unequal-
ly levied, that it fell almost exclusively on the poorer pro-
prietors. The monopolies were that of salt, which, under
the name oi gahelle, was levied by government on about two-
thirds of the kingdom ; that of snuff', and that of brandy and
other spirits, which was levied only in certain provinces.

The excise comprehended taxes on leather, on the ma-
nufacture of starch, and of cards, on iron, oil, &c. besides
other contributions. The transit duties included not only
the customs payable on the export and itnport of merchan-
dize at the sea ports, but also those which were levied at
the gates of the towns, and a variety of tolls of different
kinds. The stamp duties were levied on almost all kinds
of contracts, and affected all changes of property. Under
the old monarchy, according to Neckar, the expences of
collection amounted to 10^ per cent, on all the taxes
paid by the people. At this period, the farmers-general,
the general and particular receivers, and all the subalterns
in the service of the treasury, advanced sums to the go-
vernment as securities for the faithful discharge of their
trust. For these securities they were paid an interest of 3
per cent, and in some cases of 7.

The following were the taxes on land under the old go-
vernment, according to Mr Young.

Taxes on Land.

French Money.
Livres.

English Money.

Vingtiemes ....

TaiUe

Local impositions . .

Capitation

Decimes

Sundries

55,565,254

81,000,000

1,800,000

22.000,000

10,600,090

60,000

L. 2,430,980

3,543,750

78,750

962,500

463.750

26,250

171,565.264

L. 7,505.980

Vol.. IX. Part. II.

442

FRANCE.

Taxes on Consumption.

Salt

Wine, Brandy, Sec. .

Tobacco

Leather

Paper and Cards . .
Starch and Powder .

Iron

Oil ......

Glass

Soap

Linen and Stuff's . .
Octrois, &c.

Cattle

Customs

Tolls

Stamps

Local duties . . .

French Money.
Livres.

58,560,000

56,250,181

27,000,000

5,850,008

1,081.509

758,049

980,000

763.000

150.000

838,471

150,000

57,561,552

630,000

23,440,000

5,000.000

20,244,473

1,133,162

260,390.905

English Money.

. 2,362,000

2,460,444

1,181 ,205

255.937

47,315

33.164

42,875

33,381

6.562

36,704

6,562

2,518,317

27,562

1,025,500

218,750

885,695

49,575

L. 11,391,548

General Revetme.

Taxes on land . . . .

Domaincs

Consumption . . . .

Pfiisoiial

Monopolies

Sundries

Taxes not received on
account of government

171,565,264
9,900,000

260,390,905
44. -240.000
28,513,774
12,580,000

95,900,000

L. 7,505,980

433,125

11,39 1,548

1,935.50 -

1,247,496

550,375

4,195,625

622,999,943 L. 27,259,649

At the Revolution, the taxes of excise were completely
abolished, and all the other indirect taxes materially sim-
plified. The present regular revenue is derived from a
land-tax, which is about 15 per cent, both for landlord and
tenant ; a personal tax ; a tax on moveables and sumptua-
ries ; on houses and windows ; on patentees ; on the privi-
lege of exercising any profession; additional centimes or
hundreds; from the produce of the national domains and
forests; customs, post-ofFice, lottery, salt mines, &c. All
these taxes, in 1803, produced a total sum of 569,500,000
francs. The expenditure tire same year amounted to
589,500,000 francs. The expence of collection was be-
tween 15 and 16 per cent. It was calculated by the minis-
ter of finance, in this year, that the capital value of the real
property of France was at least 30 milliards of francs.

Every village and commune of France has a collector or
tax gatherer, who pays over the amount of his receipts to
a treasurer, called a particular receiver, of whom there is
one for every district. There is also a receiver-general for
each department, into whose hands the particular receiver
pays the sums drawn from the collectors, and who commu-
nicate directly with the treasury, '^hey are all under the
superintendance of an administration, entitled the Direc-
tion of the Taxes. In 1805, the number of chief officers
belonging to the direction of taxes, amounted, throughout
the empire, without including Piedmont, to 1044.

It must be evident, that it is scarcely possible to gain an
accurate idea of the revenue or expenditure of a country
situated as France has bfen since the Revolution, and espe-
cially during the latter part of Bonaparte's reign ; for, in
the first place, the annual reports were evidently made up
ibr the purposes of deceit; and, in the second place, had
they been impartial, no conclusion of general importance

could have been drawn from them, as so much of the
wealth of France, or rather of the means of defraying her
enormous expenditure, was drawn from plunder. Evet) the
finance report of 1814, after the abdication of Bonaparte,
must be received with c;iution; since the framers of it un-
doubtedly wished to exaggerate the evils his tyranny had
caused, and, besides, hardly gave themselves sufficient lei-
sure to gain an accurate knowledge of the real state of the
finances. Premising these rejsons lor caution, we shall
give some of the details of this report for 1814. Tlie budget
of the minister of the interior, states the mass of all the
funds appropriated to the different services of that depart-
ment, amounted, in 1811, to 143,000,000; in 1812, to
150,000,000 ; and in 1813, to 140,000,000. The public trea-
sury never contributed to this mass of funds more than
60,000,000 ; the remainder arose from special duties and
imposts. Till the accession ol Louis, it was not known that
the budgets of 1812-13 presented a deficit of 312,000,000.
Till the commencement of the war in the Peninsula, all de-
ficiencies were more than covered by foreign pillage : after
that, while the expences increased by the wars, the reve-
nue fell off; so that, in a very few years, there was an addi-
tion to the national debt of 1,645,469,000 francs ; the perpe-
tual annuities alone, which he found it necessary to give,
amounting to 47,000,000, equal to a capital of 300,000.000.
One half of these, however, were employed in paying off
former debts. The whole of the detnandable debt, at the
accession of Louis, amounted to 759,000,000 francs: at the
time of the Revolution, it exceeded three milliards, or
3,000,000,000 of francs. The receipts of 1814 were calcu-
lated by the Tiiinister of finance at 520,000,000; the expen-
diture at 827,415,000, leaving a deficit of 307,415,000.
The expences of 1815 were calculated at 547,700,000 ; and
the following were the ways and means proposed to meet
these expences. Direct contributions, 340,000,000 ; re-
gistry, domains, and woods, (the domainal forests still
amounting to 1,400,000 hectares), 120,000,000; posts, lot-
tery, salt-works, tolls on navigation, and incidental receipts,
28,000,000; indirect contributions, 130,000,000 ; making a
total of 618,000,000. We have given these calculations,
though subsequent events rendered it impossible that they
should be realized, because they exhibit a probable picture
of what will be the resources and expenditure of France,
when that kingdom is restored to tranquillity.

The amount of specie existing in France before the Re-
volution was estimated by Neckar at 2,200,000.000 francs.
In the year 1789, it is stated by Bouvallet Desbrosses, in
his Tableau dea Richessesde la France, at 2,474-254,960 li-
vres, 350,000,000 of which consisted in notes of t .c Cuisse
d'Esconipte. In the year 1807, Peuchet, in his Statistiijue
de la France, supposes it to have amounted, within the li-
mits of the old territory, to 1,850,000,000. In 1789. it was
calculated, that, in the maritime (iepsnments. the circula-
ting medium amounted to 1,053,838350 livres; and the
business transacted by its means, to 4.485,600,000 livres.
In those on the boundaries of P'rance, the money in circu-
lation amounted only to 385.227,000 livres, and the busi-
ness done with it to 453,600,000. In the central depart-
ments, the circulating medium was 1,035,189.600 livres ;
and the trade carried on with it amounted to 1 1,874,600,000
livres.

The bank of France was established in 1801, or ra-
ther it was new-modelled then, with a capital stock of
30,000,000 of francs in specie, made up of 30.000 shares
of 1000 francs each. The amount of its notes in circula-
tion was generally about 4,000,000 sterling : its dividend
has always exceeded 5 per cent. ; but only that sum was
paid, the surplus being reserved as a stock when the divi-
dend might be under 5 per cent. Its notes are not a le-

FRANCE.

443

gal tender : it discounts the acceptances of government
and individuals ; and receives deposiu of sums not below
50 francs, lor which it gives recognizances bearing inter-
est. Its general assembly is composed of 200 holders,
each of five shares or above, who elect 15 directors and
three censors, each of whom must be holders of at least
thirty shares. Between 1783 and 1803, the bank of France
was exposed to four temporaiy suspensions, viz. in 1783,
1787, 1798, and 1802. In 1806, a much more serious
stoppage took place; and again, in 1814, when the allies
entered France, and just before Bonaparte left Paris, to
put himself at the head of his army.

The public funds of France consist of, 1st, Bank shares,
or actio7is de la ba?i(jue, as they are called ; and, 2d, Third
consolidated, or tiers consotide. The latter is a 5 per cent,
stock. The bank stock is disposed of in shares, or ac-
tions of 1000 francs each.

On the 1st of May 1814, the land forces of France
amounted to more than 520,000 men, including all de-
scriptions. Besides this force, there were 122,597 mili-
tary of all ranks enjoying half pay : in Prussia, Russia,
Austria, and England, there were 160,000 prisoners. The
pay of men in active service for the year 1814 amounted
to 202,000,000 francs: the half pay to 34,000,000; ma-
king a total of 236,000,000 francs. The war of 1812-
1 3 destroyed, in artillery and ammunition, 250,000,000 ;
and the fortified places in the countries ceded by France,
in the treaty of Paris, cost, since the year 1 804, 1 1 5,000,000.

Although we may now hope that the army of France,
that dreadful engine by means of which Bonaparte inflict-
ed on Europe so many evils, is put beyond the power of
farther mischief, yet it may not be unmtcresting to notice
its constitution during the period of its most formidable
strength. There were generally 90 infantry regiments,
each at 3230 men each ; 27 regiments of light infantry,
at the same number of men each ; 2 regiments of carabi-
neers; 12 regiments of cuirassiers; 30 regiments of dra-
goons ; 24 regiments of chasseurs ; 10 regiments of hus-
sars ; 8 regiments of artillery on foot ; 6 regiments of
horse artillery; 22 battalions of the artillery train; 16
companies of artillery labourers ; 2 battalions of pontoon-
ers ; 9 companies of miners ; 5 battalions of sappers ; 1
battalion of gardes du genie. These were commanded by
IS marshals of the empire, 150 generals of division, 300
generals of brigade, and 135 adjutants-commandants. The
army was recruited by voluntary enlistings, and by a rigo-
rous conscription, which comprised all Frenchmen from the
age of 20 to 25, without any distinction of rank, fortune,
or business. Every soldier might rise to the highest rank ;
no commission could be sold. The military spirit was
also animated by the decoration of a military order, called
the Legion of Honour, which is still retained. It was ori-
ginally composed of 16 cohorts, possessed each of nation-
al domains to the amount of 200,000 francs annually. Each
cohort consisted of 7 great or superior officers or digni-
taries, 2o commaiders, 30 officers, and 350 legionarees.
The gi-eat officers had an annual income of 5000 francs;
the commanders 2000 ; the officers 1000, and the legiona-
ries 250. The knights of the legion of honour amount to
between 6000 and 7000.

In the reign of Louis XIV. the Frenc!) navy was strong
enough to equip a fleet of 63 ships of the line, 7 frigates,
36 vessels armed en Jlute, and 14 cutters, under the or-
ders of Tourville, in the year 1690. In 1704, the French
fleet that fought the coinbined English and Dutch fleets
consisted of 50 ships of the line, 8 frigates, and 9 fire-
ships. In 1791, the French navy consisted of 73 ships of
the line, 67 frigates, 19 cutters, 29 armed brigs, 7 gun-

boats, besides several hospital ships, galliots, 8cc. But the
war with England annihilated the navy of France. Tiie ef-
forts of Bonaparte, however, were incessantly directed to
its re-establishnicnt. According to the expose for 1814,
the most absurd of Bonaparte's schemes were those wliich
related to the establishment of a numerous and powerful
navy. Paris iiself saw a dock-yard foimed within its walls.
And what now remains of all these armaments? The wrecks
of some of the vessels, and accounts which prove that, for
the successive creation and destruction of this monstrous
and useless flotilla, upwards of 150,000,000 francs have •
been sacrificed since 1803. The grind works executed at
Cherbourg, and the fine squadron of Toulon, alone, pre-
sent useful results. All the arsenals are completely dilapi-
dated ; the immense naval stores collected by Louis XVI.
are squandered ; and during the last 15 years, France lost
43 ships of the line, 82 frigates, and 75 corvettes, which
could not be replaced at an expense of 200,000,000. In
1814, the total debt of the navy amounted to 61,300,000
francs.

During the republican government, a system of uniform
weights and measures was established upon a simple plan.
The elementary measure is connected with the dimensions
of the terrestrial globe. This measure, which is called
metre, or mesure par excellence, is the ten millionth part
of a quarter of the terrestrial meridian, that is, of the
distance of the equator from the pole ; it is equal to 3 feet
1 l^Vo '"'^''^^''- The arc serves to measure the surface of
the soil, in the same manner as the arpent ; it is equal to
100 square metres, or 948^^^ square feet. The stere is
equal to a cubic metre, or -^^^J^ cubic feet. The litre is
the measure of capacity ; it is equal to a cubic decimetre,
or 50-*^Sij cubic inches, or J^t'i of the former pint of Paris.
The gramme marks the weight ; it is equal to the weight
of a cubic centimetre, of pure water, at its maximum of
density. It has been found equal to 18.827 French grains,
of which 5.76 make 472.5 English ; and 489.5058 gram-
mes make a pound of the standard of the mint at Paris.

These five primitive measures are successively multi-
plied or divided by 10, in order to form the greater or
smaller measures, by analogy to the decimal system of
arithmetic. The three divisors are deci. ce7iti, and milli,
expressing the tenth, hundredth, or thousandth part ; llius
decimetre is the 10th part of the metre, declare the 10th
part of the arc, &c. The four multiplicators are deca,
hectu, kilio, and myria, denoting ten times, hundred times,
thousand times, and ten thousand times : thus the decame-
tre is 10 metres, the hectare 100 arcs, the kiliometre 1000
metres, the myriagramme 10,000 grammes.

The standard coin of France is a piece of silver of the
weight of five grammes, or five times 18-^^jjL grains,
containing -J^th of alloy and ^'oths of pure silver, and very
nearly the 24th part of the pound sterling metallic value,
being nearly the same with the livre tournois : it is called
a franc, and divided into decimes and centimes. There are
pieces of 5 francs, 2 francs, |, i and i franc. The gold
coins, like the silver coin, contain -jLth of alloy and^'^ths
of pure metal. They are called Napoleons d'or or octo
grammes : an octo gramme of gold is worth 25 francs.

The basis of the fiench language is Latin, on which are
engrafted Celtic and Gothic words and idioms. It is more
remarkable for refinement and precision, than fqr energy
or dignity. Their wi'iters have rendered their language
familiar to the lovers of literature throughout Europe; and
in the value of their productions, they have no equals
among the moderns, with the sole exception of the Eng-
lish. Even the mathematical sciences have been cultiva-
ted by them with a success, certainly not inferior to that
3 K3

444

FRANCE.

of any other nalion. Their taste in letters is purer than in
the Hue arts, in whicli there is a superabundance of orna-
jiient and an afl'ccted manner. Before tlic Uevolution, there
were 21 universities, and 39 academics and literary socie-
ties in France. During the Revolution a rcj_;ular system
of schools has been repeatedly decreed, though it does
nol appear that they have been actually established, or
have at least proceeded so successfully and usefully, as the
ofTicial reports represented. On the whole, however, edu-
cation is more general now than it was previous to the
Revolution.

" Tiie essence of the French character is an exuberance
of animal spirits, producing excess of mobility, and a
perpetual restless activity. They are quick, ingenious,
fertile in expedients, buoyant against difficulty or adver-
sity; but mutable, trifling, confident, vain, credulous, and
incapable of Tnoderalion. AVilh much that renders them
amiable in society, as readiness to oblige, delicate atten-
tions, kind sympathy, and lively sensibility, they are often
of insecure commerce, from laxity of piiiiciplo, unmean-
ing professions, jealous irritability, and a strong propen-
sity to intrigue. Their feelings of every kind verge to ex-
cess; and there is nothing either good or bad, of which
they are not capable, under the influence of their impetu-
ous ardour. No cabinet has excited so much disturbance
among the neighbouring states, from ambition and the
spirit of intermeddling, as that of France ; and we have
seen, that no change of political system at home has made
an alteration in tiieir foreign policy. The French, beyond
all people, are the creatures of society : by it their man-
ners and sentiments are fashioned, and in it are centred
their chief pleasures and gratifications. They would excel
all nations in the art of conversation, were not the de-
sire of shining too universal. The love of glory operates
upon them with extraordinary force, and stimulates them
to great exertions ; but it is often attended with empty os-
tentation and gasconade.

Voyage dans ks 102 Defiartements de la France, par
Brion.

Voyage fait en \7%7 et 1788 dans la Haute et Basse Au-
-<frffne. par ie Grand D'Aussy. 3 vol. 1795.

Voyage dana lea Dejiartemena du Midi de la Prance, par
Millin. 4 vol. 8vo. 1807—18 11.

Journal des Mines, 1796 — 1813. 34 vol.

Voyages Mctallurgitjues, par Jars. 3 vol. 4'.o.

Atlas, ct Dcscrijilion Mineral, dc la France, par Guettard.

i)tatisti(/ue de la France, par Feuchet. 1807.

Analyse des Proces Verbaux des Conecils Generaux des
Defiartemcna, pour I'an 8.

£)e la Balance du Commerce, iJfc. de la France, par M.
Arnould. 2 vol. 1791.

Du Commerce Franjais, dana I'ElaC actucl de I'EurofiCf
par J. B. Dubois. 1806.

De I' Administration des Finances de la France, par M.
Neckar. 3 vol. 8vo. 1784.

Memoircs sur I' Agriculture du Boulonnois, 1785.

L'Agricultcur du Midi, par A. L. Sinelz.. 2 vol. 1803.

Theatre d' Agriculture, par Ollivier dc Serres, reprinted
1802.

Instructions sur la Culture des 'Purne/is, ou gros navets,
jiar les Intendaiis dc Soissons, tS'c. 1786.

Instruction sur lea moyena de Pourvoir a la dinette des
"■•urrages.

:u/i/ilemcnt a I' Instruction, (Jfc. 1785.

Memoires d' Agriculture, publics par la Hociete Royale
d' Agriculture de Paris, 1761, cs'c.

Memoire sur le Mais, par Parmentier.

Statistical View of France, by Tinseau, I SOS and 1805.

Travels in France, by A. Young.

Travels through several of the Midland and Western
Departments of France in 1802, by the Rev. \V. Hughes.

jXarrative of a three years residence in France, from
1802 to 1805, by Anne Plumptree.

Travels through the South of France in 1807 and 1808,
by Lieut. Col. Pinckney.

Kotes on a Journey through France in 1814, by M. Birk-
beck.

Letter on the Genius and Disposition of the French Go-
vernment, by an Ameiican (Mr Walsh) IS 10.

Sketches of the intrinsic Strength, cs'c. of France and
Russia. Hague, 1803. (w. s.)

FK ANCM

415

INDEX.

Ablifvillc, mnnufUclure of fine
cloth at, p. 426

Ajrritultuve of France. 405. Va-
lue of llif in-oriuec of, 438

Aix, miiieiiil waters of, 402

Ai\-laCliHiH-lit* treaty of, 3.^1

Aleiicnn, Dulif of, puts Iiimself at
lilt' heafl of till- inaicoiitents,
297, Unites with the Protcst-
aiu:i,il>.

Ahamitls, trade of, 420

Alpi, ii.ountainsof the. 389

Alsaeu. its divisious, o87-

AinbuisiM'Oiupii'acyof, 384

Amiens, p'-nce of, 354

Anjou, its division, 387

Amie of Austria, her unpopulari-
ty ill France, 315

Antimony mine, 400

Antonie, battle of St, 316

Ardennes, forest of 419

Ai-qiies. hiiltleof. 299

Artesian wells 390

Ariois, its divisions, 316

Auffsburf?, leapiic of, formed a-
gainst Louis XIV, 323

Austerlitz, battle of, SS^

Austria prepares fur war againU
France in 1808, 362. State of
her armies, ib.

Austrians invade France, 3^0.
Defeated by the French at
Raab, 370. Desert Bonaparte,
368

Auvergne, its diviiion. 3R7, Ba-
saltic mountains of, 397

Avignon, its divisions, 388

Badajos taken by the British. 3f^5

Bagiieres, mineral waters ot, 402

Bank of France, 441

Bareges, mineral waters of, 403

Barley, cultivation of, 410

Barometer, state of tlie, in
France, 395

Basaltic district of Auvergne,
397

Bastile destroyed, 341

Bayard, the Chevalier, his cou-
rage, 275 ; and death. 277

Beam, cultivation of. 410

Beam, its divisions, 388

Beech oil, 420

BfU'-iNle's, Marshal, famous re-
treat from Prague, 329

Brrlin entered by Bonaparte, 3fi0

Bellies, Frent-h. abundant iii the
south of France, 414

Berry, it"; divisions, 387

iieZ'i. Theoitore. disputes with
Cardinal Lorraine at Paissi,
203

B ion, M.irshal, ti-fachcrous to
the King, 304. Diseuvered and
paidoned. ili. Ke^umes his
ambitious prqiecls, ib, f.nters
into a cojifpiraey, ib. Deliv-
ers himstlf up to Henry, ib.
Condemned and executed, ib.

Bismutli found in Brittapy, &c.

401.
Bonaparte appointed to the com-
mand in Italy, 350. His great
successes, 351. Defeats the
Amtrinns at Rivoli. ib. Com-
pels ihe Pope to sign a peace,
ib. Obliges the Ausirinns to
niaUe i!ie peace of Cam)m For-
mio, 352. Returns from Eyypt,
nnd is declared First Consul,
353. Proposes peace to Britain,
which is rejected, ib. His ex-
traordinary pus-age of (he Alps,
35-1. Defe;iis the Ausirians at
Marengo, ib. Grants them an
svmistice, ib. EMent of h s
power. 355. Ue-e!.tabltslies the
Catholic religion, and con-
cludes a concordat with the
Pope. 354. Appuuited Consul
for life, 355. Declared Enip.e-
rop. ib. Thii vote for this car-
ried by acclamntion in the tii-
hunaie, ib. Commences lios-
tdltiesagainst Germany in 1S05,
.^59. Captures the Austrian
army under Mack, iind deieats
the combined armies of Austria
and Russia at Austerlitz, ib.
Makes the treaty (.f Presbuvff
with Austria, lb. Is recognised
asKingcif Italy, ib. Defeats
the Prussians at Jena, 360. En-
lei-s Berlin, ib. Defeat? the
Russians at PuUusk, ib. Fi^^bte

an indecisive battle wi(h tlicm
at Kylau, ib. His operations
aganist Sweden, 3(>1. Defeats
the Russians at Friedland. ib.
Concludes the peace of Tiltit
Willi Utissia, ib. Prepares for
the invasion of Port igal, ib.
His schemes against Spain, ib.
His operations there, ib. I*re-
pares for uar wilh Austria, 362.
Holds a conference with the
Emperor of Russia at Erturth,
ib. His «inbitions and r(igian-
dizlng measures in dillt^rent
parts of ICurope, ib. Enterii
Vienna, ib. Fifihts the inde-
cisive battle of Aspern, ib.
Defeats the Archduke Charles
at Wagram. 363. Makes peace
wilh Austria, ib. His speech
to the legislature, ib. Divorces
Josephine, and marries Maria
Louisa, ib. Kis despotic decrees,
36J. Has a son born to him,
ib. His measures in Holland,
ib. Disputes wilh the Ein[)eror
of Russia, ib. Prepares for
war with Russia, 366. Crosses
the Niemen, ib. Enters Wdna,
ib. Fights tlie indecisive bat-
tles of Smolensk and Bi)ro£lino,
367. Enters Moscow, ib. Dread-
ful situation of his aimj, ib.
He leaves Moscow, ib. H:s dis-
astrous retreat, ib. Quits his
army, 368. Plot at Paris a-
gainst him. ib. Deserted by
tlte Prussians and Ausirians, ib.
Prepares for another cam-
paign, 369. Defeated at Lut-
zen, ib. Defeats the allies at
Bautzen, ib. Sustains a terri-
ble defeat at Leipsie, 70. Ar-
rives in Paiis, ib. Tries in
vain to roiiie the French peo-
ple, ib. State of his affairs in
Spain, ib. Leaves Paris to
join his army, 372. Is deflated
at La Rotlierie, ib. His des-
perate lUt.icks on Blucher, 373.
Attacks Bluchrrat Laonunsuc-
cessf'ullj', ib. 1 hrows Iniiisi If in-
to the lear of the allies, 374. Is
deposed by the senate,375. Re-
nounces the sovereignty, 376.
Departs for R\h% ib. Causej: of
his downf tl, 377. Escapes fi om
Elba, and lands in France,
3S0. His piogress, 381. Ar-
rives at Paris, ib. His Address-
es to the nation and the army,
ib. Hiblettir to the sovereigtis
of Europe, ib. Promises (he
French a free conslitiilioii. ib.
His inadequ:iieforees, ib. Joins
his army, 382. Defeats ihe
Prussians at Ligoy, 383, De-
feated by the Duke of Wel-
lington at Waterloo, ib. Flies
to Paris, and abdicates the
throne, ib. Is sent into perpe-
tual banishment in bi Hele-
na. 334.
Boniface VIII. Pope, interdicts

Philip IV. 267
Bon mot of Triboulet, the fool

at Francis's court, 279
Bordclais, cultivation of the vine

in the, 423
Boro lino, battle of, 367
Botany of France. 403
Botero, Oiiivflnni, his account of
France in the loth tentury,
426
Bouillon, Duke of jo'ns in the
conspiracy of the Marslial Bi-
ron, 3C4. Is repeatedly par-
doned by the king, ib.
Boulogne purchased from tlie

English, 232
Bourbon, the Constable, con-
spires against Francis I. 277.
Lays siege to Marseilles, ib.
Marches .Tgainst Home, 278.
Succeeds, but is kllltd in the
attack, ib.
Boiirbmniois, ilj divisions, 387.'
Bourd M'.x declares for tUe

Bourbons, 374
Bmiidies, quality, &c. of tiie,

424
Breda, peace of, 3i8
Briare, catial of 391
Bi'issot executed 348
Bri^sotincs, the, 3'l6
Britain attempts to make peace

with France, 359
BritCiuy, its division", 387. Li>
iicp- nianufiiciuves of, 430

Brnnswiclc, Duke of, Ins muni-

i\ slo, 34S
BulbiferouH plants, 403
Burgundy and Orleans, Dukes of,

quarrel. 270
Burgundy, its divisions, 387.

Wines of, 424

Cabbages, cultivation of, 411
Cadeau. Nicolds, a great roanu-

fac'urer, 426
Calais besieged by the Duke of

Guise, 287. Reduces it, ib.

Calonne at the head of the fi-
nances in Frauc<'. 337.
Proposes to assemble the
Notables, ib. His plan tor
re-eslablishing the finan-
ces, 338. Resigns, lb.

Calvinism, progressotiin France,

237, 2S8

Calvinisis send a petition to tlie
king, 290

Camargue famous for feeding
oxen and sheep, 417

Cnmbray, league of, 273

Campo Formio, ti-eaty of 352

Canals or Fr.ance, 391. Of Lan-
guedoc, ib. Of Briare, ib.
Of Orleans, ib.

Caper shrtib, the 420

Capillaire abundant near Mont-
pellier. 414

Cap'.tainries explained, 406

Capital of the farmers, -i07

Carcassonne, woollen manufac-
ture at. 429

Carlovingian race, 263

Carnot speaks against the decree
of the tribunate irtaking
Bonaparte Emperor, 355

Carraw ay, euUivalion of. 413

Catharine de Medicis, her char-
acter, 288. Hpv conduct
during the minority of
Charles IX. 292. Tt les to
unite the Protestants on
her side ag:iinst tlie Duke
of Guise, 293. Intrigues
witli the King against the
Protestants. 294

Catholic religion re-established iu
France, 354

Caves, 402

Cerignoles, battle of 273

Cerizole?, battle of, 2^0

Cevejines, i-evolt of the Protes-
tants in the, 316. Moun-
tains of, 389. Fertilized by
irrigition. 415

Chalk district of Fiance, 393

ChaniOies Atc'm'eSy courts for

persecuting the Protes-

t.tnts, 239

Champrigiie, its flivisions, 38d.

Wines 422. Clasufied,423.

Champ de Mai, assembly of the,

Charlemagne, reign of, 265

Charles the Bald's reign, 264

Charles the Fat disgraces himself,
and is deposed, ib.

Charles the Sinijile deposed, and
dies in prison, ib.

Charles. II. of Engliind obliged liy
the Pariiumeiu to nmke
peace with Holland, 319

Charles IV. of France succeeds
to the throne, 263

Charles V. of France succeeds
hisfather John, 269

Charles V. of Spain a competitor
for the Imperial dignify,
276. Obtains it. ib. En-
deavours to g;tin fiom his
prisoner Francis I. by in-
trigui . w hat he might have
taken by force, 278, Re-
lease s him on certain con-
ditiiuis, lb. Has rt-cQurse
to arms to enforce «n h":iu
the treaty of Madrid, ib.
lnv:ules France unsuccess-
fully. 279. Agre' s to cede
the' Milanese to Francis,
but breaks his pro";ise, ib.
Attacked by Francis and
llie Protestant Confeder-
ates, 2S3. Prepares to re-
cover Lorraine, ib. Be-
sieges Metz, ib. Oblig..d
to raise the siege, 234.
Sustains great loss m th it
nffiiir, ib. Invndes Fraiu-e,
ib. RJtikes a iiueewitU tbe
King of Fiiinte, ib. A-
buudons bis throne, 28j

Charles vr. of France jiicceedi
his ruber, ^f>9

Charles Vll. of France crowned,
270

Charles VIII. of France suc-
ceeds to Louis XL 271. In-
vades Iluly, 272. Death
and 'jharHctei*, ib.

Charles IX. of Ffance asccndi
the throne of France, 292.
His person jifized, ib, His
characifr, 294. Enters in-
to a treaty wiili the Pro-
testants in 1570, ^95. In-
trigues with Catherine a-
gainsi the Pioiestanis, ib.
Hiscriifky ut the ni-issa-
cre of St. Bartholomew, ib.
Makes a new treaty with
the Protestants, 296. His
death and ch-iractt-r, ib.

Charlotte de Moutmoreney be-
loved by Henry IV, 304.
Married at the King's tie-
sire to the Prince of Cond^,
ib.

Chastel, John. attempts the life of
Henry IV. 301

Chateau Cambresis, treaty of 2S7

Chatillon, congress at, 278. Rup.
ture of the uegociations
there, ib.

Chesnuts abundant. 420

China ware, manufacture of, 431

Christianity renounced in the^
National Convention of
France, 343

Cider, manufacture of, 424

Cinq Mars and De Tiiou execut-
ed for a conspiracy, 313

Circulating mediuui ot France,

442.

Civic oath taken by tlie King,
military, &c. 34 ?

Civil war in France. 270. The
first, 292. Tlie second,
293, The third, 294, The
fourth, 296

Clement, JumEs, assassinates
Hemy III. 298

Clevcs and Juliers, competition
for the Duchies of, 305

Climate of France. 394. Its dis-
advantages in the south,
ib. Its division into four
zones, 395

Clover, cultivation of, 412

Clovis, reign of, 263

Coal strata in Provence, 400.
O'her coal mines. -iOl.
llieir state in 1798, ib.

Cobalt found in the mines of
Alsace, 400

Cod fishery, 436

Coinage of France, 443

Colbert, death of. 322

Coligny's. the Admiral, brave de-
fence of St Quintin, 286.
His ihai-acter, 289. Pre-
sents a petition from
the Calvinists to the King,
29!. Plot against him and
the Prince of Cond^, from
whicli they escape, 201.
Invests Poictiers. ib. F.ghts
tlie battle of MonEcoMCotir,
and is defeated, ib. Massa-
cred on St. B.iriholumew's

d:ty 295

Commerce between France nnd
Spain, 432. With Portu-
gal, ib. Italy. i33. Eng-
l;nul, ib. Holland, ib. Ger-
many, i^c- ib. Denmark,
,V:c. 434. America, ib. 'ihe
Levant nnd Baibary. ib.
India and China, ib. West
of Africa, 435. West In-
dies mid North America, ib.

Companies, Fr.nice delivered
fion them by the policy of
Charles V. 269

Conde, Prince of. his charactev,
280. Suspected and bated
by the court, ib. O.Ters to
vindii-ate his honour by
single combat, 290. Ac-
cused of treason by iJie
Duke of Ciuisc,»nd Caitii-
nalofLoiraine, 291- Tried
»ind condemned, ib. Savi d
by the death of Francis, ili-
Asks saiisfuction for the
massacre of Vies y, 29^-
Begins the c'^vil war, ib.
Defeated and taken prison-
er at DrniN. 20JL Enters
into treaty « ith tlie court,
ib. Aniicipates U:e IiostlW

projccu of the court, and

has rtco';r,!_* to Sinn, ib.
AtiaLktdby the Constable
MorunioreiiL-y at St Denis,
ii:id defeated, ib, PrOie-
cntes the war vigorously,
and agrees to -a iuspcniioa
uf hostilities, 294. A plot
again»t Inm and Collgny,
from which they escape,
ib. Active in preparing for
war. ib. Taken prisoner,
and kdledinculd blood at
Jarnau, 295
Cond^', the young Prince of,
breaks out into open rebel-
lion, 307. Allows himself
to be dupfd. is arrested,
and tlimwn into tlie Bas-
tile, ib.
Cond^- Hie Great. Duke of Kng-
hein, defeats the Spaniarcls
at Uocroy. 314. Deliats
the Bavarians at Kordlin-
gen, ib. F.xcitps (he jea-
lousy of Cardiniil Maza-
rine, ib. Obliged to itiiie
the siege of LeriJa. 315,
Arrested. 316. Defeats Tu-
renne at St. Antoinc, ib.
Condemned to lose his
head, ib. Afterwaids par-
doned and employed by
Louis XIV. 317. His ope-
rations in Flanders, 320,
Lays waste the Palatinate,
ib.

Conference between the Catlio-
lies and Calvinists at Pais-
si, 292

Conspiracy of Amboise, 250

Constituent Assembly meets, 344,
Surrounded by the mob,
345

Copper mines, 400

Coral fishery of Marseilles, 437,

Corsica annexed to France, 333.
Its division''. 388

Corvecs, a tax oppressive to agi'i-
cuk'n-e, 403

Ccte rati, wine called, 424

Cotton mruuifaetures, seat, &c,
of ihe,430

Council of Trent, 233

Court of France extremely de-
bauched in the reign of
Charles VI. 270

Cows of Normandy celebrated
formilk,418

Ci-e?py, treaty of 230

Crops, rotation of, 409

Crusade, engnged in by Louis
VII. 266

D'Ancre, Marquis of. killett 303

D'Ancre, Marchioness, eondemn-
ed for sorcery, 308

Dantzic surrenders to the
French, 360

Daiipliinj , its divisions, 38?

De 'I hou and Cinq Msrsexecuted
fur a conspiracy, 313

Directory. Executive, establish-
ed, 349

Diiectoiy, the, declare war a-
gainst Germany. 3 J2. Sinks
into contenipt, 353

Dovia, Adiiiir.il, ungralefully
treated by Francis I. 278.
Resents it, ib. Deliver*
Cii-noa ib.

Draix, batileof, 293

Duniourier deserts to the Aus-
trians. 347

Dunkirk suiTenders to Louik
XIV. 317

Enrtliinnd s'ones, 399
Ecclesiastical state of France.

441

Edi'ct of Nantes, vevoeation of
the. 322

Euwaitl UL of England claims
(he throne of Frwiiee, 263.

Emigrants, debate on the pro-
pei-ty of the, 379

English lose most of their pos-
sessions in France, 269,
E> pelltd from France, 270.
Ai!vance v.'iihin eleven
liiigiies of Paris, but are
(hivuii o'lt of France, 376

Etternon. l>uke of, enters into a
p ot with Marj de .Medicis,
30&

44-6

FRANCE.

Kifuilh, conference at, .^61

£ Qfijf J, ill Tiovencc and Upiief

Lhii|;;ii< due, J90.
Execntive Uiri-ilury established,

FAiirirtHtions of France, 435
Eylau, haiileuf, 3()0

F«iri of France, 436

Funns, sixe of, 407

Fcnlinaiul M' S|>aiM, hit itlitlio-
nourable conduct lu ilie
French, 273

Fei'din»nd ol'Arragon dies, 275.
Is succeeded by Charles V.
ib.

Flf^ of Provence, 421

Fi'.tieries of France, 436

FluwtTs. coinpound, 403

Flanders, French, extent of, 38'>

Flax, ciilfivinion of, 413

Fleurus. bnitltof, 333

Foix, iis divisions. 388

Fontatnebk-au, (^••neral asiembly
ai, 2<)0. Forest of, 120

Forces, land, stattmenl of, 443.
naval, ib.

Forests, numerous and extensive,
420. National, lb.

Fornova, battle of, 272

France and England, quarretij
betvsetn, 205. Invaded by
Edward III. of England,
268. Invaded by Henry V.
of Eiidand, 270. Confe-
derated against by rhe Spa-
niai-ds, Swiss, and Vene-
tians. 274. Threatened by
a confeJeracy ofthe Pope,
the Emperor, the Swiss,
the English, and the S]>a-
niards, ib. Stoi)page orilie
natiunal bank of, 372. In-
vaded by Charles V. 279.
Exhausted state of, at the
peace of Vervins, 302, 'I'he
States- Genera I of, assem-
ble 507. Afflicted wfth fa-
mine. 323. Invaded by the
Austrians, 330. Her finan-
cial distress, 333. State of,
at the accession of Louis
XVI. 334. Favom-s the Re-
volution in America, ib.
Interferes in the affairs of
Geneva, 335. Her financial
embarrassments, 336. In-
terferes in the atf\iirs of
Itoliand, ib. Alliance Ik-
tween the two countnes,
337. Commercial treaty
with England, ib. Oiscon-
lenis HI. ib. Emigration
from, al the commence-
ment of the Uevolution,
341. Cummotions in dif-
ferent parts of, ib. Hos-
tile preparations against
her, 343. Declares war a-
gainst the Kine; of Hunga-
ry and Bohemia, 345. In-
vaded by Prussia and Aus-
tria, ib. Their progress,
346. Obliged to retreat, ib.
At war with alnioit all
Eui-ope, 347. Success of
htr enemies, ib. Tliry are
at lengUi unsuccessful, ib.
Civil war in, ib. Drives out
ilie allies in every direc-
tion. 349. Invades the Uii t-
ed Provinces, ib. Causes
of the establishment of mi.
Vitary despotism, 358. War
between her and Prussia
in 1806, 360, Its bounda-
lies, 384. Extent, ib. Its
pHtgressive geogniphy, 385.
Its divisions in the time of
the Franks, 386. ; before
tlie Revolution and since,
ib. Its military divisions,
383. Its general aspect, ib.
Its nioumains, 389. Its
rivers, ib. Its sea-coast,
391. Its lajah, ib. Its
8oil,3'?2. Its loam district,
ib. Its heath district, ib.
Its clinlk district, 393. Its
gravel district, ib. Its stony
soil ilisLrici, ib. Its various
soil di^tiict, ib. Its ntoun-
tainoiis di<>lrict, ib. Its
quantities of the different
•■orts, lb. Its climaie, 3o i; in
the north and ntiildle,ib;ind
sonlh ib. The tem;Kiattirt;,
'i05. State of tlie|barometer,
ib. VVindj lib. Rain, ib. Its
natuml b-story. 196, Mi-
nenilogy and geology, rb.
Strata in dift'ereut parts of,

3Qft. XiB metallic veins and
ore«, ib. Its e'-nths and
stuni-s, 390. lt\ miuiS, ib.
lis ci':il. 100. Us mineral
waters. 402. Its natural
cuitu.-iiliey. ib- It^ huiuny,
403. Its 2ool(tg>', 404. Its
Hgriciihure 405. i 18 horses,
&c. 417. Woods and for-
ests, 419. lu wi'i*-«, 422.
It! horilcultute, 424. Its
manufactures, 425. Effects
of the Revciluiion ontliise,
43 1 . ItK t oiiiinerce, 432.
Its shipping. 435. Its coast-
ing and inland trade, 436.
Its fairif, ib. Its Hsheriei*
ib. Tabular view of the
value of its agricultural,
manufacturing, &c. pro-
duce, 438. ItK population,
ib. Births, marriages, and
deaths, 439. Condition of
its people, 440. Prices of
labour 111, ib. Srate of the
poor, ib. Fuel, food, dress,
and totiaf'i-s, 441. Its ec-
clesiattical state, ib. Its
taxes, ib. Revenue and
expenditure, 442. Circu-
lating medium, ib. Rank
ol' France, ill. (Public
funds, 443. Land forces, ib.
Navai force, ib. Weights
atid measures, ib. Coins,
ii>. Language, ib. Cha-
r.U'ter of the people, 44 ).
Its states in 1812 and 1814
c(tnlrasted, 376. Diseon-
tenl«i in, 380. Insurrections
in, against Bonaparte, ib.
Its alarming state, 384.
FrancUe Compte, its divisions,
387

Francis I. ascends the throne, 275.
Prepares to invade Italy, ib.
Attcnipts to rescue Navarre
from Spain, but fails, ib. Gains
the battle of Marignano, ib.
Takes Milan, ib. Retnnis to
Lvuns, ib. Makes a treaty with
Cliarles V. ib. Aspires to the
imperial dignity, 276. Loses
it, lb. Neaily killed by atoicb,
ib. Invades the Low Countries,
ib. Loses all his Italian domi-
nions, ib. Reiolvts to march
into tlie Milanese, ib. His plan
delayed by a conspirncy, ib.
Sends an army under the com-
mand of Bonnivet, who partly
3ucceeds,but isat K ngth obliged
to retire, 277. Again invades
Italy, ib. Loses Uie battle of
Pavia,and U taken prisuner, ib.
Treatment by Cliarles 278.
Recovers his liberty on certain
conditions, ib. Language and
conduct on re-entering France,
ib. Evades the conditions of
his release,ib. His troops invade
Italy successfully, ib. Loses his
advantages by misconduct, ib.
Devutes some time to the inter-
nal regulation of hi^t kingdom,
ib. Bi-eaks the treaty ot Cam-
bray, 279. Obliged to depend
on his own resources, ib. Con-
ilucts himself with great pru-
dence, \\i. Summons the em-
peror to appear before the par-
liament of Paris, ib. >Like$ a
truce with Charles, ib. Makes
Avar on him, 280. His attairs
desperate, ib. Attempts to re-
cover Boulogne from tlie Eng-
lish, ib. His death, and charac-
ter, 281

Francis II. ascends the throne,
288. His deatli, and character,
291

Franks, account of the, 262

French, under Louis XIL invade
Italy, 273. Invade the Roman
territories, 274. Defeat ih- Spa-
niaitls, Swiss, and Venetians, at
Ravenna, ib.

French ambassadors assassinated
by the Milanese, 280. Ihe
Fi-ench defeated at St Quintin,
236. Consternation among
them in consequence, ib. Ar-
mies under Hoche and Piche-
gru defeat the allies, 348. Re-
piiblitans.thei. conduct to the
Italians, 352. To the Swss, ib.
To the Neaptiliians, ib. 'llieir
love of national glory, 357.
Causes of their miliiarj success
at the Rfvoiutinn. ib. French
empire, extent of the, m l.'^ob,
359. Populal>on of, afier the
annexation of Holland, 363. lis
ftiithijr enlargement, 364. De-

feated by the ullies at Lune-
burg, 368; and at Juterbock,
369. Hatred exciic-d by their
tyranny. 377. Dcli;ated ut Wa-
terloo. 383

Friedland. battle of, 301

J-'ropfft\ the, 316

Fundtt, public, 443

Gardette, gold mine at, 399

Garonne, the river. 390

Gascony. rotation of crops in, 409

GaatO' de Foix, a celebrated
French general. 274

Gaul, ancient, ikettli of, 202. Iti
extent. 385

Genoa revolts from the French,
27... Expels the French troops,
276. Deliter<'d by Ad' :iral Do-
ria, 276. Defi-noed by Masse-
lia, sunenders to the allies, 354

General Assembly at Fontaine-
bleaii. 290

Geneva, France inlerfti-es in her
affairs. 335

Geology ofthe Pyrenees, 397

Ghiariada, battle ol, 274

Giromlisl.'t, the, 347

Glai>s manufactory of St. Gobin's,
427

Goheline's tapestry, manufacture
ofthe, 427

Gold mine at Gardette, 399

Grain, produce of, 410

Grand Alliance aguuist Louis
XlV. 324

Cranti design enteruined by Hen-
ry IV. 305

Gravel districtof France, 393

Gravelines, battle of, 237

Guienne, its ilivisions, a87

Guise, Duke ol, defends Mentz,
283. His humane conduct, 284.
His character, 288. His servants
massacre tlie Proiestantj at Vi-
essy, 292. Defeats the Prince
of Conde at Draix, 293. As-
sassinated, ib. Directs (he mas-
sacre of St Baribolonicw. 295.
Takes the field in 1584 against
the Protestants, 297. Invested
with Uie supreme power, ib.
Quarrels with the king, ib. Is
reconciled to him. ib. Quarrels
again, 298. Is assassint.ted at
the instance ofthe king, ib.

Guienne, rei>ellion in, 281

Gypsum quarr) of Montmartre,
397

Hailstones in France, 395
Harvest, time, &c. of, 414
Hats, manufacture of,'J30
Hay, management of, 417
Heahh district of France, 392.

Rotation of crops, in the, 409
Helena, St, Bonaparte banished

to, 384
Hemp, cultivation of, 413
Henry I. ascends the throne, 265
Heni7' IF. succeeds to Francis L
281. Recalls the Constable
Montmorency, ib. Burns some
Protestants, 282. Purchases
Boulogne from the English, ib.
Prepares for war wiili Ch:irles
V. ib. Sends an army into Ita-
ly, ib. Concludes a triaty with
the Protestant confeileration,
283. Invades Lorraine, and
seizes Toul, Verdun, and
Metz, ib. Forgotten by tJie
confederates in the treaty of
Pass9u,ib. Invades the Neiher-
lands, 284. His troops obliged
to retreat, ib. Is unfortunate
in Italy, ib. More successful
in P.edmont, 285. Makes a
truce with Charles, ib. Breaks
it, and renews his league wiih
the Pope, ib. His army enters
Italy, ib. Makes a treaty with
Elizabeihof E igland, 287. His
death, and clniracter, 288.
Henry 111. ascends the thione,
296. His character, ib. Paci-
fies the Protestants, and con-
cludes a treaty with them. 297.
He disgusts the Catholics, ib.
Joins the Leag-e against the
Protestants, ib, Helil up by the
procl;ini3)ions ofthe Liagueas
debiuchfd and lurciical. ib.
Conchides a peace on the iiio>l
diihoiioiirable terms, ib. At-
temi.isagainsi bun by the Duke
of Guise, ib. Quarrels with tlie
Duke, ib. Retires lo Charires,
and appeals lu bis people, ib.
l4 reconciled to the Duke, ib.

Quarrels with him again, 20R
Assembles the stat<-«, ib, I'r<v
euro the a1l^assill^tiun ol the
Duku, ib. U ihcieby sui^jeLi' d
to Ihc resentment and hbhor-
retice ol'hit subjects, ib. En-
ter* intoacunftderac)' wiih the
Prutesiaiitsand ih< king of Na-
varre, ib. Asseiriblea a large
Bfniy,unit marchc'i to Pario.io.
Isavtassinated by a Donitiiican
frijr, ib.
Henry IV. his birth and educa
tion, 298. Make* warwiih the
League, ih. RepoUe* the Duke
of Mayence at Atqii> s. ib.
Marches for Paris, ib. Gains
tilt battle of Ivri, ib. Bloc-
kades Paris, ib His humaniiy
to the people, 300. I* forced
to raite the blockade, ib. De-
feated in a lecoii't attempt to
take Paris, ib Is dec I red a
heretic by the Pope, ib. His
coolness and foriiiude in the
midst ofdifficiiliies ib. Beiieges
Rouen, ib. Fi. reed to raise the
siege, ib Resolves to renounce
the Protestant rel gion, ib. His
conduct doe-, not sali^fy the
Catholics, ib Acknowledged
by Meaux, and several other
cities, 301. Is crowned at Char-
tres, ib His life attempted, ib.
Defeats tlie Duke of Mayence,
ib. Absolved by the PojMe, ib.
His trouble and diHiculties, ib.
Makes peace with Spain, 302.
'Passes the famous edict of
Nantes, ib. Endeavours to im-
prove the kingdom, ib. Takes
into office tlie Marquis of Ros-
ny. whom lit cri-ates Dt^ke of
Sully, ib. Patronises manufac*
tures,303. Unhappy in domes-
ticiife ib. Indulges in amours,
ib. Proposes to i\iise his mis-
tress Gaurielle D'Estr^csto the
throne, ib. Is opposed by tbe
Pope, in. Proposes marri;'ge to
his mistress Hennetie Balzac,
and is prevent d by Sully, ib,
Obta<n» divorce from his Queen,
ib. Marries Mary de Midicis,
ib. Re urns to his amours, ib.
Betrayed by Marshal Biri<n^04.
His lenient treatment of him,
ib. At length obtig"' to give him
upto tria-.ib Advances against
the Duke of Bouillon, ib. Par-
dor>s him, ib. Disagi-ees with
tJie Queen, ib. His dishonoura-
ble attachment to Charlotte de
Moncmoiviicy. ih. Causes her
to be n.arried to the Prince of
Cond^. ib. Unworthy conduct
in tliisaffair.ib. Takesuparms
against Austria, 305. His^rond
(leugn^ ib. Makes great pre-
parations, ib. Is assassinated
when preparing tojoinhisar-
my, ib. His character. 306,
Henry of Navarre marries the
sister of Charles IX. 295. Ab-
jures the Protestant i-eligion, ib.
Henry VIII. of England declares
*ar against Francis I. and in-
vades Picardy, 276
Herring fi 'hery, 436
Hohenhndr n, bat'le of, 354
Holland invaded by Louis XIV.
319 Its weak and divided
st:!te at the time. ib. Saved
by I he Prince of Orangr. ib.
Supported by the Emperor
:ind Spain, lb. Subdued by
France. 320, Louis Bona-
parte mride king of 359.
Annexed to France. 363
Holy League, formed bv Julius

H. 27.;
Honey of Narbonne. celebrated,

419
Hops, cultivation of, 414
Horses, breed, &c. of 417
Horticulture, French, aicount of,

424
Hugh Capet seizes the crown, 264

Imperialistsdefeated atHochstet,

325
Implements ot husbandry, 409
Imports of Fiance. 435
Inclo'ores, state of 408
Iron mines, 400
Irrigation extensively employed,

415
lile of Irai'Ce, its divisions. 386
Italy invaded hy Louis XIII. 311
Ivri,battkot,J99
Jacobin party, its rise, 342. Their

power esiabjjshed, 345

Jacques, Cceur, hii exc-rtiona as a

inanutatturer,425
Jariiut, biitile ..I, 224
JeuiHppe.but'k'of, 346
JeiiA. battb oi; 360
Jet hfund in Mvera! departments,

40 J
J<-wellery, manufacture of, 431
Jew* liaiiinhed during the reign of

Philip V. A,H
John, F.tdeti ion uf Philip do Va-

lois, ftuccec-d'.268
Julius 11, atten-pis lo expelevery

foreign power irOMi Italy,

273. Is drfeated by the

Frtnch 2T4
Juterbock, battle of, 369

Knighu Templars persecuted, 2«7
L

L- brun, pieces of, 440

Laces nianufacturr uf, 430

La Craii, account of the plain of,
402. Iriigation in, 415

Landed property, its state before
the Revolution, 405. How
aftectir^d bylhat event, 4CK5.
Its distribution, 407

Language, Fr> nch, 444

Lang' edoc, its divisions, 388. Ca-
nal of, 391. Irrigation in,
415

Laon. battle of, 373

I.a Renaudie, tlie author of the
conspiracy ol Anil»oise,290.
Is killed it. attempting to
execute it,ib.

La Rotherie, battle of,372

La \end^-, civil war in. 347

Ltrad mioes, 400

League, origin of the famous,
against the Protestanu, 2:^7

League of Canln-ay, 273

League Hulj. formed, 274

League, the triple, formed against
Louis XlV. 319

Leather, manufactories of^ 430

Leipsic battle of 370

Leo X. dies with joy for the ex-
pulsion ofthe Brenchfrom
the Milawese. 276

Liberty of the press, debate oa
the, 379

Licenes alisnates the affections
of the king from the Italian
fuvour'te^ of Mary de Me-
dii is, 308. Is promoted, ib.
Endeavours to secure po>
polarity, lb.

LIgny, battle of. 382

Limosin, its divisions, 387

Linen manufacture, state, &c. of,
430

Liseux, Bishop of. prevents the
massacre of Protestant*.
295

Lisle, taken by the allies, 326

Loam district of France, 392

Lodi, battle of, 350 '

Loigniac assassinates the Duke of
.Guise, 293

Loire, the river, 389

Lorraine, the Cardinal, his cha-
racter. 288

Lorraine, its divisions, 386

Lntharius. contests of his relen.
263

Louis !e Debonnaire, his reign
and death. 2^{

Louis th' Stranger's reign, 264

Louis the Gross succeeds bis
father. 265

Louis VII. aicends the throne,
265. Embarks in a cru-
sade, ib.

Louis VIII. 266

Louis IX. his chsrncter ib. His
er.pedition to Egypt, ib.
Dies at Tunis, ib.

Louis X. anccctds to the throne,
267

Louis XL succeeds his father,270

Louis XIL succeeds, 272. .Mar-
ries the sist«r ofthe king of
England, 275. His death,
ami character, ib.

Louis XIIL succeeds to the
throne. 307. Listens to the
suggestions of Licenes,
amid smis-ics the favourites
of the regent, 308. His
measures againsi th; PrcK
testants, 309. Offends the
nobility, ib. Makes war on
the Proiesinnts, ib. Be-
sieges Montauban unsuc-
cessfiify. ib. His cruelty to
the Protest:!, t^ at Negi-e-
pelesse.ib. Makes a treaty
w iih the Protestants in

FRANCE.

447

1621, ib. Invades Italr,
311. Reduces Saroj', ib.
His death, -^13. His will
set aside, 314
I.«uis XIV. succeeds. 313. Enters
Dunkirk in triumph. 317.
Resolves lo govci n by liim-
seir.ilj. Civcum stances in
his lavour, ib. Instances
of his hatightiiics'; and nm-
bitioii,JIS. Rtliises to pay
tht' huiiaurs of ihe Ha^ to
Englur d, il). Make* ihe
peucf of Breda, ib. His
employniem dui'ing tlie
peai e, ib. Claitus the iipa*
nish Ntiherbnds, ib. In-
vades them succes&l'ully, ib.
Subdues Franehe C'umpt^,
319. The triple League
ugainsthim, ib> Detaches
England from it, ib. His
rapid success Hgainst Hol-
land ib. B:ifil<d by the
Piince of Orange, and
obiigt^d to recall tiis forces,
ib. Hii operation!) iii Flan-
ders, 320. His uperatious
by sea, .321. Gains die bat-
tle of Mout Capel ib. His
entroaehineiits after ihe
peace ufNimegutu.ib. Be-
sieges ^irasbtii-g, lb. His
violent conduct n\ the Spa-
nish :Netbcrlands, 322. His
attention to liis navy, ib.
Ma(vL:i a Lru< r with Spain
and thtr Eriiperur, ib. In-
sult- ibe Pupe, ib. Leugue
of Augsburg lorniedaginiist
him. 323. He bt gins hos-
tilities, ib. Again lays
waste the Falatmate, ib.
Makes the peact- ufRys-
wick, ib. Cojicludej ilie
partition ireaiy with Wil-
liam of En>^Uwd, 32'!.
Grand alliance against
him, ib. Hh aM'airs despe-
rate, 325. Unsuccessfully
attempts to negotiate, ib.
His astonishing eftbns. 32c.
He aguin oifcrs peace, and
is refused, ib. His circum-
stances bectered, by the
change of the ministry in
England, and the death of
the Eij'peror, ib. jMakes
peace wiih England, Portu*
g;al,Pius3ia, ::>a\oy. and the
United Provinces, 327. His
death, and character, ib.
Louis XV. assumes the govern-
ment of France, 328. In-
vades Flanders, 330. Ob-
stinately Continues the
war, ib. Iinmeuiie prepa-
pamtions against hini,33l.
He is successful in the Low
Countries, ib. His navnl
transactions unfortunate in
1747^ ib. Enters into the
treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle,,
ib. Disputes with his Par-
liament, ib. His ambitious
projects in America and
the East Indies, ib. In-
radea Hanover, ib. Unsuc-
cessful in America, 332.
Assisted by Spain. 333.
Makes the peace of Pans,
ib. Continues his disputes
with the parliaments, ib.
Gives himself tij) to de«
baiichtry, ib. His death,
and character, 334
Louis XVI. succeeds his grand-
fathi-r, 334. State of
FranL-e at his acce.ision,
ib. Fits out » essels for dis-
cover)-, ib. Fa\'iuis Ameri-
ca agaoiit Briiain, 335.
His horr.ane and economi-
cal measures at home, ib.
Disputes between hi. 11 and
the parhament. 337. Dis-
misses the Assembly of the
Notables, 3.'9. Banishes
the Parliument, ib. Re-
calls it, ib. His measures
protested against by the
Duke of Orleans, ib. His
wavering conduct, ib. His
dangerous situation, 342.
Forced to leave Versailles
for Paris. 341. Takes the
civic oath. ib. Attempts to
leave the kingdom, 344. Is
stopped, ib. His attempt
excites great abhurrem-e,
ib. He and his family im-
prisoned. 346. He is tr.ed,
condemned, and executed.

347

Louis XVIH. chosen sovereign of
France, 375. Enters Pa-
ris, 37d. State of France
when lie asceiuU the
throne, 378. His charac-
ter and conduct, ib. Be-
trayed by the Marshall,
380. His measures, ib.
Enters Paris again, and ap
points new ministers, 3ti4
Louisa, regent in the absence of
Francis I. saves Fi-ance,
277
Lucerne, cultivation of, 412
Limeburg, battle of, 368
Lunevdie, treaty of, 354
Lopiiis,cultivation of, 412
Lyonnois, its divisions, 387
Lyons, silk manufactures of, 429

Mack, General, capitulates to

Bonaparte at Ulm,359
Madder, cultivation of, 403
Maid of Orleans appears, 270
Maine, its divisions, 387
Maize, cultivation of, 410
Malcontents, their origin in 1574,

297
Malplaquei, battle of, 326 ,
Man^nese abundant. 400
Manittsto of the Duke of Bruns-
wick, 345
Manufactures of France, liisto-
rical notices respecting the,

425, Patronised by Henry
IV. ib ; and by Colbert,

426, The stale at the
close of the 17th centu.y,
428. Effects of the Revo-
lution ou the, 4U. Value
of the produce of, 438

Manures, system of, 415

Marat stabbed by Charlotte Cor-

d^, 347
Mavehe, its divisions, 387
Marciano, battle of, 284
Marengo, buttle of, 354
Margaret, queen of Henry IV.
h. r character, 303. Divorced
front the King, ib
Marignano, battle of, 275
Marilla, Archbishop of Vienne,
speaks against die errors and
corruptions of the church of
Rome, 290
Maisuilhs. coral fishery of, 437
Mary de Medicis espoused by
Henry IV. 303. Her charac-
ter, 304. Quarrels with the
King, ib. Is crowned. 305.
Made regent, 307. Becomes
the dupe of her Italian favour-
ites, ib. Her plan alaroiing to
the Protestants, ib. Banished
the kingdom. 3I1. Dies m ex-
ile, U3. Her Italian favourites
arrested, 308. Enters into a
jilot with the Duke of Eper-
non, 309.
Mary of England declares war

against Fi-nnce, 286
Massacre of St Bartholomew,
295. Gives joy lo the P>>pe, and
the King of Spain, ib. Occa-
sions a gloom at the court of
England, 296
Massacre of Viessy, 292
Massaiie at Pa.is,346
Massoura, in Egypt, battle of,

266
Matay.1, tcnin-e of. 406
Maurice negociates a confedera-
cy of Protestunts, 282 ; and
gets the King of France to ac-
cede to it. ib. Makes a treaty
wrih Charles at Pasvau,28 5
Maximilian invades the Milanese,

and fails, 275
Mayors of tlie |)alace, 2'33
Mazarine, Canlinal, 313. Occa-
sions a civil war, 315. Dismiss-
ed by the King, 316 Recalled,
ib. Makes a treaty with Croni-
well of England, 317. His
death and character, ib.
Meadow ., account of the, 416
Meaux surreudtrs to Hmry IV-

300
Melas, general, defeats the

French, 353
Mercury funnd at Meneldot, .JOO
Merino sheep first established by

Louis XVI. 413
Metallic i;res and veins, 398
Met?, besieged bv Charles V. and
defended by ' the Duke of
Guise, 2«3, The siege raised,
284
Milan attempted to be recovered
by Francis I. 275 The capital
taken, ib.

Military despotism, causes of its
estal)lishment in France, 358

Military state, 443

Military success ol the French,
cause.s of, 357

Millet, cul ivation of,403

Mineralog} and gi ology of
France. 396

Mineral waters, 402

Mines in France, 99. Account
ofthemin 1814, 401

Mississippi scheme begun, 328

Mojitanlian, siege of .50'J

Mum Capel. battle nl..t21

Montcoiicour, battle of, 294

Mont' leri, battle of 271

Monthic, BiMbop «>! Valence,
speaks against the errors and
corrupt ons of ilie church of
Rome, 290

Montmarire, battle of, 374. Gyp-
sum, quarry of, 397

Montmorency, the Constable, re-
called by Henry U. 281. His
charai ter, 283, Has great in-
fluence with the King, 287.
Killed in the battle of St Denis,
294

Monts d'Or, famous for cream

clii est, lis
Moreau, his celebrated retreat,

351. Defeats the Aostrians at

Hochslet, 354. Is banished for

life 359. Is killed at Dresden,

369
Moscow entered by Bonaparte,

367, Burnt by the Russians,

ib.
Most Christian, this t. tie given by

the Pope to Louis XL 271.
Mountain party, the, 346
Mountainous district of France,

393
Mountains of France, 388
Mulberries, 421
Mules, breed, Sec. of,

Nails, manufacture of, 431

Nantes, edict of passed, 302
Nantes, revocation of the edicttof,

322
Naples subdued by the French,

352
National Assemldy named, 340.
Their bold measures, ib. Their
conduct in the time of tumult,
341. Reform abuses. 342. Their
financial measures, ib. A-
faolish tithes, ib. Discuss and
negative the King's veto, ib.
Suppress here<lilary titles, 343

National Convention assemble,
346

Natui-al history of France, 396

Naval force 443

Navarre invaded by the French,
276 Saved by the rashne'js
of the French general, ib. King
of. his character, 298. Killed,
292

Neckar succeeds Turgot, 333.
His character, 335. Is dismiss-
ed, ib. Recalled, 340. Dis-
missed. 341. Recalled, ib. Re-
signs. 343

Nimeguen. unsuccessful negocia-
tions at, 321. Treaty of, ib.

Nivernois, its divisions, 387

Nordlingen, battle of, 314

Normandy, kingdom of, establish-
ed, 264

Normandy, its divisions, 3SG.
Cows of, celebrated ibr milk,
4 S

Normans, invasion of the, 264

Notables, the, in France, assem-
bled in 1787, 337. Dismissed,
339. Again assembled, ib.

Noyon, treaty at, between Fran-
cis I. and Charles V. 275

Olives, 421

Orange. Prince of. sa^es Holland
from Louis XIV. 3]'_i. Rejects
Louis's proposals, ill. Reduces
N.fai'deii, 320. Refuses the me-
diation of England, ib.

Orange trees, 420

Orcliilia weed found in Auvergne,
413

Orleannois, its divisions. 387

Orleans, ca-ial of, 391

Or!eans,Diike of, i-el)els against
the regent Anne of France,
272

Orleans, Duke of, regent of
France alter the death of Louis
XIV. 328

Orleans, Duke of, protests a-
gainst a cuiumaiid vi' Louis

XVL 359. Encourngcs the rt-

voluiion, 342. Put to death,

348
Orleans, forest of, 419
Orleans, Stales Generals meet at,

292

Orthes, Irattle of, 374

Or bet, \ i&connt, refuses to mas-
sacre the Protestants in Bayou-
ne, 295

Oudenarde, battle of, 326

0\( n generally uied in the
plough, 408. Feeding, &c. of,

417.

Oystcrs,tisheriesof, 437

Paissi, conference of, 292

Palatinate laid waste by the
Fn nch, 320. Laid waste again
by them, 323

Papal forcLs defeated by Francis
L 275

Paper, manufacture of, 430

Papilionaceous plants, 404

Paris, the basin of, 396. Strata
of. ib. Organic remains in, 3y7.
Blockaded by Heiu-y IV. 29'>.
Is relieved bj the Duke ot
Parma, ib. Its dreadful situa-
tion during the ta( liun of the
Sixteen, 300. Meenng of the
states there in 1593, ib. Peace
of, .*33. Influence of, 334. In-
surrectionin,34i. Enteied by
the allies, 375. Suirenders to
the British and Pnissians,384.

Parliamtnt, ch;inge of us eoiisti-
tion in the reign of Philip de
Valois, 268. Oi France banish-
ed b\ Louis XVI, 339. And re-
called, ib.

Parliaments, origin of, 203

Parma, war ot, 282

Pars: ;ips, cultivation of,4 12

Partition treaty, 324

Passau, treat) of, 283

Pastures, account ol the, 416

Paj s d'Aunis, its divisions, 387

Peat 1 arih abundant, 401

People, trench, condition, 440
'I'heir character, 404

Picardj, its divisions, 386

Pilniiz, treaty of, 344

Philip I. succeeds to the crown,

264

Philip IL his reign, 265. Un-
dertakes an exjiedition to the
Holj Land, 266. Prepares to
invade England, ib, war be-
tween him and the empire, ib.

Philip 111. his reign, 267

I'hilip 1\'. his reign, ib.

Philip V, succeeds his brother,
268

Philip II. of Spain invades
France, 286. Loses the ad-
vantiige he obtained by the
victor) at St quimiii, ib. His
reconciliation with the Pope,
287

Plums, 421

Poitou, Its divisions, 387

Poltrot assassinates the DukeJ of
Guise, 293

Poor, slate of the, 442

Population of France, view of the,
440

Posts established in France by
Louis XL 271

Potatoes, cultivation of, 411

Poultry extensively used, 419

Pragmatic sanction, war of the,
328

Prague, siege of, 329

Pi-esburg, treaty o', 359

Property, landed, its state before
the Revolution, 405

Protestaius of Cabueresand Me-
rindol massacred, 281. Iheir
state in Germany, 2?2. In
France, measui*es taken prepa-
ratory to their persecution, 2S9.
Severely persecuted, 290. In-
crease, in spite of opposition,
lb. M-tke a treaty ot peace
Vkith the government, 293,
Have apprehensions of renew-
ed persecution, ib. Defeated
at Jarnac, 294. and at Moi t-
concuur,ib. Fight bravely in
the battle of Jarnac, but are
defeated, ib. Make a favoura-
ble treaty with the govern-
ment, 295. Massacre oi; on St
Banholomew's day. ib. Origin
of the famous league against
the, 297. Hostiiuies between
them and the Catholics in 1581,
ib. Alarmed by the plans of
Mary de Medicis, 307. Finally
reduced, 310. Rousr-d again
by the Duke of Koliau, but

soon crushed, 311, Persecuted
by Louit XIV. 322

Pmv t.c ,its divisions, 388. Coal
strata in,400

Pitissiii, King of, makfs peace
wnh the Na ioiial Convention,
•>50 l>ecla cs war against
France, 3.C9

Priiisians desert Bonaparte, 2f't
Defeated at Ligny, 383

Pultiisk, battle of. 360

Pyrenees, treaty of the, 317.
Mouniaiiitt of tlie, 389. Geolo-
gy of the. .-^97. Rare plants in
the, 404 Rotation of cropi in
the district of the, 409. Irri-
gation in the, 415

Queen of France executed, 341
R

Raab, battle of, 363

Rain in France, 395

Raniilies, battle of,325

Rape, cultivation of, 4I2

Raveuiia, battle of. 274

Rav illiae, Francis, assassinates
Henry IV. 305. Is dread-
fully tortured. 306, And
torn to pieces by the en-
raged multitude, ib.

Religious disjMites in Franccj
Ibe V oi,giii,281

Rent of iHUd. 407

Retz, Cardinal de, his character,

315

Revenue and expemh'ure of the
government, 442

Revolution of France, causes of
the, 355. Character of
its first movers, 357. Ef-
fects of the, on landed pro«
pcrty, 406

Revolutionary Government es-
tablished in France, 348

Rhone, the rivir,390

Richelieu, Cardinal, called into
the French councils, 308.
His 1 igorous conduct, ib.
Projectji of. 309. Aims at
thedcstructioii of the Pro-
testants. 310. Cabals f'lm-
ed against him, wbich he
defeats, ib. Prosecutes tlie
war against the proies-
lants successfully, and fi-
nally reduces ihem, ib. His
plans to humble Austria,

311. His numerous and
active exertions, ib. Biirgs
France into great danger,
ib. Plot to assassinate him,

312. Conspiracy against
him in 1642, 313. His death,
ib.

Ring'nt jilaiUs, 403

Rivers ol France, 389

Kivoli. battle of,351

Roads, siateof,408

Roberspierrc executed, 349

Rochelle makes a tfesperate re-
sistance to the Duke of
Angers, 295. Besieged by
Cardinal Richelieu, ani
ohlged losuirende.', 310

Rocroy, siege and bp.itle of, 3i4.

Hodoljih's vigorous reign, 2t:-4

Uoman territories invaded by the
Fiencb. 273

Rome taken by the army under
tlie Constable de Bourbon,

278,
Rotation of crops, 409
Roiuricrs fnfest Fiance, 265
Rouen, cotton ni:.n factories of,

430
Rousillcn, its divisions, 388
Rouvenis, battle of. 266
Royaltj abolished in France, 346
Russia, the Eruptror of, pre-
pares for war with France,
366 '

Ru«i:ins, their mode of resist-
ing Bonai-arie's forces,
366

Kje, cultivation of, 410
>^y*^^ick, peace of, 323

S-iffron, cultivation of, 414
Sainfoin, cultivation of, 412
St Bartholomew, n.assacTe of
295 Gives joy to the Pope
and the King of Sp. n ib.
Occas'ons gloom at the
roiirt ol England, 296
St Germain en Laye, treatv of
295 J »

St Gobin's,glass manufactory of

448

Si Jimi lie I."7.. I.niilc of, 171
St Quiiuin liM'i ^-l.■^l l>y ihi" Sn»-

niai'ils. iui>- Baltli; ui; lb.

TaKi-li. ill.

sts«iui9i>»ii, r.illor.sn

SMiiitoiigc. its (liviiions. 387

SHluinitnea,l>iiMl(! of. 3o5

Siilit law enlViitmlia >8

tialins, salt Hprings at, 401

Salt, coiniiioii, '102

S:ilt springs al Salins, 401

Saonc.tlif river, 404

SartUni s. lishery of, on the coast

of Brittany, 390
Savoy, Duke of, tnalvta war on
Frjiiice, 303. Unsiil>;>ort-
ed. and obliged to make
peace, 304. Attenipts to
seize MMutiia, and is un-
successful. 307
Sea-coast of France, 391
Sea-salt, 402
Sedan, manufacture of fine cloth

at, 421'
Seine, tiu' river, "89. The tasin

ofIhe,3'Ji)
Sforza surrenders himself to

Frani^isl. 275
Sheep, breed, (kc. of, 418. Emi-
gration of. it).
Shepherds of France, account
of the, 419. Their dogs,
ib.
Shipping, thp, of France al difler-

ent periods, 435
Sicilian Vespers, massacre of

French in, 267
.Siena besitged, 284
bilk manufactures, account ol

the, 429
Silver mines, 400

Smiilcnsl<,lwll1e'>r,.1i'.7

Soil of France, 393. Hivided ul.

to live classes as to feruU-

ty. 110
Spain, ei.uipt litors for Hie throne

of, 324. Attacke<l by Uo-

naparte, 301
Spaniards nivade France, 31.1
Spaniaitls and Frericli enter lulo

the treaty of the I'yrenecs,

317
Sparta grass grows abundantly,

414
Spin-ry. cultivation of, 412
States Genei-.ll asieinbUd, 273

Meet at Orleans, ib. As-

Bi-rabled in 1 789, 340
Steel, manufacture of 431
Stony soil district of France,

393. Kotation ofcropsin,

409

Strasbnrg iKsiegeil and taiun by
Louis XIV. 321

Sumach, cultivation of 414

Suwarrow, his successes against
the French in Ital>.3S3

Sweden,operati<insof ilie French
against, 361. Convention
between tlieni. ib,

Swiss, the. defeated l)y Francis
I. 275. Guard of, mas-
sacred by the mob at Paris,
346

Switzerland, its independence o-
vertlirown by republican
France. 353

Sully, nuke of, his character,
301. Called into office by
Henr>-, ib. His mode of
procedure, ib. Good ef-
fects lesulling fiom it, 302.

Fll.VNCE.

IIi« fiPtfilom with lilt -
Kiiiff. ib. U.:lMvs to Inl
fstai«H (ifler Uii: King*
death. 38^

Tniiestrv, mHn«niPinrc of tlie

(iohi-lincs, 427
Taxes <>I Fr.incc diniintshcd by
L-mis XII. 274. ikfort-tbe
Kcvuhition, 441. Since du.

442
TenseN, cultivation of. 4M

TeiT'iK'ianirc of FtBute. igs

Teniae* of UiuUtl pidiK-rty I>e-
loi-e the Kuvoliuion. 405

Thioi.ville cni.ittilatcs to the
Duke ofOoise, :i87

Threshing, inwle. &c. uf, 41-1

Tilsit, iK-'ni't- of. 3'''l

Tithes abolished by *l'e National
Assembly, -U

Toljacco, cultivaii'tii of, 40':!

Toulousi^, biUlK* 'if. -V4

Toiin-aine, us (livisi"ns. "87

Trade, coasting uml intttod ti-ade
ofFl-.MKe, l3(i

Treaty bntwcen France fl"d
Spam in l. so 3. 27 J

Trent. Council of. 282

Tuberous plants, 403

Tunny fishery, mode, 8:c. of the,
436

Turgot placed nt the head of the
French linxnces, 333. He-
sif;ns. ib.

Turenne flefeated by Cond^ at
St Antoine, 316. His ex-
ploits in Alsace, 330, Hi*
death, ib.

Trimipf, c»rl»irailon of, 411
Tiiiniu), cultivation of, 414
Turpentine iree.420
Turquoises foinnl in the nioun*

uiins of the Ilouergue,

101

Tyroltie fipht obstinately . for

their indeiieude.ite,"(>3
U
Uhn, captuve of (he Austrian

nnny at. 359
Utrecht, peact of, 327

V
Valois, direct line of the house

of, ewd» in Charles VIII,

272
Vaticluse. account of the fuun-

I. in of. 40^
Venice reg-irded with enmity by

iheTope andoilRT state*,

273
l^ent tie Bize, account of the,

304
Vervins, treaty nf.302
Veto of the Kiii^ discHF.seil nnd

negatived in tjie Xaiiona!

Assenibly,3!2
Vienna entend by Gimaparle,

353, Peaci- of. 362
Viessy. massacre of. 292
T/H cu^f^ account of the, 423
yin lie (fff/iw/ (, accouiu of. 123
Vine, culti^fltion of tlie, 121. In

champagne, 422. In the

BortleliMs. Uc. 423
Vinegar, quality, Ike of Uie,424.
Vineyards. 421
Vitn, Marquis of. returns to

his allegiance to Henry IV.

300
Voiges, mountains of the, 3iiD

Wagrftm.Iottle of, 3(J2
Waurh>o.bhlile<**; 383
Was, produce. >^;c. of,4I<)
Wricht* and mi-nvui-c", 4|J
Weld, ciiltiviitioi. of, 4X3
Welliiig'un. L">'1- def.-at* the

French at Sstlmnanca, 365.

CoiniM-lled to quit Madrid,

ib- Kntei-^ Frmce, 372.

Dffi-nts ibe Ftvueh at

Onhes. 374. IVfcaii the
"■ l-rench at Toul(»n«e. ib.

Dcfrats n<mapdrte at Wa-

n-rldO, 381

Weitphiilia, p« ace of, in lfi48,

.515
Whale fishery, 436
Wh. at, cultivation of. 410
W^iiliam of Knirl^'-ii concluJrt

the p:irl'<tion treaty witji

Louis XIV. 121
Windsof Franci . 395
Wiir s, Ch:tnij>3gne, 422
Wines, quanhiies exported atdif-

ft-renl times, 424
Witcpsk, bittles at, 366
'Woad, cultivation of. 413
Woods, nu'uerousand extensive,

-119

WooU produce, quality, Ike. of,
■il'.j

Woollen manufiicture,kinda, con-
dition, i>:c. of the, 428

Zinc found in thi-ee ttatcs,400
Zoology of France, 40-1

FRA

IBA

449

FRANCE, Isle of. See Mauritius.

FRANCHE Comi'te', the name of one of tiie provinces
into which France was tlividccl before the Revolution. It
now forms the departments of Douus, Juua, and Saone.
See FiiANCF..

FRANCIS. See France.

FRANCONIA, a circle in the centre of Germany,
and anciently a part of Thuringia, is situated l)elwcen
48° 45' and 50° 50' North Latitude, and between 9' 20' and
12° lo' East Longitude from Greenwich. It extends in
some places 140 miles from north to south, and between 90
and lis from west to east. It contains 7744 geographical
miles, and l.OOO.noo of inhabitants. It is distributed into
different states or priricipalities, namely, those of ecclesias-
tical princes, of secular princes, and of imperial cities.

I. The states of the ecclesiastical princes are tlie bisho-
prics of Aichstadt, of VVurtzburg, of Bamberg, and the ter-
ritories of the Grand Master of the Teutonic Order.

The bishopric of Aichstadt, or Eichsted, is situated in
the southeast corner of the circle, and is a tolerably fruit-
ful country, watered by the Altmuhl, Aniauter, Schwar-
zacli, Sulz, and Retzat. Its principal towns arc, Aichstadt
(see Aichstadt,) the episcopal residence, about 45 miles
south of Nuremberg, remarkable chiefly for a curious
piece of workmanship in the church, called the sun of the
holy sacrament, made of massy gold, and enriched with the
most precious stones; Nassenfeils, a borough and citadel,
three leagues west of Ingolstadt, and in the south-cast cor-
ner of the country where the ancient Aureatum was situa-
ted; Abcnberg, a small town and castle, where the counts
of the same name formerly had their residence, and near
which is at present a glass foundery for mirrors ; Herree-
den, Ohrnbau, Spalt, and several other small towns.

The bishopric of Wurtzburg, situated towards the west
part of the circle, extends about 90 nules from north to
south, and 50 from west to cast, and contair.s 262,000 inha-
bitants. It is watered by the Maync, the Saal, the Taubcr,
and the Jaxt ; abounds in grain, fruits, and pastures; and
yields the best wine in Franconia. Its principal towns are,
Wurtzburg, a well-built and well-fortified city, containing
a cathedral, an episcopal palace, an university, an observa-
tory, several monasteries and churches, and about 16,000
inhabitants ; Heydinsfield, a little town on the Mayne, sur-
rounded with vineyards; Veits-Hocheim, a small place
about four leagues below the capital, containing a palace of
the bishop; Kissingen, a little town on the Saal, having se-
veral salt springs and medicinal waters in its neighbour-
hood ; Nunnerstadt, a small town on the river Laur, con-
taining a gymnasium, a cloister of the Augustine hermits,
and a commandery of the Teutonic Order ; Koenigshofcn,
a small fortified town on the Saal ; Geiolshofen, an ancient
town on the left of the Maync, near to which are the ruins
of the citadel of Zabelstein ; Volkach,a town on the Mayne,
four leagues north east of Wurtzburg, which exports con-
siderable quantities of wine ; Tphofen, Kitzingen, Ochsen-
furt,all celebrated for good wine, and situated on the Mayne;
Homburg, Dettelbach, and a great number of small mar-
ket-towns.

The bishopric of Bamberg, situated east and south of
Wurtzburg, stretches upwards of 65 miles from south-west
to north-east, is between 40 and 50 miles in breadth, and
contains 195,000 inhabitants. It is divided into two equal
parts by the river Rednitz, running from south to north, and
falling at Bamberg into the IMayne, which waters the nor-
thern parts. The soil is generally fertile, producing abun-
dance of grain, fruits, and wine ; and near the capital there
are so many trees of the laurel, fig, lemon, and orange, that
it is sometimes called the little Italy of Germany. The
principal towns are Bamberg (see BAMBERci"), or Bahen-

VoL. IX. Part II.

berg, the capital of the district, a tolerably ■well built city,
containing a magnificent cathedral, a large episcopal pa-
lace, an university, several monasteries, kc. and about
16,600 inhabitants; Forchheim, a fortified town, about 20
miles south of Bamberg, defended by a strong castle, and
containing 4000 inhabitants ; Si;hesslitz, a neat town with a
castle, two leagues north-east of the capital ; Cronach, u
meanly built but fortified town, situated on an eminence,
and containing 4000 inhabitants ; Lichtenfels, a trading place
on the Mayne, 20 miles north-east of Bamberg; Upper
Schciiilkld, Vilseck, &c.

The territories of the Teutonic Order, or Knights of the
Virgin Mary, would 'form a considerable principality, if
lying contiguous; but their estates arc scattered ihoughovi'.
Germany, and consist of the masterdom of Mergentheini,
and 12 bailiwicks. The bailiwick ol Franconia is divided
into 15 commanderies, named from the ])laces where the
property of the order is situated, Ellingrn, Wiernsberij,
Nuremberg, Wurtzburg, 5cc.

II. The states of the secular princes are chiefly those of
Bayreuth, orCulmbach ; An.sb;ich,or Onolbbach ; Limburg,
Schwarzenberg, Wertheim. Erbach, Ilenncberg, Hoheiv
loe, and several others of trifling extent.

The principality of Bayreuth or Culmbach, belonging lo
the house of Brandenburg, borders on Bohemia, and ex-
tends upwards of 30 miles eastward, and 28 from north to
south. It is generally fertile and well cultivated, diversi-
fied with mountains and plains, but in some tracts is re-
markably I'.illy, rugged, and barren. Tlie elevated ridge
of Fichtelberg, or Mons Pomiferus, nearly 16 miles in
length, and one of tlie highest mountains in Germany, con-
tains mines of iron, copper, lead, antimony, Ecc. crystals and
marbles of various colours, and gives rise to a number of
rivers, especially the Maync, Saal, Eger, and Nab. The
wliole principality contains about 205,000 inhabitants. Its
principal towns are Baieith or Bayreuth (see Bareith),
the capital, and the residence of the Margrave, a consider-
able town, cor.iaining a palace, castle, academy, &c. and
about 10,000 innabitants ; St George, a town situated on the
small lake Weyher, and containing an elegant palace recent-
ly built; Culmbach, formerly the Margrave's residence, a
small town, pleasantly situated, slightly fortified, and con-
taining 2800 inhabitants ; liimmelkron, a large village, with
a palace of the prince, in a pleasant valley on the White
Maync ; Hof, an ancient town on the Saal, containing 4700
people ; Wunsiedcl, a neat trading town on the Fichtel-
berg, containing 2400 inhabitants; Weissenstadt, a small
town near the source of the Eger, in a wild and barren
tract, formerly much famed for its mines of tin and copper ;
Creusen, a small place, remarkai>lc for its fine earthen
ware ; Eriangen, (see Erlangen,) near the influx of the
Schwabach into the Rednitz, eleven leagues suuth-west of
Bareuth, consists of two small towns, the most recent of
which was built by the French refugees after the revoca-
tion of the edict of Nantes, and contains several handsome
streets, an elegant palace of the Margrave, an university,
manufactures of hats, stockings, Sec. and 8000 inhabitants;
Ncustadt, Bayersdorf, and a number of other market towns
and large villages.

The principality of Ansbach, or Onolzbach, is bounded
by the territories of Bayreuth, Bamberg, and Wurtshurg.
It is generally fertile ; but some parts are remarkably
mountainous and sandy. It is watered by the Jaxt, the
Rednitz, and the Altmuhl ; and near the village of Graben,
some remains may stiil be traced ol the canal between the
two last of these rivers, by which Charlemagne opened a
communication, in 793, betwec.i the Danube and the Rhine.
The principality contains 215,000 inhabitants; and its chief
towns are, Ansbach, or Anspach, (see Anspacii,) the resi-

450

FRANCONIA.

dence of the Margrave, a well-built town, containing 1 3,000
people, and situated in the centre of the country ; Schwa-
bach, a manufacturing town, situated on the river of the
same name, about 18 miles east of the capital, containing
6000 inhabitants, and noted for its hardware, stockings, and
tapestry ; Wendelstein, a handsome town, seven miles cast
of the last mentioned place ; Cadolsburg, a considerable
town, surrounded with walls and defended by a castle; Furth,
a well-built and trading borough, about five miles north of
Nurnberg ; Roth, a little manufacturing town seven leagues
south-east of Anspach, famed for its weavers of stocking
and lace, and for an imperial asylum for persons guilty of
manslaughter; Ufrenheim,a handsome and flourishing ma-
nufacturing town, with several good public buildings, about
25 miles north-west of Anspach ; Heilsbrun, Fcuchtwang,
&c.

The principality, or rather lordship of Limburg, lying
south-west of Nurnberg, extends about 20 miles from north
to south, and 18 from east to west. It contains 15,000 in-
habitants; and its principal towns are, Upper Sonthcim,
Gaildorf, Markt-Einersheim, defended by a castle, and
Soinmerhausen, fortified with a rampart and ditch.

The county of Schwarzenberg, north-west of Nurnberg,
and in the interior of the circle, is about 20 miles long and
5 broad. It contains 24,000 inhabitants ; and its principal
towns are, Markt-Schainleld, Geiselwind, Markt-Brait, &c.

The county of VVertheim is situated between the terri-
tories of Mentz and the bishopric of Wurtzburg, and is
traversed by the river Mayne. It yields a considerable
produce of wine ; and its chief places are, Wertheim, Rem-
lingen, Freudenberg, Hochst, Helbach, and Branberg, for-
merly celebrated for its aqueducts, which were destroyed
by Turenne in 1675.

The county of Erbach, nearly surrounded by the territo-
ries of the Lower Rhine, is about 20 miles in length and 16
in breadth ; mountainous, but well cultivated, provided with
quarries of stone and marble, and several good mines of
iron. Its chief towns are, Erbach, an old town with a cita-
del and wall ; Michelstadt, which has an iron foundery in
its vicinity ; Freienstein, Furstenau, Sec.

The county of Henneberg, in the northern part of the cir-
cle, is about 40 miles from east to west, and from 20 to 30
from north to south, and is traversed by the river Werra.
There are several forests and mountains, mines of iron,
salt, and mmeral springs, in the country. Grain and tobac-
co are raised in the more level districts. It is divided into
several portions, belonging to the electoral houses of Saxo-
ny, Saxe-VVeimar, Saxe-Gotha, Hesse-Cassel, &c. Its
principal places are, Scnleusinger, near the forest of Thu-
ringia, containing 2200 people ; Suhla. a manufacturing
town three leagues farther north, containing 6000 inhabi-
tants; Ihnenau, on the eastern border, with several mines
of copper and silver ; Meinungen, in the centre, seven
leagues west from the last mentioned, containing 3500 peo-
ple; Salzungen, near the north border, celebrated for its
salt springs ; Schmalkalden, a considerable manufacturing
town, tliree leagues northward from Meinungen, and famed
in history for the league of the Protestant princes in 1531.

The principality of Hohenloe, of a very irregular figure,
is about 40 miles from east to west, and 25 from north to
south. It is watered in the western part by the Kocher,
and in the eastern by the Tauber and Wornitz. Its moun-
tains afford vaiious kinds of timber ; its vallies are covered
w.th excellent pastures ; and its southern hills are clothed
wit- vineyards. It contains 80,000 inhabitants. Its prin-
cipal towns are. Oehringen, in tiic south-west corner, con-
taining 3900 people ; Frmikenau, a considerable manufac-
turing place near the source of the Wornitz ; Kunselsau,

situated in a hilly quarter, and containing 2 ICO inhabitants;
Ingelfingen, Kirchberg, &c.

Besides these, are the counties of Reineck and Castell,
and the lordships of Hansen, Welshcim, Seinsheim, Rci-
chelsbcrg, and Wesenthcid, which are of very little extent,
each containing only a small town, or a few villages.

The imperial cities are Rothenburg, an old and well-built
town in tlie county of Anspach, containing 8000 inhabitants,
surrounded by walls and strong towers ; Windsheim, a
small fortified place in the same county, containing 2500
people; Scheinfurt, a small fortified town on the Mayne;
Wcissenburg, a small place in the bishopric of Aichstadt ;
and Nurnberg, or Nuremberg, which will form the subject
of a separate article. The more remarkable also of the
towns here mentioned, will be found under their respective
titles.

The districts of Bamberg and Wurtzburg, contain some
of the best land in Germany, and abound in all the necessa-
ries of life. The inhabitants are skilful in agriculture; but
in manufactures, are very far behind their more nort^iern
neighbours. In the vicinity of Bamberg, the art of garden-
ing is practised to a great extent ; and immense quantities of
small pickled girkins, the best onions in Germany, and es-
pecially liquoiice roots, are carried as far as Holland as ar-
ticles of trade. The common people believe that there is
no liquorice in any other part of the world, and that the
possession of this root was given to them as an exclusive
privilege by St Cunigunda, who is interred in their cathe-
dral. Notwithstanding, however, of the excellence of the
soil, and the gentleness of their ecclesiastical rulers, the
people in these two rich bishoprics are in general extreme-
ly poor ; and more beggars are to be seen among them
than in many of the less favoured districts. This has been
ascribed partly to the dissipated and luxurious manners of
the inhabitants, and to the numerous acts and institutions of
charity, which the Roman Catholic system (the prevailing
religion of the country) is supposed to produce.

In the territories of Bareuth and Anspach, the bounties
of nature are less liberally bestowed ; but a greater spirit of
industry prevails among the people ; and the inhabitants,
though loaded with taxes, are in much better circum-
stances than in the fertile districts of the southern states.
In the smaller principalities, the people in general are sub-
ject to great oppression, especially those whose masters re-
side in the greater courts. They are not only thus depri-
ved of the advantages which would arise from the rents and
revenues being expended on the spot, but are also subject-
ed to the tyranny and exactions of despotic deputies. See
Playfair's Geografihy, vol. iv. and Reisbeck's Travels
through Germany, vol. iii. (y)

FR ANEKER, a town of Holland in West Friesland, si-
tuated in the district of Westergo, and in the canton of
Franckeradeel. It stands about two leagues from the Zuy-
der Sea, near the canal which stretches between Leuwar-
den and Harlingen. Franeker is the second town, and one
of the neatest in Friesland, being adorned with very fine
buildings, both public and private. It is celebrated for its
university, which possesses a fine library, and which was
established in 1585 by the states, and by William Louis,
Count of Nassou. It possesses also a castle, which was
erected in the 15th century, and served as the residence of
the governors of Friesland. Between Franeker and Har-
lingen, there are many tile-kilns, where varnished tiles of a
deep colour are fabricated. About a league from the town
is Kleins-Lankum, the residence of the celebrated Camper,
and where one of his sons continues to increase the splen-
did collection of minerals and petrifactions begun by his
father.

FRANKFORT.

451

The mean temperature of this town, accoiding to five
years observations, was 52° 6'. The maximum heat was
82°, and the greatest usual cold 12°. East Loiigiudc 5°
28'; and north Latitude 53° 11'. (to)

FRANKFORT, on the Mayne, an imperial city in the
circle of the Upper Rhine, is about 35 miles eastward of
Mentz, and is situated in the centre of the finest district of
Germany. It was anciently the lesidence of the Frankish
monarchs, and is still the place where the electors of the
empiie hold their meeting for choosing an emperor. The
city is large, and contains about 60,000 inhabitants, includ-
ing the Jews. It is divided into two unequal parts by the
river Mayne, over which there is a bridge composed of 14
arches. The town is well fortified, and is surrounded with
a broad dilch very full of water. The ramparts are plant-
ed will) limes, and afl'ord agreeable walks to the inhabitants.
Most of the houses are built of timber, lath, and plaster,
and constructed in the antique form, having the upper sto-
ries projecting over the lower; but they are kept in good
repair, and h_ve always a fresh appearance. The principal
houses are built of red or white stone, and many of them
are splendid edifices. The principal streets are wide, and
there are three spacious squares, which add greatly to the
beauty of the place, and in which are situated the houses
of the opulent merchants, and the palaces of the neigh-
bouring princes. Considerable additions have lately been
made to it, comprising a square and 18 streets, which are
filled with inhabitants. The public buildings most worthy
of notice, are the cathedral church of Bartholomew, and
the Romer or Stadhouse. The cathedral belongs to the
Catholics, and is a large ancient Gothic structure, said to
have been erected by Pepin of France, and enriched by
Charlemagne; but it was completely plundered by Louis
of Bavaria ; and has neither statues, paintings, nor orna-
ments. The Romer, or town house, is an immense Gothic
pile, bearing the marks of great antiquity, and containing
various chambers for the transactions of public business.
In the chamber of the electors, are several good paintings;
and the grand hall contains a regular series of portraits of
all the German emperors, from the time of Conrad in tiie
yeai-900. Among the archives, is deposited the famous gold-
en bull of Charles IV. which contains the fundamental laws
of the Germanic .constitution, written on parchment, in
High Dutch, says Bishop Burnet, (who confesses, how-
ever, that he did not see it,) but according to Cogan, in
the Latin language. The Lutheran church of St Kathe-
rine, is also a magnificent building, ornamented, says the
prelate just quoted, with as much painting as any Popish
church, and having a huge carved crucifix over the higii
altar. Tlie pulpit is extremely fine, constructed of mar-
ble of different colours, nicely polished and joined. The
city is not encumbered with suburbs; but is surrounded
with the country seats and pleasure gardens of the richer
inhabitants, intermixed with public houses and tea gardens,
for the entertainment of the ordinary citizens. No town in
Germany, or perhaps in Europe, is more celebrated for
excellent inns ; but there exists a very oppressive law, by
which the innkeepers, except at the time of the fairs, can
prevent strangers from occupying private lodgings, and
compel them both to eat and to sleep in the taverns. Frank-
fort IS one of the principal commercial towns in Germany ;
and many of its merchants are possessed of considerable
wealth. Riesbeck reckons that there are 200 houses or com-
panies, who have annual incomes of 100,000 guilders, or
10,000^ sterling and upwards; and in furniture, equipage,
and dress, there is a great appearance of affluence among
the higher rank of citizens. The trade, however, is of a
description unfavourable to the country ; and Frankfort has
been termed " the great canal by which the gold of the

empire runs out." There are considerable manufactures
of silk, cotton, linen, woollen, carpeting, porcelain, tobacco,
iron ware, &c. ; but the piincipal traders are little better
than brokers, commissioning articles of internal consump-
tion. The export of German commodities from this chan-
nel, scarcely amounts to one-tenth of the impoiis fi om
other countries, which consist of all kinds of spices, fi male
ornaments, handkerchiefs, silks, and the various articles of
luxury, furnished by Italy, France, and Holland. As the
way to the principal high roads of Germany lies through
the direction of Frankfort, there is always a concourse of
fashionable company in the town; and several thousands of
strangers are attracted to its great fairs, where the southern
parts of Germany arc supplied with various commodities.
Of these fairs, there are two in the year, one in the spring,
and another in the autumn season. Its situation on the
Mayne, and its proximity to the Rhine, renders it the ma-
gazine of all the merchandize which is conveyed by these
rivers to the different parts of Germany. Besides the
number of traders (about 160(j) and private purchasers, by
whom these fairs are frequented, multitudes are attracted
by the love of gaiety and amusement ; and the city becomes,
during their continuance, as much a scene of licentiousness
as a mart of business. The municipal government of
Frankfort is of a very mixed and intricate description ; and
warm contests are continually carrying on between the
aristocratical and popular interests. The spirit of liti-
giousness is described as unusually prevalent in the place;
and the annutil expence of the law suits, in which the ma-
gistrates are uniformly engaged with the burghers of the
city, or with the neighbouring princes, is estimated at 50,000
rix-doUars. The annual revenue is about 600,000 guilders,
or 30,000/. sterling, which is raised chiefly from the cus-
toms and excise ; but partly from the contributions of the
burghers. There are two rates of contribution, one of 50
and the other of 25 guilders per annum. The former is
imposed upon those who have an annual income of 30,000
guilders and upwards; and the latter upon smaller in-
comes; but every person estimates his own property, and
consequently taxes himself, whicii it sometimes becomes
the interest of the merchants to fix at the higher, rather
than the lower rate. The citizens who are not Lutherans,
have greater taxes to pay, while they possess fewer privi-
leges. The Calvinists are wholly excluded from the rights
of burgesses ; and the Catholics, though admitted to that
distinction, are not allowed to take any share in the govern-
ment. The inhabitants of this city have a peculiar institu-
tion, called colleges, or associations of persons of the same
rank or profession, colleges of nobles, colleges of lawyers,
colleges of physicians, colleges of booksellers, colleges of
all orders and artists; so that a stranger, upon being intro-
duced into any of these, finds himself instantly acquainted
with the most respectable persons of his own station. Many
of the wealthier inhabitants possess considerable private
collections of paintings, and of natural curiosities. These
they take great pleasure in exhibiting to strangers ; but are
apt to exhaust both the patience and politeness of the vi-
sitors, by their tedious description of the minutest articles.
Many of the principal literary characters of Germany, and
well-informed men in every branch of the arts and sciences,
may be found in Frankfort ; but the low state of religious
toleration, indicates a tardy progress in the path of real ci-
vilization, and in the spirit of true Christianity. While in
manners and conversation there is too great a degree of
licence ; there are, in the exercise of public rights, many
partial and preposterous restrictions. The established re-
ligion is the Lutheran ; but both the Catholics and Calvi-
nists are nearly equal to them in number, and the latter
rather superior in point of wealth. The Catholics enjoy
3L2

452

FRA

tlicir principles and observances in full libcrly, and have
ntiinei'ous chapels, monasteries, and nunneries ; and tlie
Calvinists, who about 20 years ago were oblij^ed to resort
to Saxenliausen, a village on the opposite side of the Mayne,
in order to observe public worship in pence and tranquillity,
jiave now two handsome places of worship within the city,
one German, the other French. Thei e are 10,000 Jews in
Frankfort, who have a considerable synagogue, and enjoy
a precarious toleration. They are found too useful to be
totally eradicated, but arc often subjected to such oppres-
sions, as the self-interest of their persecutors will permit.
The streets, to which their residence is restricted, were
formerly inclosed with walls, in such a manner that, if
thought necessary, they could be imprisoned in a body by
locking the gates; and their habitations were so crowded,
that i.i seven of the houses, which scarcely occupied a
space of fifty yards, and which iiappencd to be burned
down, there were found to have dwelt twelve hundred in-
dividuals. There is a law, which prohibits them from re-
siding in any other part of the city, and even from appear-
ing out of their own enclosure ; but it is only occasionally
enforced, and sometimes in order to extort money for the
exemption. At other times they are forced out of their
retreat, to perform the more servile offices, such as to
carry water in cases of fire, kc. They are a most indus-
trious people, and some of them possess considerable
wealth. They are chiefly employed in selling toys, and
dealing in old clothes, of which they receive vast ([uanti-
ties from England ; but they refuse no kind of occupation,
however degrading or dishonourable. " Those who go
into their streets," says Riesbcck, " are in danger of being
pressed to death by them. They fall upon strangers by
dozens, and compel thein to buy their wares. It is very
difficult for a man to disentangle himself from them with-
out the help of a good stick; and they call to strangers
from the distance of three or four hundred paces." Since
their quarter of the city, however, was nearly consumed
by fire, they have been dispersed over all the town, which
they greatly prefer to their old habitations. East Long,
according to solar observations, 8° 36', and North Lat. 50"
7' 29". See Kuttner's Travels through Denmark., and Guide
des Voyageurs, vol. ii. p. 75. Riesbeck's Travels through
Germany, vol. iii. Cogan's Journeij on the Rhine, vol. ii.
Bishop Burnet's Travels ; and Letters on a Tour through
Germany, (rj)

FRANKFORT, on the Oder, a city of Germany, in the
circle of Upper Saxony, and middle mark of Brandenburg,
is a well built and trading town about 18 leagues south-east
')f Berlin. It contains a cathedral, a bishop's palace, two
olleges, and several churches. The churches are large
.■,nd well built, and the bridge over the Oder is about 280
feet in length. A simple monument has been erected to
the memory of the poet Kleist, by the lodge of free masons
in this city, in 1778 ; and the place where Prince Leopold
of Brunswick perished, in generously attempting to save a
fellow-creature from the waves of the Oder, is distinguish-
ed by a beautiful monument of white marble. In one of
the churches, the same humane act is commemorated by
a painting from the pencil of Rode. There is also an aca-
demy, a society for promoting the arts and sciences, and a
Calvinislic university, which was established in 1506 by the
Elector Joachim and his brother Albert. There are three
annual fairs in this city, and it draws considerable advan-
tages from the navigation of the Oder, and the canal of
Muhlrose, by which it has an indirect communication with
the Baltic. The number of inhabitants is 10,000. East
Long, according to sidereal observations, 14° 33' 15"; and
North Lat. 52°'22' 8" (./)
FRANKING of Letters. See post-Office.

FRANKINCENSE. See Glms.

FRANKLIN, Bentamin, the celebrated American po-
litician and philosopher, was born at Boston in New Eng-
land, in the year 1706. He was the yovmgest son of Josiah
Franklin, a silk dyer in Northamptonshire, who removed to
America in 1682, where >ie embraced the occupation of a
soap-boiler and tallow-chandler, reared a numerous family
by honest industry, and was distinguished among his towns-
men as a person of sound judgment, and sober piety. His
other sons were put apprentices to different trades; but
Benjamin was destined for the church; and, at the age of
eight years, was sent to a grammar school. He was remov-
ed, however, at the end of the first year, to a school for wri-
ting and arithmetic; and at ten yearsof age, was taken home
to assist in his father's occupation. From his earliest years
lie discovered a passionate love of reading, especially the ac-
counts of voyages; and he mentions Plutarch's Lives and Dc
Foe's Essay on Projects, as among the few books of general
information to which he hadaccess.This inclination for books,
and the strong aversion which he shewed to tne occupation
of his father, suggested the plan of binding him apprentice
to one of his brothers, who had established a printing-house
at Boston. In this situation, he had an opportunity of pro-
curing better books, and pursued his studies with such avidi-
ty, that he frequeritly spent the whole night in reading. He
soon began to commit his own thoughts to writing; and by
making summaries of papers from the Spectator, which he
afterwards endeavoured to expand, from recollection, into
their original form, he laboured to improve his style with-
out any other instructor. When about 16 years of age, he
adopted, from some work which fell into his hands, the
fancy of adhering exclusively to a vegetable diet ; and pro-
posed to his brother, that, if he would allow him per week
one half of what was paid for his board, he would under-
take to maintain himself. Out of this little fund, he con-
trived to purchase books, as well as to pay for his subsis-
tence ; and, by his new mode of living, saved much time for
his favourite pursuits. " When my brother and his work-
men left the printing-house to go to dinner, I remained be-
hind; and dispatching my frugal meal, which frequently-
consisted of a biscuit only, or a slice of bread and a bunch
of raisins, or a bun from the pastry-cook's, with a glass of
water, I had the rest of the time, till their return, for study;
and my progress therein was proportioned to that clear-
ness of ideas and quickness of conception, which are the
fruit of temperance in eating a;id drinking." By perusing
the works of Shaftesbury and Collins, he became a sceptic
in religion, and began to adopt the Socratic method of rea-
soning, especially on that topic, as at once the safest to him-
self, and the most embarrassing to his opponents, obtaining
often in this manner victories, which, by his own confession,
" neither his cause nor his arguments merited." Having
sent to the newspaper, printed by his brother, several ano-
nymous pieces, which were very favourably received by
the critics of tiie place, he became a little more sensible
of his own attainments, and could less easily brook the se-
vere treatment which he frequently experienced as an ap-
prentice. His brother, being of a passionate temper, and
his own impertinence sometimes serving as a sufficient pro-
vocation, he was often punished with blows. Having, be-
sides, given offence, by the freedom of some of his pieces
in the newspapers, both to the friends of government and
of religion, he determined to quit at once the service of his
brother, and the place of his nativity; but, despairing of
being able to gain his father's consent, he secretly sailed to
New York at the age of 17 years, without the aid or appro-
bation of his friends, and with no more money than what
the sale of a few of his books could enable him to raise.
Being disappointed in his hopes of employment in that city.

.Ifurlu; J'i^i'

')z P_^frayj^J;/^i^

FRANKLIN.

453

lie proceeded to Pliiladclpliia, where he arrived, after a fa-
tiguing journey, weary and hungry, without an acquaint-
ance in the place, and with no giealer stock of money than
a Dutch dollar in his pocitet. lie soon found employment
as a journeyman printer; and his iiterai-y atiainnicnts hav-
ing attracted the notice of the governor, Sii- William Keith,
he was encouraged, by the flattering promises of his pa-
tron, to conceive the design of commencing business on his
own account; and at last, after a short delay, he accepted
the otter of the governor to advance the neccssaiy sum for
liis establishment in business, and sailed for London to pur-
chase the materials of his intended printing-oHice. Upon
his arrival in London, he found himself the dupe of false
professions ; and discovered that his friend Sir William
Keith was either unable, or had never intended to furnish
him with those letters of credit and recommendation ujion
which he relied. He therefore employed himself as a
journeyman printer in London, that he might improve his
knowledge of the profession ; and never failed to recom-
mend himself to those whom he served, by his assiduous
application to business. After spending about IS months
in this manner, and increasing considerably his stock of
knowledge by means of the acquaintance which he made
with several literary characters, and the opportunities of
reading which he enjoyed, he engaged himself as clerk to
Mr Denham, a merchant of Philadelphia, and returned
with him to that city in October 1"26. But, in the begin-
ning of the following year, he was deprived of this e.xcel-
lent friend by death, and was once more obliged to resume
his occupation of printer, imder his first employer in Phila-
delphia. In a short time, however, he opened a printing
ofTice in partnership with one of his fellow printers; and,
by indefatigable industry, soon acquired a Sufficiency of
funds and of friends to undertake the whole of the busi-
ness. About this time, he mentions in his Memoirs, that
he had for several years been completely unsettled in his
belief of religious principles, and even of moral obliga-
tions ; but having witnessed in many of his companions the
demoralizing influence of such opinions, he became practi-
cally convinced of the importance at least of truth and pro-
bity in the transactions of human life ; and, though uninflu-
enced by any respect for revelation, he was preserved by
the good efl'ects, it may be supposed, of his pious educa-
tion, from gross immorality or injustice, and confirmed in a
serious resolution to pursue a course of urideviating up-
rightness. He soon acquired the reputation of a most in-
dustrious and ))unctual tradesman, and his friends and em-
ployers daily increased. He instituted, in 1728, a literary
society named the Junto, which subsisted during the space
of 40 years, and became the foundation of the American
Philosophical Society. At the same time, he puolished a
new periodical paper, to which he drew the attention of the
public by his own ability in writing ; and particularly
brought himself into notice, by a pamphlet on the Nature
and Necessity of a Paper Currency.

In 1730 he entered into the married state, and continued
to prosper in business, to improve in knowledge, and to
advance in public usefulness. He was chosen, first, prin-
ter, then clerk, and at length a member of Assembly, in
which he represented the city of Philadelphia for 14 years
successively. He was indefatigable in suggesting various
useful improvements and institutions for the benefit of tlie
community : and particularly contributed to the formation
of a " Library Company" in 1731 ; the establishment of an
insurance office against damages by fire, in 1733 ; the en-
rolment of volunteers for the defence of the country in
1744 ; the foundation of an academy and charitable school
in 1749, which afterwards was erected into a college or se-
minary of general learning ; and the endowment of the

Pennsylvania Hospital in 1750. He accomplished a bene-
ficial reform in the police of the city ; ministered to the
daily comfort of his fellow citizens, by his improved plans
of chimnics and fire places; and essentially promoted the
interests of frugality and industry among the lower orders,
by tiie publication of Poor Richard's Almanack. In the
midst of these humble labours, he gave abundant evidence
of his penetrating philosophi<;al genius, by prosecuting a
course of interesting experiments and discoveries on the
subject of electricity, whicli, about the middle of the last
century, had engaged so much of the attention of scientific
enquirers: (See Et.ECTJUcrrY.) liut, from the time that
he became a member of the Assembly of Pennsylvania, in
1747, his attention was so much directed to public affairs,
that the greater part of the remainder of his life was devo-
ted to political pursuits. Keen contentions were then carry-
ing on between the Assembly and the proprietaries of the
provinces ; and he soon became a leading character in op-
position to the latter. He seldom spoke in the course of
the debates which took place ; and when he did rise to ad-.
dress the house, his speeches often consisted only of a sin-
gle sentence or a well-told story, and were always express-
ed in the most concise and simple style. But his judg-
ment was unusually penetrating; and he has frequently been
known by a single observation, delivered in his plain man-
ner, to decide the fate of an important question. In 1754,
when a meeting of commissioners from the northern pro-
vinces was held at Albany, in order to concert measures of
mutual defence against the French settlements and Indian
tribes, Franklin attended as delegate from Pennsylvania,
and produced a plan which has generally been called the
" Albany plan of Union." Though unanimously approved
by the commissioners, it was finally rejected both by the
provincial Assemblies and the king's council, upon princi-
ples which seem to establish its excellence as a just me-
dium between political extremes. By the ministry of Great
Britain, it was considered as giving too much power to the
representatives of the people ; while it was rejected by
every assembly as giving to the president-general, the re-
presentative of the crown, a disproportionate and dange-
rous influence. In the alarm which followed the defeat of
Braddock in 1755, Franklin introduced a bill into the As-
seiTibly for organizing a kind of voluntary militia, and for
some time acted as colonel of a regiment raised in Phila-
delphia ; and, in 1757, he was cliosen agent for the province
of Pennsylvania to present a petition on the part of the As-
sembly to his Britannic Majesty, against the measures of
the proprietaries. After much discussion before the Privy
Council, tiie prayer of tlie petition was partially granted,
upon condition that Franklin would solenmly engage, that
the assessment should be so levied as to bear equitably up-
on the estates of the proprietaries ; a proposal which testi-
fied at least the high opinion entertained of his honour and
integrity. He still remained at the court of Great Britain
as agent for the province of Pennsylvania; and, in conse-
quence of the knov. ledge and fidelity with which he con-
ducted the interests of the colonies, he was soon apjiointed
to the same office for the provinces of JNIassachusetts, Ma-
ryland, and Georgia. He was now in a situation where his
merits v/ere sure of being duly appreciated, and. where his
claim to literary honours was fully acknowledged.

He was admitted a member of the Royal Society of Lon-
don, and of similar institutions in other parts of Europe;
and the degree of Doctor of Laws was conferred upon him
by the universities of St Andrews, F^dinburgh, and Oxford.
He was soon engaged in a correspondence with the most;
eminent philosophers of Europe, and never desisted entire-
ly from philosophical studies. It was during his residence
in London that he directed his attention to the electrical

454

FRANKLIN.

properties of the tourmalin, the effects of cold produced by
evaporation, the causes of the north-east storms in Nortli
America, and the construction of tlie musical plass instru-
ment the harmonica. But his time was chiefly occupied
■with political objects ; and a pamplilet which he published,
on the importance of Canada to (ircat Britain, is supposed
to have suggested the expedition under Wolf for the con-
quest of that province. After his leturn to America, in
1762, the disputes between the propiietaries and the As-
sembly were again revived, and increased to such a degree,
that, in 1764, a resolution was adopied Ijy the latter, v/hicli
Dr Franklin supported witli all his aliility, to petition the
King for an alteration of the firofiriclary into a >rg-a/ govern-
ment. In the election which took place in the end of that
year, the party of the proprietaries having gained a small
majority in the city of Philadelphia, Dr Franklin lost his
seat in the Assembly ; but his friends in that house still
holding the superiority, he was again appointed provincial
agent at London. After his return thither, he was examin-
ed at the bar of the House of Commons on the expediency
of the stamp act; and, on that occasion, gave a striking
proof of the accuracy of his information, and the facility of
his expression. In 1765, he made a visit to Holland and
Germany, and, in the year following, to France, experienc-
ing every where the most friendly reception from men of
literature and science. In the progress of the disputes be-
tween Great Britain and the American colonies, he exerted
himself to the utmost, both in his conversation and corres-
pondence, to effect a change of measures, and to point out
the evils which a perseverance in those that were adopted
must ultimately produce. Finding all his endeavours to
restore harmony entirely ineffectual, he returned to Ame-
rica, in the year 1775, immediately after the commence-
ment of hostilities, and continued to bear a leading part in
the memorable struggle, which terminated in the political
independence of the colonies. He acted as envoy of the
States, in all their most important negociations with Britain,
with France, and other European powers ; and, after his
return to Philadelphia, in 1785, was elected piesident of
the supreme executive council of that city. About three
years afterwards, he withdrew from all concern in political
affairs ; but, under all the infirmities of age, aggravated by
a painful disease, he was ready to co-operate in every mea-
sure of public or private good. He was president of the
Philadelphia Society for alleviating the miseries of public
prisons, and also of the Pennsylvania Society for promoting
the abolition of slavery. One of his last public acts, was
the signing of a memorial from the last mentioned associa-
tion, to the House of Representatives ; and the last produc-
tion of his pen was an ironical defence of the slave trade,
in the form of a speech, supposed to have been delivered
in the Divan of Algiers ; an inimitable parody of the argu-
ments of the anti-abolitionists, and a striking evidence of
the strength of intellect which he possessed to the last.
During the concluding twelve months of his life, he was
confined almost entirely to bed, by a calculous complaint,
which had afflicted him for several years ; but died at last
of an imposthume in his lungs, in April 1790, in the 85th
year of his age.

The life of Dr. Franklin affords a striking proof of the
influence in society of a sound understanding, united with
steady industry, and supported by candid integrity ; and
presents a useful lesson to all young persons of unsteady
principles and showy accomplishments. His writings and
discoveries also, on so many subjects of practical utility,
produced, without any advantages of regular education, or
literary society, forcibly illustrate hov/ far a vigorous and

well-directed mind may carry its possessor, without the
minutis of learning, and tlie theories of science. He lias
dislinguislicd himself in various departments of knowledge,
in natural philosophy, in political economy, in general lite-
ratuie, and in practical morality. His physical specula-
lions were almost uniformly suggested by vir-ws ol UJtility,
and are distinguished by the unparalleled facility with wliich
he conducts his reader from one step of the enquiry to
another, without even seeming to be at any loss, or to exert
any labour in the process His political writings were di-
rected too much to temporary questions, to be permanent-
ly interesting ; but his pamphlet on Canada, and his papers
on the " Albany plan of Union," have been recommended
as valuable models of strong reasoning and popular elo-
quence. On the general doctrines of the principle of po-
pulation, and the freedom of commerce, and the practical
points of the corn-trade, and the theory of money, his sen-
timents are considered as correct and clear; but, on the
more abstract subjects of the value of manufactures, and
the effects of paper currency, he is thought to be inaccurate
and superficial, not so much from any flaw in his deduc-
tions, as from the insufficiency of his data. On subjects of
morality, especially on those virtues which apply to the
great body of mankind, his compositions are admirably
adapted to accom.plish their object, by their clearness,
their soundness, their kindliness, their concise expression,
and pointed illustrations. In respect of literary qualities,
his style is often deficient in elegance, sometimes both
puerile and vulgar; but always distinguished by simplicity
of language and perspicuity of statement. He has been
called the most rational of all philosophers, never losing
sight of common sense in any of his speculations, or yield-
ing up his understanding either to enthusiasm or authori-
ty.* In his personal and moral character, he was distin-
guished by industry and application to whatever he under-
took, by the most active observation of whatever was pass-
ing around him, by acuteness and penetration in all his in-
tercourse with men, or enquiries after truth. He was
modest and unassuming in proposing his sentiments, com-
municating even his greatest discoveries only as queries or
conjectures; yet uniformly cheerful and playful in conver-
sation, enlivening every topic with entertaining anecdotes
and harmless pleasantries. He was actively benevolent,
and invariably upright; and though, in the early part of
his life, sceptical in religion, yet he became, in maturer
years, more friendly to devout sentiments, and, contrary to
the general opinion, is affirmed by his intimate friend Dr
William Smith to have been a believer in divine revelation.
The humble piety, at least, of the following acknowledg-
ment, in his Memoirs written by himself, cannot be doubt-
ed, and is worthy of being recorded. " And here let me
with all humility acknowledge, that to divine Providence I
am indebted for the felicity I have hitherto enjoyed. It is
that power alone which has furnished me with the means
I have employed, and that has crowned them with success.
My faith in this respect leads me to hope, though I cannot
count upon it, that the divine goodness will still be exercis-
ed towards me, either by prolonging the duration of my hap-
piness to the close of life, or by giving me fortitude to sup-
port any melancholy reverse which may happen to me as
to many others. My future fortune is unknown but to Him,
in whose hand is our destiny, and who can make our very
afflictions subservient to our benefit." See Life of Dr.
Franklin, ',iiritte?i by himself, and continued by Dr Stuber }
and Eulogium on Dr Franklin by Dr Smith. (9)

FRANKS. See France.

FRASC ATI, the ancient Tusculum, is a town of Italy,in

* The latest and most complete edition of the Works of Dr Franklin is that which was published in London, in 3 vols. 8vo. 1806.

IRA

lllE

45!

the Campagna di Roma, situated on llic side of a hill about Inhabited houses 373

twelve miles from Rome. The modern town is situated Number of females 527

much lower down than the ancient city, but still in such an Females employed in agriculture . . . isO

elevated and airy situation as to justify the origin of its Ditto in trades and manufactures . . . 357

name. There is nothing remarkable, according to Mr Males 1U31

Eustace, in the interior of the town; but it is encircled Females 1240

with villas of great beauty and magnificence. The town Total population 2271

of Tusculum was destroyed in a civil contest by the Ro- „ o . ■ . y r. , , , o ■ , „

., I , , ..„ 1 in„ I ■,„■„„ ..,„^ ^ee Statistical account of ocotlaim; ana otark s Gaif^-

mans themselves about the year 1190, and its sue was f ^ i i r \

marked, when visited by Mr Eustace, by long lines of ^"^ °J •="''*"'""'• (.«')

walls, and of shattered arches, intermingled with shrubs and FRAUENFELD is the name of a small tov/n of Swit-

bushes, even to the summit, and along the sides of the zerland, and the capital of the canton of TImrgovia. It is

mountain. From this there is an extensive view in every situated upon the banks of the Mourg, a river which rises

direction. Towards the southeast is seen Monto Catone in the mountains of Allmann, and in a coimtry where there

and the Prata Forcia, once the property of Cato. Ai Grotto are only a number of low hills.

Fenata, about IJ niile distant, stood the fuvourile Tuscan The annual assembly of the Confederates was formerly
villa of Cicero. It is now an abbey of Greek monks, and held in this town. There are here manufactures of silken
stands on one of the beautiful hills which form the Alban stuffs; and about the end of the 1 8th century, there was
Mount. In opposition to the opinion of Dr Middleton and discovered near the town a mine of pitcoal. (:u)
Mr Melmoth, Mr Eustace maintains, that not even a trace FREDERICK III.* King of Prussia, generally distin-
of the ruins of this villa is to be seen. The principal, per- guished by the appellation " Great," was the eldest son of
haps the whole of ihe building, says Mr Eustace, still stood Frederick William II. of Prussia, and of Sophia Dorothea,
at the end of the 18th century, when St Nilen, a Greek daughter of George I. of Great Britain. He was born at
monk from Calabria, fixed himself on the spot, and after Berlin on the 24th of January 1712, and was baptized by
having demolished what remained of tiie villa, erected on the name of Charles Frederick, but afterwards entii-ely
its site, and probably with its materials, his monastery, omitted the former of these names, both in his private let-
which in process of time became a rich abbey, and as it ters and public state papers. He was committed, in his
was first founded, so it is still inhabited by Greek monks infancy, to the care of Mad. de Rocoule, who spoke only
of the order of St Basil. At each end of the portico, is in French; and this circumstance has been considered as
fixed in the wall u fragment of basso relievo; one repre- the origin of his extreme partiality to that language. At
sents a philosopher sitting with a scroll in his hand in a seven years of age, he was provided with more appropriate
thinking posture; in the other are four figures supporting tutors; but, as his father's great object was to inspire him
the feet of a fifth, of a colossal size, supposed to represent with a military spirit, he seems to have received little in-
Ajax. These, with the beautiful pillars that support the struction in literature or science He applied himself, how-
church, are the only remnants of the decorations and fur- ever, in early youth, to the study of the belles lettres, par-
nilure of the ancient villa. The church contains little re- ticularly to poetry ; and soon discovered a strong propen-
markable, excepting the chapel of St Nilus, painted by sity to music, to which the king his father had an extreme
Dominichino in a masterly style. The wall is separated aversion. He was strictly prohibited cither to practise or
into compartments, and in each compartment is represented to hear it, and was obliged to meet his musical instructors
one of the principal actions of the patron saint. The De- in a forest or a cavern. Harassed by t -e austerity and vio-
moniac Boy, near the altar, and St Nilus praying near the lence of his father, — disgusted by the difficulties thrown in
end of the chapel, are supposed to be the two best." See the way of his favourite studies, — and perhaps moved by
Eustace's Travels, (tv) some other reasons which have never been distinctly ascer-

FRASERBURG, a town of Scotland, in the county of tained, — he adopted a resolution, in the year 1730, secretly
Aberdeen, is situated on the south side of the point called to quit the Prussian dominions, and to travel as a private
Kinnaird's Head. The streets, which are spacious, inter- individual in France or England. His intentions having
sect each other at right angles; and the houses, which are been discovered, he was arrested, togetlier with his travel-
neatly built, are covered with slates and tiles. The prison ling companions; one of whom. Lieutenant Catt, a youth of
and town house stand near the centre of the town. The amiable dispositions, was condemned to lose his head on a
cross is a fine hexagonal structure, with three equidistant scaffold; and the young prince was compelled, by his bru-
hexagonal abutments. The ground area is about 500 feet, tal father, to witness the untimely end of his friend. By the
and a stone pillar, 12 feet in height, sm-mounts the whole, same paternal care, he was himself imprisoned in a dun-
In the west end of the town stands an old quadrangular geon for the space of six months ; and, had not the Em-
tower, of three stories, which is part of a large edifice, in- peror of Germany interposed in his behalf, would also have
tended for a college, which Sir Alexander Fraser was em- suffered death. He was then permitted to enjoy greater
powered to erect by a charter from the crown in 1509. liberty, but was still required to reside at Custrin, till, about
The harbour of Fraserburgh, though small, is ncverthe- 18 months after his arrestment, a formal reconciliation took
less good, having from 11 to 16 feet of water, and admit- place between him and his father. But, as if only partially
ting vessels of 300 tons. There is good anchorage in a bay restored to favour, he seldom appeared at court, and resid-
contiguous to the harbour, of about three miles long, and ed chiefly at the retired castle of Rheinsberg — a circum-
one broad. Linen yarn is manufactured here to the extent stance which enabled him to prosecute his studies with
of three or four thousand pounds annually. A light-house greater assiduity, and which probably contributed in no
has lately been erected by government on the top of the small degree to his future greatness. In 1733, he was
old castle, situated on the promontory of Kinnaird's Head, compelled, by his father's despotic command, to marry

the princess of Brunswick VVolfenbuttle, niece to the Em-

The following is an abstract of the population of the press of Germany ; but was so utterly averse to the match,

town and parish in 1811: that, though he submitted to the ceremony, and received

• This Prince is frequently designated Frederick II., his father being in that ease marked as a William, and not fi Frederick.

4^3

FKKBERICK.

ihe lady into his palace, he refused to cohabit w'ah her as
long as lie lived. He was allcnded in his reureniciit by
many literary characters, pailicuhirly by M. tie Suhni,
privy-counsellor to the Elector ol Saxony; and in 1736 he
commenced a correspondence y/'nh \'oltairc, to whose wri-
tings he became peculiarly attached. In 1738 he accom-
jianied his father on a tour to Holland, for the purpose of
visiting the Prince of Orange; and in consequence of a
conversation which look place at the table of their host,
Frederick resolved to join the fraternity of free masons.
He was then in the 27lh year of his age, and is described
by one of his biographers, who was present at the ceremo-
ny of his initiation, as possessing at that age a very youthful
appearance, large blue eyes, pleasing features, a sprightly
look, a nolile air, and tlie greatest politeness of manners.
He continued, with a number of sprightly and literary fa-
vourites, to spend his time at Rheinsberg in a succession
of refined and studious pleasures ; and the most flattering
pictures have been drawn by those who shared liis pursuits,
of the intelligence of his mind, and the attractions of his
society. " All the employments," says Baron liielfeld,
" and all the pleasures of the Prince, are those of a man
of understanding. His conversation at table is charming.
He talks much, and excellently well. His mind seems to
be equal to all sorts of subjects; and his imagination pro-
duces, on each of them, a number of new and just ideas.
His genius resembles the fire of the vestals, that was never
extinct. A decent and polite contradiction is not disagree-
able to him. He possesses the rare talent of displaying the
wit of others, and of giving them opportunities to shine on
those subjects in 'Hhich they excel. He jests frequently,
and sometmies rallies, but never with asperity, and an in-
genious retort does not displease him." He was much em-
ployed in exercising the troops under his command, in at-
tendance at reviews, and in occasional journies with the
king; but generally resumed his literary pursuits with re-
newed ardour, upon returning to his retreat at Rheinsberg,
and often spoke of his residence there as the happiest pe-
riod of his life. The greatest interruption of his tranquilli-
ty arose from the want of money, which his parsimonious
father was always reluctant to grant ; and he was obliged
to borrow considerable sums from the Empress of Russia,
and Duke of Courland. On the 1st day of June 1740, he
succeeded his father, as king of Prussia, and his accession
to the throne was welcomed by the unanimous acclama-
tions of his subjects.

Immediately after the funeral of the deceased monarch,
he applied himself to public business with the utmost as-
siduity; and, among other regulations, instituted a new or-
der of knighthood, called " the order of merit," with the
professed design of rewarding meritorious individuals,
without distinction of birth, religion, or country. Soon
after his accession, he invited many learned and scientific
characters to his capital ; and adopted measures for estab-
lishing an academy of sciences in that city. He next pro-
ceeded to visit different parts of his dominions, in order to
receive the homage of his subjects; and set out incognito
to Strasburgh, that he might take a view of the French
frontiers. He intended to have proceeded to Paris, under
his feigned name of the Count du Fom, but, having been re-
cognised on his way, he turned aside to Cleves, where he
had his first interview with Voltaire, whom he employed to
publish his refutation of Machiavel, at the very moment
when he was exemplifying the principles which he con-
demned, by levying a contribution on the city of Liege,
and inforcing a questionable claim to the surrounding dis-
trict. From the very commencement of his reign, he
seems to have formed a plan for the increase of his terri-
tories ; and, by the death of the Emperor of Germany, an

extensile field was opened for the operations of his ambi-
tion. Disregarding the Pragmatic Sanction, by which all
the powers of Europe had guaranitcd the Emperor's he-
reditary dotr.inions to his eldest dau;>,l)ter the Archduchess
Maiia Theresa, he revived some obsolete claims to the
duciiy of Sihijija, and took immediate possession, wiih an
army of 30,000. He made himself master of Glogau by
surprise, defeated the Austrian army at Molwilz, reduced
the cities of I3rieg and N'eiss, entered Brcslaw, the capital,
without opposition, and having pid)licly received the ho-
mage of the Silesians, returned in triumph to Berlin, about
the end of the year 1741. Early in the following year, he
again joined his army ; gair)cd the hard contested battle of
Czaslau over the Austrian General Pi ince Charles of Lor-
raine ; seized the favourable moment for securing the ter-
ritory which he had conquered, by negociuting a separate
peace with, the Queen of Hungary; and i-esumed, amidst
the acclamations of his citizens at Berlin, the internal ad-
ministration of his kingdom. With a small retinue, and
with Ills usual rapidity, he went through a great part of
his dominions, inquiring into grievances, inspecting his re-
venues, and ascertaining the condition of his troops. But
in the midst of apparent peace, and while externally occu-
pied in the institution of a new academy in his capital, and
the celebration oi his sister's marriage with the Prince
Royal of Sweden, he was making the most active military
pieparations ; and, under pretence of preserving the Ger-
manic constitution from the encroachments of the House
of Austria, he issued the most artful manifestoes, and at
the head of 80,000 men suddenly entered the kingdom of
Bohemia. He took the city of Prague, and was pushing
his conquests with more than ordinary vigour; but, by the
able and rapid exertions of Prince Charles of Lorraine, a
stop was put to his progress, and he was compelled, with
immense loss, to make a precipitate retreat into Silesia.
He was so extremely mortified by the disastrous result of
this campaign, that he is said to have forbidden all conver-
sation on the subjectat liis court; and hastening to retrieve
his lost honours with an army of 70,000, he came upon the
Austiians unexpectedly at Hohen Freidberg, where he
gained a complete victory, as much by his own crafty ge-
neralship, as by the valour of his soldiers. Marching for-
wards into Bohemia, he was suddenly met and attacked in
his camp at Sohr, by bis enterprising adversary the Prince
of Lorraine; but though thus taken at great disadvantage,
and assailed by superior numbers, he took his measures
with so much promptitude and skill, and received such able
support from his officers and men, that, besides repulsing
the attack with spirit, he routed the enemy with great
slaughter. Sending his army into winter quarters, he en-
tered Berlin in a triumphant style, with the cannon and co-
lours which he had taken from the Auslrians ; but, hearing
that the Prince of Lorraine still continued his movements,
he i-eturned rapidly to the field ; and, after a series of
successes, entered the city of Dresden, where he concluded
a treaty of peace in 1745, securing the possession of Silesia,
and receiving a million of German crowns from the Elec-
tor of Saxony. Returning to his capital with all the pomp
of victory, he displayed the utmost affability towards his
applauding people; and, while making the circuit of the
city in the midst of the illuminations, he halted in his pro-
gress to take a last farewell of one of his early preceptors,
who was lying at the point of death.

In the year 1745, a season of general peace among the
powers of Germany, Frederick was wholly occupied with
matters of domestic policy; and adopted various regula-
tions for the prosperity of commerce, literature, and the
arts. He directed his attention particularly to effect a
thorough reform in the courts of justice, especially to les-

IKKDEIUCK.

457

sen the delays and cxpcnccsof legal proceedings; and at
lengUi produced the famous Fuedehician Coue, which
was adopted in all the Prussian dominions.* In concur-
rence \vith the President Mauijcrluis, he IVanicd, aliout the
same time, several additional rules for the Royal Academy;
but he treated his philosophers rather like a regiment of
soldiers, and attempted too much to regulate matters of
taste and opinion by kingly authority. During the same
period of peace, he published his " Alemoirs of the House
of Brandenburg," and his "Poem on the Art of War;"
the former, a work written with spirit, and full of valuable
information, though not always free from mistakes and mis-
representations ; and the latter, a performance neither des-
titute of poetical merit, nor deficient in sound principles of
military science, but remarkable for the extraordinary
omission of the name of Marlborough, while the generals
whom the British commander frequently defeated are fur-
nished with their respective portions of fame. He enr-
ployed himself much in embellishing some of his principal
cities; and among other measures, which he adopted for
the benelit of his subjects, he asserted their right to navi-
gate the seas without interruption from belligerent powers,
so that he has been considered as the author of the system
of armed maritime neutrality. He exerted himself by eve-
ry method to increase the population of his dominions ;
and, in this view, expende<.l large sums of money in clear-
ing waste lands and forming navigable canals ; gave great
encouragement to French Protestants and other industri-
ous emigrants to settle in his territories; and particularly
succeeded by these means in peopling and fertilizing the
deserts of Pomerania.

In 1749, he was visited by the celebrated INIarechal
Saxe, whom he treated with every mark of distinction ;
and in the year following, after various applications, he
prevailed upon Voltaire to reside at his court, whom he
created one of his chamberlains, and provided with an an-
nual pension of 20,000 livres. But their friendship was
not of long duration ; and they were both too ambitious of
despotic power in the republic of letters to exist harmoni-
ously in the same circle. The king was disgusted by tlie
familiarity with which the French wit behaved to him in
public, and with the sarcastic remarks in which he some-
times indulged even upon his royal person. His majesty
also was much offended by a money transaction, of rather a
dishonourable description, in which Voltaire had engaged
with the aid of a Jew ; and the other wits at the Prussian
court, envious of his high favour, took care to report to the
monarch's ear the most oflensive of his sayings. But the
principal cause of their greatest misunderstanding, and fi-
nal separation, was the decided part which Voltaire took
against Frederick in a dispute between Maupertuis and
Koenig. Even this open dissension was in some measure
composed, when his majesty having sent a message to Vol-
taire, requesting him to write an apology to Maupertuis,
the Frenchman burst into a violent rage, and desired the
messenger to tell the king that " he might go to hell."
Still, it is said, they had another interview, in which they
were seemingly reconciled, and Voltaire received permis-
sion to go to Plombieres for the benefit of his health ; but
the king having afterwards discovered that Voltaire had
written a satirical piece against him, he sent a letter, dis-
missing him from his service, and requiring him to return
the contract of their engagement, with a volume of poetry,
with which he Irad been entrusted. Voltaire immediateiy
left Berlin, but retained possession of the contract, which
bound Frederick to pay him 20,000 livres a year, and of

the poetiy, w hich he considered as a present ; but he was
arrested at Frankfort on the Maine at the king's instance,
and treated in a most unworthy manner, till he made the
required restitution.

In 1753, Frederick exerted all his influence to prevent
the election of a king of the Romans, which was consider-
ed as a measure highly conducive to the peace of Germa-
ny ; but which, as tending to aggrandize the house of Aus-
tria, he WMs anxious to obstruct ; and, by his persevering
opposition, prevented its execution for many years. In
l".i6, he concluded a treaty with his Britannic Majesty, in
which they mutually stipulated for the defence of their
common country, to prevent all foreign troops from enter-
ing on any pretence into Germany. But the great army
which Frederick maintained, his indefatigable tiiligence in
exercising his troops, and his well known enterprising spi-
rit of ambition, having long excited a general apprehension
among the neighbouring powers, an extensive confedera-
cy, or partition treaty, was at length concluded, between
Russia, Austria, Poland, the Elector of Saxony, and the
court of Versailles, to restrain his jirojccts and retrench
his power. Dissatisfied with the explanations which he
had demanded of Austria, respecting her military prepara-
tions, and which the Empress had assured him were en-
tirely defensive, he resolved to commence hostilities with-
out delay, and precipitately involved himself in a long and
hazardous war, in the course of which he acquired, indeed,
a high degree of military fame, but reduced his kingdom
to the eve of destruction. In 1756, he published his de-
claration of war against the limpress of Germany ; enter-
ed the Electorate of Saxony with an immense army ; seiz-
ed upon its revenues, magazines and archives, and pro-
ceeded to administer its offices of government, by persons
of his own appointment, as if it had already been incorpora-
ted with his own dominions. By his active and skilful
manoeuvres, he forced the Saxon army to surrender, after
defeating the Austrians under Marechal Brown, who had
advanced to its relief; but he tarnished the glory of his
victory, by cruelly compelling the Saxon troops to enter
into his service, and to fight against their own sovereign.
His ambitious and unjustifiable measures called forth the
strongest declarations trom the principal governments of
Europe ; and, as Elector of Brandenburg, he was, by a de-
cree of the Aulic council, put under the ban of the empire.
He opened the campaign of 1 757, with an army of 200,000
men; and, though the Russian, French, and Austriait
forces united against him, amounted to more than three
times that number, he poured his soldiers iijto Bohemia, be-
fore the Austrians were aware of his approach ; and, join-
ing his columns with extraortlinary rapidity, unexpectedly-
attacked, and completely defeated the enemy at Prague.
By a strict blockade, and destructive bombardment, he re-
duced the city to the utmost extremities ; and, by the joint
effect of his calculating cruelty and military skill, was on
the point of compelUng50,0')0 x\.ustrians, withhi its walls,
to surrender, when his good fortune sustain d a fatal re-
verse, and his own impetuous confidence subjected him to
a defeat. Attempting with an inferior force to dislodge
Marechal Daun, who had advanced to Collhi for the relief
of Prague, he was routed, with dreadful slaughter, and
obliged to retreat with ail his troops towards Saxony. His
favourite brother, William Augustus, a prince of great
abilities, and singularly amiable character, devotedly at-
tached to his perbon, who had repeatedly distinguished
himself in his service, having sufTered some loss in bring-
ing off' the division with which he was entrusted, and hav-

. ' This work was first published in the German language, and afterwards in French. An Ehiglish translation was priirted at Edinburirli, in
1761, in two volumes 8vo.

Vol. IX. Part II. . 3 M

458

FREDKIUCK.

ing ventured to remonstrate with I'rcderick upon the ca-
lamities of the war, was dismissed witli the most hu?Tiiliat-
ing reproaches, and driven, by the liaishiicss of his treat-
ment, to a state of the deepest melancholy, which terminat-
ed his life in the course of the followintj year.

Tiie difficulties of the Prussian monai-ch now began to
multiply with fearful accumulation. The loss of some of
his ablest generals, the junction of the Swedes with Iiis
enemies, the capture of Memcl by the Russians, the suc-
cesses of the rrcnch asjainst the I'Jectoratc of Hanover,
the progress of the Austrians in Silesia, and their entrance
into Berlin, wheie tlicy levied a contribution on the inha-
bitants, reducetl his affairs to a situation of the most critical
nature, and drove him at one time to form a design of com-
mitting suicide. He communicated his intention to his
most intimate confidant the Marquis D'Argens, in what he
called his farewell letter; but received from his friend an
immediate reply, so expressive of affection, and convincing
by its reasonings, that he was roused from despair, and ani-
mated to farther efforts. Collecting his troops, he attack-
ed the French at Kosbach; and, with very little loss on his
* side, gained a splendid victory over an army, which was
double the number of his own. Hastening by forced marches
into Silesia, where his troops were hard pressed by the
Austrians, he gave battle to the enemy at Leuthen, and,
by a disposition of his line, coinciding with that which was
made by Epaminondas at Lenctra, gained a most signal
victory, which put 4'_),000 prisoners into his hands, and
gave him complete possession of Silesia. The resolute re-
sistance which he maintained against his numerous ene-
mies, the rapidity with which he recovered his losses, the
greatness of his enterprizcs, the splendour ofhis victories,
the miiit«ry skill, mental fortitude, and personal courage,
■which he had displayed in the wiiole of tiiis memorable and
eventful campaign, attracted the attention of surrounding
nations, and gained him the ai)plause even of his oppo-
nents. Aided by a large sul)sidy from Great Britain,
where the fame of his exploits had acquired him extraor-
dinary popularity, he opened the campaign of 1758 with
the happiest pj'ospects. Entering Moravia, he attempted,
without success, to reduce the city of Olmutz ; and has-
tening to the Oder, where the Russians were committing
the greatest ravages, he routed them with great slaughter
at Zorndorf. Having returned to the Elbe, he sustained
a severe repulse from Marechal Daun at Hochkirchen in
Lusatia, where he lost Marshal Keith, and was himself
slightly wounded, but afterwards succeeded in forcing the
enemy to retire from Saxony ; and in one campaign twice
made the circuit of his dominions, relieving them all in their
turns from their formidable invaders.

In 1759, his operations were so extremely unsuccessful,
that had his enemies known as well how to improve as to
obtain victories, he must have been utterly undone. After
watching, for some time, the motions of Marechal Daun, he
hastened in person to oppose the Russians on the Oder,
and engaged them at Kunersdorf, at first wiih great advan-
tage ; but having, contrary to the advice of all his genci-als,
attempted to crush their reserve with his exhausted troops,
he suffered the severest of Ivis defeats, after having two
horses killed under him, and liis clothes penetrated in seve-
ral places wiiii musket balls. Never, however, did the re-
sources of his genius, and the fortitude ofhis spirit, appear
more remarkably, than af:cr this adverse stroke ; and aidfd
by the dissensions which prevailed between the Russians
and Austrians, he covered his capital, and kept bis pow-
eifiil ofiponents at bay during the winter. After several
unsuccessiul overtures rcspectins; pence, in which he
shewed no inclination to cede an inch of his territories, and
in which he was no farther sincere, except in hoping to

detach one or more from the confederacy, he renewed the
unequal contest with his usual spirit and perseverance.
In 1760, he had occasion for all liis ingenuity, and was
obliged to employ his tactics more than his firelocks.
Nearly surrounded by three armies, each superior in num-
ber to his own, he bafiied all their plans of attack, by
incessantly changing his positions ; and succeeded at Icngtli
in extricating himself from his difiicukies, by surprising
and defeating Laudohn at Psaffendorf, while Daun was
expecting to overwhelm him at Lignitz. He removed the
Russians out ofhis way, by causing a letter with false in-
telligence to fall into the hands of their commander ; and
thus opened his communications with Breslaw ; but was
unable to prevent a body of Austrians and Russians from
occupying Berlin, and pillaging his palaces. Still threat-
ened by hostile masses in every quarter, and perceiving
his only safety to lie in preventing their junction, he deter-
mined to commit his cause to the fate of a battle ; and after
a desperate and sanguinary conflict with Daun at Torgau,
he gained a victory which removed the most formidable
and most immediate of his dangers. Unable, however,
though sufficiently lavish of blood, to bear the loss which
even victories required, he resolved, in the campaign of
1761, to act solely on the defensive; but, at the same lime,
by often threatening an attack, to conceal the purpose
which he had adopted. He therefore entrenched his army
in a camp of singular strength near Bunzclwitz, in Silesia,
on which he set at defiance the numerous divisions of the
enemy, by which he was threatened on every side. Obli-
ged by want of provisions to change his fortified posts, he
often contrived, by distributing ammunition and preparing
his arms, to impress his opponents with the persuasion,
that he designed some daring assault ; and on one occasion
he actually kept a superior force oi Russians ahd Austrians
in such a stateof alarm, that they slept eiglit nights on their
arms, in the expectation every moment of being roused
by his approach. In 1702, though the assistance of Great
Britain was withdrawn, yet, having engaged the Tartars to
make an irruption into Hungary, and acquired a zealous
ally by the accession of Peter HI. to the Russian empire,
he was enabled to gain ground upon his enemies, and to
threaten them with invasion in their turn. Tiiough spee-
dily deprived of his Russian auxiliaries by a new levolution
at St Petersburgh, he availed himself so expeditiously of
their presence, that he entirely recovered Silesia and Sax-
ony, ravaged the frontiers of Bohemia, sent detachments
to Bamberg and Nuremburg, and spread terror to the ve-
ry gates of Ratisbon. Favoured by a variety of circum-
stances, which disposed th.e courts of V'ienna and Versailles
to open proposals of peace, he readily entered into negocia-
tions for a general pacification, which was concluded at
Huberts'oourgonFebiuary 15, 1763; and thus, after a seven
years sanguinary struggle, to which his unprincipled pro-
jects, had given rise, and in which, ind£j»ciident of other
sufferers, more than half a million of combatants had failtn
in the field, every thing was replaced on itsaiicienl fooling,
and the only gainful result was simply this, that Frederick
of Prussia had been furnished with an oppoitunity of prov-
ing himself a consummate conimaader, animated by an un-
conquerable s|)iiitof milili-.ry heroism, and endued with one
of the coolest heads and hardest hearts in Cliristendom.

Returning to h.is capital, after an absence of nearly six
years, Frederick applied himself with all his talents and
perseverance, to the internal improvement of his kingdom ;
rebuilt the towns and villages, and remunerated the indivi-
duals who had suffered during the war; and afforded every
cnco'.iragenicnt toagriculture,manufttCtures,and commerce.

But he always regarded the army as the principal object
of his aiiemioii; and in a very short time after the peace of

FREDKIllCK.

459

Hubcrlsboiirp;, his i-egiilar foi'ce amounted to 200,000 men.
Liule sci'U|juloiis in the means by which he accoinpHshed
liis schemes, he tiefi-ayed much of his expenditure by issuinsj
base money, which he compelled his subjects to take in
]>ayment ; but which he ordered his commissioners to refuse
ii« coUcctinu; the taxes. For the purpose of peopleing liis
own tcrriioiies, he carried from the ncis^libouring provinces
of Poland many thousand families ; and in order to round
his dominions, he was the ])rimc mover and most active
perpetrator of the infamous ixirtition of that country in the
year 1777. lie was not disposed, however, to tolerate
similar acts of robbery, in which he had no share ; and
when the Emperor Josojih took possession of IJavaria, he
resisted his unjust pretensions, and conducted in person
the campaign, or rather armed negotiation of 1778, which
Avas terminated by the peace of Teschen. The two last of
his public acts were the establishment, in 1785, of the
tiermanic union for preserving the constitution of the em-
pire; and a treaty of amity and commerce, in 1786, with
the United States of America.

Frederick was now seventy-four years of age, in full
possession of all his mental powers, but extremely debi-
litated in his corporeal frame. He began to suffer much
from dropsy, without being sensible, (or at least without
being willing to allow,) that he was afHicted with that dis-
order. He nevertheless continued his attention to public
business, without the smallest interruption. Rising at
four o'clock every morning, he employed himself several
hours with hi« three principal secretaries, reading dispatch-
es, dictating answers, and directing the most miiuite trans-
actions of his government. The governor of Potsdam then
attended about eight o'ciock to receive his orders respect-
ing the daily duly of the garrison. He next admitted a
jfhysician for a few minutes to give direction respecting his
health. He then conversed with his friends uritil mid-day,
when he generally dined alone. In the afternoon he signed
the dispatches and letters, which he had dictated in tlie
morning. He joined his friends again in conversation
from five to eight o'clock in the evening; and after their
departure, listened to passages from ancient authors till he
retired to rest. In this course of labour he persevered till
two days before his death ; although for several weeks
preceding, he was so swollen with the dropsy, that he
could not move without assistance, and was obliged to re-
inain day and night in his chair. Though he suffered
dreadfully, he betrayed no symptom of uneasiness or im-
]>atience; but conversed with great composure on general
subjects, and without ever alluding to his own state of
health. On the 16th of August he was deprived of sense,
while his friends were reading to him from Cicero and
Plutarch; and on the morning of the I7Lh, he exjiired
without any convulsive motion, in the 75th yeai' of his age,
and the 47lh of his reign.

Frederick, in his person, was below the middle stature,
and of a slight form, but possessed of a vigorous constitu-
ti'jn. In his earlier years his figure was graceful ; but in
the latter part of his life, in consequence of incessint fatigue,
or ss some suppose of liis incessanf custom of n)aking
extremely low bows, he stooped considerably, aJid his head
was iricliiicd to one side. He was short-sighted, and his
eyes were of a fine blue colour, but full of fire, and ex-
pressive of uncommon keenness and penetration. His lone
of voice was extremely clear and agreeable ; and he spoke
wiihthe utmost fluency and sprightliness. He was, especi-
ally ill the latter part of his life, a great economist, or ratiier
unco:T.monly shabby in his dress, which was usually a plain
suit of regimentals, consisting of a blue coat facfed with
red, and yehow w-ais'.coat and breeches. He always wore
boots-, which being rarc-Jy renewed, were generally of a

dirty brown colour. His hair was simply queued, and he
had no other mark of distinction than the order of thf' black
eagle. His whole wardrobe, says l)r Moore, to whom it
was shewn at Potsdam, consisted of tv/o blue coals facctl
with red, the lining of one a little torn ; two yellow waist-
coats a good deal soiled with Spanish siuifV; three pair ot
yellow breeches, and a suit of blue velvet, enibroiderecl
with silver, for grand occasions.. I imagined at first, that
the mail had got a few of the king's old clothes, and kept
them here to amuse strangers; but upon cnt|uiry I was
assured, that what I have mentioned, with two suits of
uniform which he has at Sans Souci, forms the entire
wardrobe of the King of Prussia. Our attendant said he
had never known it more complete. When residing at
Berlin, and particularly on public days, he made a great
disjilay of royal magnificence; but his ordinary mode of liv-
ing was remarkably plain and uniform. His usual place
of residence was the palace at Sans Souci, about a mile from
Potsdam. His bed-chambttr was beautifully furnished, and
provided with the appearance of a rich state-bed ; but ho
always slept in a concealed bedstead, upon a hard mattress.
He rose generally at five o'clock in the morning, and
sometimes earlier. He dressed his hair himself, seldom
employing above two minutes for that purpose ; and pulled
on his boots at his bed side, never using either shoes or slip-
pers. As soon as he v/as dressed, the adjutant of his first
battalion of guards brought him a list of all the persons
who had arrived at Potsdam or departed thence, with an
account of any occurrences in the garrison. Having de-
livered his orders to this officer, he retired to an inner
cabinet till seven o'clock. He then went into anotheu
apartment, where he drank coffee or chocolate, and peru-
sed his letters; and these, as he seldom received the most
trifling proposal or petition except in writing, were always
numerous. Having written noUs on the margins of those
which his secretaries were to answer, he carried with him
such as he meant to answer himself, and continued with
one of his private secretaries writing or dictating till nine
o'clock, when he returned to the former apartment, where
he was attended by three secretaries, and received their
communications, or delivered to them his orders. At ten
o'clock, the generals in attendance were admitted to his
closet, where he conversed with them, or gave private
audiences. At eleven he rode to the parade, where he re-
viewed his regiment of guards, and at the same hour all
his colonels throughout the provinces were employed in
the same manner. He then walked in the garden with the
principal officers, and the rest of the company who were
invited to dinner. At one, he sat down to table, seldom
with more than twentj'-four persons, and seldom occupying
more than an hour. After rising from table, and conversing
about a cjuartcr of an hour with his guests, he retired to his
jjiivale apartment, where he remained till five o'clock,
when his reader wailed upon him, who v/as generally one
of his friends ; and after reading about two hours, he join-
ed in a musical concert till nine. He was then attended by
a few of liis learned friends -and favourite wits, whom he
had invited to supper, and with whom he indulged in the
utmost freedom of conversation till twelve, when he went
to bed. Afterwards he omitted these suppers, and spent a
longer tinie at diiiner, where he used to cat with good appe-
tite, and was particularly nice in regard to fruit. He was
not less fond of Spanish snuff, of which he was accustomed
to take immoderate quantities ; and used a large golden
snuff-box, richly ornamented with diamonds. lie was
much attached to dogs, and had generallv beside him two
or three Italian greyhounds, which he often caressed, and
even kept small leather balls in his rooms in order to amuse
therii. He took Utile plcasui'c" in Uie comjiuay of ladies, and
3 M 2

460

lllEDERICK.

rarely invited them to his private parlies. His great and
daily amiisemcni consisted in musical concerts, at which
he performed on the Ihitc ; but lie confined himscU' chielly
to his own compositions, and tiiose of his instructor Quantz;
and even endeavoured, with liis usual despotism, to regulate
the musical taste of his subjects by authority.

His literary acquisitions, when compared '.villi the dis-
advantages of his education, were consideraljle ; but were,
in a great measure, confined to the belles L-ttres,, and to
moral science. He ])ossessed little knowledge of the Greek
and Latin languages; and his acquaintance with classi-
cal authors was derived piincipally through the medi-
um of French translations. Uesidcs the works which
have been already mentioned, he wrote letters on patriot-
ism and on German literature ; and left behind him in manu-
script, Jilcmcirs of /lis own Time, from the Year 1740 to

the Peace of Dresden 4 History of the War of Seven

Years — and A History of the Transactions from the Peace
of Hubersburg ; which were published after his death. His
poetical compositions, consisting of his poem on the art of
■war, with a variety of odes and epistles, are collected
under the title of Ouvres melees du Philosofihe de Sans Souci.
He displayed, in his capacity of a ruler, more of perso-
nal ability than of political wisdom. He was constantly
aiming at the aggrandisement of his dominions, whicii he
never hesitated to accomplish by tlie most unprovoked hos-
tilities and unprincipled usurpations. He devoted, indeed,
the last twenty years of his life to promote the prosperity
of his subjects; but always upon ptinciples of despotism,
and in subserviency to aijibitious schemes. In attention to
his army, his governir.ent, and the internal policy of his
kingdom, he was probably the most indefatigable sove-
reign that ever existed. His vigilance was unremitting,
liis industry unwearied. Every department of government
■was under his own immediate inspection; and the most
minute particulars did not escape his observation. He
conceived himself capalile of every tiling, and despised
the talents of others. His numerous nominal counsellors
he never consulted ; and to his various ministers of state
he delegated no portion of superintending power; but he
would direct and almost perform every thing himself. This
intermeddling and coiitrouling spirit was the great error of
his administration ; and rendered many of his financial and
commercial plans more pernicious than profitable to his
people. He interfeied even in jtidicial proceedings and li-
terary questions ; and made himself the supreme review-
ing tribunal in all matters of equity and taste. He intro-
duced a kind of military mechanism into every deparment ;
and " was constantly working mischief by working too
much." It was at the iiead of an army, that his talents
appeared to the greatest advantage ; and he must be ac-
knowledged to have been the most accomplished v/arriorof
modern times. He possessed an extensive knowledge of
military science ; and is ranked next to Maurice, Prince
of Orange, and Gustavus Adolphus, as an inventor in the
modern art of war. He introduced the use of flying artil-
lery, and improved the oblicjue or angular order of battle,
of which he profoundly studied the principles, and skilfully
illustrated the efficacy, in not less than forty-two engage-
ments, lie was eminently distinguished by the prompti-
tude and energy with v/hich he executed his plans ; and
■was always sure to prevail wherever active exertion could
ensure success. His personal intrepidity, his astonishing
presence of mind in the moment of danger, and his patient
endurance of hardships and privations, could not be sur-
passed ; and in all his severest reverses, he discovered a
mind that could not he subdued. Yet, with all his great
endowments, there was little hi his character to make him
either amiable as a man, or venerable as a sovereign. Many

of his laults may, no doubt, be traced to the despotic senti-
ments in which he was educated, and the military habits in
which he lived ; but tlicre arc trails in his character, which
incontestably demonstrate, that his superior powers of in-
tellect were united with a radical littleness of mind. His
parsimony, ingratitude, cruelty, and injustice, are proved
by a thousand instances. He examined every evening the
bill of fare for nest day's dinner, squabbling with his do-
mestics about the pi ices of every arliclc, and paying with
his own hands the expences of his kitchen, staldcs, 8cc.
He never bestowed one smile of favour upon the relatives
of his friend De Call, who had sacrificed himself in his
behalf. To the family of the Wrechs, who had befriended
him in his imprisonment at the risk of their lives, he
neither repaid the sums which they had pinched them-
selves to raise for his accommodation, nor distinguished
them by any act of patronage. He broke the heart of his
amiable brother, William Augustus, by harsh usage ; and
ruined the health and happiness of his youngest sister
Amelia, by his barbarous persecution of her lover Trenck.
He lavished, with unfeeling prodigality, the blood of his
soldiers ; and dismissed in time of peace his bravest offi-
cers, because they were not of noble extraction ; though
he had invited them to enter the army when he needed
their services. He uniformly quarrelled with his most in-
timate associates ; and often discarded, with the harshest
injustice, those who had most faithfully spent their lives
in his service. He commanded his favourite Secretary
Galser to coin fifteen millions of ducats with an alloy of
one-third of base metal ; and, when the matter was disco-
vered, he punished the unfortunate secretary with disgrace
and banishment, as the author of the fraud.

He treated his literary companions and dependants with
insolent familiarity, making them the butts of his sarcastic
raillery ; and, after encouraging them to similar freedoms,
suddenly silencing them with his kingly authority, or with
the most passionate abuse, and sometimes even with kicks
and blows. He delighted to indulge in the most impious
discussions; and bestowed the highest marks of his favour
upon the most atheistical blasphemers. His general spirit,
in short, was selfish and unfeeling; and, though he wished
for the praise of virtue, he was ready to sacrifice every
consideration to the love of fame, especially to the attain-
ment of military renown. His intellectual powers, how-
ever eminent, were at least of that inferior order, which
can submit to be guided by profligacy of principle, and
stoop to seek assistance, from dishonourable means. His
abilities thus often appeared much greater than they were
in reality ; because, when wisdom failed, he had recourse
to wickedness, and accomplished objects which would have
baffled others, not because they were weaker, but because
they were better men. Such, in fact, is often the chief su-
periority possessed by those who have received the appel-
lation of Great ; a " title, which is the less honourable, that
mankind have generally agreed to bestow it where grati-
tude was least of all due." See Gillies' Vievj of the Reign
of Frederick II. of Prussia; To'tuer's Memoirs of the Life
and Reign of Frederick of Prussia ; Thiebault, Memoires
de Frederick le Grand ; Johnson's Memoirs of the King of
Prussia ; Baron IJielfeld's Letters ; Observations on the
Military Establishment of the King of Prussia, with an Ac-
count of his private Life ; the King of Prussia's Campaigns,
ivritten by an Officer, and translated from the French ; An-
ecdotes and Characteristics of Frederick the Great ; Ries-
beck's Travels in Germany ; Thomson's Military Memoirs;
Voltaire's Idee du Roi de Prttsse. (7)

FREE Masonry. See Mysteries.

FREEZING. See Cold.

FRESCO Painting. See Painting.

FRI

461

FRIBOUHG, or Fiubuhg, a Inwn ol' S\VitzeflaiKl, anrl
the capital of a canlon ol" l;je samt; riumo, is siuiaiecl partly
on a horizontal [jlaiie on tlie banks of ihu Sariuc or Saanc,
and partly on llic declivity of a ridge of ruijgcd rocks,
which i'onn a singular contrast with th<; walls of the town
and the towers of its convents and churclies. VViien a
stranger asf-cnds the street of the (ircat Fountain, in
coming from the Bams des Irois Sunxes, he can scarcely
persuade himself that he is in the middle of a large town.
The fortifications of Friliourg, consisting of lofty walls and
towers, are about four miles in circumference, and inclose
a large space, a great part of which is occupied with gar-
dens and orchards. The descent to the town is on all sides
extremely steep, and the street of the Great Fountain forms
the roofs of the houses of the Court-chemin. A communi-
cation is made between the two parts of the town by three
bridges, from whicli there are very picturesque views.
The most advantageous stations, from which an idea may
be formed of the extraordinary situation of Fribourg, are
the top of Schonenberg ; the meadow situated beyond the
crucifix, which is seen in going out by the gate of Bour-
guillon ; and the meadow which extends behind the Place
d'^nnes, near the gate of Romont.

Tiie houses of Fribourg, wdnch are raised above each
other in regular gradation, are built with a grey sandstone
from an adjacent quarry, and are in general neat and well
built, though the town has a dull appearance. In the mid-
dle of the principal square is the celebrated lime-tree, of
great size and beauty, which is said to have been planted
there on the 22d of June 1476, by a soldier, on his retiu'n
from the battle of Mcrat. For some years, this venerable
tree has been losing its vigour. The town-house is an an-
cient edifice, which was built on the spot wlierethe palace
of the Dukes of Zuhringul formerly stood. The cathedral
church, dedicated to St Nicholas, was founded in 1283. Its
tower is 356 feet high, being the highest in Switzerland.
The bells are reckoned the finest in the country. The
ci-devant college of the Jesuits, situated in the highest
part of the town, afTords, from its lofty towers, some of the
finest and most extensive views. The other objects of in-
terest at Fi'ibourg arc, the gate of Bourgillon, situated be-
tween two precipices ; the principal altar of the cliurch of
the convent of Augustins ; the great reservoirs situated
near the college of Jesuits ; the mill of Motta, opposite to
the convent of INIaigrange ; and the defile of Golteron.
The cabinet of natural history belonging to M. Fontaine;
the library, pictures, minerals, and philosophical instru-
ments belonging to M. Joseph Praroman ; the collection
of books and MSS. relative to the history of Switzerland,
belonging to M. Ignacc Gady ; and the small botanic gar-
den of M. Odet, are worthy of the notice of travellers.

There is at Fribourg a seminary of priests ; a gymna-
sium ; schools for young jjersons in tlie convents of the
Ursulines, and the Visitandines, and other inferior schools
kept by the Franciscans and the Capuchins. There are 28
public fountains in Fribourg, of which the water is excel-
lent. The inhabitants of the lower town, however, were
formerly much afilicted with the goitre necks, but the dis-
ease is now less general.

The line of demarcation between the Gertnan and French
languages passes through Fribourg. The inhabitants of
the lower parts of the town speak German, and those in
the higher parts French, while the two languages are con-
founded in the middle of the town.

The principal manufactures of Fribourg are hats, can-
dles, b»er, earthenware, cotton cloths, 5ic. The chief pro-

menades are in the square [planted with li.mcs, and in the
Place d'.\rmes. Population G,0'JO. East Long. 6° 48', and
North Lat. 46° 50'.

FRIBOURG, Cavton of. See Switzerland.

FRICTION. See Mechanics.

FRIFULAND, Battle of. See France.

FRIENDLY Islands, are situated in the eastern part
of the Pacific Ocean, and lie lictwecn \(i'° and 21 A° South
Latitude, and between 176'' 30' and 183° 50' East Longi-
tude. Their name expresses the firm alliance subsistiijg
among their inhabitants, and the courteous behaviour which
they testify towards strangers. Their number exceeds 1 50,
but the greater part are mere rocks and shoals, or barren
and desert spots. Nearly one hali^ however, are of consi-
derable size, but the situation and extent of a few oidy have
been ascertained. Sixty-one are marked on Captain Cook's
chart, and the principal information concerning them is to
be found in his voyages.

The most important are, Tonga, Tongataboo, or Amster-
dam, discovered by Tasman in 1612, is situated in 21' 9'
South Latitude, and 175° 1' West Longitude. It is rather
of an oblong form, bearing some resemblance to an isosce-
les triangle, stretching in length frotn east to west, broadest
at the east end, and about 20 leagues in circumference. It
is a low land, nearly all of an equal height, never rising
more than 80 feet above the level of the sett; and is sur-
rounded by a reef of coral rocks, extending about 100 fa-
thoms from the shore, and breaking the force of the sea be-
fore it reaches the land. A deep lagoon on the north coast,
forms a secure and capacious harbour with a good bottom,
but there is great scarcity of good fresh water in all these
islands. This kind of rock appears also to be the basis of
the island, as scarcely any other stone is seen either on the
coast or in the interior. The rock projects in many places
above the surface, but the soil is generally of a considera-
ble depth, and in the cultivated parts is a loose black mould,
apparently produced by decayed vegetables. The surface
at a distance appears to be clothed with trees of dilTerent
sizes ; but the tufted heads of the cocoa palms produce the
most striking effect. The largest tree is a species of fig;
and the most common bushes on the uncultivated spots,
are the pandanus, saitanoo, and several sorta of hibiscus.
Though the climate is more variable than in countries far-
ther within the line of the tropic, yet the foliage is only
shed by degrees, every leaf as it falls being succeeded by
another; and though the country exhibits little of that land-
scape beauty, which is produced by a variety of hills and
vallies, yet it is well laid out in plantations, and altogether
presents the appearance of perpetual spring, and exube-
rant fertility. It abounds in the richest productions of na-
ture; cocoa nut trees, bread fruit, plantains of fifteen varie-
ties, bananocs, shaddocks, sugar-cane, a kind of plum, fig,
and nectarine, yams while and black, the latter of which
weigh from 20 to 30 pounds, gourds, Jesuits bark, bamboo,
&c. and an innumerable list of uncultivated plants. The
only quadrupeds are hogs, dogs, rats, and small lizards."
The land birds, besides large domestic fowls, are pigeons,
turtledoves, parrots, parroquets, cuckoos, king's fishers,
rails, coots, fly-catchers, swallows ; large bats, measuring
from three to four feet between the tips of the wings when
extended ; a kind of green-coloured thrush, the only sing-
ing bird observed in the island ; and several smaller birds.
The water fowl are ducks, tropic-birds, herons, noddies,
terns, small curlew, and large spotted plover. Nearly fifty
different sorts of insects have been noticed, particularly very
large spiders, and the most beautiful moths and butterflies;

• M. Dentrecasteaux was informed in 1793, that the horses and cows left by Captain Cook were all dead ; but found.that the hogs had
been greatly improved by the cross with those of Europe, some of them weighing not less than 200 pounds.

462

FRIENDLY ISLANDS.

asid of the reptile tribe, sea siial;cs about three tcct loii^j,
scorpions, cciuipedes, ami gumiocs. The variety of fish
is iiot so great as might be imagined ; and tlic most
common are mullets, silver lish, old wives, parrot fisli,
soles, leather jackets, albicorcs, bonnelos, eels, pike, and
devil fish; but there is yreat abundance of shell fish about
the reefs and shoals, especially huge cockles, pearl shell
and some other oysters, (but none of the common sort,)
coues, crabs, ci-ay fish, sea eggs, curious kinds of star fish.
There are no towns or villages on the island, and the houses
are built in the midst of separate plantations. These plan-
tations are enclosed by fences of reeds about six feet high,
and these inclosures called Abbeys, frequently contain four
or five houses. Smaller spaces round each habitation, are
called Ladores.

Eooa, named by Tasman Middleburgh, lies to the south
east of Tongataboo, in 21° 24' South Latitude, and 174°
30' West Longitude. It is of an oval form, about 12
leagues in circuit, of greater height than any of the neigh-
bouring islands, and presents a more varied and delightful
aspect. The coasts are shaded with a variety of trees,
among which the houses and plantations are scattered ; but
the interior parts are little cultivated, and possess a high
degree of natural beauty. The south-cast side rises im-
mediately from the sea with great inequalities, and is ra-
ther hilly, though not mountainous. The plains and mea-
dows lie towards the north-west, and are covered with long
grass, interspersed with groves of trees at ii regular distan-
ces, with occasional plantations and numerous paths, in
every direction, and in beautiful disorder. This island,
like Tongataboo, and indeed most of the tropical isles in
the Pacific Ocean, is surrounded with coral rocks; but
there is good anchorage, called by Cook, English road, on
the north-west side, with convenient landing for boats at all
times of the tide.

Annamooka, named Rotterdam by Tasman, lies in 20°
46' South Latitude, and 185° 12' East Longitude. It is a
small triangular island, each side of which is nearly four
miles in length, and is the most known of a cluster called
Arbai. All the rocks and stones are coral, except in one
place, where a large mass of calcareous stone, of a yellow-
ish colour, was observed. In the centre of the island is a
salt water lake, about a mile and a half in breadth, which
lias no apparent communication with the sea ; but there
IS not a single stream of fresh water to be found in any
part of it, and only a few brackish springs too small for wa-
tering a ship. There is a considerable proportion of waste
land on the island : and its inhabitants are much affected
■with a kind of leprosy, or scrofulous disorder, which chiefly
attacks the face ; but in its productions, and in other re-
spects, it greatly resembles Tongataboo.

Hapaee islands, namely IIaanno,Foa, Lefooga, and Hoola-
■wa, lie in 19° South Latitude. They are vtry low land, ex-
tremely similar to each other in appe-.irance, and each of
them about six or seven miles in length. Lefooga, which
lies in the centre, is superior in point of cultivation to An-
namooka, and many of its plantations are inclosed in such
a manner, that the fences running parallel to each other
form spacious public roads. These islands are joined to
each other by a reef of coral rocks, which are dry at low
water, when the natives can walk on foot from the one lo
the other.

Mayorga, a group of islands about 100 miles north-we.st
of Hapaee, was discovered in 1781, by the Spanish navigator
]Maurelle; and were visited by Captain Edwards in 1791,
who named them Howu's islands.' The largest is nearly

as extensive as Taiigalaboo, fertile and well cultivated, af-
fording all the vegetable productions of these latitudes
and particularly stored with tiie cloth plant.

Neootabootaboo, and Kootal.fc, situated in South Latitude
15° 55', and 173° 48' West Longitude, were discovered by
Schouttn and Lemaire in 1616. The former is one of the
larger islands in these seas, fertile and populous. They
were visited by Captain Wallis in 1767, who called them
Keppel'sand Uoscawen's islands; and in 1787 by Perouse,
with w horn the natives traded very freely, but had a more
ferocious appearance than the more southern islanders.

Toofoa, or Ainattafoa, is situated about 12 leagues north
northwest from Annamooka, and is about five leagues in
circumference. It is thiidy inhabited, but was reported to
afford excellent water. It is chiefly remarkable as contain-
ing a volcano, the smoke of which was seen by Captain
Cook at ten leagues distance ; and which was described by
the natives of the adjoining islands, as having been observ-
ed to ascend without intermission as far back as their me-
mory and traditions could reach. They added, that it
sometimes threw up large stones. It was at this island
that Captain Bligh, after the mutiny of his crew, attempt-
ing with 18 of his people to procure a supply of bread,
fruit, and water, was attacked by the natives, who killed one
man, and wounded almost every individual of his company.

Three very considerable islands, or rather groups, were
described to Captain Cook, larger than any yet mentioned,
but they are still very imperfectly known to Europe-
ans. Their names are Hamoa, Vavaoo, and Feejee. Ha-
mao, which is two days sail north-west from Vavaoo, :s
said to be the largest of all the islands, affording safe har-
bours, good water, and all the refreshments produced in
the other places. Vavaoo, or Afootouou, is the name not
of one but of a group of islands, of which little is known,
except that they are abundantly stored with hogs. Feejee,
which is three days sail from Tongataboo, in the direction
of north-west by west, and which is surrounded by a clus-
ter of islands, abounds in hogs, dogs, fowls, and all the
fruits and other vegetables found in these islands. Its
breed of dogs are very numerous, and from them had been
procured the few which were seen at Tongataboo, where
they were not introduced till after 1773, and from which
they had not been sent to any of the other islands in 1777.
The natives of Feejee* are of a darker colour than those
of the other friendly islands ; more formidable in war, by
their dexterity in the use of bows and slings; more savage
in their manners, especially in the practice of eating the
enemies whom they kill in battle; and more ingenious "in
their articles of workmanship, of which Captain Cook saw
several specimens ; such as variegated mats, earthen pots,
beautifully chequered cloth, and clubs and speai's covered
with great ingenuity. These islands of Feejee appear to
be the same which Tasman named Prince William's Isles,
and were explored both by Captain Bligh in the Providence
1792, and by Captain Wilson in the Duff 1795. They
reach northward as far as 15° 33' of Latitude, and south
to 19° 15', and lie in 178° West Longitude. Captain Bar-
ber in the snow Arthur, visited the western part of the
group in 1794, and was attacked by a number of the na-
tives in canoes, who attempted to board the ship, and
v.'ounded several of the crew with their arrows.

All tlicse islands which have been described, and all
those which form the archipelago named Friendly, are un-
der the government of one king, excepting Feejee, which is
supposed to have become but recently known to the others,
a;id whose warlike inhabitants, scarcely yet subdued, are

* The most recent account of the Feejee islanders, is furnished by wi extract from the Sydncv Gazette, published in the Scotch Maga-
mk for ISIO, p. 601.

FRIKNDLY ISLXNF.S.

-IGS

greatly dreaded, and their friendship carefully cuUivatcd by
the other islanders, The capital and seat of government
is TonG;atubon ; but the king resides occasionally on the
other islands, particularly Uainoa, the inhabitants of which
appear to be held in great estimation. The king was said
to possess unbounded authority, and to have the absolute
disposal of the lives and property of his subjects ; but
there appeared rather to be a kind of subordination, similar
to the feudal system which formerly prevailed in Europe,
as the more potent chiefs acted the part of petty sovereigns
among their respective followers, and frequently counter-
acted the measures of the monarch. Tongataboo is divided
into nutnerous districts, each of which has its proper chief,
who dispenses justice, and decides disputes within his
own territory, and who generally possess estates in the other
islands, from Vvhich they receive supplies of provisions.
'I'his island is called by the natives the Land of Chiefs,
while the subordinate isles arc stigmatized with the appel-
lation of Lands of Servants. Its ordinary name also,
Tongataboo, signifies the Sacred Isle, because it is the re-
sidence of the Duatonga, the head of a lamily, supposed
to have come originally from the sky,* and who seems to
Irold the station of high priest. The king bears the title
of Tooe Tonga, according to Cook ; but according to later
narratives, Duganaboota. The utmost order and decorum
are observed in his presence, and in that of the other chiefs.
Whenever he sits doAvn, all the attendants scat themselves
before him in the form of a semicircle, leaving a sufficient
space between them and him, into which no one, unless he
has particular business, presumes to come. When any
person wishes to address his majesty, he comes forward,
and seats himself before him, delivering in a few words
uhat he has to say. In direct opposition to European man-
ners, it is accounted the greatest rudeness for any one to
stand while he speaks to a superior ; and even when the
king is walking along, all who meet him must sit down till
he has passed. When it is intended to do homage more di-
rectly, either to the sovereign or the chiefs, the person who
pays the obedience squats down before the superior, bows
liishead to the sole of the prir.ce's foot, which he touches
with the under and upper side of the fingers of each hand,
and then rising up retires. The crown is hereditary ; but
it was mentioned to Captain Cook by the reigning king,
that if he were to fail in his duties, the collective body of
the chiefs and the people would authorise the commander
of the forces to depose him, and put hira to death. This
very prince dying before his son was of age, the sove-
reignty was wrested out of his family by a powerful chief,
after it had continued about 140 years in one line.

The king seems to bo considered as lord of the soil,
and upon him devolves the landed property of every sub-
ject at his death ; but it is customary for the sovereign to
grant the estate to the eldest son of the deceased, upon
condition of providing for the other children. The difier-
ent classes of the chiefs are very numerous ; but few of
them possess extensive districts of territory. They are
called by the people, " the lords of tlie earth ;" and exer-
cise a despotic authority over their respective vassals. The
most profound silence and respectful attention arc observ-
ed wlien any of them addresses a body of their dependants :
and no syniptoms. of dissatisfaction or disobedience were
ever perceived among the latter. Every tiling in their
possession is considei'ed as belonging to the chief, who
takes from them without ceremony whatever he may need.
However scanty their supply of provisions, they are requir-

ed to cook a portion of it for his use ; and, in a time of
scarcity, he ol'ten sends his aitendanls roujid the district,
with orders for a certain quantity to be prepared in a li-
mited time, which lie stores up for himself and his house-
hold, while the wretched people arc reduced to subsist on
the coarsest roots, or to beg back a little of their own fruits,
to keep them from starving. Nor do the lower classes
merely labour for themselves and their respective chiefs,
but they are frequently sent, as a species of tax or tribute
from their lords, to work on the lands of the sovereign ;
and, in addition to all these arbitrary exactions, they are
treated by their superiors with the utmost harshness and
brutality.

The inhabitants of the Fi iendly islands acknowledge a
supreme divinity residing in the heavens, and directing the
elements ; but they worship at the same time a plurality
of deities, each of whom has a peculiar administration, one
presiding over the wind, another over the sea, another over
the rain. Sec. They ascribe earthquakes to the motions of
a giant, who supports their island on his shoulders ; and,
as they imagine the shaking to be occasioned by his be-
coming drowsy, they hasten to shout as loudly as possible,
and to beat the ground with sticks, in order to rouze him-,
lest by his stumbling through sleep, he should throw the
island from his shoulders. Each district also worships its
appropriate god ; and even every individual is supposed to
have a particular spirit attending him, who sends afflictions
and maladies when he is displeased, and, when irreconcile-
able, occasions death itself. To render him propitious,
the relations or dependants of the patient frequently wound
themselves, or cut off their little finger, and sometimes
even some of his wives, children, or domestics are put to
death. They consider the power of their deities as con-
fined to the present life, and their evil deeds as meeting
always with punishment upon earth. Hence they employ
every method to render them propitious, applying to ther»
for a continuance of plenty, and supplicating their aid in
time of suffering. They solemnly implore the blessing of
the supreme divinity when they plant their crops, and ex-
press their gratitude when they gather them. Hence there
is an annual assembly of the chiefs of Tongataboo, and of
all the neighbouring islands, at the dwelling of Duatonga,
the high priest, to offer the first fruits of their fields to
him, as the minister and representative of the god who
causes fertility. They do not appear to worship any visi-
ble part of creation, or any idols formed by their own hands;
nor do they offer any animal victims, although on certain
occasions they sacrifice human beings.

They have no priests, but every man presents his owji
offering. They discover a wonderfully just idea of the im-
mortality of the soul, and in some degree also of its immate-
rial nature. They believe, that immediately after the death
of the body, the souls of the chiefs are swiftly conveyed to
a distant island, where they are no longer subject to death,
where every kind of food is spontaneously produced, and
where they enjoy perpetual peace and abundance, under
the protection of the supreme divinity. The lower class-
es, however, are supposed to have no share in this future
bliss, and seldom speculate on the subject ; but their souls
are considered as either eaten up by a bird which watches
their graves for that purpose, or as doomed to suffer a kind
of transmigration into other bodies. Among these super-
Ktilious practices may be mentioned the " taboo," altiiough
it may probably be nothing more than a political regula-
tion. The word is used with great latitude of meaning,

• The missioniiries were i:i like manner called by the natives of Ton^atabon, « The men of the sky ;" because observing that the sky
appeared to touch the ocean in the distant horizon, and knowing that they came from a great distance', they concluded th.it they must have
come through the sky to arrive at their inland.

464.

FRIENDLY ISLANDS,

but seems tosiijnilV " pi'oUibilcd," oi- sst apart from com-
mon use. A house becomes tabooed by the king's pre-
sence, and can no Ioniser be inhabited by the owner; and
hence there are generally houses provided in every quar-
ter for the use of his majesty. A space of ground may be
tabooed, and all persons are then interdicted from passing
over it. Any article of food may be tabooed by the offi-
cer who has the proper authority, so as to be withdrawn
from use for a given time. By assisting at a funeral, or
touching a dead body, tlic hands are tabooed, and cannot be
employed in taking food ; so that the person thus circum-
stanced is fed by others. Women are in this state on cer-
tain occasions, till they can have an opportunity of paying
obeisance to the king ; and even the act of paying obei-
sance occasions the hands to become tabooed, till they are
washed in water, or by rubbing on them some juicy i)lant.
The word also signifies sacred, or eminent, and is applied
to the king of the Sandwich Islands, who is called Eree-
taboo, and to the residence of the king of the Friendly Isl-
ands, Tonga-taboo.

As cultivated roots and fruits form the chief subsistence
of these islanders, they are all employed in husbandry, in
■which they have attained a considerable degree of skill.
Their plantations are generally surrounded with neat
fences, and divided into separate plots, some of which are
planted for ornament, but are chiefly occupied in raising
articles of food. The principal of these are the bread-fruit
and cocoa-nut trees, which are dispersed without any or-
der, and soon require little attention ; the sugar-cane, which
is usually crowded into small spots, without any order ; the
mulberry, from which cloth is made, which is allowed an
open space, and kept very clean ; the pandanus, planted
in close rows at the sides of the fields; the yams and plan-
tains, which are put into the ground with great exactness,
so as to form squares in every direction. The instruments
used for the purpose are nothing more than wooden stakes,
flattened and sharpened at one end ; and sometimes the
largest have a short piece fixed transversely, by means of
which they press the implement into the ground with the
foot. With these stakes they make small holes for the
reception of the roots, and then dig up the surrounding
grass. Notwithstanding, however, the fineness of the cli-
mate, and the fertility of the soil, there generally occurs
a period of scarcity before the gathering of the new fruits,
which may be owing to the improvidence of the natives,
the deficiency of the produce, or the diiiiculty of preserv-
ing it ; and sometimes to the prevalence of insurrections,
preventing cultivation, so as often to produce an actual
famine.

Though there is no community of goods among them,
it is the custom to apply freely for provisions to tliose who
have plenty ; and it would be accounted a gross breach of
hospitality to refuse, wdiile any stores remained. Should
any one be sitting with his family at meat before his house,
a stranger passing by will sit down among them without
ceremony, and expect a share of the meal.

The houses of the natives are constructed with little in-
genuity or taste, and are, properly speaking, nothing more
than thatched roofs or sheds, supported by posts and raf-
ters. Tiie fioor is raised with earth, smoothed and level-
led, and covered with thick matting. Some of them are
open on all sides, but generally they are enclosed on the
weather side with strong mats, or branches of the cocoa-
nut tree interwoven with each other. A thick mat, about
three feet broad, bent into ti semicircular form, placed
edgewise, and sometimes fastened to the beams, encloses
a space as a bed-room for the master of the family and his
wife; while the rest sleep upon any piirt of the floor, the
unmai'iied men and v.omcn lying in different places; and

if the household is large, there are little huts adjoining for
the ciiildren and seivants. The habitations of the lower
class arc only wretched hovels, scarcely sufllcient to shel-
ter them from the weather; but those of the chiefs arc
more comfortable and commodious, their ordinary dimen-
sions being about 12 feet in height, 20 in breadth, and 30
in length. The house of the second chief in Tongataboo
was 50 feet in length, and of an oval form. One large and
lofty post was fixed in the centre, and an oval ring of lesser
ones were planted round it at equal distances, forming the
sides of the building. Upon those posts, layers were fixed,
and from these, rafters were extended to the pillar in the
middle, thus uniting the whole edifice. The inside of the
roof was ornamented with beautiful matting, which was
protected by an outer thatch of plantain branches, interwo-
ven like basket work. In rainy weather, screens of mat-
ting, made of the cocoa tree, were fastened to the outer
posts, but the door-way was left open night and day. The
floor was covered with beautiful matting, of so close a tex-
ture as to be impervious to insects. Tlie furniture gene-
rally consists of some wooden stools, which are used as
pillows; two or three wooden bowls for holding their fa-
vourite liquor kava ; baskets of different sizes, into which
they put their tools, fish-hooks, kc. ; a bundle or two of
cloth, a few gourds, and cocoa-nut shells.

They discover more ingenuity in the construction and
ornaments of their canoes, which are the most perfect of
their mechanical productions, and wliich surpass in neat-
ness of workmanship all others in the South Sea. They
are built of several planks of the bread-fruit tree, se*n
together with cocoa-nut line in so neat a manner, that they
appear on the outside as if they were composed of one so-
lid piece. The fastenings arc all on the inside, and pass
through kants or ridges, wrought on purpose on the edges
and ends of the diflerent boards. They are of two kinds,
double and single. The single canoes are fiom 20 to 50
feet in length, about 22 inches broad in the middle, and 18
inches deep, with the head resembling the point of a wedge,
and the stern terminating in a blunter point. At each end
is a kind of deck, extending one third of the whole length ;
but they are open in the middle. They have all out rig-
gers, and are sometimes navigated with sails, but more
generally with paddles, the blades of which are short, and
broadest in the middle. The double canoes are composed
of two vessels, about 60 or 70 feet long, 4 or 5 broad in
the middle, and 3 deep, exclusive of the deck. Tliescare
fastened together, about six or seven feet asunder, by strong
cross beams, secured by bandages to risings on the open
middle spaces, and ever these is laid a boarded platform.
They are rigged with one mast, with steps upon the plat-
form, which can easily be raised or taken down ; and are
navigated by a latteen or a triangular sail of mat, extend-
ed by a long yard, a little bent or crooked. On the plat-
form is generally erected a little shed or hut for the mas-
ter and his family; and these frequently contain a movea-
ble fire-hearth, composed of a shallow square trough, fill-
ed with stones. Tnese vessels are capable of carrying
about 50 persons, and sail at a great rate. They are titled
both for burden and distant navigation, and can scarcely
sink in any circumstances, so long as they hold together.

Tlie orily tools which they possess are hatchets or adzes
of a sniootii black stone; augers made of shark's teeth;
rasps composed of a rough fish-skin fastened on flat pieces
of wood; and knives made of sharp shells; yet with these
defective instruments they produce many articles of neat
and curious workmanship, which at once testify their in-
genuiiy and patience.

Their wcaix)ns, such as clubs, spears, and darts, are
made of hard wood, curiously carved and ornamented;

Fi{lIiN3)lA' ISLANDS.

465

'I'licir stools or pilloWs, which arc nia;!c of brown or blark
wo(hI, arc finely polisiiccl, and freciucntly inlaid wiUi ivory.
'I'lieir corda!;a is inadc of ihc fibres of iht cocoa-iuit husk,
from which they form four or five-inch rope, laid exactly
like those of Europe ; and fishing lines as sti-on;^ and even
as the best cord. Their small hooks are made entirely of
l^carl shell, but the larger ones are only covered with it on
the back; and the points of both kinds are generally of
tortoise-shell. They have small nets of the most delicate
texture; and their baskets, made of the same cocoa-nut
fibi'cs, are at once durable and beautiful, being generally
composed of different colours, and studded with beads
made of shells or bones. Their manufacture of cloth and
mats, which is the chief employment of the women, is
executed with wonderful skill. The cloth is made from
the slender stalks and trunks of the paper-mulberry, which
rarely grows above seven feet in height, and four fingers in
thickness. From these stalks they strip the bark, which,
after scraping off the exteiior rind, they roll up and ma-
cerate in water. It is then beaten with a square wooden
instrument, sometimes smooth, and sometimes full of coarse
grooves. This operation is frequently repeated ; and the
pieces, which are generally from four to seven feet in
length, and half as broad, are then laid out to dry. These
jjieces are joined together with the glutinous juice of a
berry, and, being then placed over a large piece of wood
with a sort of stamp beneath them, are rubbed hard with
a bit of cloth dipped in the juice of some bark, which gives
to the surface a dry brown gloss, while the stamp at the
same time makes a slight impression. This glazing ren-
ders the slufl' both more durable, and capable of resisting
rain. The finer sorts, in addition to this operation, are
dyed of different colours, and stamped of different pat-
terns. In this manner they proceed, joining and staining,
and gluing spare bits upon any holes or thin spots, till
they have produced a piece of cloth of the requisite length
and breadth. The mats are of seven or eight different
sorts, and excel those of most other countries both in tex-
t\ire and beauty. Some are intended merely for ornament,
and are made from the tough membranous part of the plan-
tain tree; others are worn as a part of dress, and are ge-
nerally prepared from the pandanus; and a coarser kind
ior beds and sails is formed from a plant called evarra.

The food of these islanders consists principally of vege-
tables, such as cocoa nuts, bread-fruit, plantains, yams, and
tarros, a root resembling a carrot. Their chief articles
of animal food are hogs, fish, and fowls, which are, how-
ever, only occasional dainties, reserved for persons of rank ;
but the common people frequently eat rats, which abound
in all the islands. Their food is generally dressed by bak-
ing, and they make several palatable dishes from different
sorts of fruit. They sometimes boil their fish in the green
leaves of the plantain tree, tied up so as to form a bag,
■which holds both the fish and the water, thus producing a
kind of fish soup. Hogs are generally baked whole, in
holes dug in the earth, having the bottom covered with
red hot stones about the size of a man's fist. Some of
these stones, wrapped in leaves of the bread-fruit trees,
being at the same time introduced into the belly of the
hog, and the carcase having been placed on cross sticks,
and covered with leaves, the whole is closed around with
earth, and left, without farther attention, to the influence of
•-he heat. They are not very cleanly, either in their cooke-
.y or manner of eating ; and, except in families, seldom sit
down in companies to a sociable meal. Their usual drink
at meals is water, or the milk of the cocoa nut ; but they
use at breakfast, or as a morning beverage, a favourite li-
quor named kava, which is prepared in a manner suffi-
ciently disgusting to European feelings. The kava is a
Vol. IX. Part II.

species of pepper, which Is carefully Cultivated around th.c
habitations, and which gencially grows to the height of a
luan. The root of this plant, after being properly cleaned,
is split into small pieces, which arc distributed among iho
young people who have clean teeth, to be chewed. Each
of these has a leaf placed before him, on which he lays
his portion of the masticated root ; and, when it is all chew-
ed, the contents of the leaves are emptied into a large
bowl. It is then mixed with a proper quantity of water,
and squeezed hard with the hands, to press out the liquor;
then put three or four times through a fine strainer, made
of the inner bark of a tree. It is next served out in cups,
made of plantain leaves, and about a quarter of a pint is put'
into each ; but they often continue to drink in considera-
ble quantities. When taken by some of Captain Cook's
sailors, it operated like spirits, producing intoxication, or
rather stupefaction ; but seemed to have very little effect
upon the natives.

The ordinary dress of both sexes of the better class con-
sists of a piece of cloth or matting, several yards in length,
wrapped round the body, and fastened below the breast by
a peculiar kind of knot, from which it hangs loose down to
the knees ; and, being tied close with a belt, is sufficiently
long for the upper part to be thrown over the shoulders.
This, however, is a costly dress, and is not always worn
even by the chiefs. That which is more generally in use,
is made of the leaves of the gee plant, which are very broad
and strong, and which, being finely shredded, are thickly
entwined in a belt, and fastened round the waist, from whicii
they hang down to Uie middle of the thigh like a full
fringe. This, with the addition of a few strings of flowers,,
is commonly the sole dress of the women in their festive
dances. The inferior class, however, often wear only the
7iiaro, which is a belt about 4 or 5 inches broad, passed be-
tween the thighs, and fastened round the waist; and, espe-
cially when engaged in war, in fishing, or any active occu-
pation, this covering composes the whole of their dress.
Both men and women occasionally defend their faces from
the sun with little bonnets, made of different materials.
The ornaments, also, as well as the dress of both sexes, is
the same, and consist chiefly of necklaces made of the fruit
of the pandanus, and various odoriferous flowers, or of
small shells, sharks' teeth, the wing and leg-bones of birds
pendant on the breast ; rings of tortoise-shell on the fingers,
and several of these joined together, forming bracelets, on
the wrists ; a polished mother-of-pearl shell, or a ring, on
the upper part of the arm; and cylindrical bits of ivory, or
of reed stuffed with a yellow pigment, as ear-rings. Tliey
dye their hair of different colours, brown, purple, or orange,
and wear it in a great variety of ways, sometimes growing
to its full length, sometimes short on one side and long on
the other, sometimes entirely cut away except a single
lock on one side, or on the top of the head. The beard is
cut short, and sometimes shaved close with sharp shells.
Both sexes pluck the hair from their arm-pits, and anoint
their body, especially the head and shoulders, with cocoa-
nut oil. The women rub a fine yellow powder like tur-
meric over the whole of their bodies, and have a few blue
lines tattooed on the inside of their hands. The men are
stained or punctured with these lines and figures from the
middle of the belly half way down the thighs; and are also
partially circumcised, or rather supercised, by cutting off
the upper part of the foreskin. They are all remarkably
cleanly in their persons, and bathe frequently in the ponds,
which they prefer to the sea, as they reckon the salt wa-
ter injurious to the delicacy of their skin.

Polygamy prevails among the Friendly islanders with-
out any apparent limits; and the power of divorce seems
to be equally unrestrained. Every man may take as many'

3 N

4G6

FRIENDLY ISLANDS.

wives as lie can maintain ; ami also dismiss them when lie
pleases. The greater part of the commonalty content
themselves with one; but llie chiefs have jjcnerally from
lour to ciiTht. The young women have no liberty of choice
in their matrimonial connections, but are ilispusi-d of by
the father, or his repri;sentative. They pride themselves
niticli upon their virginity : and, as a token of that state,
wear their hair uncut till they are married. Tlic daugh-
ters of the chiefs are, from their birth, placed under the
care of women, who may be called duennas ; and, even
after marriap;e, siniihir attendants are provided by the hus-
band. The foi-ms of courtship and marriage are suffi-
ciently simple. The intending husband makes known his
■wishes to the parents of the other party, sending at the
same time a present of provisions. If the ])restnt is ac-
cepted, which is not always done at the first offer, his pro-
posal is considtrcd as favourably received ; the alVair is
then communicated to the daughter, who, having no power,
never attempts to refuse. Upon a day being fixed, the
bride is brought in her best apjjarel, at the head of a large
company of females, one of whom, taking her by the hand,
places her by the side of. the bridegroom, who is waiting
with his friends before his house to receive her ; and the
ceremony concludes with a feast and a dance. Sometimes
marriages are contracted, like the Jewish espousal, many
years before the consummation of the nuptials. Where
there are several wives, tlie children take the rank of their
respective mothers ; and, in all cases, probably owing to
the frequency of divorce, and of illicit intercourse, family
dignity descends through the female. Their mode of do-
mestic life, especially among the chiefs, is much after the
patriarchal form ; and the younger and inferior branches
surround the head of the family in one household, and in
the greatest harmony. There is much social intercourse
among the members of the family, especially in the even-
ings, when they retire to their mattings, which is commonly
done about seven o'clock ; but instead of then going to
sleep, they are accustomed to converse till ten or eleven
■with much cheerful pleasantry and shrewdness of remark ;
and so fond are they of chatting in this familiar manner,
that, should one chance to awake during the night, and
find another in the same predicament, they will renew the
conversation for an hour,- and perhaps rouse some of the
rest to join in it. Yet, with all this freedom of intercourse,
there is a strict observance of proper respect, and even of
ceremonious politeness ; and the behaviour and language of
the higher classes are thus refined and improved above the
lower, in the same proportion as in civilized countries.*
This may he exemplified by the orderly manner in which
the household of a chief is arranged and served at break-
fast, which consists in drinking kava, and eating baked
yams, kc. and is taken at day-break, as soon as the family
rise from bed. The company forms a large circle, sitting
cross-legged before the chief, on each side of whom stand
the principal servants, to direct the preparation of the kava
by the younger persons, while the rest of the company are
silently forming their temporary cups of plantain leaf. Per-
sons appointed to the office, then rising from the circle,
approach the bowl with those plantain vessels ; and when
the distributor of the liquor has filled one of them, he asks,
" whose kava is this ?" The principal domestic replies,
"take it to such a one ;" and the person, whose name is
pronounced, claps his hands, as a signal to the waiter where
to convey it. These waiters conduct themselves in the

most becoming and regular maimer, arranging their ap-
parel with the greatest neatness, walking with all possible
grace, and presenting the cups with cci emoniousp'olitencss.
Other servants, during the preparation of the kava, are
busily employed in baking the yams, whicli arc brought in
as soon as the liquor is distriluitcd, and placed before the
com])any, who cat their poition, and talk together as they
please; and, in all the different steps of the process, the
w»rd of command is given and observed with an exactness
and attention resembling a legiment at parade. At this
entertainment they often continue from day-break to noon,
and then lie down and sNep two or three hours. It is a
favourite luxury of the principal people, to have their
bodies and limbs, while they are asleep, thumped or beaten
with the fists of women, who relieve each other during the
operation. After rising, they proceed, like too many of the
higher ranks in most countries, to contrive amusement for
the day.

One of their most favourite amusements is bathing, in
which they generally indulge two or three times a day ;
and they have different water games, in which both sexes
join. Two posts are fixed about a hundred yards distant
from each other, in a depth of water about four feet ; and
the company, dividing, into two parties, a large stone is
placed between them. The contest is, vVhich side shall
first drag the stone to their own post; and the divers ge-
nerally remain a considerable, time struggling around the
stone, at the bottom of the water. Another bathing diver-
sion consists in going out at high water, when the sea rolls
in on their flat shores with great force, and then ride in on
the swell, steering themselves on the top of the wave with
the utmost dexterity, stretching out one hand like a prow, and
guiding themselves with the other like a rudder. When a
spectator would apprehend that they must infallibly be
dashed lifeless on the beach, they will turn on one side with
surprising agility, and darting through the next wave, swim
out to sea to renew the sport : or, if tired of the amusement,
will shoot through the refulgent surge, and land in perfect
safety. Another favourite diversion, especially of the
chiefs, is rat shooting. The cocoa nut, roasted and chewed,
is strewed by the servants near the holes of these animals;
and the sportsmen take their stand with bows and arrows.
By making a squeaking noise like that of the rats, they
entice them to come out, and, while they are feeding on
the nuts, they take aim alternately, and whosoever kills
most in the same number of shots wins the game. AVrest-
ling and boxing matches furnish another source of enter-
tainment ; in both of which exercises they have been gene-
rally conquerors when engaged with Europeans, and are
particularly remarkable for the good humour which they
preserve when worsted. Though a very active people,
they frequently spend whole days in luxurious indolence,
walking among the plantations, or collecting in one another's
houses for the sake of conversation ; but these more seden-
tary days are generally concluded by dancing and singing,
which is their most favourite amusement. The chief sends
through his district, collecting about 40 or 50 young per-
sons, of both sexes, to dance by torch light with his regular
attendants. The women, on these occasions, are clothed
with a thin drapery, having their necks and shoulders en-
circled with wreaths of fiowers, and their dark ringlets
bespangled with the whitest and most aromatic blossoms.
Their dances are said to be beautifully diversified, and to
be performed by companies of eighty or a hundred, with

• Their manner of bestowing a present, as mentioned by the English Missionary who resided among them at Tongataboo, shews a high
degree of refinement, and may be considered as a parallel to the complimentary style of the Orientals. "If he sent me a pig, those who
brouglit it would say, they had brought a pig, but it was very small, and intended for the serv-ints, if I would permit them, for Mulk Aamair's
1!»ke, to accept of it." Compare 1 Sam. sxv. 27.

FIUENDJ.Y ISLANDS.

467

the greatest pvoiuiJliiosd, rcguhuity, and graccrulness of
■movement. This amusement is frequently continued till
midnight, and sometimes till morning, one set retiring to
rest, while another rises to dance. It is their great pas-
time on all occasions, and generally concludes even their
ceremonies of mourning. It is however too often perform-
ed with little regard to decency, and is generally an incen-
tive to the most licentious excesses. Their music is very
simple and pleasing, but extremely monotonous. Their
songs are lively and melodious; but their instruments are
very defective. One, composed of uiie(|ual sized reeds,
resembles Pan's pipe. Another is a flute of bamboo, about
18 inches in length, closed at both extremities, with a hole
near to each end, and four others in the middle. Into tliis
instrument they blow with one nostril instead of the mouth,
and, with only three notes, produce a pleasing simple music.
The principal instrument is a kind of drum, formed of a
log of wood, hollowed throughout with a long narrow aper-
ture, laid lengthwise upon two solid pieces, and beaten with
bamboos of different lengths, so as to yield a sound accord-
ing to the length of the stick.

They have a variety of ceremonies to express their grief
for the dead ; but they arc of such a nature, that it is diHi-
cult to decide, whether they give greater proof of humanity
or barbarity. When any of them dies, he is wrapped up
in mats and cloth, and interred in burying places called
Fiatookas. These are large inclosed spaces, having in the
middle a lofty funeral pile, of a pyramidal form, around
■which the bodies of the chiefs, (for the inferior people have
no particular spot of interment) are collected for many ge-
nerations, and arranged in a style of rude, but solemn dig-
nity. When the deceased is a person of distinction, some
of his wives, or other relations, are strangled at the moment
that his corpse is deposited ; and the nearer relatives, in
every case, inflict upon themselves many bloody marks of
sorrow. The most common way of testifying grief, is to
strike their faces and breasts with their hands ; and many
of ihcm have scars on their clieek bones, resembling a
circle produced by burning, occasioned by the fre(|uent
abration of the skin. At other times they strike a shark's
tooth into their foreheads, beat their teeth with stones, and
even thrust spears through their cheeks, or into their sides
and thighs. Around the graves of their kings and princi-
pal chiefs, they often mangle one another in a kind of bac-
chanalian frenzy, of which the following account is given
by one of the missionaries, who resided lately among them
for several years. " Tlie space round the tomb was, on
this occasion, a palsestra for savage gladiators. Hundreds
ran about it with ferocious emulation, to signalize their
grief for the venerated chief, or their contempt of pain and
death, by inflicting on themselves the most ghastly wounds,
and exhibiting spectacles of the greatest horror. Thou-
sands, ere the period of mourning was over, fought with
each other, and cut themselves with sharp instruments.
It was an awful scene indeed ! Night after night we heard,
for some we( ks, the horrid sound of the conchshell rousing
these deluded creatures to these dreadful rites of mourning
for the dead ; and shrieks and clashing arms, and the rush-
ing and violence of the multitude, i-e-echoed round our
abode, and rendered it a scene of continual horror and
alarm."

The natives of the Friendly Islands seldom exceed in
st.iture the common size of Europeans ; and are generally
strongly built and well proportioned in their figure, their
shoulders are broad, and their whole form conveys the idea
of strength rather than of beauty. They have good eyes
and teeth, and are free from that uncommon thickness about
the lips, which is found among the inhabitants of the other
islands in the Pacific. Their hair is thick, straight, and

strong, thougli somcliincs bushy aud fi-izzled ; and its na-
tural colour is black, I)ut many of them stain it of a white,
brown, put pie, or orange hue. There is observable among
them a great variety of features, many Roman profiles and
European faces ; and the only general likeness which cha-
raclciizes them, is a fullness at the point of the nose. The
general colour of their skin is a cast deeper than copper
brown ; but several of them have a true olive complexion.
The greater part of the people have a dull hue, and a de-
gree of ro ugliness on the surface of the body, especially where
it is uncovered ; but, in the higher classes, there is a
softer and clearer skin, with a tendency to corpulence.
The women are distinguished from the men, less by their
features than Ijy their form. 'Sometimes, indeed, their
countenances are both delicate and expressive ; but they
are moie remarkable for the elegance of their figures,
which are usually well proportioned, and often perfect
models of female beauty : the smallness and delicacy of
their hands, seems to be their principal distinction. Both
sexes are strong and active, and have a very graceful mien,
and great firmness of step when they walk. Few natural
defects or deformities are to be seen among them ; and
they appeared to all the navigators who have visited their
coasts to be remarkably healthy. Though extremely at-
tentive to personal cleanliness, they are most liable to cu-
taneous diseases, particularly to the terter or ring-worm,
which leaves whitish serpentine marks upon their bodies.
They are frequently affected also with tumours in the tes-
ticles, and swellings on their legs and arms ; but a species
of venereal disease, which covers their bodies, and parti-
cularly the face, with broad ulcers, is the worst of their'
maladies. They have always evinced a veiy pacific and
friendly disposition towards strangers, and observed the
greatest uprightness in their traffic ; but all of them, of
whatever age or sex, are remarkably addicted to theft from
their European visitors, and display the utmost dextevity,
and sometimes murderous ferocity in the practice. When
detected and punished, they shewed the most complete in-
sensibility, both to the shame and the bodily suffering in-
flicted on them. The utmost mildness and good nature
is depicted on their coimtenances ; and they preserve a
degree of self command in their conduct, very unusual in
the savage state. They are, at the same time, chearful,
open, and good humoured; and the females particularly
are unusually merry and talkative. They were described,
in short, by their first European visitors, as a people not
only adorned by all the gentler virtues, but also as possess-
ing many of the most estimable qualities of human nature ;
but more recent information proves them to be capable of
the most ferocious excesses, and overturns all the decla-
mations, founded upon their character, in favour of unci-
vilized society. In their wars, particularly, they present
all the features of barbarians ; and the fiercest savages of
America are not more merciless towards hostile tribes,
than these Friendly islanders are to one another in their in-
testine commotions. One of the common modes of war-
fare among them is to " tootang," as they express it; that
is, to come upon the adverse party by surprise, to massacre
in secret, to carry off plunder, to cut down the plantains
and cocoa-trees, and to commit every species of devasta-
tion. Women, children, and prisoners, are murdered with-
out mercy ; and the dead bodies, after being exposed to the
most brutal indignities, are roasted and devoured with vo-
racious satisfaction. Their cruelties are perpetrated with
the most wanton levity ; and more than ordinary barbarism
was witnessed by one of the English missionaries, who
had adopted their customs, and joined in their expeditions.
" Spectacles too shocking for humanity to contemplate,
soon sickened my sight, and sunk my spirits : I beheld,
3N2

463

FRIENDLY 1SLANJ)S.

with shaking; horror, lari^e stacks of human bodies piled
lip, by being laid transversely upon cacli other, as u ino-
■numental trophy of the victory. Proceeding a litllc far-
ther, a horrid spectacle almost froze my blood. It was a
woman in a silting posture, with folded arms, holding a
child to her breast, as in the act of suckling it. Upon ap-
proaching them, I found botli tlie mother and child cold
and stiff with death. The enemy had killed them while
in this posture, and indulged their savage revenge in
amusing themselves with placing the dead bodies in tliis
affecting attitude." In the course of tiie civil war to which
this extract refers, several of the missionaries stationed in
Tongataboo were cruelly butchered, while harmlessly,
looking upon a victorious party, who were passing their
habitation ; and while »hc facts above related clearly shew
how unadvisable it is to estal)lish Christian teachers where
fheir persons are exposed to lawless violence, tliey prove,
at the same time," how much the humanizing influence of
their doctrines is needed, by tliose who have been most
highly extolled as the inoffensive children of nature. See
Cook's Second Voyage round the IVortd^ 4to vol. i. p. 2 1 1 ;
Cook's last Voyage round the World, vol. i. p. 141, 2G7,
285 ; Authentic JSTarrative of four years residence at T'un-
gataboo ; Wilson's Ali&sionary Voyage in the Shi/i Duff, (^if)
FRIESLAND, West, in ancient times called J-'risia,
one of the seven united jirovinces, is bounded on the north
by the German Ocean , on the south by Overyssel and the
Zuydcrzee ; on the west l)y the Zuyderzee; and on the
east by Ommeland, Drenthe, and Overyssel. It lies be-
tween 52° 45' and 53° 30' of North Latitude, and between
5° 8' and 6° 5' East Longitude from Greenwich : extend-
ing from 10 to 13 leagues from north to soutli, and nearly
the same distance from west to cast. It is divided into
four quarters ; namely, Oostcrgo, Westergo, Zevenwolde
or Seven Forests, and the islands on the north coast. It
contains about 100,000 inhabitants ; and sends five of the
55 representatives who compose the assembly of the states-
general. Oostergo, the north-cast quarter, is divided into
10 districts; Leeuwerderdecl containing 14 villages; Fer-
verderodeel containing 11 : West Dongerdeel 14; Kol-
lumcrland 6; East Dongerdeel 14; Dantumadeel 12;
Tzetjerksteradeel 15; Smallengcrland 7 : Idaardeadeel S ;
Aainverderahem 6. Westergo is divided into nine dis-
tricts; Het-bilt, containing 9 villages; Harlingen 8 ; Won-
seradcll 27 ; Waterland 9 ; Wymbritzerdeel 28 ; Hennar-
derdeel 12; Baaderdeel 16; Menaldumerdeel 12; and
Franekcrdeel 11. Zevenwolde is divided into 10 districts ;
Gaasterland containing S villages ; Haskcrland containing
7 ; Utuigerdecl7 ; Doniawerstal 14 ; Opsterland re ; Ang-
wirden 5; Schoterland 18; Stellingwerf-Oosteinde 10;
Stellingwerf-Westeinde 20 : and Lcmsterland 5. The
largest of the islands on the north coast of the province is
Ameland, which is about four leagues in length, and one in
breadth, and contains several villages, llollum, Balluni,
Nes, kc. The principal towns in I'ricsland are situated
on the north-west coast, namely, Leeuwarden, the capital
of the province, a well built town, about 25 leagues N. E.
of Amsterdam, and containing 2000 inhabitants ; Franeker,
a small but handsome trading town, the seat of an univer-
sity, and about SA leagues west of Leeuwarden ; Harlin-
gen, a fortified and populous place, with a convenient liar-
bour, but of ditKcult access, about 20 leagues north-nortli-
■^vest of Amsterdam, and containing 7000 inhabitants ;
i&ockum, an ancient and neatly built trading town, situated
in a fine corn country, contai/iiug 3000 inliabitants, and
about four leagues north-north-east of Leeuwarden ; Bols-
vert, a small but ancient town, celebrated for its manu-
facture of baize or light woollen stuffs, containing 2000 in-
habitants, and about 4 A leagues south-west of Leeuv.'ardcn ;

Workum, a small open town, surrovmded by a ditch, aiul
celebrated as tiie birth-place of Lambert de Bos, about 7
miles sontli-wcst of Bolswert ; Stavcren, anciently the re-
sidence of the Frisian kings, now an inconsiderable place
in a marsliy country, near the south-west point of the pro-
vince, and about 7 leagues south of Ilarlingcn ; and Sloo-
ten, a small, but regular, and trading town, surrounded by
lakes, and 4 leagues east of Stavercn.

The ancient inhabitants of Friesland were distinguialied
by the obstinate defence which they made of their liberty,
against the power of the Roman emperors, and by their
repeated attempts to shake off the yoke of their conquer-
ors. After the death of Drusus, by whom they had beeu
compelled to submit, and after having been 40 years in
subjection, tliey expelled the Romans from their province,
and even made encroachments on the territories of the
empire. Their ambsssadors repaired, with the utmost
boldness, to the court of Nero ; asserted in his presence
that they were excelled by no nation in equity and valour;
jjrofussed their desire to live in friendship with the Romans,
but not in subjection; and even demanded a place in the
public theatres, to which they understood they had a right
as ambassadors. Though driven back by the Romans, and
obliged to confine themselves within their ancient boinida-
ries, they continued for a long series of years to maintain
their independence as a state ; but, towards the decline of
the empire, they fell under the dominion of the Franks.
About the beginning of the 8th century, Adalgise, who is
considered as the first Christian king of Friesland, refused
to pay homage to the Franks, and a war ensued. Radbode,
his son, was defeated by Pepin ; but so recommended him-
self by his valour to tlie esteem of the conqueror, that he
received his daughter in marriage. Charles Martcl, after-
wards attempting to reduce the Frieslandcrs, was routed
with great slaughter, and left them for a time unmolested.
Returning, however, with a numerous army, and wearing
them out by a succession of bloody battles, he compelled
them at length to acknowledge his superiority, but not his
sovereignty. Lender Charlemagne they were were still
farther subdued, and obliged to pay an annual tribute of
thirty pounds of silver. As now a province of the Franks,
the country was governed by counts or lieutenants, with
the title of Potestas or Podestad ; but, under their first go-
vernor, Fortcman the Great, they rendered such essential
services against the Saxons, that Charlemagne exempted
them from every mark of servitude, and left them free to
choose their own form of government. They made no al-
teration, but continued Forteman in his office. About the
middle of the ninth century, the province was repeatedly
ravaged by the Normans and the Danes ; but the valour
of the people finally prevailed, and cleared their coasts of
every invader. In the year 935, William, Earl of Holland,
and King of the Romans, bestowed many valuable privile-
ges upon the inhabitants of Fiiesland, in liojjes of gaining
their afl'ections, and persuading them to acknowlcdgchis
sovereignty. But the Podestad Sierdama, supported by a
powerful body of his countrymen, declared that tliey would
never betray their country to gratify an emperor, and struck
a medal expressive of their determination to be free.
This was construed as an affront by William, who twice
led his array into the province, and was slain in his second
expedition. One of the most warlike of tlie Friesland Po-
deslads was Martcna, from v/hom inany of the noble fami-
lies in the province trace their descent. This active chief
baffled all the exertions of the Hollanders to gain posses-
sion of the country, and frequently carried his victorious
arms into the territories of the invaders. - After his death,
the election of a successor gave rise to two violent fac-
tions-, whose contentions filled the country with confusion ;

FRI

FllO

469

and, logethf 1' with tlic pressure of a war witli Albert of
Bavaria, reciiiccd tlie piovince to so low a state, tliat seve-
ral persons leiiiscd to accept the office of Podcstad. At
length, to please botii parlies, two governors were elected,
one from each faction ; but this measure, instead of pro-
moting reconciliation, served only to aggravate their ani-
mosities, till at last, tlicy had recourse to arms, and seemed
to be bent only upon extirpating one anotlicr. These dis-
sentions reduced Friesland to the verge of destruction, and
•were the rneans of its becoming subject, in 1417, to Sigis-
mund. Emperor of Germany. At the termination of a
long war between Joan of Bavaria and Philip the (lood of
Burgundy, the province of Friesland was gained by the
house of Bourbon. It became subject afterwards to the
house of Austria ; and never recovered its freedom till the
general revolt in the Netherlands gave birth to the repub-
lic of the United States, of which, since that period, it has
formed one of the seven provinces. The inhabitants arc
said still to retain that ardent love of freedom, by which
their ancestors were so distinguished, together with many
of their ancient customs and modes of living. Even their
dialect and accent are said to be peculiar, and the language
of the peasantry, in particulai-, is often unintelligible to the
other inhabitants of the Low Countries.

The province of Friesland is a flat country, and the
< north-west coast particularly being below the level of the
sea, is secured against the encroachments of the ocean by
very strong dykes, constructed arid preserved at a vast ex-
pence. Tn former times, when tlie care of these dykes
was left to the proprietors of the adjoining estates, ihey
were often suffered to fall into decay, and the most destruc-
tive inundations were frequently the consequence of this
neglect. In order to preserve themselves and their effects
in such calamities, the inhabitants, in the want of natural
sand hills, constucted circular eminences about twenty or
twenty-five feet in heiglit, upon which at length they gra-
dually built their habitations, so that many of the towns
and villages of the province are now situated on these ar-
tificial mounds. Since the year 1570, when the dykes
were all raised and strengthened at the public cxpence,
these irriiptions of the sea have been less frequent and fatal.
Friesland very much resembles the provinces of Hol-
land in its climate and soil. The country has been origi-
nally full of marshes ; and many lakes arc still found in
the south-west districts; but in the south-east are several
extensive heaths and woods. The whole country is n';w
intersected with canals, which at once carry off the super-
fluous water to the sea, and facilitate the intercourse of
traffic. One of them extends from Harlingen to Lieuwar-
den, and Ihence by smaller branches to Groningen ; and
another passes from Slooten to a small gulf on the south
coast. The north-west districts abound in excellent pas-
tures ; and, in these quarters, immense quantities of butter
and cheese are produced. The cow-pock is said to have
here been known among t+ie peasantry from time immemo-
rial. Besides excellent cows, sheep, and oxen, numbers
of large horses are reared in these pastures, and sent for
sale to Germany and other countiies. In the more ele-
vated parts good corn land is found, awl the wlieat which it
produces is greatly esteemed for the whiteness of its flour.
Barley, pease, and potatoc also are commonly raised ; but
oats aild hemn are tl-.c p.i.>eii>ai products. The inhabi-
tants, howevei-, derive their chief support from the fish-
cries, which are numerous along the coast. Friesland is
faincd for its woollen stuffs, and still more for its linens,
whi . are said to be t'le finest in Europe. The fuel prin-
cipally used ill the country is- peat or turf, but of an infe-
rior kind to that wiiicli is found in Holland, See Modern
Univ. Hist. vol. xsxi.; and Playfair's Geognt/t/nj. (7)

FRIESLAND, Evst, a principality in tlie circle of
Westphalia, is bounded on the north by AVest I'licsland
and the German Ocean, on the east by Oldenburg, and on
the south by the bishopric of IVIuiiKter, and on the cast by
Groningen. It lies in 53" 30' North Latitude, and 7° 20'
East Longitude, extending 40 miles from north to south,
and nearly the same distance from west to east. It con-
tains several towns, and about 103,000 inhabitants. The
principal towns are, Aurich, in the centre of the country,
defcntled by a castle, surrounded by a marshy territory,
and by forests full of game, formerly the prince's residence,
and containing 2000 inhabitants. Norden or Noorden, an
old, unfortified town, near the north-west extremity of the
country, about three miles from the coast, and 17 north of
Embden, has a tolerable harbour and a little trade. Emb-
den, a flourishing sea-port, near the mouth of the Ems,
and 28 miles east of Groningen, is the largest town of East
Friesland, tolerably well built and fortified, situated in a
fertile tract of country, and containing 8000 inhabitants.
The harbour is excellent, and the trade of the place con-
siderable, especially in cheese, linens, and wines. Fi'ede-
rick the Great of Prussia exerted himself anxiously for the
extension of its commerce; and, in 1750, established an
East India company. But his forcing system did not com-
port with the republican spirit of the people ; and many of
his schemes were very ineff"ectual. The herring fishery,
which he laboured to encourage, has succeeded well, and
brings in great sums annually. Jengum, a wealthy town
on the river Ems, about 11 miles south-east of Embden, is
remarkable chiefly for having been the scene of several bat-
tles. Leer or Lehr, a well built manufacturing town on the
Seda, above its confluence with the Ems, and 15 miles
south-south-east of Embden, is situated in a marshy but
fruitful country, and contains 4500 inhabitants, Strick-
hausen, a citadel built by the city of Hamburg, about 9
miles east of Leer on the river Seda, is 24 miles south-east
of Embden. Friedburg, a fortress on the frontier of Olden-
burg, 26 miles east of Embden, is situated in a healthy and
marshy soil, and is now in a ruined state. Essens, on the
sea-coast, 21 miles north-east of Embden, is a tolerably
well built town, with an old citadel. Witmund, a small
burgh and citadel in the north-east corner of the principa-
lity, between Essens and Friedburg. There are many
small islands along the north coast, viz. Juyst, Norderney,
Baltrum, &c. The country of East Friesland is a low, flat,
and generally marshy or sandy territory. The tracts along
the coast, and on the banks of the rivers, have a bottom of
clay or mud, and are extremely fertile, abounding in ex-
cellent pastures ; but the inland parts are chiefly sandy,
heathy, and marshy, in which great quantities of peat are
dug for fuel. The climate is cold, the seasons late ; and
the inhabitants have a stunted appearance; small round fi-
gures, yellow complexions, and flaccid bodies. The fowls,
cattle, sheep, and horses, on the contrary, are of a large
breed ; and numbers of the latter animals are exported for
heavy cavalry and coaches, even to Russia and Italy. There
are few corn fields in the country, and butter and cheese
are the principal products of the farms. One third of the
whole is uncultivated, and there is great abundance of
game. The river Ems traverses the south-west district;
and contributes essentially to the trade and prosperity of
the country. The chief articles of commerce are horses,
horned cattle, cheese, butter, oats, beans, rape-seed, and
fine linen. The prevailing religion is Lutheran, but the
Catholics, Moravians, Jews, kc. are freely tolerated. See
Riesbeck's Travels in Germany, vol. iii. ; and Playfair's
Ceografxhy. (7)

FRODSHAM, a sinall town of England, in the county
of Chester, is agreeably situated on a rising ground near

470

FRO

FRL

the confluence of the rivers Weaver and iMcrscy, ami be-
neath the hills which form tlie nortlicni extremity of Dcla-
nicre I'orcst. The town consists ol two wide and well paved
streets, intcrscclini^ each other at ri^Mn angles; and^l the
upper ex rcmity of one of them, uiion very high ground,
stands the church, which is an old and handsome building.
It was repaired and beautified in 1790. Near the church
is a school, with an excellent house for the master, having
a cupola for the purpose of erecting an observatory. IJea-
con Hill, which stands behind the school, commands a fine
prospect of the estuary of the Dee and the remote parts of
Lancashire. Tlie hill is now cut out into walUs, which
lead gradually to the summit. There are buts for the
pr.ictice of archery at tiie foot of the hill. Frodsham
Bridg*, over the Weaver, is about a mile to the east of the
town ; and at some distance from it, on the river side, are
works for the refining of rock salt, which give some em-
ployment to the inhabitants. There is a small cotton ma-
nufactory in the town, and a graving dock and yard have
lately been erected for building and repairing vessels. One
of the springs whicli supplies the town with water dis-
charges 1700 gallons in a minute, "and is used as a cold
bath. Great C|uantities of potatoes are cultivated in the
parish, amounting sometimes to 100,000 bushels, of nearly
one hundred weight each, annually.

The following is the population of the township and
lordship together for 1811.

Number of houses

Do.
Do.
Do.

Males .
Females .
Total population

of families .
employed in agriculture
in trade. Etc.

388

416

270

10S7

1068

3105

See Beauties of England and Wales, vol. ii. (lu)
FROME, or From E Selwood, a town of England, in
the hundred of Frome and county of Somerset, is situated
on several abrupt hills, at the bottom of one of which is the
principal entrance to the town, by a good stone bridge of
five arches across the river. The town is irregularly built ;
and the streets, which are numerous, are narrow and ill
paved. The houses are built of small rough stones, and
are covered witli heavy stone tiles, dug in the adjacent
quairies. The church of Frome, situated in the east of the
town, is a large and handsome building: it is 150 feet long
and 54 broad, and consists of a nave, a chancel, north and

boutii aisles, and four chapels. A quadrangular tower, wiui
a neat octagonal stOTie spire 120 feet high, stands on the
south side of the entrance to the nave from the chancel.
The chancel is very elegant, the area round the commu-
nion table being paved with black and white marble. The
altar piece is placed in a fine oval window, and reprcscnts-
a female pelican with three young ones, all superbly gilt.
Tlie organ at the west end is very handsome. Besides
this church, there are meeting-houses for the Baptists, In-
deijendents, Presbyterians, Quakers, and Methodists.

There are at Frome several alms-houses and other cha-
ritable institutions, .\mong these is a charity school, which
stands near the bridge, and is a large and handsome build-
ing of freestone. There is also a free-school, founded by
•Edward VI. Vallis House, the ancient seat of the Lever-
sedges, stands on the west skirts of the town, and near it is a
beautiful romantic vale, called Vallis Bottom, which runs in
a serpentine direction to Mells.

The principal manufactures of Frome, are broad cloths
and kerseymeres, which are made to the extent of nearly
150,000 yards annvially. There are several mills for fulling,
and for the rolling of iron, &c. on the banks of the river;
and knitted worsted stockings, and wool cards, are likewise
made. There are in the neighbourhood, mines of coal,
lead, manganese, and a variety of useful clays. Frome has
long been celebrated for its fine strong beer ; and, at the
sign of the Bell, a cask is kept as a curiosity, which con-
tains no less than 600 puncheons. The position of Frome
steeple, according to trigonometrical observations, is West
Long. 2° 18' 4", and North Lat. 51° 13' 47".

The following is the population of the parish, in 1811.

Number of houses, 1722

Number of families, 1909

Families employed in agriculture, . . . 222
Ditto in trade and manufactures, .... 1333

Males, 4179

Females, 5314

Total population, 9493

See Beauties of England and JVales, vol. xiii. p. 462, and
Collinson's History' of Somersetshire, (w)

FRONTINUS Sextus Julius. See History of Hy-
drodynamics.

FROST. See Meteorology.

FRUCTIFICATION. See Botany.

FRUIT Trees. See Gabdening.

FUCL

The Fuci constitute a tribe of plants, commonly inclu-
ded, along with Ulvse and Marine Confervse, under the
more general title of Submersed Algse, or Thalassiofibyta,
(from S«/ar3-(05, 7nari7ie, and (puTov, a fila7it) and well known
in this country by the popular name of Sea Weeds, (a fami-
liar appellation which we shall not scruple to employ).
In Scotland, the name wrack (probably from the French
varec) is often applied to tnose fuci which are cut on the
shores for the manufacture of kelp. In the Sexual System,
the fuci form part of the third order. Algae, of the last
class Cryptogamia ; an order in which Linnxus included
Jungermannia, and the other genera now denominated

Hepaticae. In the system of Tournefort, they form part of
the second section, Plant (S 7narin<s, Sec. of the 17th class,
Asperm<s viil go habit cE. The woxA fucus, (^w-o?), which
means a paint, may be supposed to allude to the quality
possessed by some of the small reddish species, of afford-
ing a sort of rouge.

It is not easy to class the thalassiophyteswith any of the
families of land plants. In the most recent systematic
works, they are placed after the Tremellae, with which
they are connected by the Ulvae. To the Lichenes, which
follow them, they are more closely allied : So great is the
affinity of one little species, Fucus pygmaeus,* that in the

• Excellently figured in Lightfoot's Flora Scoiica, p. 964, t. 92. (The first time thatany species of fucus is mentioned, a good figure
4f it is, in general, referred to.)

lUCl.

471

j-'lora Dunica it is described by the name ol Licberi con-
(inis, and in ihc Melliodus Lichcnum ol Di Aeliarius, as a
Stereocaulon. The general resemblance between the rein-
deer liclien and two plants figured by Mr Turner, in Ids
History of Fuci, F. viscidus, t 119, and F. aniphibius, t.
109, is striking ; and the ramuliof F\ Cnenmitzia, (t. 200),
greatly resemble tlie shields ol Parnielia perforata elevated
on peduncles. 11 more illustration be wanting, it may be
noticed, that four different species of sea-weed have, at
different times, on account of their similarity to lichens,
received the trivial name of lichenoides.

In some of the fuci, other sti iking resemblances to cer-
tain land plants may be traced ; but these arc of no impor-
tance towards their classification. To creeping land plants,
they are allied by a curious family, known by the title of
Caulerjjae, to bo afterwards described. In general appear-
ance, some fuci resemble filices, and others musci : F.
inembranaceus, (Turn. t. 158), and F. Woodwardia, (7\'fr.
Brit. p. 13, t. 6), are very like ferns of the genus \Vood-
wardia ; and the frond of I', scalpelliformis, (Turn. t. 174),
has a great similarity to some mosses of the genus Fissi-
dens.

With the animal kingdom, sea-weeds are connected by
F. tomentosus, and F. bursa, (Turn. t. 135, 6.) both of
which resemble sponges in imbibing water, and giving it
out on being pressed ; and also in emitting a peculiar dis-
agreeable odour a few hours after being taken from the sea.
F. bursa, indeed, is classed, both by Linn^us and Pallas, as
a zoophyte. F. simpliciusculus of Turner, (t. 175), and F.
lycopodium, (t. 199), approach very near to that class of
beings ; but, of all others, a small caulerpa, found by Mr
Brown in King George's Sound, attached to mytili, and
lately figured by Turner, under the title of F. peniculus,
(t. 228), forms a link that most closely unites sea-weeds to
the animal kingdom.

If it is a difficult task to distinguish and arrange the
vegetable productions of the surface of the earth, which
can be examined at all seasons, the difficulty is evidently
greatly increased in regard to marine plants. In these
last the organizatio. is more simple, and consequently they
exhibit fewer distmctive characters ; and their place of
growth almost precludes the possibility of watching their
progress and reproduction. Those best able to delineate
their characters are often situated at a distance, and must
decribe from the examination of specimens not always
judiciously selected by others ; frequently from such as are
torn from the rocks, and thrown ashore in storms, when
the root or means of attachment is generally wanting.

The older botanists, such as Clusius, the Bauhins, Bar-
relier, and Morison, contented themselves with giving
very short descriptions, or a few figures of sea plants.
About the year 1711, Reaumur first examined the parts of
fructification in some fuci. He fell into a mistake similar
to that which long prevailed concerning the seeds of ferns
and mosses ; in considering as seeds what are truly cap-
sules, or tubercles, containing seeds. The opinions of
Reaumur seem to have been almost implicitly adopted by
botanists down to the close of the 1 8th century. The cele-
brated Linnxus had too much to do in reforming the
arrangement of phaenogamous plants, to pay very great
attention to the cryptogamia. His situation at Upsala was
certainly not favourable for the investigation of the sub-
j-nersed algae, and his herbarium contained but comparative-
ly a few species ; yet he described near 60 species of fuci.
In 1768, Gmelin published, in 4to, his Historia generalis et
sfiecialis Fucorum, a work in which he not only collected
•whatever was previously known, but added very considera-
bly to the stock of knowledge. Indeed, considering it as
the first general work on this branch of natural history, the

author deserves great praise. He divided the plants of
which lie treated into nine orders : \'esicu!osi, Globulifcri,
I'cnicilliferi, Corallini, Mcmbranacei, Radicati, Agara, Trc-
mellse, and Ulvse. lie described 101 species; of which
number he considered 37 as new, for he gives no syno-
ninics with them. Limijeus's name is given to 27 species
only. His notions, in general, concerning the fructifica-
tion of fuci, and particularly the supposition of unisexual
and asexual plants, were rather crude, and have not been
adopted.

The numerous fuci which inhabit our own shores, have
been gradually illustrated by a series of writers since the
days of Ray, who enumerated a good many in his Synopsis.
Those kinds of algae which Dilknius considered as enti-
tled to a place in his Historia Muscorum, which were
chiefly Conferva:, he arranged accorduig to general habit
and structure. But in the minute kinds, the w^ant of a
microscope has often led him into error; for instance, to
describe as jointless, plants in which the dissepiments are
obvious under an ordinary lens. Withering, in his Ariange-
ment of British plants, gives descriptions of a number of
species. He subdivides the gcims into several sections:
those with bladders; with pod-like leaves; necklace-like, or
jointed; flat; cylindrical; and capillary: the flat he farther
distinguishes as cither mid-ribbed or ribless; and these he
still further separates, as either opake or pellucid: both
the cylindrical and capillary he likewise subdivides by the
same character of opake and pellucid. Hudson, in his
Flora Anglica, is remarkable for care and accuracy ; in
evidence of which it may be mentioned, that his nomencla-
ture is seldom altered by tliat most scrupulously exact
naturalist Mr Turner of Yarmouth, in his writings on this
branch of natural history. The descriptions of Lightfoot,
in his Flora Scolica, when made from specimens picked up
by himself, and examined on the spot, are highly cha-
racteristic and luminous. The J^'ereis Britanjiica of Stack-
house, which appeared, in fasciculi, between 1795 and 1802,
has very considerable merit. The author had good oppor-
tunities of examining the English sea-weeds, as he resi-
ded on the shores of Cornwall. He divided the genus
Fucus into several genera, chiefly according to the fructi-
fication ; and although he was but imperfectly acquainted
with this, his arrangement deserves attention, and shall be
afterwards detailed. Major Vellcy's figures, which are
highly finished, and his dissertation on the propagation of
fuci, do him great credit. In the third volume of the
Transactions of the Linnean Society, the Bishop of Carlisle
and Mr Woodward not only gave a most accurate summary
of the state of knowledge with regard to British fuci ; but
added several new species, and amended the specific cha-
racters of others. In tlie coui'se of editing the extensive
periodical work, English Botany., Sir James Edward Smith
likewise added several nev.- species to the list In 1802,
Mr Dawson Turner, of Yarmouth, pr-oduced his Synofisis
oj British Fuci, ■a. valuable little wor-k, which gave the most
encour-aging earnest of what might be expected from this
writer-, in his great work on fuci, then only projected,
but the publication of which is now coirsiderably advanced.

In the Philosophical Transactions for 1796, M. Corr-ea
da Serra, a Portuguese natur-alist of merit, published his
remarks on the fructification of tliose fuci which are fur-
nislied with distinct receptacles. In the following year,
Dr Albert William Roth of Bremen published his Bemer-
kungen iiber das Studium der cryji'.ogamischcn Wasscrge-
ivachse, in which he divided cryptogamic water plants into
new gencr-a, to be afterwards meniioned. In the Catalec-
ta Botanica of the same writer, considerable additional
light has been thrown on marine plants, particularly by the
communications of Professor Mertcns of Bremenj charac-

472

FUCl.

teiised by Mi Tuincr ns one ot I'ue most able algologists
<if the present clay. Piolcssor Esper's Icones Fucoruni
cum charnctcribua si/atcmaticii, Cfc. in 4to. appeared in
1799. It is a useful' work, ihousli, as the author describ-
ed and figured from dried specimens only, boih Ills de-
scriptions and representations are occasionally imperfect
and unsatisfactory. Professor Wcbcr and the late Dr
Mohr, in their Beitragc znr Xatiirkunde, have edcavourcd
to subdivide the genus I'licus by the character and dispo-
sition of the seeds ; and in the course of this attempt, have
made many excellent observations on this tribe of plants.
In 1303, Baron Xavier du Wulfcn published a little work,
entitled Cry/itos^amia J<jualica, containing some useful in-
lorniation concerning fuel. In the 2''lora Danica, publish-
ed in folio, at the exponce of the Danish government, (a
lesson to governments that are more rich and powerful,) a
number offuci, from the shores of the Baltic, and likewise
from the distant settlements of that industrious nation, have
been figured and described by the successive editors, Oe-
der, Vahl, and Hornemann. Several other foreign writers
have, at various times, contributed to a general knowledge
offuci; particularly the Count Ginanni Ravennate, Bishop
Gunner in his FUra .Xorvegica, Rumphius in his History
ofAmboyna, Seba in his Thesaurus, and Forskael in the
Flora JEgytitiaco-Arabka.

The French have of late distinguished themselves in this
branch of natural history. The labours of DecandoUe de-
serve much praise. There is a very good general ac-
count of fuci given by INI. Poiret, in the botanical part of
the Encycloiiedie Mcthodique. The Flora Allantica of Des-
fontaines is a work of great merit. But above all, M. La-
mouroux of Agen, now Professor of Natural History at
Caen, has studied the fuci with uncommon diligence and
success. He published, in 1804, dissertations on several
new or rare species; and in 1813 he gave a new arrange-
ment of the family, in the twentieth volume of the Annales
du Museum d'Histoire Aaturelle. Of this arrangement we
think it right to give a pretty full account, because at pre-
sent it is the best. We must however confess, that in our
opinion there has been some precipitancy in bringing it
before the public. It would certainly have been far bet-
ter, first to have published descriptions and figures of the
many _s/iecies inedite referred to by the author, and to have
left the classification to the last. This is the plan wisely
adopted by Mr Turner; and circumstances seem to inti-
mate, that the French naturalist has not been entirely free
of a wish to anticipate our countryman. But, in any case,
it may be deemed fortunate for Mr Turner, that M. La-
inouroux has actually given his views to the world ; for
while the candour of the former will induce him to bestow
all due honour on any rival arrangement, we confidently
trust that he will not suffer his own sound judgment to be
shackled, but will proceed, unembarrassed, on the founda-
tion which he has so well laid, to rear a system worthy of
his name ; and we are therefore not displeased to find it
announced as his opinion, that previously to any permanent
classification being established, it will be proper to reduce
the present genera, Fucus, Ulva, and Conferva, into one
mass, and to proceed in arranging de novo.

The first fasciculus of the Historia Fucorum, or Gene-
ral History of Fuci, by Mr Turner, was published in 1807.
Above forty fasciculi have now (1815) come out; in which
about 240 species have been described and illustrated. We
speak the opinion of very competent judges on the Conti-
nent when we say, that both the descriptions and the co-
loured engravings are admirable, and do honour to the
country. The latter arc chiefly from drawings from the
masterly pencil of Mr William Jackson Hooker, well
Jinown for his Tour in Iceland, and his beautiful mono-

graph of the Jungermannix. N'cver, as remarked by Sir
jamcs Edward Sinilh, was there a more perfect combina-
tion of the skill of the painter and the botanist than in thin
work. Il is meant to include figures of all those plants
which have, by Linnxiis and subsequent Ijotanists, been ar-
ranged under l!ic genus Fucus. Many new species have
already been added, communicated by distinguished bota-
nists and travellers, particularly Mr Robcit Brown, (the
associate of the unfortunate Flinders), who remained for
more than a year about Van Diemen's Land and Kent's
Islands, and had tluis a precious opportunity of collecting
the marine plants of tliose distant coiuitries, which he did
not fail to improve. The fuci collected by Lord Valcntia
and Mr Salt, in the Red Sea, also enrich the work; and
Professor Mertens has communicated the Asiatic fuci col-
lected in the first Russian voyage round the world, in the
ships Newa and Nadeshda. The distinguished Dr Wil-
liam Wright of Edinburgh, freely communicated those he
had gathered on the shores of Jamaica, during liis resi-
dence in that Island. The illustrious Presidents of the
Royal and the Linnean Society (Sir Joseph Banks and Sir
J. E. Smitii) are likewise contributors. The desciiptions
by Mr Turner arc ample and luminous, and are given both
in Latin and English. Particular care is bestowed in illus-
trating the physiology and fiuctification, and on this ac-
count the work is doubly interesting. In no botanical pro-
duction was there ever greater attention paid to minute ac-
curacy ; and some very general allegations of occasional
incorrectness, thrown out by Lamouroux in the Annakg du
Museum, are perhaps sufficiently confuted by this fact —
that not one instance of real error is specified by the critic.
The names at present attached to the plants by Mr Turner,
may, in some measure, be considered as temporary ; at least
new generic names must be adopted. It is probable, how-
ever, that, in the arrangement with which he is to conclude
his work, few of the specific or trivial names will need to
be changed. Every classification of fuci must, in the pre-
sent stale of our knowledge of them, be to a certain extent
artificial ; but froin this author, as near an approach to a
natural arrangement as possible, may confidently be ex-
pected.

E-xfilanation of Terms.

Before going farther, it seems proper to explain, in a
general way, a very few terms, chiefly connected with the
fructification of the fuci, as these terms must frequently
recur in the subsequent part of this article, and are scarce-
ly to be found explained in elementary books, as applicable
to this class of -plants.

By a recelitacle is meant a process, often resembling a
pod, and generally containing many tubercles, which again
contain the seeds, as in Claudea elegans, (Plate CCLXI.
Fig. 3.) ; F. vesiculosus. Fig. 4. ; and F. nodosus. Fig 5.
TsX aaa.

Tubercles are nearly solid, generally roundish, often
composed of minute fibres, among which the seeds lie ;
they frequently resemble pimples or warts, and are often
perforated, or marked witii a pore ; frequently clustered
together; sometimes half immersed in the frond ; some-
times on short peduncles. See Plate CCLXI. Figs. 3, 4,
5, above referred to ; and also Fig.7.

Cafisules are seed-veesels, often partly hollow ; fre-
quently placed singly; smooth on the surface; sometimes
spherical, but often of a lanceolate shape, like minute sili-
quse. See Plate CCLXI. Fig. 10. spherical capsules; Fig.
11. lanceolate capsules. In some cases, it may be observ-
ed, the terms tubercle and cafisule become nearly synony-
mous: they seem to be ijsed almost promisciilously by Mr

FUCI.

473

Turner, in speaking of pai'licular species, as F. bractea-
tus, ijigartinus, and kaliforniis, i^Turn. I. 25, 28, 29.)

Vesicles are the air-bladders, well known in F. vesiculo-
sus, Plate CCLXI. Fig. 4. b ; and nodosus. Fig. 5. b, and
others ; but these vcsicuUs have no connection with the
fructification.

Previous to the account of Lamouroiix's system, it may
be right to notice very sliortly some of the Tiietliods sug-
gested since the time of Linnaeus and Gmelin, particularly
those of Walker, Stackhouse Roth, DecandoUe, and Wah-
lenberg.

Dr Walker's Method.

The method of Dr John Walker, late professor of natu-
ral history in the university of Edinburgh, was never pub-
lished ; but it has been kindly communicated by his friend
Mr Charles Stewart (author of F'.lements of Natural His-
tory, in 2 vols. 8vo. 1801, and editor of the new edition of
Dillenius's Historia Muscorum), as contained in vol. 6th of
ilie Doctor's Adversaria, dated 1771. We trust that we
do an acceptable service to botanists in here preserving it.
Not that it is preferable to some later methods, but that it
constitutes matter of some curiosity, and enables us to trace
the progress of the science. It has besides been indirect-
ly alluded to by Mr Turner, in his Historia Fucorum, vol.
i, p. 96.

Dr Walker divides the submersed algae into fourteen
geiiera: Cervina, Flabellaria, Bombycina, Annularia, No-
dularia, Catenaria, Fucus, Platyceros, Phasganon, Ulva,
Chartacea, Plumarium, Neuropliyllum, and Spongia. Of
these we shall give a very brief account, stating only the
essential character, and the description of the fructification ;
and we think that fairness requires that characters and de-
scriptions be given in his own words.

The 1st genus Cervina or Horn weed, has the following
character : " Coriacea, dichotoma, inarticulata. Fr. Vesi-
culae terminales vel superficiales, sessiles." It is divided
into two sections; compressed, as Fucus nodosus, and
round, as F. fastigiatus, Lin. (rotundus, Ttirn. t. 5.) By
■vesiculx, it is scarcely necessary to remark, the author
means receptacles: He uses bulla to express air-vesicles.

2d genus, Flabellaria or Fanweed : " Coriacea, pcnnata,
inarticulata. Fr. Vesiculsc rotundata: solida; terminales."
It is likewise divided into two sections; with air-bladders,
as F. siliquosus (r2ir». t. 159); and without air-bladders,
as v. pinnatifidus, (t. iO.)

3d, Bombycina or Silkweed : " Cartilaginea abulia, inar-
ticulata, ramis lilamentosis. Fr. Vesicul^e globosse, silidse,
ramis solidis." This includes Confervje scoparia, C. tomen-
losa, and similar plants.

4th, .dnnularia or Ringwecd : " Cartilaginea annulata,
ramis filamenlosis. />. Tuberculae globosae solidi-e termi-
nales." This is subdivided into several sections, and em-
braces a number of Conferva, asC. fucoides and pennata
of Hudson.

5th, jYodularia or Knob-weed : " Herbacea, viridia, ra-
mis alternis, capillaceis, nodosis. Fr. Tubercula ramos
per intervalla occupanlia." This is divided into sections,
with simple filiform fronds, as Conferva piicata of Hudson,
and with filiform fronds much branched, as C. glomcrata.

6th, Catenaria or Chain-weed : " Gelatinosa, ramosa, ar-
ticulata ; articulis tuniidis." The fructification was un-
known to the author. The genus was divided into several
sections, with verticillate, opposite, dichotomous, and al-
ternate branches, and included Ulva articulata of Hudson,
Conferva corallinoides of Linnaeus, and similar plants.

Vol. IX. Part. II.

7th, Fucus or Wrack : " Coriaccus, dicliolomus, costa-
tus. Fr. Vesiculx terminales, intus gelatinosae, tuberculis
seminalibus rolundis." This is divided into sections; with
air-bladders, as F. vesiculosus; without air-bladders, as F.
scrratus, ('J'urri. t. 90,): and with inflated fronds, as 1'. in-
flaius of Linnaeus, now ascertained to be a variety only of
F. vesiculosus.

8th, Plattjceros : " Palmatus, dichotomus, cncrvius. Fr.
Vesiculae supei ficiales, sessiles, sparsae, subglol)OS3e." This
is subdivided into leathery, membranaceous, and gelatinous,
and, according to Dr Walker, embraces F. ceranoideaand
lacerus of Linnaeus.

9th, Phasganon or Tangle: Stipitatum, monophylluiTj,
coriaceum. Fr. Vesiculae superficiales globosse, gelati-
nosae, inter corticem et epidermidem folii tumidae." This
is subdivided into two sections ; those which are nerveless
or destitute of a midrib, and tliose which have a midrib.
The former section includes Pli. balteiformc, or Sea-belt of
Dr Walker, (F. saccharinus, Lin.); Ph. iNIariae or St Mary's
thistle. Walk. (F. polyschides, Lightf.) ; and Pli. esculeil-
tum, or Comman tang. Walk. (F. digitatus, Lin.) The
latter section includes Ph. Scoticum, \\'alk. or F. csculen-
tus, Lin.

10th, Ulva, or Laver : " Sessilis, monophylla, membra-
nacea, enervia. Fr. Tubercula inti'a membranas, Lin."
There are three sections, by means of which plants verv
widely different are brought together: (1.) Frondcscent,
including U. umbilicalis, or slake ; (2.) completely tubu-
lar, such as the common U. compressa ; and (3.) tubu-
lar, divided by septae, embracing F. filum of Linnaeus, af-
terwards described {Turn. t. 86).

lull, Chartacea, or Dilse : "Sessilis, monophylla, ener-
via, palmata, laciniata." The fructification was unknown
to Dr Walker. There are two sections; membranaceous
and gelatinous. The first includes the common dilse, F.
palmatus [Turn. t. 115.), with F. prolifer, (Z?^//^/: t. 30.)
and others; the- second, F. gelatinosus of Hudson, the Sea
ragged staff of Pallas, 353. It may be observed, that Fu-
cus Sarniensis of Roth, [Turn. t. 44.) was known to Dr
Walker by the name of Chartacea dichotoma.

12th, Plumarium, or Feather- weed : " Stipitatum, carti-
lagincum, inarticulatum, ramosum, pennatum ; fronde com-
posita. /'"/•. Globuli laterales sessiles." This genus is di-
vided into several sections, being cartilaginous or membra-
naceous, and possessing or wanting a midrib ; and includes
F. plumosus, {Turn. t. 60.) dcntatus, (t. 13.) and others.

13th, jVcurophyllian, or Nerve- weed : "Stipitatum, ra-
mosum; foliis mcmbranaceis distinclis. Fr. Tubercula
globosa pedunculala, superficie foliorum. F. sanguineus
is a good example of this genus, (Turn. t. 35.)

Sfiongia is the last genus of Dr Walker ; and he divides
sponges into sessile and branched ; but it is now generally
admitted that they belong to the animal, and not to the ve-
getable kingdom.

Mr Stack-house's Method.

Mr Stackhouse published his arrangement, in his Jii'ereis
Britannica, about the year 1797. He formed six genera:
Fucus, Palmaria, Chondrus, Sphasrococcu.s, Corda, and
Codium ; the characters of which are taken chiefly from
the fructification, but partly from structure.

1. Fucus has this generic character: " Fructification a
jelly-like mass, with imbedded seed-bearing granules, and
external conical papillae, terminating." This genus is di-
vided into two sections : with the fruit exserted, as F. ser-
ratus and vesiculosus; or innate, as F. loreus, {Turn. t.
19 6.)

2. Palmaria. " Skin smooth, glossy, polished on each

474

FUCI.

side, with a colouilcss mucus within; forming together a
thick consistent substance, with the seeds very minute, na-
ked, orbicular, of tlie colour of the skin of tlio plant, dis-
posed ill patches or in lines, just within the surface of the
cuticle." This inclutles 1". diyitiUus, {Turn. t. 162.) and
edulis, (t. 114.)

3. Chondrus. " Fructification an ovate rigid imbedded
pericarp, containing seeds in a clear mucus, and promi-
nent on either surface." This embraces only one species,
J", crispus, and its numerous varieties. {Turn. t. 216, 217.)

4. S/ih<erococcu.^. " Fructification, external globular pe-
ricarps, adiKite or immersed ; sessile or pedunculate ; con-
taining seeds as in the others." This genus is subdivided
into several sections ; with distinct leaves, as F. sangui-
neus ; with a midrib, as F. alatus, {Turn. t. 160.) ; with a
compressed frond, as V. coccincus; or a round frond, as F.
lotundus.

5. Clionla. " F'ructirication a mucous fluid in the hollow
part of a cylindrical frond, with naked seeds aflixcd inward-
ly." The principal example of this genus is F. filum.

6. CocUiim. " Fructification invisible to the naked eye ;
frond roundish ; soft and spongy when wet ; velvety when
dry." This embraces only the sponge-like fuci, particular-
ly F. tomentosus, a fine downy or spongy sea-weed found
on the south-west shores of England, {Turn. t. 135.)

Mr Stackhousc expresses his conviction, that his genera
Fucus and Sphaerococcus will soon fall to be further divi-
ded into several new genera ; and he mentions some spe-
cies having anomalous fructification, particularly F. ligula-
tus, (/-v. Scot. t. 29.) and lycopodiodcs, {Turn. t. 12.) to
which he had not been able to give a place in liis arrange-
ment.

Dr Roth's Method

Dr Roth, in his Catalecta Botanica, and in his Remark's
on the study of Cry/itogamic IVatcr Plants, proposes the
following genera: F\icus, Ccramium, Batrachospermum,
Conferva, Mertensia, flydrodictyon, Ulva, Rivularia, Linc-
kia, and Trcmella. The plants usually denominated sea-
weeds, are contained in four of these genera, viz. F'ucus,
C'eramium, Conferva, and Ulva.

Fuciis is characterised thus : " Vesicles (receptacles) ag-
gregate, imbedded in the substance of the frond, and fur-
nished with mucifluous pores."

C'eramium thus: "Plant filiform, substance membrana-
ceo-cartilaginous, with adnate granuliferous capsules." Of
this genus there ai'e two divisions: 1st, With uniform ca-
pillary fronds, containing some of the more slender fuci,
and of the unjointed capsuliferous confervas ; 2d, ^Vith the
fronds irregularly jointed, comprehending the jointed fuci,
and the remainder of the capsuliferous confervas. It may
here be noticed, that Mr Stackhouse at one time, while the
French revolutionary wars prevented the naturalists of this
coimtiy from knowing what was done by their brethren on
the Continent, proposed to constitute a very different genus,
embracing the broad smooth-fronded fuci, under the title
of Ceramium ; but that he afterwards dropt that name, and
substituted the appropriate one ofPalmaria.

The Conferva of Roth are defined as consisting of small
tubes, or herbaceous filaments, with granules of fructifica-
tion scattered on the inside coats of the tubes ; and the
Vivx, as presenting expanded diaphanous membranes, with
granules of imbedded fructification principally towards the
margins, which the Doctor considered as liable first to de-
cay, and thus to liberate the seeds.

M. Decandolle's Method.

M. Decandollc, in the T/'jra Gal/ica, and F/ore Fran-
{aisc (1805), has given an arrangement of the submersed
alga;, chielly foundetl on the writings of Dr Roth, and M.
Vaucher of Geneva. Eleven genera are enumeialcd : Nos-
toch, Rivulaiia, Ulva, Fucus, Ceramium, Diatoma, Chan-
transia. Conferva, liatrachospermum, Ilydrodictyon, and
Vauchcria. Of these, Ulva, Fucus, and Ceramium, com-
prize the sca-wccds.

Uiva includes all those with membranaceous fronds, in
which the seeds or capsules are placed under the epider-
mis, without any means of being discharged but by the de-
struction of the frond itself The genus seems rather he-
terogeneous, and is divided into no fewer than six sections:
(1.) Those that are gelatinous within, as F. tomentosus;
(2.) Those that are tubular, as the well-known Ulva com-
pressa ; (3.) Flat, without peduncle, and without midrib,
as U. umbilicalis, or laver; (4.) Flat, with a longitudinal
midrib, as F. membranaceus ; (5 ) Flat, with a peduncle,
as tlie well-known tangle F. digitatus ; (6.) Flat, marked
with transverse zones, as U. pavonia.

Fucus is characterized as Hat or filiform, with the seeds
or capsules united in groups or tubercles, sometimes late-
ral, sometimes terminal ; the seeds being discharged by a
distiiict external pore. This description takes in a part
only of the plants usually considered as fuci, particularly
F. vesiculosus, serratus, siliquosus; some having, as alrea-
dy noticed, passed to the genus Ulva, and ot.hers, as F.
filum, going to the following genus.

Cera?nium is distinguished by having filiform fronds,
which are cither simple or branched, and with or without
articulations, bearing tubercles full of globules, which glo-
bules appear to be capsules. This includes the species of
Dr Rutii's second division of Ceramium, v.ith articulations,
those of the first being sent back to the genus Fucus : it
likewise embraces the marine Coiifervae. The genus Con-
ferva of the F'lore Fran^aise is confined to those fresh-
water species which were huddled together by Linnaeus,
under the name of Conferva bullata.

Dr U'ahlenberg's Method.

Dr Wahlenberg* proposes the division of the Linnean
genus Fucus into three genera, or rather tribes: Fucus,
properly so called ; S/ihcsrococcon ; and Palmaria.

1. Fucus : " Semina in capsulis poro dehiscentibus, ag-
gregatis, frondi immersis; simulque adsunt vesiculse sim-
plices seu ariiculatae. This includes F. seiratus, vesicu-
losus, siliquosus, nodosus, loreus.

2. Sfiharococcon : " Semina in capsulis imperforatis, so-
litariis, superficialibus; simulque adsuiit granula immersa
in appendicibus foliorum, fere ut in confervis." This takes
in F. sanguineus, alatus, plumosus.

3. Falmaria : " Semina solitaria nuda, in frondium su-
perficie." This includes the large fuci, as F. digitatus,
and saccharinus, (yur/i. t. 163.)

He adopts the following subdivisions :

(1.) Frondescent, with a simple midrib or nerve in the
centre of the frond ; as F. serratus and vesiculosus.

(2.) Frondescent, with branched veins or nerves; as F.
sanguineus, and sinuosus, {Turn. t. 35.)

(3.) Stipitate, with a simple stem, proceeding from a
fingered root, and spreading out into a broad frond ; as F.
digitatus and saccharinus.

(4.) Foliaccous and stemless, membranaceous, without

* Georgii Walilenberg Flora Lapponka, Berlin, 1812,8vo.

FUC I.

475

nerves or veins; as F. palmatus, and canaliculatus [Turn.

(5.) Caulescent, with distinct fruit-bearinp; processes,
(i.e. receptacles), which are deciduous ; as !■'. silitjuosus
and notlosus.

[6.) Caulescent, naked and compressed ; as I\ lorciis and
plumosiis.

(7.) Filiform, with spherical fronds ; as F. filum and ly-
copodiodes.

M, Lainotiroux's Mctliod.

Lamouroux, far from confining himself to the fructifica-
lion as the basis of his divisions, derives his characters
from every part of the plant, or even from any remarkable
accessary circumstance. He divides all the thalassiophytcs
into si.K Orders, viz. Fucacese, Flotideae, Dictyotete, Ul-
vacea;, Alcyonidcse, and Spongodeae.

The first order, Fucace^, is the most numerous. They
are distinguished by their " woody structure, and their co-
lour being somewhat olive, drying to blackish."

Most of the species of this family have distinct stems and
leaves. In the stems of the larger kinds, particulaily in F.
digitatus, may be observed parts analogous to the epider-
mis, bark, wood, and pith of land plants. The Fucacese
are readily torn in a longitudinal direction, and a well cha-
racterized fibrous organization is then displayed. In gene-
ral the fibres are divided by septa ; the partitions being
more distant and of a looser texture than in herbaceous
plants. Inmost of the Fucace.x the organs of fructifica-
tion are complicated : According to Lamouroux, the seeds
are inclosed in cafisules ; these capsules are thcmseles en-
veloped by a particular membrane, and form tubercles ;
and these tubercles are grouped into polymorphous masses.
These masses are attached to the branches or to the extre-
mities of fronds ; they contain a mucilaginous matter, the
quantity and viscidity of which increase as the seeds ripen :
and when they are dispersed, it disappears with them. The
fronds of the Fucacese vary in composition, situation, gene-
ral or particular shape, with or without nerves; exhibiting
a variety almost as great as the leaves of dicotyledonous
plants.

The 1st genus is i^zici/s, which is thus defined : " Tuber-
cles numerous, collected in cylindrical receptacles, which
are flat or compressed, solitary or in pairs ; the root an ex-
-jianding callous disk." This character has no doubt the
effect greatly to reduce the numbers of the old genus Fu-
cus ; but it is still very extensive, and the author has judged
it necessary to divide it into no fewer than eleven sections.
Plants which materially differ in general aspect and habit
are still brought together : tl^s F. natans, sili(|Uosus, vesi-
culosus, loreus, and canaliculalus, are arranged imdcr this
one genus; while we might expect them to form as many
distinct genera. In specifying the different sections, some
of the best known or most remarkable species shall be
mentioned as examples.

Sect. (1.) With petiolated air- vesicles ; leaves distinct,
■either sessile or petiolated. This includes F. natans and
F. bacciferus of Turner, (t. 46, 47.) both of them found
floating in the ocean, and forming much of the Mar do
Sargasso of the Portuguese. But not one British species
falls under this section, unless, perhaps, F. salicifolius of
Poiret.

(3.) With petiolated air-vesicles, furnished with a ter-
minal foliaceous membrane; as F. turbinatus, (T'ur?;. t. 24.)
found in the East and West Indies.

(3.) With oblong vesicles, winged with a triple mem-
brane, producing a three-sided or angular appearance. A

single species only belongs to this section, viz. F. triqueter,
(7';/r«. t. 34.) from the sea near the Cape.

(4.) With petiolated vesicles lengthening in the form of
a jiod. Highly characteiistic of this section, a well known
British species occurs, F. siliquosus ; but the vesicles or
air-bladders may be readily overlooked by a careless ob-
server, on account of their resemblance to the receptacles
generally to be found on the same plant.

(5.) The vesicles forming a part of the branches ; leaves
distinct. For example, F. tamariscifolius of Hudson, (F,
ericoides, Turn. t. 191.)

(6.) Fructification at the ends of the fronds, which arc
flat, branched, generally provided with a single nerve, and-
with vesicles. This includes the two very abundant and
well known species, F. vesiculosus and serratus.

(7.) Vesicles innate in the branches ; the fructification
on peduncles. This likewise includes a very general spe-
cies, F. nodosus.

(8.) Without leaves ; vesicles like a string of beads, and
covered with the fructification. This section is created
solely for the very remarkable sea-weed named by Labil-
lardiere F. moniliformis, and by Mr Turner F. Banksii,
{Hist. Flic. t. 1.) The former name is so expressive of the
character of the plant, that any change is to be deprecated,
particularly as the illustrious President of the Royal Socie-
ty is already loaded with well mciilcd botanical honours.

(9) Without vesicles, and with a single round umbilica-
ted frond at the base of the branches — Tliis section em-
braces only the remarkable species F. loreus, common on
many of our shores, and which attacts attention chiefly on
account of the round umbilicated IVund above mentioned,
which, in the early stage of growth, resembles a large pe-
ziza, and gives the rocks the appearance of being covered
with a crop of muslirooms.

(10.) Without leaves and without vesicles; fructification
at the ends of the branches, which are channelled. — This
takes in F. canaliculalus [Turn. t. 3.), comn\on on our
shores ; and F. Mackaii (t. 52.), a species found on the west
coast of Scotland, and named in honour of the discoverer
Mr James Townsend Mackay, of the College Botanic Gar-
den, Dublin, an excellent and most deserving botanist.

(11.) Without leaves or vesicles ; branches cylindrical,
with the fructification at the tips; as F. tuberculatus, [Turn.

2. Laminaria : " With the root fibrous and branched."
This generic character is perhaps objectionable, on the
groupd that the root is frequently wanting in specimens of
sea-weeds which are cast ashore ; but, on the other hand,
the fructification, from which generic characters are com-
monly taken, is also frequently wanting, and at any rate it
is very little known, ftlost of the laminarice are large
plants, with broad fronds, inhabiting deep places of the
shores, where they are much exposed to the action of
waves, and requiring therefore the strong mode of attach-
ment with which they arc furnished, and from wliich the
generic character is derived. Some have aii-vesiclcs, as
F. pyriferus [Turn. t. 1 10), and F. buccinalis (t. 139.) ; and
in others, vesicles seem entirely wanting. Not only the gi-
gantic sea-weeds of the Southern Seas, some of them de-
scribed PS more than 1000 feet in length, belong to this ge-
nus; the largest of the British fuci also fall under it, the
well known great tan'^la-, F. polyscliides or bulbosus, F.
digitatus and saccharinus.

3. Osnundaria : " Fructifications minute, oblong, on
footstalks, situated at the points of the leaves; the leaves
entirely covered with small spiny mamillae." — This genus,
named from its resemblance to some ferns of the genus
Osmunda, is formed for the sake of one species of trifling

3 03

476

luei.

size, brought iVom the shores ol' New lloUaml. Till, how-
ever, it be examinee', by some botanist in a recent state, its
characters cannot be accuiatcly known.

4. Desmarcstia : " Fructification unknown ; branches and
leaves broad, contracted at their ori^in, so as to appear suj)-
portecl on petioles; the edges ;j;arnishcd with small spines."
— This iiicludes !•". aculealus {Turn. t. 187.), whicli is very
common on our shores, and F. ligulatus (l. 98 ), which is
rare. Lamouroiix, as well as Stackhousc, is inclined to
consider the marginal spinules as containing the seeds of
tlic plants ; Init Mr Turner has doubts on the subject.

5. I-'urceUuria : "Fructification pod-shaped, snbulated,
simple or bi'anched, smooth, stem and branches cylindrical,
and without leaves." — This includes only V. lumbricalis
(Turn. t. 6 ) and its varieties.

6. Chorda : " Fructification unknown ; stem simple, cy-
lindrical, divided by irilernal dissepiments," — the gi-nkuta
intcrfferina of Rolh. The n.ime Cliorda was first ajjplied
by Stackhouse to a small group of fuci, consisting chiefly
of F. filum and F. thrix. The latter is now known to be
nothing but the filum in a young state ; so that at present
1'. filum is le only species of this genus.

The second order, Floridiox, are distinguished by their
" organization being coralloidal; their colour being purple
or reddish, and acquiring lustre on exposure to the air."
While fresh and living, the Florideae are of a purplish red
colour, but have nothing of the lustre which they acquire
when dead, and when they liave been exposed for some
time, in a moist state, to the action of light and air, so as
that a degree of fermentation may be excited. It is in
this order that the double mode of fructilicalion (after-
wards described^ is chiefly to be observed. The leaves of
the F"loride£e are flat expansions, divided rather than
branched, proceeding from a cylindrical stem, fixed by a
disc more convex and less extensive than that of the Fuca-
cese. The leaf is just an expansion or continuation of
the stem, and it is sometimes difficult to assign the re-
spective limits of these parts. All the flat portions are
reckoned loaf, and all the round or compressed parts,
branch or stein. Some of the leaves have nerves, of a
deeper colour than therest of the leaf: in these, the fruc-
tification is situated on t!ic nerves, or at their extremities.
In leaves destitute of nerves, the ffuctification is spread
over the surface of the leaf. The size of the Florideae is
not considerable, none of them much exceeding two feet in
length. Lamouroux considers them all as annual or bien-
nial productions.

lie makes two divisions : 1st, With flat leaves, Clau-
dea, Delesseria, Cnondrus: 2d, With cylindrical leaves,
and wanting leaves, Gelidium, Laurencia, Hypnea, Acan-
thophora, Dumontia, Gigartina, Plocamimii, and Champia.

1. Ctaudta. "Tubercles in a pod-shaped receptacle,
which is attached to the nerve by its two extremities." —
There is only one species, Claudea elcgans, which, accord-
ing to Lamouroux, is the most beautiful of all sea-weeds,
ior variety of colour, elegance of shape, and delicacy of or-
ganization. It is certainly the most curious of all the
tribe. (See Plate CCLXI. Fig. 1, 2, 3.) It was found on
the coast of New Holland by the unfortunate Peron. The
Irond consists of a very fine membrane, which when dried
is almost invisible to the naked eye, crossed by nerves
forming a net-work. The fructification, as stated in the
generic character, consists of rows of siliques, suspended
by the two extremities between parallel nerves. Dried
specimens exhibit fine teints of red, green, yellow, and vio-
let, passing into each other in the most pleasing manner.
It is figured in Jnnales du Museum, torn. 20, pi. 8. fig. 2.
from whence our figure in Plate CCLXI. is copied. It is
always desirable that a generic name should, if possi'^jle,

suggest some idea of the kind of plant intended ; but al-
though this could easily have been accomplished in the
present case, the unmeaning title of Claudea has been im-
posed ; — borrowed, wc are told, from the Christian name of
Lamouroux's father, Claude, and a better proof, surely, of
filial attachment than of judicious nomenclature.

2. Drlc.iscria. " Tubercles spherical, generally com-
pressed, somewhat like grape-stones (subgigartina), in-
nate, sessile, or pedunculated, situated on the nerves, the
branches, the margin of the leaves, or scattered on their
surface." — The colours arc varied and brilliant. I'rom
rose-colour, or even bright scarlet, they descend to dark
brown, passing through yellow, green, violet, and purple.
IVIany of them are parasitical on tlic larger sea-weeds. Tiie
genus is subdivided into three sections.

a. With a single longitudinal nerve, simple or branclied.
— This includes several beautiful species, common on all
our shores, F. sanguineus, sinuosus, alatus and dcntatus \
with F. ruscifolius,(7'z/)7z. t. 15.) found on the south coast
of England. Speaking of the first of these, F. sanguineus,
Mr. Turner remarks, that " in the elegance of its appear-
ance, and the exquisite colour of its most delicately veined
leaves, this plant so much excels all its congeners, that
it carries away the palm with no less justice from the
vcgctablci of the ocean, than the rose, the flower of the
poets, fi'om its rivals in the garden."

b. With the longitudinal nerves buried in the substance
of the leaves. This takes in F. rubens and laceratus, found
on our shores. The former is admirably described and
figured by Lightfoot, in the Flora iicotica,\o\. ii. p. 949. t.
30. under the title of F. prolifcr. The latter is one of the
variable fuci, Mr Turner (Hist. Fuc. t. 63.) describing no
fewer than eight varieties. It. is F". endiviaefolius of the
Flora Scotka, t. 32. and it is to be observed that the longi-
tudinal veins, not being readily perceived, have been over-
looked by Lightfoot and others.

c. Without any nerve or midrib. This includes the
well-known F. palmaius. or dilsc of Scotland, with the re-
markably variable F". ciliatus, {Turn. t. 70.) which is also
eaten ; as well as F. edulis, (t. 1 14.) which, as implied in tl>e
trivial name, is considered as fit for food. F. Brodiaei of
Turner, t. 72. likewise falls under this section : this spe-
cies was found on the shores of Nairnshire, by Mr Bj'odie
ofBrodie, who likewise detected its fructification, and as-
certained the specific differences of the plant.

3 Chondrus. " Tubercles hemispherical or oval, situa-
ted on the surface of the leaves, never on the edges nor the
extremities ; leaves flat, branclied, sometimes mamillary."
— The generic name, it will be observed, is adopted from
Stackhouse ; but tiie character is changed. The small
black lichen-like fucus, F. fl(%in£EUs, which covers many
of our sandstone and greenstone rocks at high-water mark,
belongs to this genus.

4. GeluUum: " Tubercles nearly opake, oblong, situated
on the branches or at their extremities." The generic
name is derived from the quality which the plants possess,
of being almost entirely reduced to a gelatinous substance,
by boiling or maceration. The foreign species, of which
th€ swallows in India construct the edible nests, Lamou-
roux considers as belonging to this genus. F. corneus
(Slaclc/i.p. 61. t. 12.) and F. coronopifolius {7'urn. t. 122)
rarely found on the English coast, r re likewise gelidia.

5. Laurencia : " Tubercles globular, somewhat like
grape-stones, situated at the extremities of the branches
and their divisions." F. pinnaiifidus, the pcpper-dilse of
Scotland, may be mentioned as an example.

6. Hy/inea : "Tubercles subulated, almost opake."
This is named from its general resemblance to the branched
mosses or hypnums ; but the fructification is not readily

ILCI.

477

seen wiUiout a lens. F. Wigghii, {Turn. t. 102.) belongs
to this genus. All the species arc asiiuials.

7. JcanC/i'j/i/tora : " Tubercles roundish, and spiny."
The species of this t^cnusarc equatorial plants, in general
appearance resembling Hypncse.

8. Dumontla : "Capsules solitary, scattered, innate in
the substance of llic plant; atcm and branches fistular."
The species are all of very delicate structure, and annuals.

9. Glgartina : "Tubercles spherical or hcn>ispherical,
sessile, like grape-stones, filled with a semitransparcnt
mucilaginous substance; stem uniformly cylindrical." —
This includes most of the genus Ceramium of Roth. It is
divided into tliree sections.

a. With distinct leaves; as F. subfuscus {Turn. t. 10.)
and tenuissi'mus, (t. 100.) not unconnmon on our shores.

b. Without leaves ; stem and branches without contrac-
tions ; as F. cor.fervoides, {Turn. t. 84.) purpurascens (t.
9.) and plicatus (t. 1 SO.) of our shores.

c. With evident contractions, as F. kaliformis, {Turn. t.
29.}, articulatus (t. 105.), and opuntia (t. 107.) of the Bri-
tish shores.

10. PLocamium : " Tubercles somewhat like grape-
stones ; stems and branches compressed, the extremities
partitioned, or divided by septa." — The plants of this genus
approach nearest to the truly articulated sea-weeds or ma-
rine confervas. They are all annual ; and many of them
parasitical on the perennial species. The elegant F. plu-
mosusof our shores belongs to this genus; and the disse-
piments in the e.xtrems branches, or pinnse, arc beautiful-
ly delineated by Mr Turner, {Hist. Fuc. t. 60.) It must,
however, be remarked, that though this new genus is evi-
dently named from F. plocamium of Gmelin (F. coccineus
of Hudson and others) ; yet this species, instead of afford-
ing a characteristic example of the genus, exhibits no
traces of dissepiments in its branchlets.

11. Chamjda: "Capsules numerous, somewhat eg-g-
shaped ; situated in papillce rising from the stem and
branches." — This consists only of one species, a native of
the shores of the Cape of Good Hope.

The third order, Dictt-ote.e, is distlnguislied by the
"organization being reticulated and foliaceous; the colour
greenish, and not liable to become black on exposure to
the air." This family consists of four genera, Amansia,
Dictyopteris, Dictyota, and Fiabellaria, all of them well
characterized by the reticulated organization, whicli is vi-
sible with a common lens, or even by the naked eye. The
fructifications are numerous, covering the surface of the
leaves, on wiiich they occur in groups of various shapes.
The root consists of a fibrous callosity, furnished with very
fine long whitish hairs, which become yellowish or brown
in drying. In some species these hairs extend up the
stem, or are continued on one side of the frond. They in-
crease in number with the age of the plant. They seem
analagous to the tufts observable on F. serratus, vesicu-
losus, and natans, and are probably secreting and absorbiny;
organs. The dictyotea:, which have nerves or midribs,
are perennial, and are found chiefly in equatorial latitudes:
those destitute of nerves are annual, and found chiefly in
the northern seas.

1. Jmansia : "Reticulations hexagonal, regular and
elongated, with the points acute." — The species are fo-
reign.

2. JDictijofiteris : " Capsules forming masses slightly
elevated ; scattered over the leaves, which are divided by
a single nerve." All the species are natives of warm cli-
mates.

3. Dictyota : " Capsules collected in 'masses, forming
lines having various directions." — This is divided into two
sections : a. Fadina, with the fructification in transverse,

incurvated, and concei.ulc lines: b. DtctyAa proper, with
the fructification in longitudinal lines, rarely transverse
and never concentric, often entirely or pnrtially scattered.
The padina are anah^gous to \.\\a fuci corallini of Gmelin,
and include those species which tlie late iM. Draparnaud
proposed to associate as a genus, under the title of Zo-
naria.

4. Fiabellaria: "Fructification unknown; reticulations
very fine anfl intermixed, so as to produce an appearance
of fell." — This includes only one species, found in the Me-
diterranean.

The fijurth order, UlvacI'wE, is distinguished by the
" organization being herbaceous and uniform, the colour
green, becoming yellowish or whitish in drying." — This
order comprises four genera, Asperococcus, Ulva, Bryop-
sis, and Caulerpa. It includes most of the species of the
genus Ulva of I^inn-Jcus and others. The orgajiization re-
sembles that of the seminal leaves of many land plants, a
herbaceous tissue, destitute of filjres and vessels. The
plants of this order abound with a mucilaginous matter, in
whieii the colouring principle resides. The nature of the
fructification is not yet accurately known. It is apparent-
ly very simple, seeming to consist of naked seeds imbed-
ded in the frond at its surface. The bodies which have
been taken for seeds, however, may in reality prove t& be
capsules, containing granules or seeds.

1. Asfierococcus : " Seeds solitary, scattered, at first in-
nate, but afterwards prominent ; stems fiistular." — Of this
genus, Ulva rugosa, Lin. may be considered as an example.

2. Ulva : " Seeds solitary, innate in the substance of the
plant, scattered, never prominent." — This genus is divided
into two sections:

a. With flat leaves; as U. lactuca, latissima, umbilicalis,
all very common on our shores.

b. With fistular leaves ; as U. compressa, which cover.-?
with its fine green colour almost all rocks where brackish
water occurs.

3. Bryojisis : " Seeds globular, green, contained in the
sterp, or the branches, which arc always fistular." — All the
species are foreign.

4. Caulerjw : " Fructification unknown ; stem cylindri-
cal, horizontal, creeping, and branched." — This is a curi-
ous genus, first described and figured in the French Annals
of Bota7nj for 1811, by M. Lamouroux. It is not clearly-
ascertained whether some, or perhaps e en all the species,
should not rather be considered as belonging to the animal
than to the vegetable kingdom. The organization certainly
differs from that of marine plants in general, and is more ana-
logous to that of some zoophytes. Weber and i\Iohr right-
ly remark, that the stiff' straw-coloured stem of a caulerpa
exhibits few traces of vegetable organization. Even with
the aid of a microscope, neither fibres nor reticulations can
be detected ; an epidermis is observable, and a cellular tis-
sue, the cells of which are so extremely minute, that it is
impossible to determine their form. The caulerpae are des-
titute of any gelatinous' or viscid pro]icrty. Their mem-
branaceous substance, and their uniformly green colour,
have induced Lamouroux to place them among the Ulva-
ccffi. Sometimes the leaves of a particular species, Cau-
lerpa prolifera, are partly covered with small opake points ;
such leaves have not the brilliancy nor half the transparen-
cy of the others; they are of a dull earthy green colour.
If these points prove to be seed-vessels, then is Caulerpa
properly placed among the Ulvacese ; but the fructification
is at present completely unknown. The roots are entirely
fibrous, like those of many of the flexible zoopliytes. The
Caulerpse grow, not on rocks, but on sandy shores, gene-
rally near high water mark, creeping hi the loose sand and
soil i and no other sea-weeds possess a similar mode of at-

478

FUCl.

taclimcnt. Viewed as i)Uuits, ihey inuy be considcrcil (as
formei'ly slated) as coiinectiiijj sea-weeds with llic vcjjcva-
bles of the earth. All tiie species are foreij^n, most of them
tropical. When fresh, they are ol' a line grass-grceii co-
lour, which is liable to pass to a transparent horny white.
Several of them arc figured by Tuincr, under the names
cf F. pint)atus, laxii'olius, clavil'cr, {^IJht. Fvc. t. 53, 51, .57) ;
and he has added some, entirely unknown to Lamouroux.
Among these may be mentioned,!'", cactoides, (t. 171.)
brought by Mr Brown fiom the south coast of New Hol-
land ; and F. hypnoides, (t. 173.) brought from Kent's
Islands by the same naturalist. This last is not only sin-
gular for its beauty, but is very rcmarliable for the exte-
rior of the stem being closely beset with small scales, like
some of the fern tribe : to tliis there is nothing analogous
among the rest of the fuci ; the appearance of scales in F.
squamulosus (Turn. I. 128.) being occasioned merely by
the remains of old ramuli. The other new species of Cau-
lerpa published by Turner, were brought from the Red Sea
by JVlr Salt, and are likewise very curious. The Caulerpae
ajipear to be perennials, or at least to endure for more than
one year. We may remark, that the seaweed of a fine
green colour, desciibed by Hunilioldt as found growing in
the sea at the great depth of 192 feet, and by liim named
Fucus vitifolius, belongs to this genus.

Tbc Ji/t/i 07-dtr, Alc yonide.e, is characterised by the
" organization being gelatinous, or like that of a tremella,
of a dirty olive red colour, becoming darker on exposure
to the air." The Alcyonideae evidently approach very
near to the zoophytes of the genus Alcyonium ; but
neither polypi, nor the habitations of polypi, are to be ob-
served in them. A transverse section of these plants ex-
hibits large hexagonal or irregular reticulations, which di-
minish in size towards the sides of the stem. In a longi-
tudinal section, these reticulations appear lengthened, and
form at the exterior a veiy fine epidermis. The fructifi-
cation of this order is conspicuous enough. It consists of
yellowish capsules, situated in the epidermis, and full of
$mall black seeds. The Alcyonidese have considerable
aCinity to the genus Dumontia of the Florideae, above de-
scribed. They dccon'.pose rapidly when left by the tide
on the shore. Their texture is so loose, that when once
dried and compressed, they never resume their original
I'orm.

The only genus is Jlcyonidium : " Capsules containing
seeds, innate in the fleshy or gelatinous substance of the
plant." The principal species is tiie Ulva diaphana of
former writers, [Eng. Bot. t. 263), and which is not un-
common on our shores. It is remarked by iVI. Lafoy, that,
at certain times of the year, the Ulva diaphana is phos-
phorescent ; but this fact has not been accurately ascer-
tained, and it is possible that the phosphorescence alluded
to, may depend merely on numbers of a minute shining
rereis adhering to the plant, when newly cast ashore, or
drawn from the sea. We have frequently observed a bril-
liant phosphorescent appearance produced by this cause, in
specimens of Fucus dcotatus, and in various species of
Sertulariae, recejilly taken from the sea, the phosphore-
scciv.e being renewed upon moving the specimens, or dis-
turbing the min'.itc animals.

Thei;.r;/j order, SroNGODE.E, has this cliaracter : " Or-
ganization spongy, colour green, tarnishing on exposure
to the air." This order, as published by Lamouroux, con-
sists only of a single genus, which Olivi, a distinguished
Italian naturalist, proposed in his Zooloi^y of the Adriatic
Sea, under the name of Lamarckia. This name, however,
liaving been pre-occupied by a genus of phaenogamous
plants, Stackhouse suggested Codiuni. Lamouroux has
preferred Sjwngodium, on account of the general resem-

blance of the plants which constitute the genus to some
kinds of sponges, and because, like them, they imbibe wa-
ter. It has this character: "Seeds scattered through
the substance of the plant, but most abundant at the ex-
tremities of the filaments which clothe its surface." One
of the principal species is Spongodium dichotomum, the
Fucus tomentosus of former authors, figured in Englufi
Botany, \. 712, and in the llistorij of the Fuci, t. 135. The
substance of the plant consists of a collection of interwoven
fistular tubes, full of a transparent fluid. The surface, as
noticed in the character, is covered with small capillary
filaments, which seem to serve for the absorption of water,
and among which vesicles and capsules aie to be looked
for. These filaments are best observed while the plant
remains in the sea : when it has been withdrawn for some
time from that element, they nearly disappear. The co-
lour is a dark grass-green, which becomes paler by drying.
It may be proper to add, that the Fucus fungosus, lound
on the coast of Barbary by Deslontaines, and described ia
the Flora Allanlica, is to be considered as oidy a variely-
of F. tomentosus. Another species of Spongodium is Fu-
cus bursa of our shores, (Turn. t. 136.) the Alcyonium
bursa of Linnseus. It may here be mentioned, that since
the publication of Laniouroux's system. Turner has de-
scribed and figured (/^;«i i'"i;c. t. 175) a new spongodium
by the title of Fucus simfiliciusculus, a name which is to be
understood as applicable only in a relative sense, being
meant to distinguish it from either the dichoiomous rami-
fication of F. tomentosus, or the spherical shape of F. bursa.
Instead of having a sott velvety exterior like these, it is
papillose ; but its internal structure is quite similar. Tur-
ner remarks, that ¥. simpliciusculus, in external appear-
ance, closely resembles the caulerpae, having the same co-
lour, the same glossy surface, and the same kind of sub-
stance, intermediate between the submersed algae and the
zoophytes, or even approaching more to the nature of the
latter than of the former. The spongodese appear to last
more than one year. They inhabit places never complete-
ly uncovered by the tide. They are nearly allied to the
Ulvaceae, and might perhaps commodiously follow them.

In Lamouroux's arrangement of sea-plants which has
now been detailed, no fewer than 273 ascertained species
are referred to by the author. There are, besides, near
200 unpublished species alluded to by him : of 20 of these,
figures are given in the ji?inate8, but no descriptions ; and
when, or in what form, the remainder are to be brought
before the public, does not appear. There are nearly 100
Toricnii of different species mentioned ; but in no tribe of
plants is there greater difficulty in determining the limits
between species and varieties; it will be nowise surpriz-
ing, therefore, if several of these varieties be hereafter es-
tablished as species ; and, on the other hand, a few of the
species degraded to the rank of varieties. ISIarine plants
are not only liable to very considerable diversity of form,
but, as already noticed, it is nearly impossible to cultivate
them with a view to observe their germination, and ex-
tremely difficult even to watch their progress, on their
native submarine rocks, from infancy to maturity. Of
the ascertained species, 148 are found on the shores of
France.

In the course of our ample account of Lamouroux's ar-
rangement, a number of particulars connected with the
general history and physiology of these plants have been
incidentally stated. There remain, however, several points
deserving of furtlier and separate consideration, particular-
ly their germination and growth, their general structure,
and the nature of their fructification.

Notwithstanding the many observations of late inquirers,
iii no departmeut of natural history does there itemain

FUCI.

479

greater room for tliscovery, than in tracing the progress
of living fuci. The habitat of the plants presents many
dilliculties. It is only in a (ew favourable siiuations, in
calm weather, and at low ebb tides, that observations can
be made, either as to the earliest appearance of the plants
when germinating, or as to the progress of tlie fruciilica-
tion, and shedding of the seeds in the mature plant. To
afford any satisfactory information, individual plants must
be watched, visited at every season of the year, and the ob-
servations must be continued for a series of years.

Gcrmiiuition and Fructificatwn of Fuci.

Mr Stackhouse, we believe, is tiic only person who has
succeeded in vegetating the seeds of fuci, or in convincing
himself that he has done so; for doubts have been started
as to the accuracy of his experiments. So extremely
minute arc the real seeds, and so great is the liability to
error from other seeds floating unpcrceived in the waters
of the ocean, that to prosecute discoveiy in this way would
probably be a hopeless task. It may be right, however, to
state his mode of proceeding. He selected three species
for his experiments, Fucus serratus, canaliculatus, and
bifurcatus, (by which last, F. tuberculatus is to be under-
stood.) He detached some specimens of these very care-
fully from tiie rocks, preserving their bases or roots unin-
jured. He placed them in wide-mouthed jars, and changed
the water every twelve hours, drawing it off by means of a
syphon, to prevent' agitation. In the course of a week he
succeeded in procuring what he considered to be the seeds.
These, when ripe, he savs, burst asunder transversely in the
middle, with a kind of explosion. They appear therefore
to have l)een, in reality, capsules containing seeds. They
were inclosed in a bright mucus, immiscible with sea wa-
ter, and likewise specifically heavier than it; so that this
mucus was calculated to serve the double purpose of car-
rying the seeds to the bottom, and fixing them to the rocks.
He thus ascertained that some marine plants scatter their
seeds when ripe, without awaiting the decay of the frond.
The next point was to cause the seeds to germinate. He
took some pebbles and small fragments of rock from the
beach, the surfaces of which he considered as having been
thoroughly purified by friction ; and after having drained off
the greater part of the water in the jars, he poured the re-
maining drops on the stones. He left tliem to dry for some
time, that the seeds might fix themselves. He then placed
the stones in wide-mouthed jars, and alternately sunk them
for some hours in sea-water, and exposed them to the air
and rain, in order to imitate their peculiar situation be-
tween high and low water mark. In less than a week, a
thin membrane was discoverable on the stones, precisely
on the spots where the drops of ^vater containing the seeds
had been poured, and where of course the seeds had lodged.
This membrane gradually extended itself and became of a
blackish olive colour. There at last appeared mucous pa-
pilkie or buds corning up from the membrane. These buds
were somewhat hollow in the centre, from whence a shoot
pushed forth : in some instances they seemed to rise on a
short thick footstalk, and in this case resembled minute pe-
ziz-ae, favouring the supposition that other fuci besides F.
loreus present at their base the mushroom appearance,
though on a very reduced scale.

Till within these few years, the fructification of the fuci
■was little known ; and even yet it is not by any means well
understood. To the minute and accurate investigations of
Mr Turner, Mr Hooker, Sir J. E. Smith, the late Miss
Hutciiins, and Mr Sowerby, jun. we are much indebted.
But the fructification of the largest species in the world, F.

pyriferus and buccinalis, and even of some of the largest
and most common liriiish species, such as F. digitatus,
filum, and aculcatus, still remains to be discovered. Of
the nature of the fructification of the caulcrpse, no conjec-
ture has hitherto been fonned.

15y attending to the characters in Lamourorix's arrange-
ment, a general idea may be gathered of the families of fuci
in which the diU'ercnt kinds of fructification occur, whether
consisting of receptacles, tubercles, capsules, or patches.
It seems imneccssary, therefore, to enlarge much on this
s\djject. A few farther remarks on the double mode of
fructification^ may however be propei'. This double mode,
it will be i-emcmbcrcd, occurs titlicr on the same plant, or
on separate individuals of the same species ; and it is of
various kinds, some of which may be mentioned.

a. On dift'erent individuals of the same species, globular
capsules and lanceolate capsules arc observed, as in F. sub-
fuscus, alalus, pinastroidcs [Turn. t. 11.), and coccineus :
(see Plate CCLXI. Fig. 10, U.) and both these kinds of
capsules sometimes occur on the same frond of the last
named species. This fact did not escape ISIr Stackliouse ;
for in his jVereis Briiannicn, he makes it part of the specific
character of F. coccineus, that it bears polymorphous fruc-
tification; and Mr Tuiner, in his Synofisis, afterwards di-
vided it into two varieties, one with spherical capsules, the
other with lanceolate or elliptical capsules.

b. On the same individual, lineari-lanoeolate capsules,
and also pedunculate capsules of an urceolate form, as in
F\dentatus. (Plate CCXLI. Fig. 8, 9.)

c. Lanceolate capsules and small patches of naked seeds
are found on the same plant ; as in F. hypoglossum, (Turn.
t. 14.)

(/. Ovate capsules and spherical immersed seeds, on the
same individual ; as in F. dasyphyllus, {Turn. t. 22.)

e. Ovate and oblong capsules, on the same plant ; as in
F. acanthophorus of Lamouroux, {Turn. t. 32.)

f Cilia containing seeds, on the margins and midrib of
the plant; and spherical tubercles immersed in obovate
processes on difl'ercnt parts of the plant ; as in F. sinuosus.
(Plate CCLXI. Fig. 6, 7.)

g. Urceolate sessile capsules on one plant, and naked
seeds immersed in the frond on another plant of the same
species; as in F. articulatus. It is a remark of M. Lamou-
roux, that the double fructification is never found on the
truly articulated sea-weeds, that is, the marine confervse :
but in this he seems mistaken, as the double mode occurs
in the plant named Fucus fruticulosus, {Turn. t. 227),
which, as Mr Turner properly remarks, belongs to the con-
fervse.

In a few capsuliferous species, as F. plumosus and flac-
c'ldiia, {Turn. t. 61), the seeds, or what are reckoned the
seeds, are not inclosed in proper capsules, but merely sur-
rounded by setc'e, producing the appearance of an involu-
crum. In the large species, F. saccliarinus and bulbosus,
the fructification is in iircgular patches on the frond, and
consists of a profusion of seeds imbedded among whitish
fibres, but without any covering or epidermis. Mr Bro-
die of lirodie, in a communication to Mr Turner, {Hist.
Fuc. vol. iii. p. 62.) very aptly compares a section of the
last-named species when in fruit, and placed under the mi-
croscope, to a section of a syngenesious flower, with the
seeds protruding from the receptacle among the bristly-
pappus.

It has already been stated, that in some species there are
found both seeds in tubercles, and seeds scattered in the
substance of the frond. Mr Turner was at one time of
opinion, that the seeds in the tubercles might become sub-
sequently disseminated through the frond ; but more care-

480

lUCJ.

fill examination witli the iiiici-oscopc, eiiabled him to satisfy
himself that the capsular gramiles clifTcr as to shape from
those which lie iiaUecl in the IVontl.

He is inclined to believe, that those plants on which the
two modes of fructification occur on different individuals,
are truly dioecious, thousrh a plant, possessing each mode
of fructification, may frequently arise from the same basis,
and thus occasion ambiguity. Dr Solander, it may be re-
marked, first suggested that these might be male and fe-
male. It would evidently be almost a hopeless attempt, to
endeavour to observe the mode of impregnation in their
native element; and it is not improbable that this may for
ever remain among the arcana of nature.

A few species Itave a proliferous tendency, putting forth
peltate leaves, ready to Icngtlien into branches, if the plant
have suflicient vigour. Mr Turner seems to think it pro-
bable, that, like the bulbs of allia, these new productions
inay fall off when the frond decays, and shoot up into inde-
pendent individuals. Some species, that have broad ter-
minal receptacles, have been observed occasionally to be-
come viviparous, particularly 1". vesiculosus and serratus ;
the seeds vegetating while in the receptacles, and thus pro-
ducing the viviparous character.

We have already seen, that what Stackhotise considered
as seeds, were probably capsules, as they burst asunder
and discharged smaller bodies. Turner makes the remark,
that the seeds of different species have been observed to
discharge very minute granular globules ; and with that
candour and diffidence which distinguish the accurate ob-
server, he confesses his doubts whether the small bodies,
generally accounted seeds, may not themselves be seed-
vessels. It may be remarked, indeed, that his representa-
tion of the bursting of a ca/isule, (^Hisl. Fuc. t. 181.), and
his figure of a seed pouring out its contents, (t. 61), bear
the greatest resemblance to each other. The seeds of fuci,
in.general, must be very minute : they seem to abound im-
perceptibly in the sea, as the impalpable seeds of fungi,
imisci, and lichens, do in the air.

In most of the tuberculiferous fuci there are visible, be-
sides the seeds, and intermixed with them, numerous ellip-
tical/je/Zuci^ ^ra?!!i/fs, much more minute than the seeds;
together also with many &\x\-:x\\ jointed fibres, among which
the seeds and pellucid granules lie imbedded.

Duration of Fuci, arid thdr Rafiidity of Growth.

The fuci, like land plants, reach maturity in different
spaces of time, and endure for different periods. Many of
the smaller and more delicate are annual; others of the
herbaceous kind seer.i to be biennial, or at least frequently
perish at the end of tlie second season; and many continue
for several seasons. Those with stems of woody texture
endure for a considerable number of years, in situations
where they are protected from the violence of the waves
during storms. Old stems of Fucus digitatus are frequent-
ly to be observed, not only completely invested witli para-
sitic fuci, ccnfcr-\3S, and flusti'je, like old trees with liciiens
and mosses, but with the epideimis and bark become split
and rough, and loosened fiom the woody part of the stem.

The well known Fucus saccharinus has been observed
to renew its frond in a very curious way, the new growth
proceeding from the base, and pushing before it the old
frond after it has discharged its office, in the same way as
the human nails are renewed. " The plant," observes Mr
Turner," thus acquires a perennial growth, and as Tibul-
lus beautifully says of the serpent, »7oi'?(s exuit antios." It
is the opinion of Mr Turner, that Fucus agarum (t. 75.) re-
views its frond in the same way.

In judging whether a fucus belongs to the class of au-

nirals or perennials, besides attending to the general struc-
ture and habit, Lamouroux has pointed out another mark :
he has very commonly found, that those iuci, which bear
their fructification on the branches, are perennial, while
those which have it on the tips of the fronds are annual.

It is remarked by Mr Turner, that the smaller and more
delicate sea-weeds produce their fruit in tlie beginning of
autumn ; while the larger and coarser species prefer for
this purpose the " stormy months of winter." Ilut the ra-
pidity of growth of some of the large coriaceous kinds
throughout the winter is wonderful, and it is believed has
only of late been fully ascertained. The facts shall there-
fore be stated with some minuteness of detail. They were
observed in the course of the very arduous undertaking of
erecting a stone-beacon on a low rock called the Carr, situ-
ated near the entrance of the Fiith of Forth: and when we
mention as the observer the distinguished civil engineer
Mr Stevenson, a man accustomed to habits of accurate ob-
servation, it is perhaps superfluous to add, that particular
attention was bestowed at the request of the writer of this
article, and specimens of the fuci transmitted to him. The
Carr Rock is about 20 feet broad, and 60 feet long: it is
only uncovered at the lowest ebb of spring tides. It was
completely clothed with the larger fuci, particularly Fucus
esculcntus and F. digitatus. In the course ol autumn 1813,
the workmen had succeeded in clearing out and levelling
with the pick and axe a considerable part of the foundation
of the intended beacon, when, in the beginning of Novem-
ber, the operations were necessarily abandoned for the win-
ter. At this time the rock was reduced to a bare state.
The coating of sea-weed had at first been cut away by the
workmen ; the roots or bases were afterwards trampled by
their feet; and much of the surface of the rock had been
chiselled. Upon returning' to the Carr in May 1814, in or-
der to recommence operations, it was matter of no slight
surprise to find the surface again as completely invested
with large sea-weeds as ever it was, although little more
than six months had elapsed since the work had been left
off, when, as already said, the rock was cleared of weed. In
particular it was observed, that many newly produced spe-
cimens of Fucus esculentus measured six feet in length,
and were already furnished with the small appendages near
the base, or pinnse, which at maturity contain the seeds of
the plant. Lightfoot mentions four feet as the ordinary
length of this fucus, but adds, that it sometimes reaches
nine feet. Those at the Carr Rock, therefore, were nearly
full sized. The common tangle, F. digitatus, was general-
ly only about two feet long; but this species when fully
grown seldom exceeds three or four feet. It is to be ob-
served, that tlie specimens here alluded to were taken from
that part of the surface of the rock which had been dressed
off with the pick and chisel the preceding autumn, they
had therefore grown from the seed ; and indeed it was re-
marked, in general, that the sea-weeds had grown more
luxuriantly on tiie newly-dressed rock, which is sandstone,
than from the old stools, which had been merely cut over,
or trodden down by the workmen's feet. It appears, there-
fore, that tlie seeds of these fuci, floating about abundantly
in the waters of the Fiith of Forth, must have attached
themselves to the dressed surface of the sandstone after the
middle of November, and must have vegetated and increas-
ed with great rajiidity during a winter remarkable for se-
verity : for this, it will be remembered, was the winter of
the great frost, as it was stiled, which continued nearly the
whole of the month of January 1814, and of which a very
full account will be found in the Scots Magazine for Febru-
ary of that year. Other circumstances, it may be observed,
were here favourable to their growth. During the winter
and spring months, the Carr Rock must have been almost

FUCl.

481

constantly under water. The incessant struggle of the tides
at Fifeness is calculated lo produce that degree of agita-
tion which has long been considered favourable lo the
growth of the stronger sea-weeds ; and this does not seem
to have been interrupted by the rolling of heavy waves for
many weeks during winter.

If, however, still further proof of the rapid grovi'th were
■wanted, the experience of the following season afforded
ample evidence. In autumn 1814, a course of large hewn
freestone was completed, and the operations were again
suspended till the following summer. It was as late as
the beginning of July 1815, before the weather permitted
boats to appioach the rock at low water; when, on the new
course of the beacon, a crop of Fucus esculentus was found,
the fronds of which measured on an average six feet long,
and were, as before, furnished with pinnae. This must of
necessity have been the growth of not more than eight
months from the time of the very minute seeds having at-
tached themselves to the hewn stone.

The opinion of Lamouroux, therefore, that during win-
ter the vegetation of sea plants is suspended, like that of
land plants, is proved to be erroneous.

It may here be mentioned, that Dr Walker states,* on
the authority of the kelp-makers, that " sea-weeds do not
grow so much in seven years upon freestone as they do in
two years on whinstone." The facts above detailed shew
that this remark is not universally applicable, although it
may be true of the loose masses of stone on the shores,
which, if soft, must be liable to be worn by the striking of
smaller boulder stones.

It is not improbable, that the growth of the large pela-
gic fuci may even be much more rapid than that now de-
.scribed. The Fucus giganteus of the Pacific Ocean attains
several hundred feet in length : Forster mentions speci-
mens even 800 feet long. In the bays of this country, F.
filum frequently reaches 30 or 40 feet, and in some places,
as Scalpa Flow in Orkney, this is considered as the growth
of the summer and autumn months, from May to October.

General Structure, i^c. of Fuci.

From the characters of the orders in Lamouroux's ar-
rangement, some notion of the general structure of the dif-
ferent tribes of marine plants must already have been ac-
quired. In treating farther of the same subject, brevity
shall therefore be studied.

In general it may be ol)served, that some species are co-
riaceous, often branched and shrub-like; some are mem-
branaceous, and traversed by a longitudinal nerve or mid-
rib ; others are filiform, generally not jointed : they produce
receptacles, tubercles, or capsules ; and most of them are
furnished with air-vesicles.

Decandolle considers marine plants as composed entirely
of cellular tissue ; attributing the difference of structure
observable in the stems, the midribs or nerves, and the
fronds, to modificalions in tlie form of this cellular tissue.
Mirbel is of the same opinion. It is certain that all the
parts of sea plants are much more nearly of uniform tex-
ture than in land plants in general ; most of them seeming
to be capable of changing into others; the peduncle be-
coming a branch, the air-vesicle a frond, and so on. La-
mouroux, however, has remarked, that the stem of Fucus
digitatus is formed of four distinct parts, analogous in si-
tuation, relative size, and even organization, to the epider-
mis, bark, wood and pith of dicotyledonous plants. It per-
haps requires some aid from the imagination to enable the
observer to see all this. But it is certain that a section of

the stem of Fucus digitalus forms a curious microscopic
object, and that it is distinctly perceived to be composed of
longitudinal parallel jointed colourless fibres, disposed in
concentric circles, ancl constituting altogether a pretty solid
mass. Laniouioux has likewise discovered, or imagined
he has discovered, in certain sea-weeds belonging to differ-
ent tribes, most of the characters which distinguish the
brilliant corollas of plijenogamous plants, the stems and
leaves of trees, and the herbaceous structure in general.

That marine algae are not furnished witli continuous ves-
sels of the same nature as those of land plants is obvious,
from the well known remark, that, if one jjortion of a sea
plant be pluiignd in water, and the other left exposed to the
air, only the immersed portion remains in vigour ; no fluid
seems to rise speedily enough through the frond to nourish
or refresh the other part of the plant. The result of micro-
scopic observation, and attempts at injection, support the
same view. On the other hand, the fructification of some
families, as the Fucaceae and Florideae of Lamouroux, is
observed to be placed almost always on the stems or
branches, near to the masses of fibres, or at their extremi-
ties. In the Dictyodeae of the same writer, the more regu-
lar and visible the structure of the reticulations, or cellular
tissue, appears, the situation of the fructification is found
to be more uniform ; and the less regular and distinct, the
fructification is more scattered. The production of cap-
sules regularly at the extremities of branches or fronds,
which IS observed in many species, proves the existence of
some kind of vessels, and the elaboration of particular
fluids. Upon the whole, therefore, as something analogous
to circulation is indispensable, the masses of fibres, or cel-
lular tissue with lengthened cells, may be considered as
calculated to perform the functions of longitudinal vessels.
Horizontal vessels are distinctly seen in some species, par-
ticularly F. vesiculosus and nodosus.

Some of the fuci are quite cartilaginous in texture ; such
as the stem and midrib of F. esculentus, and the whole
plant of F. aculeatus. A few species dissolve into jelly on
being placed in boiling hot water. Some are quite flexible
when recent, and become stiff and apt to break vfhen dry':
others, on the contrary, as the genus Dictyopteris of La-
mouroux, are stiff and frangible when living, and become
flexible when dried.

The jointed structure of the frond was long considered
as characteristic of Conferva ; but this, it is now admitted,
does not effectually distinguish them from several fuci,
such as F. fruticulosus and pinastroides, or even some li-
chens and fungi ; and it has therefore been abandoned as a
generic distinction. Lamouroux remarks, that it is easy
to distinguish the truly articulated sea-weeds, or marine
confervae, from those fuci that are marked by contractions
or partitions. If the stem of these last be cut longitudinally,
the substance shews no mark of interruption, but appears
quite homogeneous. In the former, the tissue appears at
every joint to change its quality and form, and the colour
varies. Some of the small cylindrical fuci seem to acquire
the appearance of contractions or partitions just before the
time of fructification; nature perhaps producing these par-
titions, to give firmness to the stems, or to delay the cir-
culation of the juices,and make them undergo a more com-
plete elaboration at this crisis. It was first observed by
Mr Dillwyn, that the aculei of F. aculeatus are regularly
jointed, and that the main filaments towards their extremi-
ties have a jointed internal tube: all of these jointed ap-
peararrces vanish as the plant grows old. The tufted fibres
of F. radiciformis [Turn. t. 189) are also jointed; as are
those likewise of F.'pedunculatus (t. 188). F. dasyphyllus

Vot. IX. Part. IL

* Tramactions of the Highland Society, vol. i. p. 27.

5 P

482

FUCI.

(t. 22,) it may be noticed, is sometimes, but rarely, jointed ;
generally it is without jiiints.

No part of the structure of fiici has more universally
attracted notice than the inflated portions of the stem or
frond resembling bladders, seen in many species, and par-
ticularly conspicuous in the well known F. vesiculosus and
nodobus. (See Plate CCLXI. Fig. 4, 5.) They are now
generally denominated Air-vesicles, or simply Vesicles.
IVIost of the sea-weeds having a texture approaching to
ligneous, are provided with distinct air-vesicles; and those
that arc not so provided, have in their stems empty spaces,
sometimes visible to the naked eye. These probably serve
the purpose of air-vessels : they proceed from the root or
base, rise with the stem, and disappear in the frond.

Formerly, the air-vesicles were generally supposed to be
the male fructification. The generic character of F'ucus,
given by Linnaeus, was the following: '■'■Male., Vesicles
smooth, hollow, with villose hairs within, interwoven. Fe-
male Vesicles smooth, filled with jelly, sprinkled with im-
mersed grains, prominent at the tip, seeds solitary." If
the reader imagine to himself the application of this cha-
racter to the common V. nodosiis, he will perceive, that by
male vesicles, must be meant the air-bladders; and byyi;-
7nale vesicles, Ihc receptacles, the immersed grains firomi-
■yie-nt at the ti/i, being a sufliciently distinct description of
the tubercles. They were afterwards for a long time con-
sidered as destined merely to give buoyancy to the plant.
It is now, however, generally believed, that they serve
some important purpose in the economy of sea-weeds.
Lamouroux considers them as respiratory organs ; and he
observes, that where they are wanting, the organization is
less complicated, and the vital functions are more simple,
lie aihrins, that sea plants exert the same action on atmos-
pheric air as land plants. The ligneous fucaceae, he says,
absorb oxygen during the night, and give it out during the
day, though in very small quantity. Analogy would lead
us to consider this statement as probably correct ; but
whether it is founded on direct experiment, is not explain-
ed by the author. The Florideae, he adds, exhale less
oxygen than the former. They retain it^ in his opinion, in
order to produce the biilliant tints which adorn them. The
Ulvaccas, like herbaceous land plants, give out by the ac-
tion of light, a great quantity of oxygen gas, and a little
carbonic acid. The decomposition of the atmospheric air
must take place in the vesicles, or in the spaces or cells
already alluded to; these perhaps at once serving as reser-
voirs, and as organs for decomposing the air. On some
species, vesicles have never yet been found ; but Turner
is inclined to think, that none are entirely and at all times
destitute of them ; so that the division " absque vesiculis"
iriight be given up.

Many fuci, such as the common F. vesiculosus and ser-
ratus, have small tufts of white filaments like hairs scatter-
ed over their surface. Reaumur conjectured, that these
might be a sort of male flowers, and as such he described
them. In this notion, he was followed by some distinguish-
ed botanists. But they are now known to be analogous
merely to the hairs on land plants, and to be useful proba-
lily for the secretion or absorption of particular fluids. It
has generally been said, that they occur on the plant in
every stage of its growth, and at all seasons of the year.
Lamouroux, however, asserts, that they are not permanent,
but disappear at certain seasons, and at certain stages of
the life of the plant. They are never seen on the stem or
-Ihe nerve, but on the frond only.

■ It does not appear probable that the submersed algre
derive much of their nourishment from the processes by
which they are attached to rocks or other substances,
although these processes in many instances resemble

roots, ai)d usually receive that name. It appears likely, ^
that the principal part of their food is imbibed by their f
general sui face. Tliey are attached to rocks of mica-slate, •*
greenstone, basalt, sandstone, and limestone. Many of the
smaller kinds grow on the stems of the larger plants. It
is to be observed, however, that Mr Turner, in the intro-
duction to his Synofisis cf British Fuci, hints it as his opi-
nion, tl'.at the root-like processes are not merely intended
for fixing the plants, but are to a certain degree useful as
organs of nutrition ; and he mentions that some species
seem peculiar to chalk, soinc to sandstone, and others to
still harder rocks. On the other hand, at least one species,
Fucus bacciferus of Turner, (t. 47), has never been found
with a root or base : it evidently lives and increases while
floating about. The extensive meadows of sea-weeds,
through which navigators to distant countries continue to
sail for days in the unfathomable ocean, and which arc
found in a fresh and growing state, afford convincing evi-
dence that certain kinds of fuci at least are not entirely,
nor even chiefly, dependant on their roots for nourishment.
M. Desvaux, editor of the Journal dc Botanique, has lately
made a direct experiment on this subject. Having detach-
ed some fuci above the roots, he fixed them to stones by
means of cords or other artificial methods, and plunged
them again in the sea. Having visited them some lime af-
ter, he found that they had increased very sensibly.

Some authors have supposed that the fuci are nourished
by.their mucilage: but this is only removing the difficulty-
one step; and besides, particular species, as F. esculentus,
possess little or no mucilage. It has been remarked, how-
ever, that the cups or discs of F. lorcus become flaccid
and destitute of juice, whenever the thongs of the plant
have attained full size; and this has been ascribed to the
exhaustion of the mucilage by their growth.

The Caulerpae of Lamouroux creep in the sand, and
seem to possess true roots; but these, tliough at present
associated with the fuci, form not only a very distinct ge-
nus, but a separate family.

Colours of Fuci.

The colours of sea weeds have not yet been much at-
tended to. A great proportion of the fuci are of an olive
hue ; olive brown, olive yellow, or olive green. A good
many are red or brownish red. Some are verdigris green,
particularly F. aeruginosus, (^Tjirn. t. 14'.) a species from
the Red Sea, resembling Lichen prunastri, and F. Valen-
tise, (t. 78), brought also from the Red Sea, by the noble-
man whose name it bears ; the latter rendered more re-
markable by producing bright red spherical tubercles,
which form a striking contrast with the glaucous fro.id.

Some phxnomena not uninteresting to the physiological
chemist are slightly mentioned by Professor Mertens in the
Allge7neine literatur Zeitung for 1810, in his critique on Mr
Turnei '= History of Fuci. He states that F. ligulatus and F.
viridis (I'urn. t. 97.) possess the property of suddenly alter-
ing the colour of oth.er fuci along with which they happen
to be steeped in a vessel full of fresh water; the red colour
of Conferva rubra, or Fucus ovalis, being changed to pur-
ple, and these plants rendered at the same time much more
prone to decomposition, while the ligulatus and viridis re-
main unhui't. F. viridis itself undergoes remarkable
changes. While the plant is growing, it is of * deep rich
orange; but, says Mr Turner, "no botanist can have
gathered it without being struck by the circumstance, that
before he had conveyed it home, it had changed its origi-
nal golden hue to a bright verdigris green." At the same
time, it undergoes a change in its substance ; from being
stiff and elastic, it becomes completely flaccid.

B'UCI.

48;

Humboldt and Bonpland describe,* under the name of
Fucus vitifolius, (as already mentioned,) a sjjecics of a fine
grass green colour, brought up, at I'Alegraiiza, from the
gVeat depth of 192 feet, at which depth it had vegetated.
The light at that depth could only have been equal to half
the light of an ordinary candle ; yet, according to Hum-
boldt's experiments, common garden-cresses, cxjiosed dur-
ing vegetation to the light of two Argand's lamjjs, acquire
only a slight tint of green. That distinguished philosopher
therefore concludes, that it is only under the influence of
the solar rays, however weak, that the carburet o( hydrogen
is foimed in the organs of plants, the presence of which
makes the parenchyma appear of a lighter or darker green,
according as the carbon preponderates in the mixture.

The colour of all the soft and annual fuci depends on a
very fugacious extractive. Tiiose that are horny in texture
retain their colour with more force. Several of them be-
come of a greenish hue when boiled; and every one who
has seen dulse fried, must have remarked the change to
green produced by the application of heat. The ultimate
tendency to a green hue observable in several species, may
probably be ascribed to the more complete developement
of the alkali contained in the plant.

To the botanist it may be useful to know, that when
there is reason to suspect that the appearance of the plant
is changed by exposure to the air or rains, the original co-
lour may often be detected by holding up the specimen
against a strong light. For example, F. sinuosus, which
is frequent on the stems of F. digitatus, and has fronds re-
sembling in shape the leaves of Alnus incana, is, when
fresh, of a rosy red colour; in decaying on the shore,
tliis changes first to violet, and tlien to tile red : but on
liolding the specimen against the light, the original rosy
hue may be detected. Wahlenberg notices concerning F.
plumosus, that when repeatedly washed in fresh water, it
becomes green ; that, in dijute muriatic acid, it preserves
its colour, and when removed from it becomes green, as if
an alkali had been poured on it.

Another species, I', ericoides, (Turn. t. 19 1), possesses
;he more extraordinary property of reflecting bright glau-
cous tints when seen under water in a growing state. It is
naturally of a yellowish green colour, but under water ap-
pears as if in a state of vivid phosphorescence. On with-
drawing it from the sea, the brightness vanishes'. The phe-
nomenon has not been thoroughly examined. This fucus
grows on the shores of Devonshire and Cornwall ; but Mr
Stackhouse, who spent his days in those districts, and had
many opportunities of observing the appearance, only says
that the colour resides in, or is occasioned by a slimy mu-
cus v/hich covers the frond. When dried, the plant be,-
comes of a reddish brown colour.

Concerning F. ligulatus, a species which occurs, though
not plentifully, on our shores, and is excellently figured by
L:ghtfoot in his Flora, (t. 29,) Professor Mertens mentions
a curious fact: in the sea it is of an olive green colour; but
as soon as it is brought in contact with the air, it becomes
of a deep orange, or rather the colour of decayed leaves.
The only specimens we have seen, which were taken from
the rubbish of a iishing-boat at Newhaven in the Frith of
Forth, were of a pale dull green ; but to this colour, Mer-
tens observes, the orange tint soon declines.

It has been remarked of some of the smaller and more
delicate fuci, that the same s|)ecies seems to vary in ap-
jjearance, size, and especially colour, according to the na-
ture of the substance to which it happens to be attached,
whether a stone oi shell, or the stem of a larger sea-weed,
lim this observation is by no means of universal applica-

tion. Variations arc more generally occasioned by the cli-
mate in which the plant grows; the depth of water; the
exposed or sheltered natui'e of the situation; or the proxi-
mity to the mouth of a river or body of fiesh water.

General Dinlribulioti of Fuci.

A few remarks on the general distribution of the fuci
may here be made. Some may be considered as properly
pelagic, as F. pyriferus, (Turn. t. 110), the giganteus of
Foster, or the badreux of the Falkland Islantls. This
sends out ijiimerous fronds, and the upper and undet
fronds are frequently found soldered as it were together,
at certain spots of the edges. This species occurs st*
abundantly in the South American seas as to resemble
islands, and it is one of the chief of the gigantic fuci al-
luded to by circumnavigators. Linnaeus merely says, that
it is the longest and largest of the fuci. Solander mea-
sured seme of the apices, and found them to be from ten
to twelve feet; but he gives no guess as to the length of
the entire plant, which is said to extend fron) 500 to 1000,
or even 1500 feet. F. /io/a/or;/m of Labillardiere, is another
of the great pelagic fuci, of such ample dimensions, that
particular parts of it furnish vaiious household implements
to the natives of New Holland.

Others, of a small si.ie, which are never found but in the
great ocean, may, it is thought, have originally been torn
from the shores: this is the case with the numerous species
which have long been confounded together under the con-
venient name of Fucus natans, and which constitute the
well known fields of floating sea-weeds met with in the
great oceans.

The fuci of the northern »eas are in general different in
character and appearance from those of the tropics or of
high southern latitudes. To take for example New Hol-
land. It is well known that the land plants of this singular
country have a peculiar character, arising chiefly from
many of the trees and shrubs being aphyllous, and many
others having leaves pointing upwards, or presenting both
surfaces equally to the light. The shores afford a tribe of
fuci equally diflferent from those of other parts of the
world. They belong to lUe fuci Jiro/irii, and are all com-
posed of a stem repeatedly pinnated with different series
of branches, the whole of which, as well as the stem itself,
are flat, and formed, as it were, of a set of distinct joints,
placed upon each other in a sort of zigzag direction ; the
branches almost always arising from the flat part of the
stem, and not, as in Europe, from the angles. This tribe
of fuci was brought to light by our justly celebrated coun-
tryman, Mr Bi'own, during his voyage with Captain Flin-
ders and residence in Van Uiemen's land already alluded
to, M. Labillardiere having happened to observe only one
species of the tribe : this one was the very remarkable F.
liajiksii, (Turn. t. I.) which occupies on the Australasian
shores the place of our vesiculosus. Instead of our ser-
ratus, these shores possess F. confluens, (Turn. t. 141.) a
sjjecies which resembles it, but wants the midrib. The
place of our large digitatus and bulbosus is there supplied
by a distinct species considerably resembling them, de-
scribed and figured by Mr Turner under the name of F.
radiatus, (t. 134.)

The temperature of the ocean in different regions may
be supposed to vary much less tiian that of the land : on
account of the moveable nature of the element, the means
(.)f tr.iMsportalion of fuci must be more easy than in tiie case
of land plants : and tl.e waters of tlie sea appear almost
every where to teem with the seeds of fuci. It is not sur-

riuntje ji;quinoctialis, vol. ii. p. 8, t. G9.

P 2

484

FUCI.

prising, therefore, that some tropical species should make
their nppearance in high latitudes, or liiat particular kinds
should be found in places the most remote from eacli other,
and climates the most opposite. Fucus agarum is found
chiefly in the Indian Ocean; but it occurs also at Nova Scotia
and in Hudson's Bay. F. canilagineus of Linnaeus, [Turn. t.
124), which is abundant at the Cape of Good Hope, and
often gathered tliere to form ornamental pictures, is found
also on the shores of Finmark; and F. Ilagelliformis of Flora
Danica, (t. 650.) is foinid both at the North Cape of Nor-
way, and at tlie southern promontory of Africa. Some are
most widely distributed over the globe, but are not abun-
dant in any particular quarter. F. musciformis of Wulfen
(Jac. Coll. iii. t. 14 ) has been found on the coast of France
in the Adriatic, oft' the coast of Egypt, at Ceylon, in the
West Indies, at New Zealand, and in Nootka Sound. F.
thyrsoides is marked by Mr Turner (vol. i. p. 38 ) as found
at New Zealand by Sir Joseph Banks, at Jamaica by Dr
Wright, and in the Red Sea by Lord Valentia. F. turbina-
tus, Lin. (Turn. t. 24 ) is a native equally of the seas of the
East and West Indies. F. acanthophorus of Limouroux,
{Turn. t. 32.) is found on the coast of North America and
in the Red Sea. F. Wrightii of Turner, (t. 148.) on the
shores of Jamaica and the Red Sea. F. triangularis {Turn.
t. 33.) has been picked up at Jamaica, New Holland, and
New Zealand. Several species inhabit the shores on both
sides of the Atlantic, as the common kelp weeds, F. vesi-
culosus and nodosus. F. dentatus, which is common in the
Frith of Forth, grows also in the Chesapeak. Some other
British species are very widely disseminated over the
world. The elegant pinastroides of our shores was ob-
served on the coast of New Zealand by Sir Joseph Banks,
and has been found also at Ceylon. F. fibrosus (Tjin;. t.
209.) is common to England and the coast of Guiana; F.
plicatus, to this country and New Holland. F. lomentosus,
{Turn. t. 135) which occurs on the southern shores of
England and Ireland, has been found also in the Mediter-
ranean, in Nootka Sound, and at the Cape of Good Hope.
A very common British species, F. siliquosus, inhabits
likewise the Mediterranean and Adriatic, and has been
observed at Newfoundland, and in the Chinese seas.

A local disposition may be traced in some cases. In the
East Indies, for example, the Straits of Sunda have afford-
ed two curious species, with leaves resembling holly and
dwarf-oak, F. aquifolius and ilicifolins of Turner (t. 50, 5 1 .)
The uncommon looking F. muricatus of the same author,
(t. 112,) is a native of the same Straits. None of these
have hitherto been found elsewhere. F. tenax, {Turn. t.
125.) one of the most useful of the trilje, is peculiar to the
seas of China. The Caulerpas may be considered as be-
longing to the Red Sea and New Holland. At tlie Cape
of Good Hope, the place of our digitatus and bulbosus is
occupied by F. buccinalis, {Turn, t 139.) which is often
observed floating about in great quantity, and from its fis-
tular and inflated stem, has received from navigators the
mmcoi trumfiet-iveed: by them its appearance is hailed as
a sure prognostic of the vicinity of the Cape. F. flaccidus
of Turner (t. 61.) is there parasitical on the larger fuci,
like alatus and coccineus with us. Two Cape species are
remarkable for being elegantly fringed along the margin,
F. criijaceus {Turn. t. 26.) and F. vittatus, or ribbon weed,
(t. 64.) Some are peculiar to the north-west coasts of
Am-tiica, Among these may be mentioned F. Menziesii,
{Turn. t. 27.) named in honour of Mr Menzies, who at-
tended Captain Vancouver in his voyage of discovery, but
whose valuable researches in the department of natural
history are brought to light only in a tardy and almost ac-
cidental manner, he having received no encouragement
from Government to publish his many botanical disco-

veries. To it may be added F. hcibaceus, of Turner, (t. J
90,) resembling a broad-fronded ligulatus; two others of ^
Turner, F. osmundaceus (t. 105.), cordatus (t. 116.), and
F. floccosus of Esper (Jconea, t. 100.) ; with F. costatus ol
Turner, (t. 226.) curiously ribbed. Others of the north-
west American species are found also in other countries:
F. bracteatus (Hist. Fuc. t. 25.) occurs at the Cape, and F.
ovalis {Id t. 81.) is common to Nootka Sound and the
shores of Britain. A few may be set down as peculiar to
the Mediterranean, as F. nervosus, ofDecandolle {Turn. t.
43.), and linifolius of Turner, (t. 168.) F. purpurens, (//wr.
Fuc. t. 224.) is very plentiful in the Mediterranean ; but it
is likewise found in the Red Sea. F. viridis, which is met
with on the southern shores of England, but so sparingly
as to be accounted a botanical discovery, occurs abundantly
as a parasite on F. vesiculosus and serr-atus on the coast of
France. These, as is well known, are two of our most
common kelp fuci on the shores of Scotland; but in this
country F. viridis never appears upon them. The very
elegant small species F. asparagoides and Wigghii {HUi.
Fuc. t. 101, 102.) have not, it is believed, been found be-
yond the precincts of the British islands, and have more
frequently occurred on the beach at Yarmouth than else-
where. 1''. pusillus seems also to be local, and is described
as creeping like a jungermannia,on the red sandstone rocks
at Sidmouth in Devonshire. (Aer. Brit, t. 6.) A few may
be ranked as arctic species ; particularly F. distichus of
LinnsEus, {Turn. t. 4.) and ranientaceus, (t. 149.) F. lyco-
podioides grows plentifully on the most remote shores of
Norway, and occurs sparingly on the coast of Scotland.
F. soboliferus {Flor. Dan. t. 1066.) is common in Finmark,
and has been detected on the shores of the Orkney Islands
by Mr Fothergill. F. plumosus is one of the ornaments
of the shoi-es of the south of England ; but it increases in
size and beauty as we proceed northwards, and is much
finer in Orkney than in Cornwall : it has been observed
even in Davis Straits.

Many species, which grow most abundantly on all the
shores of Europe which are exposed to the great ocean,
are not to be found in the Baltic Sea, the waters of which
are less salt, and are little affected by the influence of the
tides. Hasselquist, in his Travels, expresses delight at
meeting with our common F. saccharinus when he first
cleared the Baltic. Some of those species, particularly F.
vesiculosus, which gi'ow very far up in the lochs or friths
of the west of Scotland, do not appear in the Baltic, l".
nodosus and serratus, it may be added, continue near to the
heads of the Scottish arms of the sea; and F. canaliculatus
is found in the most extreme corners to which the sea-
beach can be said to extend ; being exceeded only by F.
amphibius, {Turn. t. 109,) which grows like a coralloidal
lichen, parasitically on herbaceous plants, in salt marshes.
On the banks of rivers too, where they enter the sea, F.
caniculatus is found very high up, even among the brack-
ish water.

On our open sea-shores a certain order is observed in
the habitat of the fuci, each species occupying pretty re-
gularly its own zone or station. F. Slum or sea-laces
gi'ows in water some fathoms deep. In places where the
tide seldom entirely ebbs, but gener-ally leaves from two to
three feet of water, grow F. esculenlus and bulbosus, and
the larger specimens of digitatus and saccharinus, with
some small kinds, as F. palrnatus, siliquosus, and sangui-
neus. In places uncovered only at the lowest ebbs, small-
er plants of digitatus and saccharinus abound, with F.
loreus or seathongs. On the beaches uncovered by every
tide, F. seri-atus occurs lowest down, along with crispus
and mamillosus ; next comes F. nodosus ; and higher up,
F. vesiculosus. Beyond this F. canaliculatus (already men-

FUCI.

485

tioned) still grows, thriving very well if only wet at flootl
tide, and though liable to become dry and shrivelled duriii;;;
a great part of the day. Lastly, F. pygmneus, figured by
Lightfoot, (t. 32.) is satisfied if it be within reaeh of the
spray.

I^loating Sea-weeds.

The great accumulations of sea-weed found floating in
the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian Oceans, on each side of
the equator, nearly to the 40th degree of north and south
latitude, have already been alluded to; but they are not
undeserving of further attention.

The Mar do Sargasso (or sea of sea-weeds) of the Por-
tuguese, stretches between the 18lh and 32d parallels of
north latitude, and the 25th and 40th meridians of west
longitude. It is often called the Grassy Sea, and is men-
tioned by many navigators. It is thus described by Bar-
row, in his Voyage to Cochinchina : " The surface of the
sea for several days was literally covered with plants.
Some of them were many feet in diameter; others only a
few inches: all appeared in a growing state. The globose
berries (by which Mr Barrow means the air-vesicles) were
in some plants green ; in others red. If taken out of the
■water, the plant became flaccid, and in the space of four
and twenty hours turned brown or black. Tlie naturalist
in every plant may find a great variety of marine insects and
worms, some naked and others with testaceous coverings.
Those plants with green vesicles, it may be remarked, were
probably specifically distinct from such as had red.

It is stated by Humboldt in his Personal Narrative, that
in the great basin of the Atlantic Northern Ocean, there
exist two banks of floating sea-weed. The most extensive
is a little west of the meridian of Fayal, one of the Azores,
between latitude 25° and 36°. Violent north winds some-
times prevail in this space, and drive the sea-weed to the
low latitudes, as far as 24° or even 20°. Vessels returning
to Europe, either from Monte Video or the Cape of Good
Hope, cross the bank nearly at an equal distance from the
Antilles and Canaries. The other occupies a much small-
er space between 22° and 26°, eighty leagues west of the
meridian of the Bahama Islands. It is generally traversed
by vessels on the passage from the Caiques to the Ber-
mudas.

Columbus and Lerius encountered most extensive banks
of floating fuci in their adventurous voyage : they compare
them to extensive inundated meadows, and complain of
their impeding the progress of the vessels. So novel a
scene produced no little consternation and alarm in the
crew of the Santa Maria.

Detached patches of floating sea-weeds of various ex-
tent, but not deserving the name of banks or meadows, are
met with in different parts of the Atlantic. Bonpland ob-
seived such patches to the north of the Cape Veid Islands.

Linni'eus, speaking of Fucus natans in the Sfiecies Plan-
tarum, says, " Vegetabile, in fallor, inter omnia in orbe nu-
merosissimum." But under this title he included a con-
siderable number of species, indeeed all that generally oc-
cur in the " sea of sea-weeds." Turner was the first who
efl"ectually distributed the Linnaean Fucus natans into va-
rious species. He remarks that they form a tribe by thein-
selves, though very clearly allied to the Fuci /iro/irii of
Weber and Mohr. Their leaves never in any case length-
ening into branches, and their vesicles being altogether
empty, seem characteristic circumstances. It was formerly
thought that these floating sea- weeds were natives of the
Gulf of Mexico, and were carried across the Atlantic by
the Great Stream : hence the common name of Gulf-meed.
It is very evident, however, that the Gulf Stream would

convey them rather to the Banks of Newfoundland than to
the latitudes in which they usually occur; and it could not
in any case accumulate them to the south of the Azores.

There is no doubt that it was the opinion of Linriaeus
that they vegetated in the ocean, and floated about without
ever being attached. This notion is likewise now exploded.
Several of the species and varieties have been found with
roots or bases, and some have been gathered in their native
place of growth, where they were fixed to the rocks. It
appears likely that they grow on rocks, probably at very
considerable depths, in the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian
Oceans, whence they are carried, among other rejecta-
menta of the seas, to the shores of almost every country,
accumulating however on the surface of the ocean, in cer-
tain latitudes, owing to prevailing winds and currents.
Some are inclined to think, that, being torn from their na-
tive rocks before they attain maturity, they perfect their
seeds while in a floating state; and it seems not unlikely
that this may sometimes be the case. M. Humboldt, how-
ever, is of a different opinion : he thinks that vegetation can
scarcely continue for a longer time in a detached fluai.ing
sea-weed, than it would do in the branch of a tree torn from
its trunk ; and he considers these floating fields as com-
posed of plants which have passed maturity.

It is certainly very difficult to explain why great moving
masses of marine plants should be found for ages nearly
in the same local positions. When decaying, they may in-
deed be supposed to be carried away by the equinoctial
currents; which may scatter them even towards the coasts
of France and Norway. But how the fresh weed is suppli-
ed ; by what causes it is detached from depths perhaps of
forty or sixty fathoms, where it is generally thought the sea
scarcely suff'ers agitation, are problems which remain to
be solved. Laroouroux indeed states, that although fuci
adhere firmly before the fructification appears, they sepa-
rate very readily after this period; and Humboldt remarks,
that fish and muUuscous animals, by gnawing their stems,
may also contribute to detach them.

The spherical vesicles, supported on flat stalks, and re-
sembling juniper berries, interspersed on the stem and
branches of the plants, were erroneously regarded by Lin-
naeus as the fructification; but the true fructification, as
ascertained by Turner, occurs in the form of cylindrical
receptacles on the branches, inclosing globular tubercles,
which again contain the seeds. It may be noticed, that
Don Hippolyto Ruiz, in his Flora of Peru, a.nd in his pam-
phlet, " De vera Fuci natantis Fruclijicalione," described
the sexual organs of the floating sea-weeds in a manner
that surprised botanists in general. Stamens and pistils
were declared to be as obvious in this fucus as in most of
the phaenogamous vegetables ! But the observations of M.
Bonpland rectified the mistake of Ruiz. Certain appen-
dages, in the form of little cups and feathers, which he took
for the parts of fructification, were found, on close exami-
nation, to be nothing else than parasitical zoophytes be-
longing to the family of ceratophyta. When dried, they
effervesced with acids, as the calcareous substance of any
common sertularia or flustra would do.

Very frequently the spherical vesicles, which have al-
ready been compared to juniper berries, are as large as
small purple grapes, and have a striking resemblance to
them. For this reason, the name of Trofiic Grafie is often
applied to the floating sea-weed. As a proof that the ve-
sicles are intended, in the case of F. natans, chiefly to give
buoyancy to the plant, Ruiz states that, when the vesicles
are all cut off", the plant sinks.

The great collections of floating sea-weed which have
now been described are not without their use in the eco-
nomy of nature ; for they afford both food and shelter to

486

FUCL

myriads of fishes and mollusca, and probably tend, by giv-
ing foitli oxygen, to maintain the wholesome purity of the
sea. To the mariner, the young or most succulent shoots
of F. natans offer an acceptable salad, or they are prepared
as a picliie like samphire.

Economical Usen of Sea-weeds.

It is observable on most coasts, that sea- weeds, or many
species at least, very suddenly dibapi>ear from the rocks in
the autumn. They do not decay, like land plants, on the
spot where they grow ; but, losing their hold, are washed
away by the tides ; and, in the narrow seas at least, gene-
rally waited ashore, to offer their services to man. Among
the Romans, indeed, they were proverbially useless. When
they wished to stigmatise any thing as utterly worthless, it
was declared to be alt^d jirojccla. vilior ; and Horace, when
he speaks oi alga covering the shores as drift-ware, thrusts
in the epithet inulilis. In modern limes, the alga marina
has become useful and valuable in various respects. To
the agriculturist it furnishes a most important manure. To
the glass-maker and soap-boiler it yields the fixed alkali;
and the manufacture of kelp for this purpose, has become
a valuable source of revenue to the proprietors of the rocky
shores of Europe, particularly of Britain, and more espe-
cially to those of the Northern and Western Islands of
Scotland. Of such importance has this manufacture ap-
peared, that in some places attempts have even been made,
and not without success, to cultivate the fuci. By merely
covering sandy bays with large boulder stones, a crop of
fuci has been procured in the course of two or three years,
the sea appearing every where to abound with the neces-
sary seeds. From the ashes of the fuci the chemist has of
late years derived the very curious elementary substance
named iodine. Several of them are so rich in saccharine
matter, and vegetable mucilage, that on the shores of the
northern countries of Europe, and in the Scottish islands,
much of the winter provender of cattle is derived from
them ; and in the city of Edinburgh these plants are occa-
sionally given as a useful stimulus" to the stomach of milch- -
cows kept in confinement during the winter. A few of
them even afford food to man. What might least of all be
expected, two or three of them furnish fuel to the inhabi-
tants of coasts where materials for firing are scarce. Some
of the smaller sorts yield various condiments, or afford
fresh salads ; while others are employed as medicines.
From a few of them, substances useful in the arts are pro-
cured ; and with some of the more delicate and elegant spe-
cies, ornamental pictures are constructed.

While considering the difl'erent purposes to which ma-
rine plants may thus be applied, it maybe agreeable to the
reader to see the descriptions of those chiefly employed,
and more especially of such useful species as inhabit the
British shores. The descriptions, however, must consist
chiefly of the very accurate specific characters drawn up by
Mr Turner, to which some explanations shall be added,
where they seem requisite.

It is scarcely necessary to say, that every kind of sea-
weed may be employed as manure. In point of fact, what
is used for this purpose is that which is cast ashore by
storms in the winter months, consisting of all sorts, mixed
with zoophytes, and all the other rejectamenta of the sea.
In many places, the value of such manure is duly appre-
ciated; while in others it is unaccountably neglected; not
that it is any where entirely despised, but it frequently hap-
pens that on one day many tons of drift-ware are cast on a
particular shore, and that on the next the whole is swept
away. They wlio would avail themselves of this bounty of
the deep, must snatch the moment of its being, placed with-

in their power, and muster all hands to drag it at least be-
yond the reach of the returning tide. It must not be left
very long in the heap, nor suffered to tun into the putre-
factive fermentation ; for in this case, Eulphurcted hydro-
gen, and other gases higlily important in promotmg vege-
tation, escape rajiidly, and in gieat quantity ; leaving a com-
paratively inert mass. But for details as to the mode of
applying this manure to lands, so as best to secure-its fer-
tilizing effects, reference may be had to the article Agki-

CULTUIIE.

The nature of kelp, and the mode of its manufacture, are
now generally understood. It is a very impure carbonate
of soda ; containing sulphate and muriate of soda, and also
sulphuret of soda, with a portion of charcoal. In Scotland
the manufacture is cariied on chiefly in the months of July
and August. The kelp kiln is nothing but a round pit or
basin dug in the sand or earth on the beach, and surround-
ed with a few loose stones. In the morning a fire is kin-
dled in this pit, generally by means of peat or turf. This
fire is gradually fed with sea-weed, in such a state of dry-
ness that it will merely burn. In tiie course of eight or
ten hours, the furnace is found to be nearly full of melted
matter. Iron rakes are then drawn rapidly l)ackward and
forward through the mass in ttie furnace, in order to coui-
fiact it, or biing it into an equal state of fusion. It is then
allowed to cool, when it is broken in pieces, and carried
into a store-house, to remain till shipped.

The making of kelp from sea- weed was practised jii
France and England for more than half a century before
the manufacture was introduced into Scotland. Mr James
Fca of Whitehall in Stronsay was the first person in Ork-
ney who (about 1722) exported a cargo of telp; he sailed
with it himself to Newcastle ; and his success in the en-
tcrprize soon aroused the attention of th.e Orcadians. At
present, in coasting these islands, as well as the Hebrides,
in the summer months, great volumes of smoke are every
where to be seen rolling from the kelp furnaces, and the
peculiar odour, probably arising chiefly from muriatic acid
gas, is felt to a considerable distance. From 40,000/. to
50,000f. sterling, are thus yearly brought into the country;
but it must not be concealed, that in most of the islands
agriculture has suffered, from the attention of the small
tenants having been diverted from the land, and, by the in-
fluence of the landholders, turned almost exclusively to
the manufacture of kelp.

The fuci which are chiefly cut on our shores for this
manufacture, are Fucus vesiculosus, nodosus, and serra-
lus. In some places, F. loreus and filum are employed,
but not to a gi;eat extent. By means of a boat and long
sharp hooks or bills, F. digitatus is cut in some places;
and this species, together with F. saccharirius, bulbosus,
and esculentus, form much of the drift-ware employed in
making of kelp. Some of these are no doubt richer in the
alkaline salt than others ; but of all of them it may be said,
that when dry and fit for burning, they are capable of
yielding about one-fifth of their weight in kelp.

Besides the alkali, kelp affords, as already hinted, a pe-
culiar simple or hitherto undecomposed substance, named
iodine. It was discovered in the year 1812, by a manufac-
turer of saltpetre at Paris named Courtois, and has since
been examined by the most eminent French and English
chemists. It is readily procured by pouring concentrated
sulphuric acid on the mother water of kelp from which so-
da has been extracted, or from spent soapers' leys. Heat
is speedily produced, and the new substance appears as a
violet-coloured gas, perfectly homogeneous and transpa-
rent. This, on being collected in the usual mode, soon con-
denses, and assumes the appearance of plumbago. It forms
acids with hydiogen, chlorine and tin, calliW the hydrionicj

lUCl.

437

chlorionic, and stannionic acids ; and it combines readily
■with metals. The late Mr Teniic.nt could detect no iodine
in sea-water; so that it appears to he entirely a product of
marine plants. French kelp, it is remarked by Sir Hum-
phry Davy, yields more iodine than British ; but for this,
no reason is assigned. Iodine has a peculiar odour, and is
decidedly poisonous. The name is derived from (»<5"i;?, vio-
laceous, in allusion to the very striking; circumstance of the
substance yielding a violet coloured gas on being exposed
to an increase of temperature. The following is the mode
of procuring iodine recommended by Ur Wollaston : " Dis-
solve the soluble part of kelp in water; concentrate the li-
quid by evaporation, and separate all the crystals that can
be obtained ; pour the remaining liquid into a clean vessel,
and mix with it an excess of sulphuric acid; boil this li-
quid for some time; sulphur is precipitated, and muriatic
acid driven off"; decant off" the clear liquid, and strain it
through wool ; put it into a small flask, and mix it with as
much black oxide of manganese as you used before of sul-
phuric acid ; apply to the top of the flask a glass tube shut
at one end ; then upon heating the mixture in the flask, the
iodine will sublime into the glass tube."*

The species reckoned kelp fuci shall now be more par-
ticularly described ; and as most of them, besides yielding
kelp, serve other useful purposes, these shall at the same
time be noticed.

Fucus vesiculosus : "The frond is coriaceous, flat, mid-
ribbed, linear, dichotomous, and quite entire ; the vesicles
are spherical, and innate in the membrane of the frond ; the
receptacles (containing tubercles and seeds) solitary, ter-
minal, compressed, turgid, mostly elliptical."— In Scotland
this is sometimes called Black rang- ; sometimes Kt-l/i roare t
and when the receptacles are large and swollen, Stranvber-
ry nvare. The Norwegians call it Kuc cang, because their
cows feed on it. It is the Quercus marina or Sea oak of
the older writers. F. inflatus of Linn-aeus and Lightfoot,
and F. spiralis of English Botany, are to be considered as
varieties only of this species. The colour is a pale olive
green, which becomes dull and almost black as the plant
dries. It grows most plentifully on all our rocky shores,
often not much below flood-mark. It is readily distinguish-
ed from F. nodosus by the air vesicles very generally oc-
curring in parallel pairs, while in F. nodosus they are sin-
gle ; and from F. serratus, by the edges of the frond being
entire, or wanting the serratures which mark that species.
It is generally from one to three feet long. It is the spe-
cies most highly prized for the manufacture of kelp ; being
rich in alkaline salts. According to one account, 5 oz. of
the ashes of the plant yielded about 2i oz. of alkali ; and
Dr Walker states that I lb. avoirdupois gave him 3 oz. of
kelp. In the north and v;est of Scotland many hundred
tons of this species are for this purpose yearly cut from
the rocks, with old reaping hooks. To the Scottish islan-
ders it is likewise valuable in another way; it constitutes a
considerable part of the winter food of their horses, cattle,
and sheep, which seem instinctively to migrate from the
hills to the sea-shore at the ebbing of the tide. Lightfoot
mentions that during severe snow-storms, stags have been
known to descend from the Scottish mountains to the shores,
and to feed chiefly on this species. The same author states,
that in some of the islands, the inhabitants cover their
cheeses with its ashes, and thus supply the place of salt.
Linnseus says, that the people in Gothland often boil the
plant, and mixing it with some coarse flour, feed their pigs
with it, and that it has hence received the name of Snvine-
tang. In the Channel islands it aflords lirini;. In Jersey,
in particular, it is collected and dried in July, and then

• Thomson's Annuls of Philosophy for April 1814.

housed for winter fuel. It is there also employed in smoke-
drying pork, beef and fish.f

F. nodosus : " The frond is coriaceous, comj)ressed, vein-
less, sub-dichotomous, branched in a pinnated manner; the
receptacles are distichous, pedunculated, roundish, mostly
solitary." — This is very common on the rocky shores of this
country, growing about halfway between flood-mark and
the ebb ; often on the intermediate space between F. vesi-
culosus and serratus, though it sometimes grows nearest
to high-water mark. The fronds are from two to six feet
in length, and at short distances swell into large oblong ve-
sicles or air-bladders; by which, though not mentioned in
the specific character, the plant is more familiarly distin-
guished, and from which it has derived its title nodosua.
I5oys amuse themselves by cutting them transversely near
the end, and making whistles of them : hence the name »fa-
whistles sometimes bestowed on the plant. The seeds are
contained in elliptico-spherical receptacles, which proceed,
on short flat peduncles, from the sides of the branches.
These receptacles acquire a yellow colour, and give occa-
sion to the name ot yeltoio tang, by which this species is
known in Orkney. Like the last species, it is much used
by the kelp-makers, and it often gets the name of kelfi
ivrack. Zoophytes are seldom found attached to this fucus ;
but dense tufts of the dark-coloured Conferva polymorpha
are frequently to be observed on it, and indeed this species
of Conferva is scarcely ever to be detected in any other ha-
bitat.

F. serratus : " The frond coriaceous, flat, mid-ribbed,
linear, dichotomous, serrated at the margins; receptacles
solitary, terminal, flat, linear, serrated, sharpish." It is
sometimes call black ivrack, or prickly tang, sometimes
simply nuare. It is distinguished at first sight by the edges
being serrated, and by the absence of air-vesicles. It is
only uncovered at ebb tide, growing, as already remarked,
in deeper water than F. vesiculosus, or nodosus. In its
mode of growth, it formsapulvillum or circular tuft, spread-
ing out on every side from a central point of attachment.
When fresh, the frond is of a dark olive green colour ; when
cast ashore and dried on the beach, it is almost black. It
is very frequently overrun by the small coralline, called
Sertularia pumila, or sea-tamarisk. Serpula spirorbis, and
spirillum, are also frequent on it. The black wrack is
preferred for covering lobsters, or other shell-fish, that are
to be kept alive during land carriage, being less apt to run
into fermentation than some others which abound with
mucus. According to Gmelin, 6 ounces only of lixivial
salt are procured from 16 ounces of the ashes; and Turner
mentions, that he was told that it is but little used for
making kelp in the Western Islands, " because it shrinks
so much in drying, and contains so little marine salt,"
meaning soda. In Norway, it is called bred tang ; and
Gunner states, that in some parts of that country, the in-
habitants sprinkle it over with meal, and give it to their
cattle.

F. loreus: " The substance of the frond is between car-
tilaginous and coriaceous, compressed, linear, nerveless,
entire at the margins, dichotomous, expanded at its base
into a bell-shaped cup; tubercles immersed in every part,
and on both sides of the frond." This species is well known
by the nam.e oi sea-thongs. In Orkney it is called drew —
a name which would seem to be etymologically related to
the badreux of the Straits of Magellan. It is pretty com-
mon in the north of Scotland and its islands, particularly
on shelving sandstone rocks. When in a young state, be-
fore the thongs have grown, it forms a concave disc or cup,
and gives to the rocks the appearance of being covered

t Commwiications to the Board nf.isrictdture,vo\. 1. p. 219.

488

FUCI.

with some sort of mushroom, or rather peziza, as men-
tioned in the specific character. Fiom this circumstance,
it is desciibed by some old wriif rs as Furus fungis affi-
nia i and it is perhaps the Fungus fi/ianganoidi-s ol' others.
The extended strap-shaped fronds, t;eucially two in num-
ber, arise from the centre of the cup. They are dichoto-
mous, or divide into two at intervals They are generally
three, often six, or even ten feet in length. Uorlase, indeed,
in his History of Curriwntl, mentions, that on that coast
they are sometimes found twenty feet long. The colour is
olive green, with a tinge of brown. The plant is pulpy
and succulent, and a good deal of excellent kelp is made
from it in Orkney; for instance in the island of Westray,
on an estate belonging to Dr Traill of Liverpool It is a
perennial species, or at least the plants require two years
to come to perfection. Wahlenberg therefore is in a mis-
take when he says that it is an annual , but it must be con-
sidered, that he describes from observations made on the
most stormy shores of Norway, where, as he tells us, not a
vestige of it survives the winter, where the discs appear
only in May, and where the plant never attains a greater
length than eight or twelve inches. The same author
gives it as his opinion, that the cup-shaped disc is the only
part analogous to a frond, the t/iungn being merely semi-
niferous spikes. To this notion he has been led, partly by
the imperfect growth of the specimens he was acquainted
with, and perhaps partly by the inaccurate description of
the fructification given by Dr Roth. This was first cor-
rectly described and delineated by Mr Turner, [Hisl. Fuc.
t. 196.) Elliptical tubercles are every where immersed
through the strap- shaped fronds, containing masses of mi-
nute dark blown seeds.

F. filum: " The frond cartilaginous, slimy, cylindrical,
filiform, attenuated at both ends, jointed internally, spirally
twisted when old." This species is frequently called sea-
lace. In Orkney, it gets the name of ca^i'ii;, and in Shet-
land lucky minny's lines. The length to which it grows is
amazing, not less than from twenty to forty feet. Light-
foot mentions, that the stalks, skinned when half dry and
twisted, acquire such strength and toughness, as to be used
for fishing line, Vike Indian grass, (which last, although it
has got this vegetable name, is an animal substance, attach-
ed to the ovaries of some of the small foreign sharks.) The
plant consists of a simple fiond, without branches. It is of
a deep olive colour. In the interior, the stem is divided
by horizontal partitions, which Lamouroux says form a
spiral when the plant becomes bent or twisted. The Bi-
shop of Carlisle, and Mr Woodward, had previously re-
marked (in Lin. Trans, vol. iii.) that the whole frond is
composed of two equal longitudinal threads, coiled spirally
round each other ; this structure becoming evident when
the plant has received an injury. It floats about in the man-
ner of Sparganium natans, following the course of the waves;
but, as remarked by Lionseus, it lies immediately under the
surface of the water, not on it. In Scalpa Bay, near Kirk-
wall in Orkney, we have sailed through meadows of it in a
pinnace, not witiiout some difficulty, where the water was
between three and four fathoms deep, and wlicre of course
the waving weeds must at least have been from twenty to
thirty feet long. Tliis, too, was the growth of one season ;
for the storms of winter completely sweep it from the bay
every season. The plant, however, may not, strictly
speaking, be an annual ; and Lamouroux observes, that its
duration depends very much on the nature of the place
where it grows. In Orkney, a considerable quantity of
kelp is occasionally made from this species ; and the kelp-
makers remark, that " it falls small in burning, and wash-

es like soap."* It is common in all the friths of Norway,

as far as the North Cape; and Bishop (iunner adds, tliat
it furnishes a grateful and nutritious food to the Norwegian
cattle. The fructification of this species has long been a
problem to the naturalist. Roth considered it as placed in
a glandular capsule, at the extremity of the plant. i>tack-
house thought he found it hid in the substance of the plant
in the form of naked grains. Lamouroux is of opinion,
that it is to be sought in certain tubercular excrescences,
sometimes to be observed near the base or root of the plant.
Turner has lately ascertained, that the seeds, or perliaps
capsules containing seeds, are situated in the substance of
the frond ; that they are of a pyrilorm shape, and crowded
together ; and that they escape as the epidermis melts
away.

F. digitatus : " The root fibrous ; stipes or stem woody,
cylindrical, expanded at its apex into a single cartilaginous,
flat, nerveless, roundish leaf, quite entire at its margins,
deeply cleft into numerous ensiform, mostly simple seg-
ments."— This species has in England received tlie appella-
tion of sea girdles and hangers, and in Scotland it is very
generally known by the name of tangle: lu Orkney it is
called red-ware. It is the Skalmetare ot the Norwegians,
and the slac-m/iara or seawand of the Scots Highlanders.
It is one of the largest native species, having a stem often
three feet in length, and a large divided frond; and was
denominated fihycodendron or Fucua arboreua by some of
the older writers. It is very abundant on all our rocky
shores, growing chiefly on rocks which are only partially
uncovered at the lowest ebbs, so that in neap tides the
fronds are scarcely perceptible. The root consists of a
congeries of thick horny fibres, often covered with Balanus
striatus, and the interstices inhabited by asterias sphaeru-
lata and other vermes. In deep water exposed to a mode-
rate current, but protected from the heavy action of the
waves, it attains a great size, the stalk becoming as thick
as one's wiist, from three to four feet long, and the fronds
of corresponding length, perhaps from ten to twelve feet.
Both Turner and Wahlenberg seem to doubt whether
F. saccliariiius (next described) and this, be specifically
distinct. Wahlenberg observes, that, near the shore, the
winds and waves prevent a large growth, or the copious
production of mucilage, and that in this way the appear-
ance of F. digitatus is so much changed, that a new name
(saccharinus) is applied to it. We must be excused for
remarking, however, that we have seen specimens of Fu-
cus sacchaiinus cast ashore from the Frith of Forth, which
measured fifteen feet in length ; and for adding, that the
Fucus digitatus which grows at the Black Rocks near
Leith, exposed to winds and waves, is uniformly possessed
of the distinctive characters of F. digitatus as described
by Turner. In Scotland, the very young stalks and leaves
are eaten along with dulse, or F palmatus. Old Gerrard
indites, that being boiled tender, and eaten with butter,
pepper and vinegar, it makes good food. But at present
it is employed only in the raw state. On the shores of some
of the Orkney islands, particularly Westray, it is cut by-
means of long knives or scythes, managed by men in boats
at low water ; it is tied in large bundles, and being floated
ashore, is burned into kelp in reverberatory furnaces. Cap-
tain Richan of Rapness has considerable merit in forming
a very pure kelp by these means. It may be stated, that
Dr Traill of Liverpool, from a series of experiments made
by him while resident in the northern islands, found that
its fronds yielded more kelp than equal portions of F. vesi-
culosus, or any of the other species generally used in the
manufacture.

Tour in Orkney and Shetland, 1806, p. 29.

FUCI.

48 9

In Scotland the stems are sometimes put to ratlier an
unexpected use, — the making of knivc-liandlc;. A pretty
Jhick stem is selected, and cut into pieces about four inches
long. Into thesej while fresh, are stuck blades of knives,
such as gardeners use for pruning and grafting. As the
stem dries it contracts and hardens, closely and firmly cm-
bracing the hilt of the blade. In the course of some months
the handles become quite firm, and very hard and shrivell-
ed, so that, when tipt with metal, tliey are hardly to be dis-
tinguished from hartshorn. In the north of Scotland, and
especially in the Orkney and Shetland islands, the large
stalks are dried and used as fuel. This is likewise done
in Norway, and on some of the shores of France, where fuel
is nearly equally scarce, but much less needed. The stems
are generally invested with many parasitic fuci and confer-
va, and not unfrequently with the shell-fish called anomia
ephippium and scala.

A curious fact may be mentioned relative to this species.
DrYule of Edinburgh being engaged in some experiments,
in order to ascertain the state in which the saline matter
exists naturally in the fuci; had some thick stems of l".
digitatus hung up in his cellar. From different parts of
one of these, young shoots of frondlets germinated, — of
great delicacy and beauty, being nearly transparent. Do
the fuci, then, produce buds from their stems, like most
land plants ; or did these germs originate from seeds ac-
cidentally attaclied to the stein, when in its native element ?
Qn being brought into a warm room, the young shoots
speedily decayed.

F. butbosus: " The root hollow, swollen into a bulb, rough
all over; stipes coriaceous, flat, twisted once at its origin,
its margins undulated in the lower part ; its apex expanded
into a single, cartilaginous, flat, nerveless leaf, entire at its
margins, deeply cleft into numerous ensiform, mostly sim-
ple segments. The fructification consists in oblong seeds
immersed in the margins of the stipes." — This is the Fu-
cus polischides of the Flora Scolica, sometimes called sea
furbelows. In size it far exceeds any other sea-weed found
on our shores, and is certainly not undeserving the titles of
giganteus and arboreus, sometimes bestowed on it by the
earlier botanists. It is very curious that, notwithstanding
its size, Linni«us seems to have been unacquainted with it.
It sometimes occuis twelve feet long ; and it is of such a
specimen in its wet state, that Lightfoot speaks, when he
says, that a single plant is a sufficient load lor a man's
shoulders. It is plentiful in tlie Pcntland Frith, and num-
bers of large specimens are fre()uently cast ashore in the
bay of Thurso, as well as on the Orkneys. It is likewise
pretty common among tlie Western Islands. It is found
more sparingly on the east coast of Scotland. On the shores
of the south of England, of France, and in the Mediterra-
nean, it is very abundant. It is always found in deep water,
occupying very conniionly, in the southern seas of Europe,
those kinds of habitat which F. digitatus generally fills in
the north. It very often forms a constituent of tlie drift-
ware collected on the Scottish shores after storms, and
either burnt into kelp, or laid on corn lands as a manure.

In treating of the kelp fuci, it has already been men-
tioned, that most of them yield a substitute for winter pro-
vender to cattle oil the bleak shores of noithein countiies.
Some others, wliich are frequently emyloyed as arti<-les of
human sustenance, anti which have sometimes saved the
inhabitants of those couturies from the honors of famine,
are now to be enumerated ; with the addition of two or three
which are occasionally employed as ingredients in salads
and condiments.

1''. saccharlnus: " The root fibrous; llbvcs lotig anil
branching; stipes almost woody, cylindrical, undivided, ex-
panding at its apex into a single cartilaginous fiat simple
linear oblong nerveless leaf, enliic at its margins : the
fructification consists in scattered seeds inimei'sed in the
leaf."— -This species is often called sea-belt. It is very
common, and one of the largest of our fuci. Tlie colour
is a deep olive brown, sometimes partly green. Waldeti-
berg mentions that he ascertained by experiment that the
plant contains no mucilage. An extraordinary circumstance
in the history of this plant (already alluded to) was firfc't
correctly observed by Mr Uingham of Uxbridge. A con-
traction is observed to take place in the frond every year:
this is occasioned by a new or secondary frond proceeding
from the stem, and pushing the old or primary frond be-
fore it. Mr Turner was the first who correctly described
the fructification. It is observable in the centre of the
leaf, in the form of irregular spots, the frond being at these
places much thickened, and the surface found, on applying
a microscope, to be covered with innumerable extremely
minute oblong brown seeds. Lightfoot mentions, that
the common people on the coast of England sometimes
boil this species as a pot-herb. The Icelanders, we are
told by Anderson, boil it in milk to the consistence of pot-
tage, and eat it with a spoon. They are also said to soak
it in fresh water, dry it in the sun, and then lay it up in
wooden vessels ; it soon becomes covered with a white
efflorescence of salt, which has a sweetish taste, and in this
state they eat it with butter. Lastly, it is mentioned thai
they feed their cattle with the plant, both in its recent and
dry state. There is, however, every reason to think that
all this is more properly applicable to F\icus palmatus or
dulse, than to the true F. saccharinus ; for Mr Hooker in-
forms us that the alga saccliarifera Islandica is the Fucus
palmatus. We are positively certain that the Fucus sac-
charinus of the Frith of Forth, prepared according to the
usual methods of cookery, makes a wretched pot-herb, and
that, in its unprepared state, it is of so harsh a nature that
cattle cannot relish it. The Norwegians, v/e may add, on
the authority of Wahlenberg, prize it so little, that their
name for it. Toll-tare., implies that it is fit only for the devil.
Very different, however, is the estimate of its merits in some
parts of the East Indies. It is there so extensively used as
human food, that it is well entitled to be placed at the head
of the list of edible fuci. Thunberg, in his Flora Jalionica,
states that it is much used in Japan, and is there prepared
in such a way as to be quite esculent. Barrow, in his
Voyage to Coehinclma, confirms this statement, and men-
lions, that, when valuable presents are made by the Japan-
ese, they are laid on pieces of this fucus, in testimony, as
he thinks, of their regard for it as the general emblem of
tliose sources of subsistence which the sea affords. He is
further of opinion, that the famous chinchou jelly of China
is in part mide from this species. If further proof be want-
ed, it is furnished by Broughton, who informs us,t that in
Volcano Bay, in the island of Matsmai, he saw a junk la-
den with sea-weed, which he affirms, without hesitation,
to have been Fucus saccharinus. He says that it grows
plentifully on the shores of Volcano Bay, and that the peo-
ple were constantly engaged in cutting it, drying it in (he
sun, and making it up into bundles for exportation He
repe-i.ts, in three different places of his work, that irte plant
alluded to is Fucus saccharinus ; and although ncitlier Bar-
row nor Brougliton so'_-m to have any pretensions as bota-
nists, they are supported in this instance by Thunljerg, who
ranks nigh as a botanical authoiity. It may therefore se^m

Voyage to the North P.iclfio Ocean, 1795, &c. by W. R. Broughton, p. 273.

Vol. IX. Part II.

490

FUCl.

extravac;aiit to surmise the possibility ol' all these writers
being in a mistake conccrninij the identity of the species;
yet to those best acquainted with this tribe of plants, it
would be no great surprise hereafter to learn, that the Fu-
cus sacchariinis of the East is in reality a non-dcscript spe-
cies, resembling tiie British plant. In the mean lime, how-
ever, we must receive them as the same, and conclude,
that the Fucus saccharinus of our shores is neglected and
despised, merely because we are ignorant of the mode of
preparing it; and that, from the want of this knowledge, a
plant, capable of affording a useful article of food, or even
a nutritious delicacy, is of no use to us, but to swell the
heap of drift-ware for the kelp furnace or the dunghill. For
the former purpose, indeed, it is not much esteemed, as
it is found to become bleached and saltless from even slight
exposure to rain.

F. csculentus : " The frond membranaceous, flat, mid-
ribbed, simple, ensiform, entire at its mai-gins, supported
upon a short, cylindrical, pinnated stipes ; pinnae ileshy,
distichous, oblong, fiat, nerveless, containing numerous,
pyriform, immersed seeds." — This is called Baddcrlocks
or Hen-ware on the east coast of Scotland ; and in the Ork-
ney islands, Honey-tvare. In Norway it is, by way of emi-
nence, styled tare or ware. It grows on rocks in pretty
deep water, commonly in places where the tips of the fronds
can reach the surface at ebb-tide. The stalk is generally
from six inches to a foot in length ; and near its base oc-
curs a wliorl of pinna;. The frond varies from si.K to twenty
feet in length, with a mid- rib extending the whole way.
The mid-rib, stripped of its membrane, is the part chiefly
eaten; but in some places, particularly in Orkni y, the pin-
nx are also eaten, under the name of mirklvs. Mr Turner
mentions that these are likewise called keys, and are only
brought to market when thick and fleshy, which is gene-
rally in August and September. In Norway the pinnse
do not in general appear till the second year. Wahlenberg
states, that during the first year the stem is naked, but next
year, while the greater part of the frond is destroyed, the
stem swells in the middle ; from which swelling the pin-
nae proceed. At the Carr Rock in the Frith of Forth, the
pinna: were visible not only the first year, but in plants
only a very few months old ; and the rudiments of them
■were discernible in some which were only three or four
inches long, and apparently but a few weeks sprung.

F. palmatus : " Tiie frond is membranaceous, flat, nerve-
less, palmaled, quite entire at the margin; segments ob-
long, mostly simple ; seeds naked, collected into wide, ir-
regularly shaped spots, scattered all over the frond." — This
is the well-known dulse of the lowland Scots, and the duil-^
liosg- of the Highlanders. In Ireland it is called dillesk ;
and it is there first washed in fresh water, and then dried
in the sun, before being used. In this state it is often made
up into rolls, and chewed like tobacco. The Icelanders
call it sol. The Norwegians name it sou-soell or sheep's-
■weed, and Bishop Gunner has therefore adopted the name
Tucu&ovinris, observing that sheep and goats betake them-
selves in great numbers eagci-ly to the shore at ebb-tide to
obtain this pleasant food. "Buy dulse and tangle," is one
of the Edinburgh crie^, tangle meaning the tender stalks
and very young fronds of Fucus digitalus. Both are eaten
recent from the sea, commonly without any preparation ;
they atf; sometimes considered as forming a salad, but more
generally are used as a whet. Dulse is now very seldom
fried and brought to table. It is said, that the inhabitants
of the Greek islands are fond of this species, adding it to
ragouts and olios, to which it communicates a red colour,
and at the same time imparts some of its rich and gelati-
nous qualities. The Dried leaves infused in water exhale
an odour somewhat resembling that of sweet violets, and

they communicate thai flavour to vegetables with which
they are mixed. Lightfoot mentions, that in the Isle of
Skyc, in Scotland, it is sometimes used in fevers, to pro-
mote ijerspiration, being boiled in water with the addition
of a little butter. Fucus palmatus grows not uncommonly
on rocks whicii arc barely uncovered at the ebb of the tide ;
but it is more frequent as a parasite on Fucus nodosus ;
and it occurs also on the stems of Fucus digitatus, attain-
ing in this situation a considerable size, perhaps twelve or
fifteen inches long, while in general it is only about six or
eight inches. It is soft and limber, and does not become
rigid by drying, being of a more loose texture than many
other sea- weeds.

I", edulis. " The frond fleshy, flat, nerveless, simple,
cuneiform, quite entire, rounded at the apex, attenuacec!
at tlie base into a very short cylindrical pctiolus ; solitary
seeds scattered all over the frond." — This is not uncom-
mon in Scotland, and being thick and succulent when young,
is frequently preferred to F. pairaatus, especially for roast-
ing in the frying-pan. Like that species, it gives' out a
smell somewhat resembling that of sweet violets. When
fresh, it is of a deep opake blood-red colour; on macera-
tion, it gives out a purple dye. Old fronds of a large size,
perhaps two feet in circumference, are somelinrits cast
ashore near Leith ; these are of a dark colour, and very full
of holes. These holes are supposed by tlie fishermen to
be made by crabs, which, they assert, are very fond of this
species.

F. clliatus. — " The frond between membranaceous and
cartilaginous, flat, nerveless, generally lanceolate, branch-
ed in a pinnated manner, ciliated at its margins and sur-
face ; cilia mostly simple, patent, subulate producing tu-
bercles at their apices." — This is not very CTjmmon on our
shores: it is sometimes, however, mixed with 1'. palma-
tus, and sold and eaten as dulse along with that species. It
is distinguished not only by its cilia or fringes, but its fine
red colour, and almost pellucid substance. It was former-
ly known by the names of F. lanceolatus, and holosctaceus.

1'. jiinnatifidiis. " The frond compressed, cartilaginous,
branched, branches mostly alternate, doubly pinnalifid;
ramuli blunt, callous ; capsules ovate, sessile, and naked
seeds on the ramuli." — In Scotland, this is sometimes call-
ed Peji/ier-dulse, from its hot biting taste in the mouth. On
account of this quality, althou'gh its smell is not very pre-
possessing, it is sometimes eaten along with the common
dulse. In Iceland, it is believed, it is still used in place
of a spice. It appears to be an annual, and its pungency
is considered as greatest in the early part of the summer.
It is very coinmon on all our shelving rocky sliorcs, grow-
ing along with F. palmatus and crispus, and Corallina offi-
cinalis. It is subject to considerable variations, particu-
larly in colour; being frequently olive yellow, but some-
times tinged with red, or dark red, approaching to purple.
It is somewhat curious that this species, which is common
to Scotland and Iceland, should be found also in the Red
Sea, and on the shores of Egypt.

In treating of the oceanic fields of sea-weed, some of
the uses of Fucus nataiis (including I", natans, bacciferus,
and several others of Turner) have already been hinted at.
The most succulent fronds are selected, and prepared as
a pickle, like samphire, and the young and tender shoots
are eaten as a salad, seasoned with juice of lemons, pep-
per, and ginger. This sort of sea-weed is also in some
repute as a medicine, being accounted aperient and anti-
scorbutic, and employed by the native Americans to cure
fevers.

Many of the Asiatic nations bordering on the sea, use
different species as food. The superior orders employ them
chiefly to give consistence to sauces, or tt) moderate the

FUCI.

491

pungency of tlie hot spices which tiicy use in such profu-
sion.

In the East Indifs, and parliciihuly in Ceylon, F. lichc-
naidcR [Turn.K. 118.) is in higli estimation for tlic talilc.
'I'lic following is its character : " Frond subgelatinous, cy-
lindrical, filiform, much and irregularly branched; branches
patent, nearly of equal height, acuminated, generally forked
at their apices, with short divaricated segments; tubercles
hemispherical, sessile, scattered all over the frond." From
the circumstance of its being used as an article of food,
Gmelin, in his History of Fuci, gave it the title of F. cdulis,
a name now appropriated to a very difterent one, allied to
the palmatus, and above described. F. liclienoides is com-
pletely of a gelatinous nature : it is washed in fresh water,
and squeezed, so as to remove a considerable part of its
mucilage and saltness ; afier which it is served up with a
sauce prepared with lemon-juice and ginger. This is sup-
posed to be one of the principal ingredients employed by
the East Indian swallows in constructing those edible nests
which are so much in repute, not only in China, but through-
out India, and in request even at the luxurious tables of
London. The most pure and transparent nests are now
generally believed to be almost entirely composed of the
gelatinous fuci. ,

F. tenax is employed in the Chlhesc empire to serve all
the purposes of our gum Arabic and glue. It is a small cy-
lindrical filiform species, allied to F. acicularis. It was
first described by Turner in yinnaU of Botany, vol. ii. and
is figured in the History of Fuci, x. 125. It is gathered on
the shores of the provinces of Fo-kien and Tche-kiang ; and
although of small sise, it is found so plentifully, that ahout
27,000lbs. are annually imported at Canton, and sold at 6d.
or 8(/. per lb. As soon as gathered, it is dried in the sun ;
and being then compressed, it will keep good for several
years. When it is to be used, the saline particles and im-
purities are washed off; it is then steeped in warm water,
in which it dissolves, stifi'ening as it cools into a vegetable
gluten, which again liquifies on exposure to heat. It seems
probable that this is the principal ingredient in the cele-
brated gummy matter called chin-chou, or hai-tsai, in China
and Japan. Large sheets of paper or of coarse gauze are
besmeared with it ; they thus acquire additional transpai-en-
cy, and are used in windov.'s or lanterns. Windows made
merely of slips of bamboo crossed diagonally, have fre-
quently their lozenge-shaped interstices wholly filled with
the transparent gluten of the hai-tsai.

It is remarked by Mr Turner, {Hist. Fiic. t. 216 — CIS),
that the common and well-known though very variable spe-
cies, F. cris/ius and mamillosus of our own shores, are rea-
dily melted by boiling, and that they afterwards form a ge-
latine. This has not yet, however, been applied to any
use, either by the cook or the artist. Unfortunately they
are not only of small size, but could not easily be gathered
in sufficient quantity.

It may be mentioned, on the authority of JNIr Barlow,
that at the Cape a kind of gelatinous fucus, very useful as
food, is gathered, particularly from the shores of Roben
Isla.nd. The leaves are described as sword-shaped, serra-
ted, and abou-: six inches long. These being first washed
clean, and sufficiently dried to resist putrefaction, are steep-
ed in fresh water for about a week, changing it every day.
After this, being boiled for a few hours in a little water, they
forma clear transparent jelly ; whicli being mixed with su-
gar, and tiic juicp of a lemon or orange, affords a pleasant
and refreshing dish.

According to Dr Olaus Swarlz, F. s/iinosus, (muricatus
of Gmelin) is eaten by the inhabitants of Sumatra. This
species occurs at the Cape, but is there neglected.

Some of the gigantic species, particularly Y. potatorum

of Labillardiere, furnisli various instruments and household
vessels, as well as food, to the native inhabitants of New
Holland.

A few of the smaller and more delicate kinds seem capable
of allbrding colouiing matter or paint. Ginanni describes
one under the name of Fuco tinlorio. This .Mr Turner
considers as probably F. purpureus, which is very common
in the Medittnanean, and gives out a beautiful chocolate
dye in fresh water.

It may be mentioned, that in the North of Scotland, a kind
of sauce for fish or fowl, somewhat resembling ketchup,
is made from sea-weeds; frequently from the cup-like frond
or base of F. loreus.

The mucus from the vesicles of F. vesiculosus, and similar
species, has been recommended in diseases of the glands,
by Dr Russell; and F. Iielminthocortos, {Turn. t. 233) a
small Mediterranean species, though little known in Bri-
tain, has long been employed by medical men on the con-
tinent as a vermifuge, under the name of Moss or Coralline
of Corsica.

Some of the small red species are vci-y ornamental when
displayed in pictures ; and are used not only to embellish
the cabinet of the naturalist, but apartments in general.
The foreign species chiefly employed for this purpose, is
F. cartilagineus, which abounds at the Cape, and is remark-
able for the regularity and elegance of its form, and the
richness of its tints.

The native species most generally used for forming mi-
mic trees or landscapes, is F. coccineus. Tne frond is com-
pressed, in substance between membranaceous and carti-
laginous, much and irregularly branched ; the ramuli subu-
late, disposed in alternate parcels of three or four each.
As formerly observed, two kinds of fructification are to be
found on difl'erent individuals of this species ; both spherical
sessile capsules, and lanceolate siliqua:. It is beautifully
figured by Turner, (Hist. Fuc. t. 59) and also by Stack-
house, in a frontispiece to one of the fasciculi of his A'ereis
Britanyiica, (p. 106.) It is singular that this species, though
very common, escaped the notice of Linnxus. When it is
dexterously expanded on very smooth white paper, or on
the glossy interior of large Hat shells, the effect is very
beautiful. It is generally of a bright red colour, but some-
times tinged white or yellow. It grows about three of
four inches long. In minuteness of ramification, it is ex-
celled only by F. as/iaragoide.':, (Turn. t.lOl.) a species of
much less frequent occurrence.

F. /i/u7)iosus is likewise very ornamental. The frond is
compressed, cartilaginous, much and irregularly branched;
the branches are repeatedly pinnated, pioducing the fea-
ther-like appearance, from which the name has been given.
It is of a purple colour, often inclining to yellowish brown.
It is generally from three to five inches long; but in the
north of Scotland it reaches six or seven inches. Still
farther to the north of Europe, as on the northern coast of
Norway, it grows to yet a larger size; so that it may truly
be reckoned a northern plant. It is generally found attach-
ed to old stems of fucus digitatus.

F. alatus is the most abundant of all the small ornamental
sea-weeds, being very common on stalks of F. digitatus.
The frond is membranaceous, very tender, mid-ribbed, linear,
sulidich'otonious; the segments alternately pinnated. It is
three or four inches high, and of a fine purplish red colour.

Preservinff of Sea-weeds.

Many of the fuci, and particularly the Floridse of La-

mouroux, make a beautiful appearance when preserved in

a herbarium or hortuj siccus. All of them require to be

soaked for some time in fresh water, and they are the better

3 Q 2

492

FUCI.

fov being repeatedly rinsed in renewfed basins of water, to
cleanse away and extract as much as possible the sea-salt
which adheres to them, or with wliich they are impregnated.
The larger sort need no other preparation ; but arc to be
dried between folds of blotting paper, and pressed in the
manner of herbaceous plants. The finer leaved fuci must
be treated in a diffeient way. After being washed, as above
directed, in repeated waters, till no impurities of any kind
remain, they are to be separately floated out in a large shallow
dish containing water, so that their most minute and deli-
cate branches may be fully expanded. For disentangling
the nice ramifications, a common pin, or a sharp-pointed pen,
may be employed. A piece of stiff, but fine and smooth
writing paper, is then to be gently introduced under the
specimen, and the minute branchlets being again spread
out where they may have been disordered, the paper is to
be cautiously and slowly inclined, and at last drawn out, so
as to contain on its surface the plant in its fully expanded
state. After this, most of the delicate species, if carefully
dried and pressed, adhere to the paper by their own gluten,
and require no farther care. Mr Turner mentions that he
fixes the non-adhesive kinds by means of a cement made
from F. ciliatus and crispus of our shores. These are
boiled in water over a quick fire, and soon become melted :
on cooling, they form a gluten, not to be relied on as a
strong cement, but which is well adapted for a herbarium,
as it neither imparts a stain like glue, nor a glare like gum.
If the paper be slightly rubbed over with the mucilage,
and a delicate membranaceous plant afterwards placed on
it, it will become sufficiently fixed merely by moderate
pressure. Some collectors, finding that any kind of paper
is apt to curl up, expand the delicate species over a plate
of glass, and, after allowing the water to drip off, transfer
the specimen carefully to the paper.

To inland collectors, who occasionally make an excur-
sion to the shore, it may be useful to know, that all
the preparation that is necessary at the sea side is to dry
the specimens moderately in the free air, and tie them
loosely up in strong brown paper. In this way they may
be carried to a great distance, and kept for some days.
On being immersed in fresh water, they in general expand
as fully as before; but it must be confessed that the colour
of some kinds is extremely apt to cliange. In Xhevasculum,
or botanic box, which serves so v>'ell for preserving herba-
ceous land plants, specimens of marine plants very rapidly
undergo the putrefactive fermentation, (p. n.)

FUEGO, or Tierka del Fuego, " the land of fire,"
was so denominated by Magellan, because he perceived
many fires during the night, supposed to have been volca-
noes in the mountains, but probably nothing more than the
numerous fires kindled by the natives on account of the
cold. It is a large island, or rather group of islands, bound-
ed on the north by the straits of Magellan, and on all other
tides by the sea; situated between 52 i° and 56° South
Latitude, and between 65° 10' and 75° 30' West Longitude
irom Greewich. It is divided by narrow straits into eleven
or more islands of considerable size, and extends about 300
miles from east to west, and from 100 to 2C0 in breacllh.
From Charlotte promontory, which is the north-east ex-
tremity, the coast extends west north-west, to a large pro-
montory, that forms the mouth of the first narrow passage
ill the strait ; and then, in a south south-west direction, form-
ing a circular basin, which terminates at the promontory of
Sweep-stakes, on the south side of llie second narrow
channel. The inhabitants on this part of the coast behaved
with great humanity to the crew of the Spanish ship Con-
ception, which was wrecked on their shores in ir65, assist-
ing them in saving part of their cargo, and in erecting sheds
•iD shelter them from the weather; and discovered so little

of the cruelty common to most savages, that the Spaniards
of South America projected a missionary establishment
among them. The coast next inclines southward, forming
an arch of a groat circle, cut by Cape Monmouth, and the
inlet of St Sebastian, on to Savage bay, from which a moun-
tainous country stretches south-west, exhibiting the appear-
ance of several narrow straits. Ueyond these is Swallow
harbour, a well sheltered bay, where there is good landing
and a suflicient supply of wood and water; but the sur-
rounding mountains have a dreary aspect, and seem to be
deserted by every thing that has life. The coast conti-
nues now in a north-west direction, forming many bays and
inflexions, inclosed by barren rocks without any appearance
of soil, having their summits covered with snow, and their
deep vallies filled with immense masses of ice. To this
part of the country Sir John Narborougli gave the name
of " the land of Desolation;" and nothing more dreadfuj,
says Bougainville, can be imagined. It is still high and
steep, and terminates in Cape Pillar, the north-west extre-
mity where the Pacific Ocean opens to the view. This
cape is a great mass of rocks, which rise into two huge
cliflTs resembling towers; and round it are several small
islands or rocks, named the Twelve Apostles, reaching
several miles into the sea.^ Two leagues south of Cape
Pillar is Cape Desire, fr9m which the coast takes a South
east direction, and is broken inlo various inlets, or rather
composed of a number of islands, beyond which appear
barren and rocky mountains, spotted with tufts of wood and
patches of snow. From Cape Gloucester, which is about
23 leagues from Cape Desire, the coast turns south-souti)
east for ten leagues, to Black Cape, a steep and high rock,
shaped like a sugar loaf; a little towards the east from which
is the great bay of St Barbara, supposed to communicate
with the Straits of Magellan. Beyond this bay, the coun-
try is entirely composed of rocky mountains, without the
least appearance of vegetation, terminating iu dreadful
precipices, and raising their craggy summits to an immense
height. About 23 leagues from Barbara Bay appears Cape
York Minster, a lofty promontory, terminating in two high
towers, with a conical hill between them. To the east of
this opens Christmas Sound, in the bottom of which is a
deep and secure harbour, named Devil's Basin, so com-
pletely encompassed by lofiy rocks as to be entirely ex-
cluded from the lays of the sun. To the south-east of
Christmas Sound is a group of rocks, called the Isles of
Ildefonso, nearly e;.st from which is Nassau Bay, whose
west point is the most southerly cxirc.nity of Tieira del
Fuego, and is sometimes denominated I'alse Cape Horn.
In front of Nassau I?ay lie the Hermit Islands, the south
point of which is the True Cape Horn, known at a distance
by a round hill over ii, and situated in 55° 5f>' South Lati-
tude, and in 67° 46' West Longitude. 'I'he coast stretching
north-east from Nassau Bay is little known for the space
of 30 leagues to Valentine's Bay, v. hich forms the south
west entrance of the Strait of Le Maire. About the mid-
dle of this strait, on the Tierra del Fuego side, is the Bay
of Good Success; and on the south-east extremity arc two
low promontories, called Cape Diego and Cape Vincent,
where l.ie strait opens to the east. From tlii.se capes to
Charlotte Promontory, the eastern coast of Tierra del Fuego
is more level, woody, and verdant, than any other part.
The soil here in the vallies is rich and deep; and a stream
of a reddish hue, but of good water, runs at the bottom of
almost every hill.

The interior parts of Tierra del Fuego have never been
explored, but appeared to consist of continued mountains
of immense height and irregular surface. About one-
fourth of their ascent is frequently covered with trees of a
considerable size. Towards the middle, nothing but wither-

FUEGO.

493

ed shrubs appear: next succeed patches of snow and frag-
ments of rock ; while the biiminits, composed of huge crags
piled upon eacli othci', and towering above the clouds, arc
devoted to everlasting sterility. Many of llictn arc no-
thing but immeasurable masses of rock, naked from the
base to the sumitiit, without a single shrub or one blade of
grass to be seen upon them ; and the intermediate vallies,
equally destitute of verdure, are filled with beds of snow, or
masses of ice. The climate is intensely cold and stormy;
and, even in the midst of summer, the ground is frequently
covered with snow. Its severity is fatally exemplified by
an accident mentioned in Captain Cook's first voyage, a
part of whose crew having attended Sir Joseph Banks and
Dr Solander on shore, and iiaving been obliged to pass the
night in the open air, though it was upon tiie most tem-
perate part of the coast, and about the season of midsum-
mer, two of them expired of cold; and Dr Solander himself,
a native of Sweden, was saved with great difficulty. Even
in this barren soil and dreary climate is found a great va-
riety of plants unknown in Europe. The trees cliiefly
noticed; were beech, birch, winter-bark or spice laurel, and
the holly-leaved barberry. The plains are covered with a
kind of spongy moss ; and nettles, wild celery, and scurvy-
grass, are generally found close to the beech. Cranberries,
red and white, are produced in great abundance. Fish may
be procured with great facility on every part of the coast,
and particularly on the Straits of Magellan. Whales, seals,
and sea-lions, are seen in great numbers along the shores,
particularly in the Straits of 1-e Maire. There are great
quantities of shell fish, limpets, clams, and especially mus-
sels, some of which are five or six inches in length. Few
insects have been observed in the country, and none that
were either hurtful or troublesome. Of land-birds there
are few varieties; and none have been seen larger than
an English black-bird, except a few hawks and vultures.
But there is plenty of water-fowl, sea-pies, shags, and the
kind of gull generally called Port Egmont hen ; geese,
resembling bustards, smaller than the tame geese of
England, but well tasted ; and ducks of several kinds, the
most remarkable of which, called by the sailors race-horses,
are unable to fiy on account of the shortness of their wings,
but run upon the water with amazing swiftness. Almost
the only quadrupeds observed by navigators were dogs in
a domestic state, which differed from others of their species
bred in America, in possessing the faculty of barking. The
traces of larger animals were indeed noticed in some places :
but their species couid not be ascertained.

The natives of Tierrra del Fuego are the most deplo-
rable in appearance, and tlie most destitute in resources,
of the human race, — inhabiting the most inhospitable cli-
mate in the world, and possessing no sagacity to provide
themselves with those few conveniences, which even their
dreary land might supply. They are a little, ugly, mea-
gre, and beardless race,* with long black hair, and the co-
lour of their skin like the rust of iron mixed with oil.
Their whole apparel consists of the stinking skin of a seal,
sometimes of a guanicoe, tlirown over their shoulders, ex-
actly in the slate in which it was taken from the back of
the animal. A piece of the same skin is sometimes drawn
over their feet, and gathered about the ancles like a purse;
and a small flap is worn by the women as a fig-leaf They
appeared very fond, however, of ornament, and paint their
faces in various forms, generally with horizontal streaks of
black and red, with a white ring round the eyes. They
wear upun their wiists and ancles bracelets of beads form-
ed of small shells or bones, and delight particularly in
every thing that is of a red colour. Their food consists

chiedy of cranberries and shell-fish, and sometimes the
flesh of whales or seals, wnicii t.iey devour with tlic
greatest relish in a raw and rotten state. Some of Cap-
tain Wallis's people gave to one of them a fish as it was
taken alive out of tiie water J the Indian snatched it hastily
as a dog wovdd take a bone ; and, instantly killing it, by
giving it a bite near the gills, proceeded to eat it, begin-
ning with the head, and going on to the tail, without re-
jecting cither the bones, fins, scales, or entrails. They ate
readily whatever food was given to them by European
voyagers, but could not be persuaded to take any other
drink than water. They appear to have no fixed resi-
dence, but to move from one place to another, after having
exhausted the supplies of shell fish around their habita-
tions. Their huts are constructed in the most rude and
inartificial manner imaginable, and arc merely a few poles
set up inclining towards one another, and forming a cone
at the top like a bee-hive. They are covered on the wea-
ther-side with a few boughs and a little grass, yet not so as
to exclude the snow or rain ; and, on the lee, nearly an
eighth part of the circumference is left open, both as a
door and a chimney. Within these wretched hovels no
kind of furniture is seen ; and a little grass laid round the
inside of the stakes, serves the purposes of chairs and
beds. The only utensils observed among them were, a
satchel to hang on the back, a basket to carry in the hand,
and a bladder to hold water. Wherever they halt, though
only for a short time, in the open air, they always kindle a
fire ; and are generally affected with sore eyes, from sitting
so much over the smoke of their fires. Even in their
canoes, they have a fire placed on a heap of sand in the
midst of the vessel, aroimd which they huddle themselves
as close as possible; and which they seem thus to carry
about with them, not only for the sake of immediate
warmth, but in order also to have fire ready kindled
wherever they may land. Their canoes are extremely
slight made, sometimes of planks, but generally of pieces
of bark sewed together, either with the sinews of some
wild beast, or with thongs cut from a hide. A kind of
riish is laid into the seams; and the outside is smeared
with a resin or gum, to prevent the water from soaking
through the bark. About fifteen slender branches, each
bent into an arch, are sewed transversely to the bottom and
sides; and some straight pieces are placed across the top
from one gunwale to the other, and fastened securely at
each end. These vessels are about fifteen feet long, three
broad, and three deep, are steered with paddles, and have
only a seal-skin as a sail. The only appearance of inge-
nuity among them was in their weapons, which consisted
of bows, arrows, and javelins. Some of the bows were
neatly made, with strings of gut ; and the arrows were
formed of wood, very highly polished, with a point of glass
or flint, barbed, and fitted to the shaft with wonderful skill.
In the use of these weapons they discovered great dexte-
rity, and seldom failed to hit a mark at a considerable dis-
tance. They have also a kind ot harpoon, which they use
in fishing, formed of a fish bone about a foot in length,
sharpened at the end, toothed on one side, and fixed to a
long pole. No appearance of subordination or government
has been observed among them, and no one is respected
more than another ; yet they seemed to live together in the
utmost harmony. Neither do they discover any notions of
religion, unless a vehement vociferation, addressed to every
new object, may be considered as a species of exorcism,
and as implying a belief in evil spirits. Both those who
were seen by Bougainville and by Cook, though on diffe-
rent parts of the coast, gave themselves the name of Pe-

* A few of the men on the coast of tlie Straits of Le Maire were larger, and more clumsily made.

494

FUL

clicray; and they do not seem to be a numerous people.
Their langua^;e in general is guttural, and some of their
woi'ds arc expressed by a sound resembling that which is
made by clcarinsi; the thrpat; Ijut other expressions are
sufficiently soft, such as /icil/^ca, beads, and oocld, water.
They are harmless, and friendly towards strangers; and,
cither from a contented disposilion, or from stupidity of
mind, discover no desire for additional possessions and
gratifications. When carried on board of European ships,
they testified no emotions of surprise, satisfaction, or cu-
riosity, resardcd every object, except looking-glasses, and
the clothes of the peupk-, with utter indifference; and ex-
pressed no wish for any thing whatever but beads. One
of iheir women even offered her sucking child to an offi-
cer of Uyron's ship ; and their whole aspect and manners
declared them to be among the lowest and most wretched
of human beings. See Byron's, Wallis's, Bougainville's
Voyag-cs, and Cook's First and Second Voyages round the
World. {>])

FUEGO, or Fogo. See Cafie de Verd Islands.

FUENTE D'HoNORES, Battle of. See Britain,

FULCRUM. See Mechanics. -

FULDA, a town of Germany, in the circle of the Up-
per Rhine, and capital of the bishopric of the same name,
but lately transferred to the Grand Duciiy of Frankfort, is
situated nearly in the centre of the bishopric, on the hanks
of the river Fulda. The principal objects of interest r.t
Fulda, arc the palace, with its pleasure gardens, where
the bishop formerly resided, containing an apartment of
optical glasses ; tlie cathedral and its treasury ; the church
of St Boniface; the church of St Michael, which is said
to have some resemblance to the temple of Jerusalem;
and the convent of Franciscans, finely situated out of the
town. The university of Fulda was founded in 1739; and
in the ancient library are to be found many rare and valua-
ble MSS. Here is a manufactory of porcelain. In the
neighbourhood of Fulda are the baths of Briickenau,
which are celebrated for their romantic situation, and for
the good society which is to be met with. The celebrated
Jesuit, Athanasius Kircher, was a native of this town. Po-
pulation 12,000. Its position, according to trigonometrical
observations, is East Long. 9" 44' o", and North Lat. 50°
S3' 57". {iv)

FULDA. Bishopric: of, the name of an ancient princi-
pality in Germany, which was included by Bonaparte in the
Grand Duchy of Frankfort. The extent of this principa-
lity was formerly 37 square German miles ; its annual re-
venue 35,000 rixdollars, and its population 900,000. The
piincipality contained many well-wooded mountains, some
rich arable land, and several important salt springs. See
Confederation of the Rhine, Geumaxv, and Catteau de
CallcvilK's Voyage en jilleinagne et en Suede, torn. i. p.
259, 260, where the reader will find an account of the
origin of tlie town of Fulda.

FULGORA. See Eniomology, Judex.

FULLERS Earth. Two sorts of argillaceous earths
are described imder the name of cimolia. in catalogues of
the Materia Medica, cunolia albu, sen argilla alba, Pharm.
Edinb. the pure white stipng clay, called, from the use to
which it is principally applied, toiiacco-pipe-clay ; and ci-
molia fmrpurascens, (Pharm. Edin.) a compact bolar earth,
commonly of a greyish brown colour, called from its use
fullers earth. These have been both since expunged, and
the name cimolia would appear to have been given from
Ciniolus, the ancient name oi an island in the sea of Crete,
opposite to the promontory Zephyrus, having the same
Icind of soil ; hence terra cimolia, Yiifuihia yii, chalk, or
f idlers earth, and Cretosnque rura Cimoli, Ovid ; it is now
called Sicandro.

Among the useful researches for which we are indebted
to the illustrious Hergnun, we fmd one upon lithomarge,
or stone marl, wliicli seems to differ tiorn common marl in
its composition, chiefly in possessing a much ^argcr por-
tion of siliceous, and less of calcareous earth ; the general
characters of wliich are, l.st, When diy, it is smooth and
slippery, like hard soap: 2dly, Ii is not perfectly diffusible
in water; but when immersed in that fluid, it falls into
pieces of greater or less magnitude, or in such a manner
as to assume the appearance of curds: Sdly, In the fire it
easily melts into a while or reddish frothy slag, wdiich is
considcraljly larger than before, in conseciuence of its po-
rosity : ithly, lis fracture is irregularly convex, or con-
cave. Fullers earth i» one of the most useful varieties of
lithomarge. Its particular characters are, that the colour
is greenish white, greenish grey, olive oil green, greyish
ash coloured, brown in all degrees, from very pale to almost
black ; light yellowish green, or yellowish grey, passing
Lito pale ochre yellow ; its colouis are sometimes disposed
in spots or stripes ; it occurs oidy in mass, and is without
lustre ; it is very hard and firm, of a compact texture, of a
rough and somewhat dusty surface; kt fracture is uneven,
passing into large conchoidal and slaty or fine-grained; it
breaks by force into indelerminate, blunt-edged, or slaty
fragments; it is unctuous to the touch, not staining the
hands, nor breaking easily between the fingers. It has a
little harshness between the teeth, melts freely in the
mouth, adheres slightly to the tongue. It is opake, and
sufficiently soft to be scratched by the nail. It lakes a po-
lish by friction, is moderately heavy; but its specific gra-
vity has not been accurately ascertained : thrown iiito water,
it makes no ebullition, or hissing, but swells gradually in
bulk, and falls into a fine soft powder, especially when the
water is warm : it does not effervesce with acids ; before
the blow-pipe it melts into a brown spongy scoria. The
fullers earth of Hampshire was analyzed by Bergman,
from wh^ch he obtained the following results : —

Silex 51.8

Alumina 25.0

Lime 3.3

Magnesia 0.7

Oxide of iron 3.7

Water, or moist volatile matter ... 15.5

100.0

The analysis of other earths included in lithomarge will
be found below, under Substitutes. There appears to be
two distinct formations of fullers earth ; or rather two dif-
ferent minerals seem to be confounded under the same
name. The tullers earth of Saxoviy belongs to tlie primi-
tive rocks, being found under strata of slaty gruristein, and
passing by degrees into this very mineral ; hence it con-
sists of the same materials, either originally deposited in
this loose state, or having acquired this consistence from
decomposiiion. The English fullers earth, on the other hand,
is always found in beds covered by, and resting upon, that
peculiar and hitherto undescribed sand-stone formation,
which accompanies and serves as the foundation to chalk.

Fullers earth is found in several counties of England ;
but in greatest abundance in Bedfordshire, Bcrksliire,
Hampshire, and Surry. For some account of tliis mineral
in Surry, see the article England, vol. viii. p. 713. As a
more particular account will naturally be expected under
the present article, wc shall consider the subject under the
follou'ing heads: \st, Particulars with regard to the coun-
ties of England in which it has been lound ; 2dly, The
mode of treatment adopted by manufacturers; 2dly, Its

FULLERS EARTH.

495

various us(5s ; 4//;^^ Legal restraints ; Sthlij, Hubstituica
used either at hoin. or abroad.

In the county ot !jiirry there are great ciuantilies of ful-
lers earth found abou: Nuifield, Riegatc, and IJlechingley,
to the soutli of the Downs, and some, hut of inferior qua-
lity, near Sutton and Croydon, to the north of them. The
most considerable pits arc near Nulficld, between which
place and Rici^'ate, particularly on Kcdhill, about a mile to
the east of Riegatc, it lies so near the surface, as frequent-
ly to be turned up by the wheels of the waggons. The
fullers earth to the north of the road between Rcdliill and
Nutfield, and about a quarter of a mile from the latter
place, is very thin ; the scam in general is thickest on the
swell of the hill to the south of the road. It is not known
iiow long this earth has been dug in Surry ; the oldest pit
now wrought is said to have lasted between fifty and sixty
years, but it is fast wearing out. The seam of fullers earth
dips in diflerent directions. In one, if not in more cases,
it inclines to the west with a -considerable angle. There
are two kinds of it, the blue and the yellow : the former,
on the eastern side of the pit, is frequently within a yard
of the surface, being covered merely with the soil, — a
tough, wet, clayey loam. A few yards to the west, the
blue kind appears, with an irony sand stone, of nearly two
yards in thickness, between it and the soil. The blue earth
in this pit is nearly 16 feet deep. In some places the yel-
low kind is found lying upon the blue ; there seeijis, in-
deed, to be no regularity either in the position or inclina-
tion of the strata where the fullers cyrth is found, nor any
mark by which its presence could be iletected. It seems
rather thrown in patches, than laid in any continued or re-
gular vein. In the midst of the fullers earth are often
found large pieces of stone of a yellow colour, translu-
cent, and remarkably heavy, which have been found to be
sulphate of barytes, encrusted with ciuavtzoso crystals.
These are carefully removed from the fullers earth, as the
■workmen say they often spoil many tons of it which lie
about them. There is also found with the yellow fullers
earth a dark brown crust, which the workmen consider as
injurious also. In Surry, the price of fullers earth seems
to have vaiied very little, at least for these last SO years.
In 1730, the price at the pit was 6d. a sack, and 6s. per
load or ton. In 1744, it was nearly the same. It is car-
ried in waggons, each drawing from three to four tons, to
the beginning of the iron rail-way near Weslham, along
which it is taken to the banks of the Tiiames, where it is
sold at the different wharfs for about 25s. or 26.s. per ton.
It is thence shipped off either to the north or west of Eng-
land. A considerable quantity is also taken down into
Wiltshire by the waggoners, .especially when they happen
not to have a full loud of goods.

The workmen are paid at the rate of 2.s. 6f/. per ton ;
this includes the expcnce of clearing away the upper soil,
as well as that of raising the fullers earth. They can work
on the earth only when the weather is dry ; it is then weigh-
ed as it is dug out, by means of a rude scale suspended
over tliat part of the pit where they happen to be working,
on three or four poles fastened together at the top, and
spread out at their lower ends, (an instrument called pro-
vincially a triangle). The earth that is not immediately
carted off by the waggons, is put under cover in an adjoin-
ing shed, in order to preserve it from the rain. During
rainy weather, and after it till the earth is pretty well dried,
the workmen employ themselves in uncovering tlie upper
soil. The sandstone that lies over the blue fullers earth is
broken into pieces ; the larger pieces are used for building,
and the smaller for the roads ; the first brings in. 6d. the
waggon load, the secontl Ss. 5d. ; of each of which the work-
men receive about one half. In the heart of the sandstone,

pieces of petrified wood, of considerable size, and some-
times of a very grotesque shape, are often Tound. The
workmen 'complain, that since the iron rail-way was
brought to Westham, the demand for this earth, though
equally great, is not nearly so regular as it used to be. It
is thought that the demand for the Surry fullers earth will
be lessened by the recent discovery of a pit of the yellow,
Qj- better sort, near Maidstone in Kent. Fullers earth does
not appear to hasten or impede, to injure or to benefit, ve-
getation. See Stevenson's Surry, p. 50 — 53.

The next characteristic stratum, owing to its forming a
ridge of conspicuous hills through the coimlry, is the Wo-
burn land, a thick ferruginous stratum, which below its mid-
dle contains a stratum of fullers earth, which is thicker and
more pure in Aspley and Ilogstye End, two miles north-
west of Woburn, than in any known place. The upper
parts of this land are frequently cemented by the oxidated
iron into car stone, and the lower parts contain fragments
of silicified wood. See Farcy's Derbyshire., p. 112.

No stratum of this mineral occurs in Derbyshire ; but
lumps of it of considerable size, very pure, and much like
that of Bedfordshire, are frequently foimd in the marshy
gravel pit one-third of a mile east of Bretby church. SN
milar lumps occur in the hard gravel rock under Masham
town, and smaller ones in the alluvial covering of the gyp-
sum quarries south-east of Chellaston. In Brassington a
clay is dug, with which cloths are scoured ; and at Brath-
well, north-west of Tickhill in Yorkshire, considerable
quantities of fullers earth are got, probably alluvia on the
yellow lime. See Yx^vfty'^ Derbyshire, p. 465.

Of the more rare kinds of earths and clays, there have
been found red and yellow ochres, fullers earth, and tobacco
pipe-clay ; but probably from the want of an adequate sup-
ply, or some imperfection in their qualities, they are now
generally procured from other places. Fullers earth is,
however, still dug occasionally for sale, in small quantities,
on the estates of the late honourable Edward Foley, of
Stoke Edith. See Dunscomb's Herefordshire.

Fullers earth is found at Tillington, and consumed in the
neighbouring fulling mills. See Young's Sussex.

JVIr Little and Mr Brown, in sinking a well at Padding-
ton in the year 1802, near the one mile stunc on the Edge-
ware road, discovered a stratum of fullers earth at a con-
siderable depth, but so thin as not to be of any importance-.
See Middleton's Middlesex.

The above seems to be nearly all the places in England
where this mineral is best found. We have now to give
an account of its preparation by manufactureis, for their
peculiar purposes. We have seen in the chemical account
of this mineral, that it is not perfectly diffusible in water;
but when immersed in that fluid, it falls into pieces of
greater or less magnitude, or in such a manner as to assume
the appearance of curds. Of this the manufacturers are
fully aware ; but as it is necessary for them that the coarse
and fine should be minutely separated, they pursue the fol-
lowing method. That they may effect a complete solu.
tion, they bake it for one or two hours, according to the de-
gree of heat. To accomplish greater regularity in the
baking, and to make it dissolve much sooner, the large
lumps are broken into pieces of a quarter or a half pound
each. After baking it is thrown into cold water, when it
falls into powder, and the separation of the coarse from the
fine effectually accomplished, by a simple method used in
the dry coloiu' manufactories, called v^iashing over. It is
done in the following manner : Three or four tubs are con-
nected on a line by spouts from their tops ; in the first the
earth is boat and stirred, and the water, which is continu-
ally running from the first to the last through intermediate
ones, carries v/ith it an Aleposits the fine, whilst the coarse

49G

FUL

settles in the fii^t. The advantages to be derived from this
operation are, ihat the two itincls will be much filter for
their respective purposes of cleansing coarse or fine cloth ;
and without baking the earth would be unfit, as before no-
ticed, to incorporate so minutely with the water in its na-
tive state ; it would neither so readily dissolve, nor so easily
be divided into different qualities, witiiout the process of
washing over. When fuel is scarce for baking the earth, it
is broken into pieces of the same size, as mentioned above,
and then exposed to the heat of the sun.

The various uses of fullers earth may be shortly explain-
ed. According to the above method, the coarse and fine
©f one pit are separated; and the first is used for cloths of
an inferior, and the second for those of a superior, quality.
The yellow and the blue earths of Surrey are of different
qualities naturally, and are, like the above, obtained artifi-
cially, and used for different purposes. The former, which
is deemed the best, is employed in fulling the kerseymeres
and finer cloths of Wiltshire and Gloucestershire, whilst
the blue is principally sent into Yorkshire for the coarser
cloths. Its effects on these cloths is owing to the affinity
■which alumine has for greasy substances ; it unites readily
Avith them, and forms combinations which easily attach
themselves to different stuffs, and thereby serve the pur-
pose of mordants to some colours ; as is the case in the
Turkey red. The fullers generally apply it before they
use the soap. It may be used also instead of soap on board
of ship, to wash linen or the hands with salt water, with
ivhich it is well known soap does not unite.

The legal restrictions on the exportation of fullers
cai'th, may be found in the 12 Car. II. 13 and 14 Car. II. ;
9 and 10 William III. c. 40 ; 6 Geo. I. c. 21. §22. The
penalties are so enormous, that foreign chemists turned
their attention to discover substitutes for fullers earth.
Cronstedt describes only the lithomarge of Osmund, Tar-
tary, and Lemnos ; the Hampshire fullers earth not having
come to his hands, probably on account of the severe pe-
nalties imposed by the English legislature on its exporta-
tion. Bergman examined them all except the second,
which is the keffckil of the Crim Tartars, who are said to
use it instead of soap, and of which he was not provided
with a sample. Wiegleb, in Crell's Journal, quoted by
Kirwan, found that it consists of equal parts of magnesia
and silex.

The Lemnian earth, so called as being found in Lemnos,
was highly esteemed for many centuries, for its supposed
medical virtues, and till lately sold in Europe under the
seal of the grand signior, (hence called terra sigiilata.) has
the external appearance of clay, with a smooth surface, re-
sembling agate, especially in its recentfractures, which are
usually either concave or convex. It may be scraped with
the nail, is composed of impalpable particles, though a lit-
tle gritty between the teeth, under which it feels like tal-
low. When immersed in water, it is spontaneously divided
into small pieces, with a slight crackling noise, but they do
not become so small as to be invisible or impalpable ; pul-
verization and boiling in water diffuse it in the fluid, wnich
passes almost perfectly clear through double filtering pa-
^er. This earth removes impurities like soap, though it
affords no froth.

The Osmundic earth comes from Osmund, in the parish
of Rutwick, ill East Dalecarlia. Its colour is grey like cin-
ders ; its surface rough, and as if greased ; it is harder than
the Lemnian earth, breaks into angiilar pieces, adheres
strongly to the lip, and is more gritty between the teeth
than that earth : in water it separates into smaller particles,
and is detergent. By the humid analysis, Bergman found
the constituent parts of the two foregoing ea'rthj as follows:

Ltmnian earch.

Silcx 47

Carbonate of lime 5.4

Magnesia 6.2

Alumine 10

Oxide of iron 5.4

Moist volatile matter capable of being

expelled by drying 26

100

Osmundic earth.

White siliceous powder 50

Lime 5.7

Magnesia 0.5

Alumine n.l

Oxide of iron 4.7

Moist volatile matter is

100

Amongst the foreign varieties of lithomarge, the fullers
earth of Saxony ought not to be forgotten, particularly in"
this place, where substitutes are treated of: For this, how-
ever, we must refer to the beginning of the article, and this
head will be concladed by introducing a substance that is
very generally found botli in Great Britain and abroad. Ful-
lers earth, we have seen, from the general results, is alu-
mine, combined wilh very fine silex ; it is essential to this
earth that the particles of silica should be very fine, other-
wise they would cut the fine cloth : hence the object in
washing over the fullers earth, mentioned in a preceding
paragraph. It is owing to the stror.g affmity, as noted be-
fore, which alumine has for greasy substances, that it is so
useful in scouring cloth ; hence pipe clay, the cimolian
earth mentioned in the beginning of this article, is frequent-
ly used for the same purpose ; and it may also be concluded^
that any c/ay possessed of this property may be considered,
in its uses, as fullers earth; for it is the alumine alone which
acts upon the grease in the cloth.

The properties required in good fullers earth are, that it
should contribute to the washing away all impurities, and
promote that curling and intermixture of the hairs of the
woollen cloth, which thicken its texture, and give it the
desired firmness. Both pi-obaljly depend on its detergent
quality, that clears away all the unctuous matter of the wool,
and renders its parts capable of becoming more perfectly
entangled by the mechanical action of fulling ; an effect not
so likely to take place where the fibres or hairs are dispo-
sed by grease to slide easily over each other. The deter-
gent power resides in all clays, but is doubtless greatly in-
creased by the siliceous earth, wliicii may be considered as
the brush, while the clay serves as the soap. This is fa-
miliarly shewn by the common practice of adding sand to
soap, which renders it much more detergent, but, at the
same time more capable of injuring the substances to which
it is applied, and that more especially when the sand is
coarse. Fullers earth is bad if the sand be not excceuingly
fine, and the superior excellence of the Hampshire earth
seems to depend more on the fineness of its parts, tlian on
their proportions, as is shewn by the experiment of boiling
it in water, after which it passes more i^Icntifully through
the filter than any of the other kinds of lithomarge. (j)

FULMINATING PowcEiis, is a name gi\en to those
chemical compounds which are decon>posed with such ra-
pidity as to produce a report, with other signs of violence.

FUL

FUM

407

T-hc most cdiisjjiciioiis of these bodies nrc the aiiimoni'iirets
of gold, silver, and mercury; the precipitate (ormed by al-
cohol from nitrate of mercury, which has been called Jul-
mhiadnff jncrcury, and the powder formed with potasli, ni-
tre, and sulphur, caUei] /lu/vis /ulininans.

The first of thcbc compounds, viz. ammoninret of p;okl,
is prepared by dissolving gold in a mixture of etjual parts
of nitric and muriatic acids; dilute the solution with three
times its volume of water ; and add pure aquA ammonia by
a little at a time, so lofng as any jjrccipitate is thrown down.
Beyond this point, more amfnonia would rcdissolvc the pre-
cipitate, which is the substance to be obtained.

In this process, the ammonia combines witli the oxide of
i;old, forming an insoluble yellowish powder. This is to
be separated from the liquid, washed with pure water, and
dried at a low heat upon filteriiTg paper. When dry, it
must be cautiously put into a clean bottle, the mouth of
which must not be corked, but slightly covered with paper.
Fulminating gold, thus prepared, has the following pro-
perties. It explodes by a smart blow from a hammer, or
when sharply triturated in a mortar. It is also decompo-
sed with sudden violence when heated to about 250°. By
all these means, the explosion is accompanied with a loud
report, and the disengagemejit of elastic fluids, and is ac-
companied with light and heat. The hydrogen of the am-
n-ionia combines with the oxygen of the oxide of gold, form-
ing water, which is dispersed in the form of highly elastic
steam. The azote of the ammonia, at the same time, is
evolved, acquiring great expansive force by the disengei-
g-ed caloric.

Fulminating silver is prepared by first dissclving pure
silver in nitric acid. By adding lime water to this solu-
tion, the oxide of silver is precipitated ; this oxide is now
separated by filtering and washing. Pure ammonia is now
to be poured upon the oxide, aud allowed to remain upon
it twelve hours. The liquid part is now to be carelully
decanted off, and a black powder remains, which is the am-
inoniuret of silver, the substance in question. It is now to
he transferred with great caution, and by a little at a time,
into as many portions of clean filtering paper. This pow-
der is even capable of exploding, while moist, by a blow.
When dry, it becomes so susceptible of decomposition as
to explode by the slightest touch. The liquid separated
from the powder, on being heated in a glass reto:t, aflbrds
azotic gas ; and small opaque ciystals soon begin to appear,
of great brilliancy, having mttailic lustre. These crystals
are doubtless the true compound of ammonia with oxide of
silver, owing their production in the crystalline form to
their solubility in water. On bein.g touched they detonate,
even when covered with the liquid in which -they are
formed.

The same explanation which has been applied to the ful-
minating gold will apply to the substance in question, al-
though the reason is not very obvious why the fulminating
silver should be more easily decomposed. Perhaps it will
l)e found, that the silver contains twice the quantity of oxy-
gen with the gold, and that the oxide of the former coni-
!)ines with twice the quantity of ammonia.

Fulminating silver has been lately used in making what
have been called fulminating balls. These consist of small
bubbles of glass, a little larger than a pea. A small por-
tion of this compound is introduced at a little opeuing left
for the purpose. The glass is then covered with paper.
Any force capable oi breaking the bubble produces the ex-
plosion.

Mercury, from its weak affinity for oxygen, forms a de-
tonating compound with ammonia, and other bodies con-
taining much hydrogen. The first of these compounds is
formed, by digesting strong aqua ammonia upon the red

Vol. IX. Part II.

oxide of mercury for tenor twelve days. At the end of
tbis time, the oxide assumes a while colour in crystals,
having the form of small scales. In this form, it fulminates
by heat similar to lulminatin<^ Ri'ld. Its effects, however,
are not so strongly marked as the two former, and it gradu-
ally loses its fulminating properly by keeping. The am-
monia is separated, leaving the red oxide unchanged.

Another lulminating compound with mercury, was dis-
covered by Mr Howard. It is prepared, by dissolving 100
grains of- mercury in one ounce and a haff of nitric acid
of the common strength. When the solution is cold, add
to it two ounces of alcohol. Heat the mixture gra<lually
till effervescence takes place. A greyish wiiite precipi-
tate will now be formed, which must be sep^irated by the
filtre, washed with distilled water, and dried at a heat not
exceeding 212°.

This powder fulminates with great violence. A few
grains laid upon an an-^'il, and struck with a hammtr, gives
a report as loud as a pistol. The same elfect takes place,-
by triturating it in a mortar.

It produces a much greater quanlity of light than any
other of the fulminating compounds, butveiy little heat.
When it is mixed with gunpowder, and a train of the ful-
minating mercury be laid into the mixture, and fired by the
lighted paper, the whole of the fulminating mercury will
be consumed without firing the gunpowder.

Whether fulminating mercury be exploded by heat or by
percussion, the surface of the bodies near to it become co-
vered with the vapour of mercury.

This compound is said to consist of the oxide of mercury,
combined with oxalic acid, and a large quantity of nitrous
etherized gas. The explosive effect is to be attributed to
the oxygen of the mercury combining with hydrogen in the
etherized gas.

The fulminating compound, composed of three parts ni-
tre, two parts potash, and one of sulphur, has been long
known. When a little of this mixture is laid upon an iron
shovel, and hekl over the fire, or placed upon burning coals,
or even held over the llanie of a candle, it first melts, and
then very suddenly explodes with a report equal to that of
a musket. Equal parts of sulphuret of potash and nitre
form the most perfect compound. Hence it is evident, that
during the melting of the first preparation, the sulphur
unites with the potash, forming a sulphuret, which at the
same moment acts upon the nitre. The explosive effects
are to be attribute-d to the formation and rapid evolution of
sulphureted hydrogen and sulphurous acid gases, the dis-
engagement of azotic gas, and the highly elastic steam
from the water in the nitre and potash. (c. s.)

FUMIGATION, in medicine, signifies the mutation of
different fumes, for the relief of catarrhs, coughs, sore
throats, &c. The term is also applied to the process of
fumigating rooms during the prevalence of contagious dis-
ease. This has been long practised, but perhaps with little
success, till the discovery of the method proposed by Dr
Carmicliacl Smith. We cannot expect much benefit to
have been derived from the fumes of pitch, nor even Irom
vinegar, which is more modern.

If it be true that contagious diseases are derived from the
presence of some elastic fluid existing in the atmosphere,
which has been called miasma, and since these, of which
there must be varieties, as well as the disagreeable odours
resulting from putridity, in all probability are inflammable
matter, having hydrogen for their basis, it seems highly rea-
sonable, that good effects may result from fumigating the
places wheie they prevail, with substances which easily
combine with hydrogen. Hence we are to attribute the good
efi'ects which were produced OD board ships, and other
places where contagious disease prevailed, by the use of
3 R

498

FUN

the fumes of nitric acid as pvaclised by Dr Smitli, who, for
ihis discovery, received a premium from parliament.

After the discovery of the oxymuriatic acid,Guyton Mor-
veau, the French chemist, tried the eft'ccts of this gas in
the hospitals of France, with such decided success, as to
put its efficacy in destroying tlie contagious matter beyond
all doubt. The mixture which furnishes the oxymuriatic
acid consists of three parts of common salt, one part of
black oxide of manganese, and two parts of sulphuric acid.
The salt and manganese are first mixed together, and pla-
ced in vessels of stone- ware or glass, in the various rooms.
The sulphuric acid is to be added by a little at once, from
time to time, observing that the whole must not exceed the
proportion above stated. The gas should never be evolved
in a quantity, to excite coughing, nor to be otherwise disa-
greeable to the lungs. When we consider the beneficial
effects of this gas, we cannot fail to see the necessity for
using some of its liquid preparations for washing the hands
and other bodies employed in cases of contagious diseases.
These may be the oxymiiriate of lime used in bleaching,
or simple water impregnated with the gas. (l'. s.)

FUNCHAL. See Madeira.

FUNCTION, in analysis, is an expression of calculation,
formed in any manner whatever from one or several quan-
tities on which its value depends. Thus, if j; denote a va-
riable quantity, and a, b, c, d, constant quantities, then

'^ is a function of x. Again, if x and y are variable

c+dx

quantities, and a and b constant quantities, the expression

axy-\-by'' is a function of .rand y. For other distinctions

between functions, see Fluxions, Sect. I. Art. 2. The

term function was first introduced into analysis by John

Bernoulli. -

Calculus of Functions.

Sir Isaac Newton, the inventor of the method of fluxions,
made its principles depend on the properties of motion,
(see Fluxions, Art. 20 — 23); and Leibnitz founded its
equivalent, the differential calculus, on the nature of quan-
tities, which might be regarded as infinitely small in re-
spect of others. At first, mathematicians were more eager
to explore the rich mine which these philosophers had
opened, than to call in question the principles which had
led to its discovery. But when these came to be critically
examined, it was observed, that as motion was an idea fo-
reign to pure analysis, it could not legitimately be made
the foundation of one of its most important theories. Also,
that the notion of a quantity infinitely little, was too vague
to form the basis of a branch of the most precise of all the
sciences. Hence it was thought desirable, that the calcu-
lus should have an origin purely analytical, and should de-
pend entirely on the properties of finite quantities.

To accomplish this reform, ths late M. Lagrange at-
tempted to model anew the principles of the calculus. He
gave his ideas in the Berlin Memoirs for 1772, also in his
Theorie des Fonctions jlnalytiques, (1797,) which, he says,
" contains the principles of the differential calculus, disen-
gaged from all considerations of infinitely small or vanish-
ing quantities, or of limits or fluxions;" and again in his
Lejons sur le Calcul des Fonctions.

In the calculus of functions, the variable quantities are
denoted by the last letters of the alphabet r, y, &c. and the
constant quantities by the first letters a, b, &c. A func-
tion of a single quantity, is expressed by placing the cha-
racteristic letter/or F before it. Thus /a,-, or Fjt, means
any function of x. To denote a function of a quantity, that
is itself composed of a variable quantity x, for example x',
or a+6 x-\-Q x^, ^c. the compound quantity is included in

a parenthesis, thus/(x^), orf{a-ltbx-\-cx'^). A function of
two independent variable quantities x and y is cxpre sed
thus/(.r, y) ; and so of others.

If two functions of two variable quantities x and y are
composed exactly in the same manner, and with the same
constant quantiiics, for example a x^ -{-b x-\-c, and a y^-f-i
1/ + C, these are like functions, and may be expressed in the
same calculation thus, /a: and/i/ ; but if the constant quan-
tities are not the same in both, they cannot be represented
by the same characteristic in the same calculation. How-
ever, if the constant quantities enter alike into both func-
tions, and only differ in their absolute values, as in a .r^
and b t/^, these in the same calculation may be denoted by
f{x, a) andy(!/, A.) The general notation we have used in
Fluxions, art. 18, 23,28, 45, &c. and in art. 193, Prob. 4.
is almost the very same as that of Lagrange.

The theory of functions depends on the change which
takes place in the value of a function, when its variable
quantity is increased by some indefinite increment, and on
the form of the developement of its new value. In the func-
tion/jr:=jr^, when X is augmented by the quantity z, then
fx becomes /(jr-|-i)=(j;-f-jy— x^ + 2 x f-f i^, and in the
function y"jr=:x3, when x becomes jr-f-i, then yx becomes
f {x-\-i)zz{x-\-i)'^zsx^ -{-Z x'^ i-f 3xj^-J-i^, and again, in the

functionyx= — , when x becomes x-\-i,f x becomesy(x

-hO= — rT= r'H r' r' + ^c. Byanex-

' x + r X x'- x^ X* '

amination of any number of particular cases, it will appear
that they have a common property, which consists in the
developement olf{x-\-i) the new value of the function hav-
ing always the form f x-\-i}i-\-i'' y-f-i'' r-j- Sec. an expres-
sion in which the first term \%fx, the original function,
and the remaining terms are the successive positive inte-
ger powers of i, the increment, multiplied by a series of
quantities /i, q, r, &c. functions of x, which are entirely in-
dependent of i, and which have a determinate form, that
depends upon the nature of the original function. The
truth of this analytic theorem, first particularly noticed by
Euler, may be inferred from induction : As however it must
result from the principles of analysis, Lagrange has endea-
voured to demonstrate, that if the function f{x-\-i') be de-
veloped into a series of the form

/x-fj/i-fi- g+P r+ ^c.
the terms of which consist each of a single power of i mul-
tiplied by a function of x, that is entirely independent of i,
the developement shall contain only the positive integer
powers of;', and cannot by any means contain either a ne-
gative or fractional power of that quantity, provided that the
value of X be altogether indeterminate. If, however, par-
ticular values be given to x, then the proposition will not
be universally true. Our limits oblige us to refer to La-
grange's work for the demonstration [Theorie des Fonc-
tions), which has in some respects been rendered more
complete by Poisson, Corresfiondence sur L'Ecole Polytech-
nirjues. No. 3.

It being ascertained that the developement of/(x-|-2) has
in general the form

fx+i/i + i^ g-\-i'' r-f kc.
in which fi, g, r &c. are new functions of x, which derive
their origin from the original functionyx, the next thing
to be considered is the law of relation which connects
these quantities with each other. To determine this, La-
grange supposes X to change its value, and become x-j-o,
0 being any indeterminate quantity which is independent
of i. It is evident that the function/(x+!) will then be-
come/(x-fi-|-o), and it appears also that the same result
will be had, if in/(x-f z) we put i+o instead off. There-
fore also the result must be the same, whether we put

FUNCTIONS.

49L(

j+o instead of i, or j; + o in place of x in the develope-

ment

fx+ifi+i- q+i r+ &.C.
By the substitution of ?+o instead of i in the series, it be-
comes

/x+{i+o) /,+{i+o)^ q+(i+oy r+ &c.
which, by expanding tiie powers of i+o, and writing, for
the sake of brevity, only the two first terms of each power,
because the comparison of these terms is sufficient for the
object in view, is transformed to

(A)
/x+i/i+ i" q + r r + i* s + he.
-\-o/i+2ioq + 5i^ or+4:Pos+ he.
In order to efleci the substitution of x + o instead of x in
the same series, we must consider, that seeing the function
fx becomes fx + i/i+i" q+i^r+ See. when x is changed
into x+i, it will become/:r+o/j + o^ q + o^ r, &c. when x
is changed into x+o. In like manner, iifi+i/i'+ he. q +
iq'+ he. r-{-it^+ he. are what the functions/;, (/,»•, See. be-
come when x+i is substituted in them in place of x, and
they are developed according to the powers of ;, we shall
have by changing i into o,

/j+o/i'-f- &c. (7 + 09'+ &c. r+or'+ &c.
for the developements oJ the same functions, when x-\-o is
substituted in them instead of x. Therefore, by this substi-
tution, the series/jr4-!/!+z2y+&c. will become, by omitting
the terms which contain the second and higher powers of 0,

fx+ifi+i- q + i^ r + i* s + &c.
-\-ofi+iofi'+ t^ og'+fioT^-\- he.
This result ought to be identical with the other, indepen-
dently of the values of i and o,.which may be any quantities
whatever. Now, by the theory of indeterminate quantities,
this can only be true when the co-efficients of like powers,
and products of i and 0, are identical ; hence, by comparing
the developements (A) and (B), we get these identical
equations,

2 q=fi', 3 r=q', 4 «=/, &c.
from which again we find

9=>/i'. r=|9', 5=^/, &c.
Remarking now thai fl is deduced from the original func-
tion /x, by first substituting x+i for x, then developing
the result /[x^i) into a series, proceeding according to
the powers of i, and lastly, taking for the value of fi that
function which is the co-efficient of the simple power of j;
its origin, and the series of operations by which it has been
found, may be indicated by an appropriate symbol. We
have already put //, q', Z, &c. to denote quantities deduced
from the functions/;, y, r, he. exactly as // is deduced from
r; we may similarly denote the quantity /; byy'x, that is,
by the symbol for the function from which it has been de-
rived, with the addition of an accent over the characteristic
letter. As the function /; or f x is derived from the func-
tiony.r, so from the functiony' .r, a new function may be,
in like manner, derived, which may be indicated hy f" x ;
from this last again another function, which may be repre-
sented hyf'x, may be found, and so on: So that, in fact,
the functions/' x,/" jr,y" .r, &c. are the co-efficients off,
in the first terms of the developements of the functions
Ax+iyf\x+i),f\x + i). he.

We have therefore /i=/'j::, and as/i' is the function de-
rived from /;, as /; was from f x, we have f!=zf" x, and
therefore q^ij" x. Again, q' being derived from q ex-
actly as fi' was from /;, or p fxoxafx, we have q'-=^f" a-,

and consequently r= -- — r-/'" x., and so on.

Therefore, substituting these expressions in the series

fx+ii}'\-i' q+i^ r + he.

which is the developement of/(x-f i), we find
f{x+i)=fx+ifx+ ^/"x+~/"'x

2.3

-/"'x-f Sec.

2.3.4''

This beautiful analytical theorem was in substance ori-
ginally discovered by Dr Brook Taylor (Met/iodua Incrc
7nentorum.) Lagrange first demonstrated it independently
of the fluxional or differential calculus, and made it the
foundation of his theory of functions. The form under
which he has given it shews clearly how the terms of the
series depend on each other, and, in particular, how the
functions which are the co-efficients of i may be derived
one from another, when the manner of forming the first
/' X from the original function/x is known.

Lagrange calls the function jfo; the /irimilivejunclion, in
respect of the functions /'x,/" x, he. These, again, in
respect of the primitive function, he calls derivative func-
tions (^functions derivees.') The function/' x is called the
first derivative function, or derivative functiori of the first
order, or simply the prirne function ; the function/" x, de-
rived from it, is called the second derivative function, or de-
rivative function of the second order, or simply the second
function ; and again, /'" x, derived from the preceding, is
the third derivative function, or derivative function of the
third order, or third function, and so on.

Any function whatever, in respect to that from which it
is derived, is its derivative function, and this last is \.Y\e pri-
mitive function of the other.

Sometimes, instead of using the characteristic letter/, a
function of x may be denoted by a single letter y , then, y
being used instead of the symbol /x, the symbols y', y'\ y'",
he. may represent the characters/' x,f" x-f" x, he. Ac-
cording to this notation, y being any function of x, when x
becomes x+/>, then y will become

y+i!/'+|-y"+-5^y"'+&c.

Since every derivative function of the first order is mere-
ly the co-efficient of i in the developement of the primitive
function/x, when x+i is substituted instead of x, the de-
termination of the derivative function of any power what-
ever x" is in fact the same thing as the determination of the
term that contains the first power of i in the developement
of [x+i)" , according to the powers of i. Now it may be
demonstrated by the elementary operations of algebra, that
whether ?; be positive or negative, whole or fractional, the
two first terms of the developement of [x+i)" are x" -f-
n x"~' i, (See Algebra, art. 319 ; also Fluxions, art. 7.) ;
therefore, the first derivative function of x" is ?i x"-'. It is
now easy to find all the terms of the developement of
f(x+i)=(x+iy^. For since from/x=x'' , we have/'x
=n x"~', from this last we derive

f"x=n{n—\)x"-2,
and hence again /"'x=« {n — I) {v — 2)x^-^, he. So that
from the series

f[x+i)=fx+ifx+-^f"x^+hc.

we get

{x+i)" =x" +n x"-i ;■ -f-^"~ ^x"-^ i^ + he.

which is Newton's binomial theorem.

Next let the function be/x=a-^, a being supposed con-
stant, and X variable ; then/(x-|-i)=Q'»''''. Now, the com-
mon principles of analysis are sufficient to prove that the
two first terms of the developement of a^' are a* -J- A a*z;
here A is the Napierian log. of a, (see Algebra, art. 355 ;
also Fluxions, art. 14. and 19.) Therefore the first deri-
3R2

500

FUN

vativ^function of a^" is Arr^', lliat li^J'x z= A a-' ; hence

aj^iiin./" x—.\"a'',f"x=iAia'-' S<c. These values siilwti-

tultd in the dcvelapcment c{f(x+i) give

A^ A"

c-T+i = ft.r _|. A (!-■>■ i H — 6--' i' + -—^ a ■'■ '■' + £< c •

Let the function be fx = log. x, then /(j:+0 = log.
(x+i); but it may be proved, as in the former cases, that

the two first terms of log. (x+i) are log. x+ -j^h U bc-

in3^, put for the Napierian log. of the basis of the system ;
(see Fluxioks, art. 18, and 19.) Therefore the first deri-

. r ■ r, • • • • - '

valive function of log. x is -g— -

and, because /' xzz -^
a

the rule for the derivative function of a power, we

-- = — -jj--r ; :>'«^ as«'"./"' •^'

hcnrc find/" .r =

.-, kc. These substitutions being made in the general

lix^

dcvelopcmentnt)f /(-f +0) ^^'^

gi'

t log. [x+i) = log. r

'll ..- "1" 9

::5+^

&c.

Ba- ' 2 B.r"^'^ 2 B x^

It has been shewn, (riAXioNs, art. 17, and 19,) that the
two first terms of the developemcnts of the sine and cosine
of x-i-i are

sin. (x + i) = sin. x-\-i cos. x-\- &c.

cos. (x+i) t= cos. JT — !sin. x+ Sec.
Hence it appears that the first derivative function of sin.
X is cos. X, and that the first derivative function of cos. x
is — sin. X : Since therefore in the case of/jr= sin x, we
have/'x = cos. x, it follows that/" jr= — sin. x,/'" x =
— cos. X, &.C. and since when F .r = cos. x, we have F' x
ZZ — sin. X, it follows that F" .m — cos. x, F" xzz sin. x,
Sec. These expressions substituted in the developcment
off {x+i) and F (x+i) give

sin. (x+z)— sin. x+i cos. a- r-sm.x — — cos. x+ Sec.

cos. (x+i):3 cos. X — 2 sin. x r-cos. x +— sin. *• + Sec.

From the brief view we have given of tliis calculus, its
intimate analogy with the method of fluxions, or differen-
tial calculus, must be evident. In fact, they all rest upon
the same analytical pi'inciples, and the object presented to
Ihe mind in each is the ssme ; for the different orders of de-
rivative functions in Lagrange's calculus are identical with
the successive differentials, or rather differential co-efflci-
cnts, in that of Leibnitz, and with the different orders of
fluxions in Newton's theory. The peculiarity of each cal-
culus, as delivered originally by the inventor, consists in
that relation between the original function and its prime
function, or differential, or fluxion, which the mind selects
as a subject of contemplation. We have seen that it is a
ivmdamental proposition in analysis, that U x+i be substi-
Uited for X in any function/"^, its new value /(x+i) has al-
Mays the form/'jr + i/i-t-i* ij+i^ r+ Sec./i, §■, r, Sec. being
junctions of x, which are independent of/. Newton ob-
.crved, that if x and/x are represented by two lines gene-
rated by motion, and if i be the velociky of the point which
generates a-, then i/i, the second term of the deveiopement,
will be the velocity of the point that generates/"jf ; (Flux-
ions, art. 20 — 22.) hence he called i/i lYie J! uxion of the
!unction/".r. Leibnitz again considered, that if x was in-
ereased by the quantity ;, then /a; was augmented by the
increment f/i-)-!- y-fP r+ Sec. But supposing! indefinitely
small, the first term of this series is indefinitely greater than
the sum of all the following terms ; therefgrc, rejecting
these, and retaining the term i/i alone, he called it the dif-
ferential oi the function/"x. (FLi.xio?is, ait. 10" — 1 lu.)

Lagrange, regarding the generation of algebraic quantities
by motion as incompatible with the principles of pure ana-
lysis, and also considering the doctrine of infinitely small
qiiantities as too slippery a foundation for so sublime an
edifice, he rejected both views of the suljject, and deduced
its [jrinriplcs from the theory of the deveiopement of func-
tions into scries.

It is in general admitted, that the Theorij of Analytic
Functions has fulfilled the promise of its illustrious author,
" to deliver the principles of the differential calculus disen-
gaged from the consideration of infinitely small or vanish-
ing quantities, also limits and fluxions." We think, how-
ever, that he has under-rated the value of the theory o( limits,
as delivered by Maclaurin and D'Alembert, when he says
that the kind of mctajihysi(jiie that must be employed in it
is, if not contrary, at least foreign to the spirit of analysis,
which ought not to have any other metafihysi<juc than that
which consists in the first principles, and the first funda-
mental opciatioiis of algebra.

The ingenious author, in the discussion of his theory,
has adopted a new notation. This has been matter of re-
gret, (Lacroix Cal. Dif. vol. i. ait. 82, 83.) because the no-
tation of the differential calculus was quite sufficient. In
the comparison of metliods and formula, different notations
are perplexing, and the number of arbitrary characters al-
ready employed in analysis, is a considerable and increasing
evil. This, however, is but a small defect, when the lumi-
nous views and oi iginal methods which the v.ork contains
are taken into account. iNlany of the French mathemati-
cians regard the publication of the Theory of Functions as
an era in analysis: Indeed, all the works of the differential
calculus that have since appeared, have more or less adopt-
ed its views. See, in particular, Garnicr, Lemons de Cal.
Diffirenliel. The mathematical reader will of course study
the Theorie des Fonctions itself; and it may be useful to
know, that the author published a second and improved
edition of the work in 1813, a short time before his
death. (|)

FUNCTIONS. See Physiology.

FUND, Sinking. See Debt A'afiojia/, and Sinking /^i/nrf.

FUNDI, or FoNDi, tha name of a town and lake in La-
vora, situated near the confines of the Roman and Neapo-
litan territories. The town, wlficli is situated in the fertile
valley of the same name, is very small, consisting of one
street on the Via Appia, which still retains here its ancient
form, being composed of large flags, fitted together with
great skill, and without any cement. F'undi, which has a
gloomy appearance, stands on a plain, surrounded on one
side with hills, most of which are covered with olive trees.
The whole plain is adorned with orange and citron trees,
interspersed with cypress and poplars. The wines of this
district were forvnerly celebrated, and still enjoy some re-
putation. At the extremity of the town, there is an old
castle of little strength.

The Like o'iFnnd.ijLacus Fundanus, ov.4myclanns, v/hich
lies between the road and the sea, is a fine expanse of wa-
ter, formed by several streams which fall from the moun-
tains. Towards the road, its margin is covered with myr-
tles, poplai-s, and luxuriant shrubs and flowers. The ex-
halations which arise from the lake and from the marshes,
which are produced when it overflows, greatly affect the
salubrity of this fertile valley. Mount Cscubus is seen a
little to the right, in going out of Fundi to Itri. Distance
from Capua, 40 miles west, and from Rome 56 east. East
Long. 13° 30', and North Lat. 41° 20'. See Eustace's
Travels, vol. i. p. 472. (j)

FUNDI, Bav of, is tlie name of a large arm of the sea>
extending principally between New Buvnswick and Nova
Scotia. See these articfcs.

FUN

FLN

501

i'UNEN, Fyox, oiFioNiA, is the name of an island and
province of Denmark, situated near the entrance of the
Baltic, and separated from the continent by the strait call-
ed the Little IJelt. The island is of an oval form, and is
about 35 miles long from north to south, and 30 from east,
to west. The coasts are in general flat and sandy, and the
country is open, with a gently undulating sinface. There
are several lakes and rivers in the island, but none of ihem
are navigable. This province is more fertile, and produces
more grain than any other in Denmark. The soil is less
argillaceous than tliat of Zealand, but is more susceptible
of all kinds of culture. Its principal productions are bar-
ley, oats, rye, and pease ; and about 10,000 barrels of corn
are exported amuially to Norway and Sweden. Furien is
almost the only place in Denmark where bees are reared
with success. Much wax, and honey of a superior cjuality,
is produced, and mead is made in great quantities.

The orchards of Funcn supply the kingdom with fruit.
There is very little wood in the island, and the inhabitants
make use principally of turf for fuel. Many of the Da-
nish nobility liave country seats in the island. Odensee,
which is the capital of the island, communicates with the
sea by a river, the navigation of which is facilitated by a
canal. There are about 33 small vessels belonging to the
town, but the commerce of the island occupies about 200
or 300. The principal trade of Odensee consists in the
exportation of grain and skins. See Catteau de Calleville's
Tableau de la Mer Balticjuc, torn. ii. p. 324 ; and Coxe's
Travels, vol. v. p. 233. (w)

FUNERAL. The disposal of the dead has chiefly been
accomplished by inhumation and cremation, tlie lifeless
body being for ever removed from the sight of the survi-
vors. Some nations, however, unwilling to part with it, or
actuated by certain religious principles, liave preserved it
entire; and men have been able to contemplate their fore-
fathers, who existed many generations previous to them-
selves.

The more rude and uncivilized tribes do not possess the
same facilities of disposing of their dead lliat are possess-
ed by cultivated nations. In high and frozen latitudes,
they arc compelled to abandon them on the snow, wliich
throughout the year is impenetrable, as towards the Lake
of Athapuscow, and among the Chipawayan Indians ; or
they covei' them with branches in the woods where they
expire. The ancient Colchians, Herodotus affirms, did not
bury their dead, but susp'^nded them on trees; a custom
witnessed among the Illinois and Aleutian islanders. And
the Tungoose, a Siberian tribe, having dressed the body in
its best apparel, inclosed it in a strong coflin, which is "sus-
pended between two trees, while the arms or implements
of the deceased are buried under it. Others, as the Par-
sees, or Gabres of Persia and Bombay, are accustomed to
expose tlic bodies of their deceased in an open edifice,
where they are devoured by birds of prey ; and in Tliibet
it is usual to deposit them in walled areas, inaccessible
alike to wild beasts from below, and the fowls of the air
from above. The Parsecs, who constitute a large propor-
tion of the population of Bombay, deposit their dead in a
hollow tower of large diameter, mostly built up within, and
having a sirjk or well in the centre. \Vhen the vultures,
which always hover around, have cleaned the bones of
their flesh, they are precipitated into the well, wluch has
subterraneous communications. Those of the inhabitants
of Thibet who are unwilling to consign their relatives to
the ordinary cemeteries, cut their bodies into quarters, and
carry them up to the hills, wiiere they may be devoured by
birds: but inhumation never takes place. Amidst all these
customs, however, few examples occur, in which the dead
are committed to the waters: nay, it is not known to be

l>ractised by 'the rudest modern tribes, to whom llic dispo-
sal of them otherwise must always prove difHciiIt and
laborious.

Inhumations arc generally such that the deceased may
lie upon his back, or sometimes rest on one side ; and the
remains of Christians may frequently be recognized in the
preceding position, from the arms being crossed on the
breast. But the ancient Nasomenes, according to Hero-
dotus, were so averse to this mode of inhumation, that
they not only interred the body in a sitting posture, as is
done by the modern natives of Hudson's Bay, but prevent-
ed an expiring person from thus breathing his last. Some,
though not many, inter their dead standing.

Inhumation has been practised alike by savage and civi-
lized nalrions : either simply in the ground, or in subterra-
neous structures ; in the vicinity, or at a distance from the
dwelling of the deceased, or the habitations of the living.
Near Sierra Leone, in Africa, children are frcciuenlly bu-
ried in the houses of their parents; and the Soosoos, an
African tribe, often inter the dead in the streets of their
villages ; but most commonly the place of sepulture is at
some distance. The Jews buried their dead ; and the same
was clonrt by the Greeks and Romans their contemporaries,
who practised superstitious ceremonies on the occasion.
So intimate a resemblance was observed by the two latter,
the one of which derived the greater part of their customs
from the other, that the same illustrations may explain the
funerals of both. The Romans, however, improved seve-
ral of those known among the Greeks ; and from the
greater number of historians which have been preserved,
we are better acquainted with them. When a person ex-
pired, his body was washed with warm water, anointed with
aromatic substances, or embalmed ; and each of the mem-
bers had a particular unguent. It was shrouded in fine
linen, which was white with the Greeks, and black with
the Romans; or the latter employed a common white toga.
If the deceased was a distinguished person, he was clothed
in his costume of ceremony, kept seven days during the
necessary preparations for the funeral, and exposed on a
state couch in the vestibule of the house, with his feet
towards the door, at w hich were placed branches of the
cypress or pine, according to his rank. In this we are
able to trace the origin of the mutes at modern funerals,
stationed at the door, with black plumes mounted on poles.
A guard was always placed beside the body, to prevent the
commission of any theft ; but if it was that of a person of
the first consequence, there were only young boys to drive
away the flies. The seven days being elapsed, a herald
inibiicly announced that the time of the funeral had arriv-
ed, and invited the attendance of all those who chose to as-
sist. None however, except the friends or relatives of pri-
vate individuals, did so; but public officers, or the people
at large, attended, if the deceased had rendered services
to the state. The body, according to a law ascribed to So-
lon, was carried out by the Greeks before sunrise, which
was particularly adhered to in the obsequies of the young,
in order that the luminary of day might not throw his light
on such a melancholy spectacle as their untimely end.
The deceased reposed on a bier, ornamented in proportion
to his rank, crowned with a wreath of flowers, and having
his face exposed, unless when it had been distorted in
death. The custom of crowning with flowers, however,
was not peculiar to the Romans. Several nations have
been profuse in the use of them, and have also employed
many varieties. Among the earlier Christians, it was cus-
tomiry to carry evergreens before the deceased to liis
grave: and even so late as the 17th century, cypress gar-
lands were in great estimation at the funerals of the higher
ranks, and rosemary and bay at those cf the lower. Die-

502

FUNERAL,

nysius Halicarnassus relates, that at the death of the daugh-
ter of Virginius, the wornpii and virgins left their houses,
deploring her fate, and some threw flowers and garlands
on her couch. A parade and procession followed, of torch-
bearers, musicians, and the attendant relatives; and among
the Romans there was a mimic, whose province it was to
wear the same habit, and represent the same manners as
the deceased. His own bust, along with the bust of his
relations, was carried on an elevated platform, and his
spoils in war or insignia of honour were likewise exhibi-
ted. Busts, however, were not borne before persons of low
origin, nor before those who had been condimned for any
crime, though they had been invested with dignities. Next
followed hired mourners, women whose employment was
to lament the deceased, and who lavishly intermingled his
praises with their waitings. His friends and relatives, all
clothed in black, joined in the procession ; and also his sons
with their heads veiled from public view, and bis daughters
bareheaded, with dishevelled hair and barefooted, attired in
ivhite. Thus the body was conveyed to the place of sepul-
ture, or to the funeral pile, for inhumation and cremation
■were equally practised both by the Greeks and Romans:
only the latter, being a much more expensive ceremony,
was particularly reserved for wealthier persons. The origi-
nal spot of interment was probably not far from their usual
dwelling; but afterwards the Greeks selected one at a dis-
tance, which is invariably done by tribes removing from
their primitive state. Plato says, the bodies of persons
deceased should be conveyed to situations useless for
other purposes, " because the natural fertility of the earth
is not to be impaired either by the dead or the living."
But they were careful always to lay the head towards the
east, while other nations are indiflerent about the position ;
and the Christians uniformly lay it to the west. Thus in
the accidental discovery of cemeteries in Britain, of which
no memorial remains, we can ascertain whether they have
been used anterior to the introduction of Christianity, by
the head lying to the west or otherwise. The laws of the
twelve tables prohibited interment within the city of Rome;
and therefore cemeteries were prepared in the fields, or
near the high-ways, and often consisted of brick or stone
buildings, with a number of niches, whence they were call-
ed Coliimbariu7n. Many minor ceremonies took place with
these two nations, such as inhaling the dying breath of the
deceased, as if to receive his soul ; the nearest relation
first closing and again opening his eyes, and putting a coin
in his mouth, to pay the freight to Charon across the Sty-
gian ferry. These customs are now universally abrogated,
from Greece being occupied by Mahometans and Chris-
tians, who practise very different ceremonies ; and from
the ^oman territories being inhabited by Roman Catholics
only.

A greater portion of the surface of the globe is proba-
bly possessed by those who profess the religion of Maho-
met, than by those who entertain any other tenets. Their
funerals are conducted with much solemnity by their
priests or Imams, and are attended by the friends and re-
lations of the deceased ; but, in general, the Ijody of males
is accompanied by males only, and those of females by
their own sex. The extinction of life is followed by im-
mediate preparations for interment ; and this proceeds
from an idea, that if the bliss v hich awaits the true be-
liever is merited by the deceased, not an instant should be
lost in conveying him to the cemetery; should it be other-
wise, it is incumbent on every good Mussulman to dis-
charge himself as speedily as possible from the service of
the wicked. This precipitation, though not common, oc-
curs among other nations : in some, it originates from the
necessity of immediate interment in hot climates ; in others,

it is an established custom, which cannot be traced to any
certain source ; but it is so great, as to admit of very little
doubt, that many persons are committed to the earth before
life has fled. A few hours after dissolution, the body, hav-
ing been previously washed with milk and water, or with
water only, is placed on a bier, with the face uncovered,
and carried with hasty steps to tne grave. As Mahomet
has declared that whoever shall carry a dead body forty
paces towards the place of sepulture will thereby expiate
a deadly sin, it is usual for all ranks to tender their assis-
tance on meeting a funeral procession. Being predestina-
rians in the strictest acceptation, no dread of danger or in-
jury deters them from it; whence a devout Mahonietan,
even while the plague rages, offers his assistance, and sup-
ports, witliout apprehension, the body of one wno has died
of it. The interment being finished, and the deceased
placed on his right side, and turned towards Mecca, the
Imam repeats a prayer, and calls him three times by his
name, mentioning also that of his mother, but without the
smallest allusion to the name of his father; and when in
ignorance of her name, it is not unusual to substitute that
ol the Virgin Mary. This part of the ceremony bears
some analogy to the Concla/naUn of the Romans, among
whom it was customary to call the deceased with a loud
voice, after he was laid on the funeral pile, or when he was
a person of distinguished rank, to use horns or trumpets.
It has likewise been common with many nations of the
world, and is so with the lower classes of people in Ire-
land, to call loudly on the deceased, to interrogate him why
he died, and whether he had not every thing in this world
that he could desire. With the Romans it has been sup-
posed, but without any rational foundation, as designed to
ascertain whether or not the body is inanimate ; because
instances are given of persons rising from the pile prepar-
ed to burn them, and returning in health to their homes.
The name of the deceased Mahometan and his mother be-
ing pronounced, another ejaculation or prayer follows, and
the party returns home. No weeping, or symptoms of dis-
tress, are seen at a funeral ; all profess unlimited resigna-
tion to the will of Providence : Whatever happens is
deemed a wise dispensation, which it would be impious to
lament. Their cemeteries are of considerable extent, and
the graves shallow and separate ; for the modern European
custom of interring numbers in the same grave is un-
known. However, it has not been universally so in Eu-
rope ; for the canons of the council of Auxerre declare,
?ion licet mortuujn sit/ier jnortuum micii. The grave is co-
vered with a slab, which, instead of being plain and flat, is
perforated in the centre, so as to admit of cypress trees
being planted immediately over the body. A hollow square
stone is occasionally preferred, which, being filled with
earth, admits of the cultivation of trees or herbs within it.
Relations frequently visit the cemeteries, and pray on the
graves of the deceased ; and it is peculiarly interesting to
see widows and orphans occupied in this pious vocation.

An opposite custom is presented in many respects by
the Chinese and Tunquinese, whose numbers far exceed
the inhabitants of all the European states combined, and
vie with the numbers which are under the sway of the
Mussulman doctrines; while they have subsisted under a
regular form of administration, and preserved the same
ceremonies for the lapse of thoutiands of years. With
the latter, instead of hasty and precipitate interment, the
body of a person deceased is preserved a long time, some-
times two years, in order to admit of sufficient prepara-
tion for his obsequies. A splendid funeral is the utmost
object of ambition. Individuals are content to labour
their whole lives, and subsist in penury, that the funeral
pomp at their death may be the greater. When this is

FUNERAL.

503

conducted with uncommon mai^nificcnce, it forms an
epoch in the history of a family, of which the icmembraiicc
is transmitted to successive generations ; and nothing can
be a more serious reproach tiian an heir liaving omitted
this essential means of doing honour to his predecessor.
Unlike the customs of the western world, a Chinese or
a Tunquinese prepares his cotTin a long time before he ex-
pects that, in the course of nature, it shall receive his
earthly remains. Its splendour is the primary considera-
tion, and the wealthy frequently expend a great portion of
their property in obtaining one made of some valuable
wood, adorned with sculpture or painting, and decorated
with inscriptions. It is not unusual for the children of a
family, by contributing among themselves, to get an ele-
gant coffin privately made for their father, or for any other
near relation, and endeavour to give him an agreeable sur-
prise, by conveying it unexpectedly into his apartment :
this mode of presenting a coffin to a parent is a filial act of
piety. Its place is in the banqueting chamber, as an orna-
mental piece of furniture, to be admired by the guests of
the owner, who do not fail to compliment him on its beauty.
But when the period for its occupation does arrive, and a
person breathes his last, the bystanders cover his face with
a handkerchief, to which they believe his soul attaches it-
self, and it is carefully preserved. His body is put into the
coffin, which still retains its original place, and along with
it clothes, goods, and rice, to serve for his use in the next
world. Men are clothed in seven of theii best habits ;
women in nine. The coffin is not nailed, but joined with a
very adhesive pitch, and then entirely varnished over, which
precludes the escape of any emanations. Meantime regu-
lar visits are paid to the deceased, and whatever be the
rank of the visitor, on this occason, he always holds himself
inferior, at no time approaching the coffin without four
prostrations. At every meal of the family, different kinds
of food are offered to the deceased, of which he is entreated
to partake ; and the principal person of the house, in pro-
nouncing an eulogium on his character, deplores his loss to
the survivors, and offers unlimited rewards to heaven for
his restoration. The splendour of the funeral is all this
time in contemplation. Should the tangible funds of the
deceased be inadequate, his lands are sold ; and should
something still be wanting, his children dispose of their
own property, or the friends and relations contribute ; and
as a record of the greater donations is kept, he who is thus
liberal is entitled to singular honour. Particular solemnity
is observed in transporting the body to the place of.sepul-
ture : the eldest son, or nearest relative, precedes it, hav-
ing his head wrapped in afaggot of straw, and throwing him-
self on the ground at repeated intervals, as if to interrupt
its passage ; and the procession is slow and long, and inter-
rupted l)y many pauses. Much importance is attached to
the place of sepulture ; priests are consulted on the sub-
ject, and 40 or 50 times greater price is paid for what is
judged the most suitable, than for any other spot of land.
It is such as is supposed to be most satisfactory to the
dead, and favourable to the living. CInildren who experi-
enced misfortune, after the death of their father, have been
known to dig up the body, and deposit it in a preferable
place, in order to avert the influence of destiny. One sin-
gular ceremony, in Tunquinese funerals, consists in carry-
ing a vase full of water on the coffin, which, if accomplish-
ed without spilling a drop, is judged a happy presage, and
the bearers are liberally recompensed.

The Jews still preserve some of the ancient ceremonies
practised in the burial of their dead, when they were mas-
ters of Jerusalem. The thumb is bent into a particular po-
sition : the bearers of the corpse wear no sandals, lest the
breaking of a latchet should interrupt the procession ; they

rend their garments ; and throw dust on their heads. But
they had a pomp and solemnity equal to those of the other
nations, wliicli they gradually rose to rival or excel. Jose-
phus relates, that the bier ol Herod consisted of gold, orna-
mented with precious stones, and a purple couch, whereon
the body lay, covered with purple ; there was a crown of
gold on the head, and a sceptre in the right hand ; the army-
marched in solemn procession, and five hundred of the
royal domestics and freedmen followed, bearing sweet spices
in their hands.

Inhumation is practised universally in Europe, through-
out Africa, and in most parts of America ; while crema-
■^tion, though an unusual custom, is a common mode of dis-
posing of the dead in Asia. This has prevailed from re-
mote antiquity, for many years antecedent to the Christian
era, and, as well as another ceremony closely connected
with it, and to which we shall soon advert, has undergone
little alteration. The ancient Greeks and Romans burnt
their more illustrious dead. The body, clothed in its best
attire, was deposited on a pile, formed of combustible wood,
with a piece of money in the mouth, to pay, as before ob-
served, the freight to Charon. The whole pile was envi-
roned by boughs of the cypress tree, liquids fit to dissemi-
nate an agreeable odour were poured on it, and the near-
est relative applied a lighted torch. The arms of the de-
ceased, and other things most regarded by him, were thrown
into the pile and consunaed ; and to do him honour, the
byestanders contributed their offerings in the same manner.
But in order to preserve some remains of the body, it was
enclosed in an envelope of incombustible cloth, and the
ashes being collected along with the fragments of bones
unconsumed, were washed with milk and wine, placed in
an urn, and along with lachrymatories, containing the tears
shed for the deceased, consigned to a tomb, wherein were
frequently deposited sepulchral lamps. No custom has
been more widely practised than that of burning the dead ;
we find it among the most polished nations of antiquity, and
among the rudest modern tribes. It was practised in Bri-
tain, in Gaul, and many other countries, whose names are
transmitted to us by history. At this day, the Tshutchi, a na-
tion inhabiting a rigorous climate at the north-eastern extre-
mity of the Asiatic continent, burn their dead, and the spot
where it is done is marked by stones laid in such order, as
to bear some resemblance to the figure of the human body.
A large stone is placed at the head, which is anointed with
marrow and fat, and a small pile of deer's horns, heaped up
at a little distance, which receives a yearly accession when
the place is visited by the relatives of the deceased, who
recapitulate his feats and qualities. In the island of Japan,
and in the kingdoms of Ava, Siam, Thibet, and throughout
many parts of Hindostan, cremation is not uncommon. But
in the former countries it is chiefly the bodies of the weal-
thy which are treated with that distinction. What proves
an affliction to other nations of the earth, is the source of
rejoicing among the natives of Ava ; the dead seem to ex-
cite no regret, or, to use the words of a modern author,
much ingenuity is shewn in the means of abating it. At the
same time there is great semblance of grief, for the widow
and her friends repair to the spot where the pile was erect-
ed, and with loud lamentations collect the half calcined
bones and ashes ; some days being previously occupied in
dancing and festivity. The Siamese display particular fu-
neral pomp in the cremation of their dead. The intestines
are previously removed ; perfumes and wax lights are
burnt around it, and it is carried forth on a gilt wooden bier.
All the family and friends dressed in white, attend the pile,
which is kindled amidst the sound of instruments. But the
honour of cremation is not conferred on every one indiscri-
minately ; those who have suffered a capital sentence of the

504

FUNJUIAL.

law; all wI)o have been cxpflsc;) to a vioIlmU dcaili ; and
\vom<;n who have died in pailurilion, arc consigned to llm
earth, which is regarded as disrespectful to the ilcad. Tlic
pile is composed of precious noods, generally erected near
some temple ; and llie ceremony is enibeiUshed by fetes and
theatrical exhibitions. But \\c shall afterwards speak of
the remarkable ceremonies adopted on such occasions in
further detail.

The Chinese do not always consign the cofTm to the
earth, nor do all tliosc nations, which remove the body
from view without destroying it, practise interment. The
poor of Aracan, who have none to pay the expense of a
funeral, are carried to the side of a river, to be washed
away as it flows. Some tribes in the neighbourhood of
Cifl'raria, sew up the corpse in skins, and carry it to a dis-
tant thicket. The Araucanians, on losing a relation, seat
themselves on the grotnid arotmd him, and weep during a
long time. The body, clotiied in its best attire, is then e.K-
posed on a high bier, remaining there during the night,
vhich is either em.ployed in lamenting with those who
coine to ofler consolation, or in eating with them; and
this meeting is called cnricahuin, or the black enter-
tainment, from the symbol of mourning. One, two, or
three days after death, the body is carried in procession to
the cemetery, surrounded by women bewailing the deceas-
ed, and accompanied l>y another woman, who strews ashes
on the road. It is now laid on the ground along with wea-
pons if it is the body of a man, or feminine implements if
it is the body of a woman, and witli a quantity of provi-
sions for subsistence during the passage to the other world.
The spectators take Iciive of the deceased, and wishing
liim a prosperous journey, raise a pyraiTiid of earth or
stones above the body, on which a quantity of the country
beverage is poured. Perhaps the Highland cairns, the
carnedds of Wales, and tumuli of other regions, have all
a similar origin, and may have originated without actual
inhumation.

Several of the North American tribes testify a very great
solicitude concerning the bones of the deceased. Nor is
this confined to the inhabitants of the North ; for the same
is seen among those towards the opposite extremity of the
continent; and the historians who consider the inhabitants
of America as descended from the Jews, think that they
fmd some analogy here. The Choktahs, or Chactaws, af-
ter three months previous inhumation, dig up the body,
and place it on a scaffold opposite to the hut of the deceas-
ed, around which the family and friends convene, jointly
participating in great lamentation, and a subsequent feast.
A person, whose particular office it is, despoils the bones
of their flesh, which are then carefully collected, and being
placed in their natural order in a small chest, are carried
in solemn procession to the bone house. This resembles
a shade elevated on posts, open at both ends, and those of
the different tribes are kept separate. It is even judged
impious to mix the bones of strangers with these of their
own kindred; and therefore, if necessity compels them to
deposit the bones of different tribes under one loof, they
are still kept separate. Sometimes the skull, on these oc-
casions, is painted red, and if the deceased has been a man
of note, the chest is taken down a year after, when the
friends weep once more over the bones, and the red colour
being refreshed, the whole is consigned to everlasting ob-
livion. Should a party of Indians, engaged in war or hunt-
ing, lose any of its number, the body is elevated on a scaf-
fold, and covered with logs of wood. The survivors re-
turn when the flesh is supposed to be consumed, and the
Bones thoroughly dried, and carry them home to be so-
lemnly deposited. An author well acquainted with their
customs, observed " some Indians retur.fied with the bones

of nine of their people, who had liccii two moi.tiis before
killed by the enemy. They were tied in white deer skins
scp.rately, and when carried by the door of one of the
houses of their family, they were laid down opposite to il,
till the female rcjatior.s convened, with flowing hair, and
wept over them half an hour, and then buried liiem with
their usual solemnities." The Aljipons, a nomadic Soutli
American race, immediately strip the flesh from the bones
of those killed in a foreign country, and carry them to their
proper cemeteries. Dobrizhofl'er, a (ierman missionary,
relates, that he saw seven skeletons thus brought to a vil-
lage, and kept nine days in a hut previous to interment.
The Pampas and Moluclies, otlicr South American tribes,
and also the Scrranos, cntiiist some of their most distlnc
guish.ed women with removing the flesh from the bones of
tlic dead, and burying tliem until the reniaining fibres de-
cay, or with bleaching them in the sun. While the work
of dissection is going on, the Indians walk round the tent
covered witli long mantles, their faces blackened, singing a
mournful tune, and striking the ground with their spears,
to drive away the evil spirits. This arixiety is shewn by
different nations : the beating on kettles, and most likely the
ringing of bells has originally had the same object. The
bones being prepared, are packed up in a hide, and con-
veyed on a favourite horse of the deceased to the cemetery
of the family, sometimes 300 miles distaiit. Being disposed
in their natural order and tied together, they are clothed
with the deceased's best attire, and ornamented with bead"
and feathers, which are cleaned once a year. Difl'erent
members of the family arc thus placed in a sitting posture
in a pit or excavation, with their weapons and other im-
plements, and the pit is covered over. But it is farther
the office of some matron of the tribe to open the pit every
year, and to clean and clothe the skeletons. The carcasses
of horses killed on the occasion, that the deceased may
ride on them in the next world, are placed around the
mouth of the pit, supported on stakes.

Among the Gabres or Parsees of India, the body is left
exposetl on the ground, and a dog enticed to take some
certain morsel out of the mouth, which, on being accom-
plished, is deemed a favourable omen. But it is otherwise
should the animal refuse; and dming this period of expec-
tation, prayers are pronounced by the priests. The body-
is then consigned to the sepulchre, which is described to
be "an object of the most dreadful and of the most horrid
prospect in the world, and nu:ch more frightful than a field
of slaughtered men." Bodies are seen in all different
stages of decay, either undergoing the decomposing pro-
cess of nature, or blee-tiing and mangled by the vultures
surrounding the walls, some of them so gorged with hu-
man flesh as almost to be incapable of taking flight. A
day or two after being deposited there, the relatives are
said to examine which eye has been lost, and sh.ould it
prove to be the rigl;t one, a period of unexampled felicity
is anticipated. See G^dhes.

It has been the general practice of most nations of the
globe, to burn or inter along with persons dccc'^aed those
thi'ngs that were most useful or interesting to them in life.
The ruder tribes, as )vell as the more civilized, have en-
tertained an infiiiity of vague and contradictory sentiments
regarding the state of the soul after death ; some believing
that it hovers long around the body; that it is immediate-
ly transferred to regions of bliss; that it has a long jour-
ncy to accomplish; or that it subsists in an intermediate
condition, uncertain of reward or punishment, until all man-
kind shall be judged. Ancient nations often buried trea-
sures of great value in the tomb of royal or opulent per-
sons. Thirteen hundred years after the decease of David,
we read that a high priest of Jerusalem took three thoti-

FUNERAL.

505

sand talents from his sepulchre, to bribe Antiochus to raise
the siege of the city. Now there are sometimes found in
the tombs of the ancient Tartars, whole sheets and plates
of solid i;old. The Jukali of Siberia inclose provisions in
the coflin, expressly " that the deceased may not hunger
on the road to the dwelling of souls," His favourite rid-
ing horse is accoutred, and led to the place of interment
along with a mare. Two holes are dug under a tree, in
one of which the deceased is deposited, and his horse be-
ing killed is buried in the other, while the mare is also
killed, but is devoured by the guests. The arms, domes-
tic implements, and feminine articles of the deceased, have
been either interred in the same grave, or consumed on
the same funeral pile. But by a more barbarous custom,
as if the destruction of inanimate substances, or the pre-
servation of them for the use of the deceased, were alike
inadequate, the sacrifice of liviiig animals, as we have seen,
and even of human beings, has been in general practised.
Slaves and captives were murdered at the foot of the fu-
neral pile of the ancients, and consumed by the same fire
that reduced the body to ashes ; and wives were merciless-
ly put to death, that tbey might accompany the souls of
their husbands to those regions which were supposed rea-
dy to receive them. But so remarkable and unnatural
a ceremony in funeral rites demands further illustration,
especially as, instead of expiring with the name of the
Greeks and Romans, we find it still existing at the present
day.

Mankind, in the early stages of society, have inferred,
that a future state bears an intimate resemblance to their
condition in the world they inhabit ; that they have the
same necessities, and the same propensities and enjoy-
ments. Hence the h.orse is killed, and the slave or tlie
wife murdered, that their souls, transferred along with his
own, might contribute to the use of the owner. By cer-
tain refinements, however, which can only be discovered in
the sanguinary disposition of man, a sacrifice was deemed
requisite, to appease the manes of the dead ; and in this
mixed character, the shedding of the blood of man and ani-
mals must be viewed. As the sentiments of a nation chang-
ed, the actual immolation ceased ; but, as happened among
the Romans, the combats of gladiators at a funeral pile
■were substituted, wherein one or both commonly perish-
ed. And with the Chinese there is a figurative sacrifice,
in the images of men and animals consumed at the time of
the obsequies. Yet it is not long since this was introduced ;
for an emperor of that nation, whose reign terminated in
1661, ordered 30 persons to be sacrificed to the manes of
a favourite queen, a"nd directed that h r body, deposited in
a valuable coffin, should be burnt, along with a prodigious
quantity of precious materials. Likewise, when an em-
press of the same ppople died in 1718, four youthful fe-
males, her attendants, proposed to sacrifice themselves on
her tomb, which the emperor her son, a wise and politic
prince, humanely prohibited. Sometimes the slaves and
friends of the ancients voluntarily sacrificed themselves on
the pile of the deceased; and those wives, who were not
dragged to be murdered at the tomb, or by a horrible so-
leninit\ buried alive in the same grave, sometimes perish-
ed by voluntary immolation. It is recorded in history, that
one of the eariier kings of Sweden having, in the heat of
battle, vowed to sacrifice himself in ten years to the gods,
should they then propitiate his cause ; his queen acciden-
tally discovered the fact, and, to anticipate the necessity of
being buried alive when the event should happen, separat-
ed from him during life. The northern nations believed
in a kind of elysium, or ethereal palace, where their re-
surrection would take place amidst their usual earthly en-
joyments ; and slaves conceived, that admission would be

Vol. IX. Part II.

denied them, unless they accompanied their masters,
whence a contem[)t of death, unknown lo posterity, was in-
spired. Among the ancient Tiiracians, it appears that the
favourite wife was put to death by her nearest relations at
the tomb of her deceased husband, and interred along with
him ; and if he had more than one wife, a contest arose for
permission to od'er this token of afiection. Diodorns the
Sicilian relates, that about eight years subsequent to the
death of Alexander the Great, the two wives of an Indian
commander, who had lalien in battle, contended for the ho-
nour of being burnt along with his body ; a singular cus-
tom introduced, as Strabo affirms, from the women of those
climes being wont to become enamoured of young men,
and poison their husbands. The elder being pregnant at
the time, preference was given to the younger, and pre-
parations were made for the ceremony. The widow ap-
proached the pile, and divesting herself of her numerous
personal ornaments, as rings, necklaces, and jewels among
her hair, distributed them as tokens of remembrance to her
friends and attendants. Having taken leave of all, she was
placed by her own brother on the pile, while the army of
Eumenes, then contending for the Macedonian empire,
marched three times solemnly around it with their arms.
Meantime, witliout betraying the smallest apprehension at
the crackling of the flames, she turned towards her hus-
band's body, and heroically closed her earthly career, to the
great admiration of the spectators.

It is remarkable that now, after the lapse of thousands
of years, the most intimate coincidence is witnessed in this
voluntary sacrifice of the Hindoo females on the funeral
pile of their departed husbands ; we say voluntary, but it
can scarcely be called so, for although there is no compul-
sion, it is not creditable to evade it. When a Hindoo ex-
pires, it is of no importance whether a person of rank or
otherwise, his widow, if belonging to that particular cast,
enforcing it, declares her resolution to perish ; it not only
entails credit on her memory, but aids her husband in ob-
taining celestial privileges. Attended by her friends and
relatives, she approaches a consecrated spot, where a pile
is erecteil by Bramins, generally near a river, wherein she
sometimes bathes. No apprehension is ever betrayed by
the youngest; she walks with a firm step thrice around the
pile ; mounts it unassisted, and sits down by the body of
the deceased ; then taking off her personal ornaments, she
distributes them, with great composure and precision, to
her female attendants, and gently recluiing towards her
husband, draws a cloth over her face. Meantime the Bra-
mins perform certain ceremonies, and continue building up
the pile several feet above both the bodies : they supply
combustible substances; and pouring oil upon it, the whole
is kindled by the nearest relation, and blazes forth amidst
the shouts of the multitude. There are examples of the
torch being applied by the children of the widow while al-
most in infancy, and it is thus that by common consent of
nations the last offices are committed to the nearest rela-
tive. Although this horrible and barbarous custom is es-
tablished among the Hindoos, it is unquestionably on the
decline, and, in those places to which Europeans have com-
mon access, it is now of rare occurrence.

In other countries there are sanguinary scenes of an ana-
logous description, practised to appease the manes of the
dead. Formerly, in North America, a number of wives
were strangled at once, with a single cord, on the decease
of a husband. In Kodiak, an island on the north-west of
that continent, when a chief is interred, some of his most
confidential labourers are sacrificed and buried along with
him. In the kingdom of Assam, several wives of a rajah
or sovereign, a numbei of servants, and a quantity of oil and
provisions, were all wont to be enclosed in the pit which

506

FUNERAL.

received lub. boil), uixl cither insimiiiuieoubly destroyed, or
left to (lie a liiigerinij deulh. In tlio iskind of Niikahivva,
if a pii«bl<lieb, tluec luunrin victiiiis niust immediately be
offered up for the repose of liis soul ; and those whose pro-
vince It is to procure them, lie in ambush where the un-
suspecting naiives resort in their canoes ior footi, and arc
Soon enal)!c(l to fulfil their bloody mission. Yet all this is
inconsiderable when compared with what are called the
Cuseoms, an annual ceremony in Dahomy, an African state.
There the king " waters the graves of his ancestors," with
the blood of victims in thousands; pyramids are absolute-
ly constructed of human heads. Most of those unhappy
beings are prisoners of war, who are mercilessly saciificed.
Oil the decease of the king liimself, his women immediate-
Jy begin to break a-nd destroy every thing around them, and
then to massacre each other, which continues until a suc-
cessor is named, who takes possession of tlie palace and
interrupts the carnage. On an occasion of this kind in
17r4, 285 women perished, besides six said to have been
buried alive with the king; and more recently, in the year
1789, when a king died, the number amounted to no less
than 595. There is still another waste of human life at the
funeral of some of the African and Australasian tribes. If
a mother dies while suckling her child, it is buried alive
in the same grave along with her. This, however, is not
to be viewed in the light of a sacrifice; it originates in a
diflerent pi'inciple, which seems to be, that among savages
the care of then- own children is all that they can accom-
plish ; the infant, therefore, is doomed to destruction, from
the belief that no female can be found willing to preserve
it. Modern example therefore proves, that we may safe-
ly credit what is recorded of the immolation of human vic-
tims at the tomb or the funeral pile of the ancients.

It seldom happens that the assistants at a funeral sim-
ply dispose of the dead with the ceremonies now alluded
to, as a greater or lesser festival almost always follows.
This has already been partly illustrated. In our own coun-
try, we know that the obsequies of those, even in the most
humble station, are always attended with the distribution
of bread and wine, or less costly liquors. In some places
it is preparatory to a more ample feast, in such profusion,
as to prove tif serious inconvenience to the successor; it
lasts whble days, and, as ajnong savage nations, resembles
a rejoicing for the liberation of the deceased from his earth-
ly tenement, more than a lamentation for his loss. Mirth
and merriment prevail; and in the Highlands of Scotland
it has been carried to such an extent, that when given be-
iore the iuneral, where the successor always presides, ex-
amples have occurred of the party setting out for the p'ace
of interment, and leaving tlie corpse behind them. This
is identically the Sitici;rnum o( Ihc Romans, at which cer-
tain viands were served up, or distributed to the peoide.
In the v;orth of England, the eniertaifnnent is called arvU,
and the bread employed arvil bread — names of uncertain
etymology; and, in Scotlar>d, the subsequent carousals arc
said to be driijking the dirge of the deceased. The orit;in of
these ceremonies is doubtful. A least, wherein much lavish-
ness and extravagance are displayed, is given by the Wash-
ington islanders, on washing and laying out the body; and
twelve montiis afterwards another, ecjually profuse, is given
to thank the gods for having permitted the deceased to ar-
rive safe in the other world. These throw consideiable
light on the puipose of the entertainment, which is per-
haps jointly for oblation and commemoration. It is repeat-
ed successively for years, by various nations; by the Tun-
quinese it is considered disgraceful to be sparing; and the
South Americans, in pouring some of their first made
beverage yearly on the graves, drink to the good health
of the dead. Tlie inhabitants of Thibet have an annual

festival in hoiiour of thd dead, which takes place at night,
and then innumerable lamps are lighted up, amidst the
sound of mournful music. We shall abstain from speak-
ing of the festival of souls, said to have been practised by
certain American tribes, from being ignorant whether it is
not entirely discontinired ; but at intervals of ten or twelve
years, the dead were dug up, and carried on the backs of
their relatives to their huts, wher-e gi-eat entertaiimienls
ensued ; after wliich they were, in like manner, replaced.
The Greeks and Homans pei-formed the obsequies of the
great with uncommorr splendour : Races, games, and thea-
trical entertainments, wer-c all exhibited; and at present,
with some Eastern irations, whole fleets and armies are
put in action, for the greater pomp, on the funeral of an
emperor.

In many countries, independent of the natui-al lamenta-
tions by the relatives of one deceased, it has been customa-
ry to employ hir-ed mourners, whose shrieks and despair
might enhance the display of grief. In scripture, it is said,
" wailing shall be in all the streets : and they shall say in
all the highways, alas ! alas ! and they shall call the hus-
bandman to mourning, and such as are skilful in lamenta-
tion to wailing." At the modern funerals of the lower class-
es of Ireland, the womeir collecf, and utter hideous out-
cries, emphatically called the Hoolaloo, mixed with the
praises of the dead, and with the questions, " Why did he
die? Had he not a wife and family ? Had he not every thing
he could wish ? Why did he leave this world ?" and the
like: a savage custom, characteristic of a barbarous state
of society.

A funeral hymn has been prevalent, as well as the per-
formance of music, at the obsequies of persons deceased,
as also an eulogium or oration upon them. The funerals
of the Gr-eeks and Romans were attended by the sounding
of pipes, and sometimes of trumpets and horns; but the lyre,
beirrg consecrated to Apollo, was prohibited ; and a hymn,
song, or dirge, called A'V/r/a, was sung by girls or adults.
The singing of psalms at modern funei-als is part of these
customs preserved ; and a solemn requiem takes place
among Roman Catholics for the repose of the soul. Fre-
quently the most celebrated composers are entrusted with
the composition of this piece of music ; and it has been said
of Mozart, that the requiem he composed for a Gei-man
prince was first performed for himself. A musical solem-
nity sometimes attends the funeral of celebrated musicians,
as of Rameau in Paris in the year 1764; and there was a
commemoration of Handel in 1786, in AV'estminster Abbey,
27 years after his decease. The music composed or per-
formed on these occasions in more humble life, is called a
dirge or lament, as in the Highlands of Scotland ; and there
is yet known a lament composed and fjerformed by some
freebooter f r himself, while leading to the gallows. So-
lemn nrusic is an invariable concomitant of military fune-
rais ; that of our tiflrcers being attended by a firll band, and
that of a private- soldier by fifes and drums. But in march-
ing froi-n the place of interment, a lively air always succeeds
the mournful tune.

A nur-nber of minor ceremonies preceding interment are
in use in difFeient countries, and in diflerent districts of
the same country. Of this number ar-e ringing the passing
bell for a person expir-iug — wakes or watching with the
dead, often rendered a scene of the grossest debauchery
— placing a platter of salt on the corpse, or candles around
it, and the like. Sometimes it is the custom to have fune-
rals by day, sometimes by night. The colour of the fr-inges
of the pall, and the gloves worn by mourners in Britain,
denote that the deceased was unmarried, if white; and it
was lately the custom of some parts of England, for six
maidens to bear the pall of a young man, and six youths to

FUN

507

bear that of a young woman. In Wales, the p;ravesofihc
deceased arc adorned with flowers : The white rose always
decorates that of a virf^in : Those of pcrBons distinguished
by |)iety and benevolence are planted with red roses. The
road to the grave of unmairied persons is also strewed with
evergreens and sweet-scented (lowers. In Scotland, the
body is lowered into tht; grave by the nearest relatives; no
funeral service is performed, and but rarely a funeral ser-
mon on the subsequent Sabbath, in commemoration of the
virtues of the deceased. Suicides are denied tlie right of
interment in consecrated ground; and infants tlying before
baptism, are interred on its confines. Uut these rules are
not strictly enforced.

Commission of suicide has generally been viewed as a
criminal act t By the usages of Britain, the body should be
buried in the highway, and a stake driven through it; of
which recent examples are to be found. In the later periods
of the Jewish history, when despair prompted the misera-
ble objects of conquest to self-destruction, their leaders
endeavoured to avert their intentions, by representing the
ignomiu)* to which their bodies would be exposed, by the
privation of sepulture. The Fantees, a modern African
tribe, testify their abhorrence of the deed, by refusing to
pay the accustomed rites to the bodies of suicides.

A great variety of customs has been practised among
nations, in respect to the remembrance of the dead. By
some, the ashes have been scattered in the air, and all me-
morials of them consigned to oblivion. By the Abipons of
South America, every thing that may recal the image of a
person deceased is destroyed ; his cattle are killed, all his
implements burnt, and his hut is overthrown ; his wife and
family migrate elsewhere, and his name never is again re-
peated. The Knisteneaux of North America destroy all
that belong to him ; and the Chipewyans never employ
what has served for his use.

Mourning is a ceremonial also much diversified by the
custom of nations. In general, it is more rigid on the

widow of the deceased, than on liic rest of his relatives.
The 'i'lieodosian code adjudged a woman to be infamous
who uvarricd ten months or a year from the decease of her
husband. In Britain, it is rather understood that second
iiuptials should not take place within a year; arnl the pe-
riod of mourning extends to two. Tlie women (>{ some
North American tribes must live three or even four years
in a state of tvidowhood: antl in eastern countries, the eldest
son cannot marry during the time of mourning for a iiuren',
which is two years ; and he should all the while sleep alon.;-
with the rest on maitrasses, not in beds, and subsist on very
simple fare. Wearing particular colours, as white, black,
or purple, is emblematic of mourning in different countries;
and shaving the hair close is a particular mode of testifying
grief for one deceased. But sometimes only half the head
is shaved ; or the hair, if generally worn long, is simply
shortened. A more decided mark of sorrow consists in
severe lacerations of the persons of the survivors; their
faces are disfigured, they slash tlieii limbs with knives, or
sharp-pointed bones; and some, to shew a more indelible
testimony of affection, are successively deprived of a joint
of one of their fingers for every relation whom they lose.
See Herodotus, lib. iv. Strabo, lib. xv. Dionynius Halicarnas-
sus, lib. xi. Nicolaus Damascenus jipud Excerjita Valerii,
p. 520. Nicolaus Deluctu GrtEcorum. Kirchmannus De
funeribus Romanorum. Gutherius De jure Manium. Por-
cacchi Dei Funerall dell' Antichi. Moresinus Pafiatus sen
defiravat ce Religionis origo et Incremenlum. Ugolinus The-
saurus antiquUatuin sacrarum. Roman's N'atural History
of Florida, (c)

FUNFKIRCEN, or Five Churches, is the name of a
town i4i Hungary, situated in a fertile country between the
Drave and the Danube. It is principally celebrated for Its
university, which was founded by Louis I. and which was
at one time attended by about 2000 students. It was ruined,
however, by the capture of the place by the Turks. Popula-
tion about 12,000. East Long. 18° 9', North Lat. 46° 61'. (to)

FUNGI.

The most conspicuous of the plants to which we propose
to direct the attention of the reader in this article, are, in
general, termed by the English Mush-rooms or Toad-stools,
and by the Scots Paddock stools. By the Greeks tliey were
called MvKiilii; and they are now known to botanists under
the general appellation of Fungi, a term sufliciently ex-
pressive of their soft, spongy, coriaceous texture. They
constitute the first link of the gieat chain of vegetable life,
and serve to connect organised bodies with inorganic mat-
ter. In simplicity of form and structure, they differ wide-
ly from the other vegetable ti ibes, as they present neither
leaves nor flowers. Destined to spring up in the midst of cor-
luplion, and to draw their nourishment fiom putrefaction,
the fastidious observer turns from them with disgust; and the
true naturalist, while aware of their impoitance in the scale
of being, finding them too perishable in their nature to be
easily preserved in his cabinet, too capricious in their
growth to be cultivated in his garden, and too spoitive in
their forms to be successfully delineated with his pencil,
leaves them with regret to lot on the dinighill and to with-
er in the wood. Hence they are fancifully characterised by
Linnsus as A'omades, autumnales, barbari, denudati, fiutri-
di. voraces. Hijiora reduce nte fdantas hyematum, legunC,
relictas earum quisquilias sordesque.

The botanists of the first age, such as Theophr^stus,

Dioscorides, and Pliny, attributed the origin of mush-roonFis
to a certain viscosity arising from putrefying vegetables.
This notion very generally prevailed, until the immortal
Harvey unfolded his second grand discovery, omne animal
ex ovo. After this period, the germination of plants was
investigated with greater care, and many able botanists ap-
plied themselves to the elucidation of the obscure physio-
logy of the fungi. Clusius had long before maintained that
mushrooms spring from seeds; but it was reserved for
Boccone, Mentzel, and Tourncfort, to establish the truth
of the assertion. These eminent botanists were soon follow-
ed in the same track by Battarra, Micheli, Dillenius, Gle-
ditsch, Linnsus, and Iledwig ; and more recently by Biil-
liard and Persoon. It is now demonstrated that mushrooms
are as regularly organised vegetables as the phcnogamo<is
plants ; that they consist of fibres, vessels, and roots ; that
they have peculiar organs appropriated for the production
of the seeds ; and that without these seeds, no regeneration
can take place. In short, they spring up, flourish, and de-
cay, like other organised beings, after having transmitted
the principles of that vitality which they possess, to a new
race, exactly similar to themselves.

In order to obtiiin the seeds of mushrooms, it is in gene-
ral only necessary to place them m a fresii stale upon a
plate 01 glass, the surface of which wlil soo"n be copiously
3 S 2

508

FUNGI.

covered with tlienl. These seeds differ widely, like other
vegetables, as to size, shape, and colour, and still more as
to situation, insertion, and numl)er. Some can easily be
seen by the naked eye, while others can with difficulty be
detected by the highest magnifiers. These seeds are many
of them so light as to he dispei sed through ihe air, from
whence they are precipitated upon the ground and upon
plants by rain and snow. They seem in fact to be every
where. They are the constant attendants on decaying vege-
table and animal matter. Is an apple rotting in a damp
place, it is speedily covered with a mucor, sending forth its
slender diverging stems, and forming a glory round it ? Is
even the dead hoof of a horse exposed for any time to tiie
weather, it also will become covered with a fungus pecu-
liar to itself? These plants cover the damp walls of cellars
and caves, and seem formed to flourish in those places
which are unfit for the support of the more perfect vegeta-
bles. If we take these circumstances in connection with
the infinite multitude of animalculae, which seem erjually
profusely distributed, we will be irresistibly led to the con-
clusion, that the earth itself is a mere receptacle of germs,
each of which is ready to expand into vegetable or animal
forms, upon the occurrence of circumstances favourable
for its developernent. In the caily stages of the earth's ex-
istence, the germs of a few zoophytes only were unfolded,
afterwards those of the testaceous muUusca expanded, and
finally those of the mammiferous animals. In the course of
these changes, one generation succeeded another, but the
generation which followed was not the unaltered progeny of
the preceding. The zoophytes of the first period differ
from those of the last ; no living proofs of their existence
remain, their memorials only are to be found imbedded in
the solid rocks. It has happened to plants as to animals.
At first the germs of the Alices and the palms expanded
into leaves ; and finally the surface of the earth became co-
vered with the stameniferous vegetables. But the ferns of
the first period no longer exist; the circumstances which
favoured their growth are no more ; and their place is oc-
cupied by other ferns, the germs of which have expanded
under a new arrangement. In this survey, the mind is as-
tonished when it considers the infinite number of those
germs, prevented by the absence of favourable circum-
stances from ever expanding into rnaturity. Here the fol-
lowers of Harvey are bewildered ; and here the theory of
equivocal generation, which suggested itself to the inhabi-
tants of the banks of the Nile, and to which Aristotle gave
form and currency, seems calculated to soothe a reflecting
and philosophical mind. The history of the earth counte-
nances sucii a theory, and the phenomena of the mineral
kingdom yields it many powerful analogies, we had almost
said direct proofs. It does not consider the generation of
plants as the result of chance, any more than philosophers
do the production of lightning, of rain, or of snow. All
result from those laws which Omnipotence has imposed on
the material and intellectual world.

Those grains which are considered as the seeds of mush-
rooms, are by some supposed to be merely buds or germs.
This opinion, wliich was first proposed by Gaertner, and
since that lime maintained by many able botanists, is consi-
dered as supported by the analogy of the zoophytes. To
us this seems to be a mere dispute about words. It is
unwarrantable to expect a close resemblance between the
seeds of mushrooms and the seeds of stameniferous plants,
when they differ so widely in their general form. The seeds
of the former may, for aught we know, resemble the parent
plant in miniature ; and by the simple enlargement of their
parts, without the production of any new organs, arrive at
matu' ity. Hut experiments are still wanting to determine
this point.

If the examination of the mode of growth of the fungi be
involved in such obscurity, in what condition may we expect
to find their systematic classification? In the system of
Linnxus, they constitute the last order of the class Cryp-
togamia ; and were distributed by him into the following
genera: Agaricus, Boletus, Hydnum, Fliallus, Clathrus,
Ilelvella, Peziza, Clavaria, Lycoperdon, and Mucor. Since
his days, the species have been investigated with great care,
and many curious facts in their history have been ascer-
tained; yet still they have not obtained from botanists that
attention to wliich they seem entitled, on account of the
curious forms which they exhibit, the substances wbich enter
into their composition, and the economical uses to which they
have been applied. In this department of botany, no one
is deserving of higher praise than M. BuUiard. This author
has contributed, more perhaps than any other, to the illus-
tration of this intricate tribe, in his work entitled, Chamfiig-
nons de la France. This work, besides containing accurate
descriptions of the different fungi of France, exhibits at the
same time faithful delineations of their form. In the same
rank we must place the British Fungi of Mr Sowerby, the
most splendid botanical publication which has appeared, in
reference to our native plants. But here we must observe,
that although the figures are admirable, the accompanying
descriptions are extremely imperfect. This deficiency,
however, we trust will soon be amply supplied by the learn-
ed President of the Liniiaean Society, in the fourth volume
of that classical work, the Flora Britaitnica, which for the
space of ten years has been anxiously wished for by the
British botanist. But it is to Persoon that the world is in-
debted for the most judicious and systematic arrangement
of the Fungi. It was necessary to take a comprehensive
view of this tribe of plants as a whole, to overlook the old
genera, and to form anew the various species into natural
groups or genera, characterised by permanent differences
in habit, form, and structure. This task Persoon has in a
great measure accomplished, and has published the result
of his labours, in two works entitled, Tentamen DisjiositioniB
Melhodica Fungorum, and Observationes My cologic a .

In the Natural Method of Jussieu, the fungi form one
of the orders of the acotyledonous division of plants. They
do not admit of generic arrangement according to the parts
of fructification, so coiiveniently as the phenogamous plants,
yet still the position of the seed-vessel furnishes the means
of the more general classification ; while their form, colour,
and consistence, aid us in the discrimination of the species.
By Persoon they are divided into two great tribes, according
as the capsule is situated on the outside or in the interior
of the plant.

The GvMNocAKPi have their capsules or seed-vessels
situated on the external surface. In form as well as in
structure, the plants of this tribe present very remarkable
differences, and even the parts destined for the production
of the seed, exhibit very various appearances. These dif-
ferences, however, are not without their use, as they enable
us to combine the various gtnera urider different families,
and thus assist the student, by diminishing the labour of
investigation. This tribe is accordingly divided into five
families, and contains twenty-one genera.

The ANGiot;.\RPi have the capsule placed internally;
and in some it is contained in a receptacle which is closed
on all sides, at least in the young stages of the plant. To
this receptacle Persoon has given the name of peridium.
This tribe is divided into four families, and includes twen-
ty-five genera.

We now propose to consider more minutely these various
genera, and to explain the characters upon which their ex-
istence depends. 'I'hat their number will surprise the
Liunaean student accustomed to refer to Hudson, Wither-

FUNGI.

509

ing, and Liglitfoot, wc arc prepared to expect ; but wc re-
quest his attention to the t'ollowiiig circumstances. Accu-
rate observers of nature are become numerous ; botanists
are now in possession oi" more powerful instruments, and
better methods of analysis ; and llieir studies are greatly
facilitated by accurate representations. Hence it is that
new species are daily brought to light ; the history of old
species elucidated ; and new genera formed !)y almost every
observer, in consequence of the liiscovery of new relations.
The formation of new genera, is the necessary consequence
of the enlargement of the science. Linnseus was not ac-
quainted with an hundred species of fungi; now their num-
ber has increased more tlian ten-fold. To us therefore the
Linnasan genera have become useless. They mark the
former state of the science, and they have contributed their
share to the advancement of the study; our systems and
our genera must, in like manner, yield to the more extensive
and accurate information of future observers. While we
approve of the formation of new genera, therefore, wlicre
the state of the subject demands a, we condemn that zeal
so conspicuously displayed by some, in the frittering down
of the old genera into as many new ones almost as there are
species. Such naturalists mistake the object and the end
of these subdivisions, imprudently attempt to pass beyond
the bounds which limit the present state of the science, and
endeavour to anticipate those changes which other disco-
veries and more enlarged views will render necessary. In
this account of the genera, we have confined ourselves to
those which are sanctioned by high authority. These are
principally derived from the works of French naturalists,
who, unrestrained by the fastidious reserve of the British
character, and possessed of more ample means through
^national munificence, have of late contributed materially to
the enlargement of systematic botany and zoology. The
description of one species at least will be subjoined to each
genus, together with a reference to those works where
faithful representations of them may be found.

TRIBE I. GYMNOCARPI.

Family I. Comfiosed of Filaments.

Genus I. Byssus. The plants which are now referred
to this genus, exhibit the appearance of fine down or velvet,
and consist of small filaments, which are simple, branched,
anastamosing, or interwoven. They occur of various co-
lours, as white, yellow, red, or brown. Almost all the
species included in the first section of the genus Byssus
of Linnaeus still remain under this title.

As an example of this genus, we may mention the Byssus
Candida, (Dill. Muse. tab. 1 . fig. 15. A.) Its substance is
tender, woolly, of a white colour, and closely pressed to the
substance on which it grows. From its broad and muci-
laginous base arise many slender branches, spreading more
in breadth than height, elegantly subdivided, the extremi-
ties ending in capillary fibres variously branched, or in a
thin expanded surface like fine paper. It grows upon dead
leaves and rotten wood. It is the Himantia Candida of Per-
soon.

Every person must have observed in the beginning of
summer a greenish scum, floating on the surface of small
ponds, rendering the water greenish, turbid, and hardly
drinkable. This substance was considered by Linnseus as
belonging to the present genus ; but subsequent naturalists
have referred it to the genus Conferva. Be that as it may,
it often proves a great nuisance in wells ; and the discovery
of any method of destroying it must necessarily be accept-
able. In the spring of 1815, when the workmen were en-

gaged in the erection ol the new liglit-house on the Isle of
May, under the inspection of that eminent engineer Robert
Stevenson, Esq. they were much incommoded by the ap-
pearance of this suljstance on all the wells and pools of the
island. Quicklime in considerable quantity was thrown into
the wells, without retarding or destroying the growth of
this vegetable. At last the wells were enclosed with walls
sufficiently high to exclude the light from the water, and
this conttivance fortunately succeeded in the extermination
of a plant which at one time threatened to prove a very
serious evil.

Genus U. Monilia. The plants of this genus arc
composed of slender stalks, which are either simple or
branched, and resemble the filaments of the preceding ge-
nus. These stalks bear on their summits small articulated
threads composed of spherical globules, which separate
when the plant grows ripe. The species of this genus
bear a very near resemblance to those included in the ge-
nus Mucor; but their naked capsules, joined to the want
of a vesicular peridium, forbid such a union as the incor-
poration of the two genera.

Monilia gtauca, (Mich. gen. 212. t. 91. f. I.) This is the
Mucor glaucus of Linnseus. Its stalks are white, simple,
and slender; the capsules are agglutinated, the one before
the other, in diverging lines, representing little tufts of
feathers, of a spherical form. The capsules are round
and diaphanous; white at first, but turning green as the
plant reaches maturity, at which period they separate from
one another. This plant grows in tufts, and sometimes
scattered, on fruits which are in a putrifying state. Another
species of this genus, Monilia digitata, the Mucor crusta-
ceus of Linnaeus, is found on corrupting meat, but it dif-
fers from the preceding in having the seeds disposed in an
umbel.

Genus III. Botrytis. In this genus, the stalks are
straight and branched, bearing upon their summits naked
capsules, in a head, or in clusters, the one not agglutinated
to the summit of the other. They closely resemble the
genera Manilla, Mucor, and .figerita. They possess an
evanescent existence. They are distributed into two sec-
tions, the first comprehending those with upright branched
fibres, and the second those which form a sort of bed from
which the upright stalks proceed.

Botrytis lignifraga. Sowerby, tab. 378. fig. 14. may be
mentioned as an example of the first. It grows upon the
bark of trees, but especially on the birch, imbedded in the
external layers of the bark, piercing the epidermis, and
forming on the outside small tubercular masses. These
are at first white, and resemble cotton ; but they afterwards
change to a deep green, and become powdery. The stalks
are slender, crowded, upright, and interwoven. The cap-
sules are rounded, and very small. Mr Sowerby considers
this species and Monilia glauca as varieties of the same
plant, and as constituting the much-esteemed blue mould
in rotten cheese.

Botrytis rosea may be given as an example of the second
section. It is the Mucor roseus of Sowerby, Tab. 178. fig.
11. This forms small knobs, which are at first white,
round, and of a hairy aspect; afterwards they lengthen out,
become of a vermilion colour, and emit a reddish powder:
the base consists of strong, straight fibres, from which pro-
ceed, at right angles, upright, simple, slender stalks, bear-
ing at their summits from two to five oval capsules. It
grows chiefly on the bark of trees, especially the Alder,
also on the decayed kernel of nuts and on rotten wood.
When growing upon trees, this plant usually appears at
the opening of the glands, or near the place where some
insect has made a puncture.

Genus IV. Aegerita. To the naked eye, the plants

510

FUxNGl.

of lliis genus jiicsent noihin;!; but a tubercle or convex
crust; under ihe microscope, however, they exhibit a
iiunibcr ol' separate spherical capsules, aitached to branch-
ed and extremely slender fibres, which form tlie base.
They resemble the plants of the precctlihjj genera in
form, but their aspect is glabrous and fleshy, the others
being; hairy or fibrous.

Aigerita aurantia, the Mucor aurantius of Withering.
liuUiard's Chamji. p. 103. tab. 504. fig. 5. The lilameius
are slender, branched and creeping, supporting wiiliout or-
der minute rounded seeds. This plant tornis litUe plates
of a golden yellow colour on the balk of decayed wood, the
lioops of casks, and the coiks of bottles.

Ge.vus V. CoNoi'LKA. This genus contains plants
which are composed of branched fiiauients, resembling the
Byssi, bearing, here anit there, the capsules, which are
nearly globular, and easily detached like powder.

Cuno/Uea fiuccinirjidt's. This species grows on the dead
leaves of the carices, forming very minute black tubercles,
which are easily destroyed. These, when examined with a
microscope, are found to be composed of branched pellu-
cid filaments, bearing upon their whole surface, opake, an-
gular globules, which are large when compared with the
site of the stalk.

Gencs V'I. Erineum. This genus consists of lubes,
frequently cylindrical, and truncated at the summit. They
grow in numerous groups on the leaves of living plants.
It is not as yet ascertained whether the capsules are inter-
nal or external.

Erineum vitit. This plant grows on the inferior surface
of the leaves of the vine, where it forms numerous irregu-
lar patches of a red, or rather of a lust colour. Under the
microscope, it appears to be composed of a multitude of
simple, crisped, cylindrical tubes, truncated at the summit.

Genus VII. Stilbum. In consistence this genus re-
sembles the Mucor, but is somewhat firmer. The stem
supports a rounded head, which is solid ; at first watery or
gelatinous, afterwards compact and opake; and which, ac-
cording to Tode, bears the seeds at the external surface.

Stiibuyn rigidum. Pers. Syn. 680. The stem of this plant
is stiff, cylindrical, permanent, and of a black colour. The
head is globular, at first watery, of a white colour, or slight-
ly yellow ; it afterwards becomes grey, and separates from
the stem at maturity. It is found on rotten wood in the
spring.

Family II. Fungi, ivhich do not decay into a fiulp, and in
•uihiclt the fertile surface is united or continuous.

Genus VIII. Helotium. The plants included in this
genus have a regularly convex pileus, or cap, supported
on a stalk, and smooth on both sides. The capsules are
produced on the upper surface, and are disposed in the
same manner as in the following genus.

Helotium agariciformis. Helvella agariciformis of Wi-
thering. Sower, tab. 57. The stem is cylindrical, about
the thickness of a pin ; the cap is thin and hemispherical,
with a regularly rounded margin. The whole plant is very
small, of a white colour, and resembles an Agaric in its ap-
pearance. It is found on rotten wood in moist and shaded
places.

Genus IX. Peziza. The Fezizae consist of a cu[;-
shaped receptacle, cither concave or hemispherical ; tlie
superior surface is smooth, and the seeds which it bears es-
cape in the form of a fine powder. According to liedwig,
the seeds are contained in membranaceous capsules, each
of which contains in general eight seeds. These fungi vary
very much in their general appearance. Some are support-
ed on footstalks, while others are destitute of them. They

live upon the ground, on rotten wood, and even in water.
As to substance, they are either coriaceous, lieshy, or
waxy ; characters which serve to distribute the bpecies of
the genus into the three following sections.

Sucr. I. Coriaceous. J'eziza coriacca. Bull. p. 258. lab.
438. fig. 1. This plant is glabrous and asli-coioured, the
skin is thick and coriaceous, the inferior part produced iu-
to a slender stcni, contracicd at the base. Above it is sal-
ver-shaped, ferruginous towards the cemrc, and plentifully
covered v/itli a grey powder. It is found on tne dung of
the blag, the horse, and the ass.

Sect. 2. Fleshy. Peziza frucligena. Sower, tab. 117.
This species is about hail an inch in lieight, with a slender
stalk tapering downwards. The upper part is more or less
concave, opake, leathery, and lieshy. It is ofien found on
coriaceous fruits, and, after Withering, we have found it in
clusters on roiten sticks.

Sect. 3. Waxy. Peziza acetabulum. Sower, tab. 59.
This is among the largest of the genus. The stalk is
woody, short, and brown, branching up the base of the cap.
The cap is upwards of two inches in diameier, and at first
bell-shaped ; afterwards it becomes more shallow, waved
at the edges, reddish brown within, and paler without. It
is lound on rotten wood, and also on the ground.

Genus X. Tremella. The Tremellae consist of a ge-
latinous substance of various forms, coi.taining the seeds
scattered over their surface. Tiij genus Tremella of Lin-
neeus has undergone a considerable revolution. The green
c-oloured species inclosing a gelatinous mass, containing
filaments, now rank with the Alg.e in the genus A'ostocli
of Vaucher ; others are inserted among the ./iegerite, and
a few will be found with the Gymnosfioraiigix.

Tre^m-ella amethystea. Bull. tab. 499. fig. 5. The sub-
stance of this species is gelatinous, and divided at the base
into variously shaped lobes ; the colour is purple, more or
less deep ; the surface glabrous, often furrowed. It is only
found on rotten wood.

Genus XI. Helvella. The fungi of this genus are
furnished with a stem, terminated by an irregular cap,
smooth on both sides, and throwing out the seeds at the in-
ferior surfaces only. In appearance they resemble the Me-
rulii, but the want of veins or gills beneath, form a suffi-
cient mark of distinction.

Helvella mitra. Sower, lab. 39. The stalk is two or three
inches high, a finger thick or more, irregular, hollow,
deeply furrowed, often full of holes, or sinuses, and gene-
rally of a white colour. The cap is deflexcd, and com-
monly divided into curled or folded lobes, which adhere to
the stalk, but is extremely irregular and variable, and has
neither gills nor pores. Its colour is generally a yellowish
white, sometimes fuscous, livid, or black purple ; the sub-
stance is waxlike and friable, the surface soft like saliin.
The seeds ate oval, and are thrown out by sudden jerks.

Genus XII. Spathularia. This genus contains such
fungi as possess a stalk, with a cap, compressed vertically
on each side of the stein. They make the nearest approach
to the Clavaritc.

Sfiathulariajiavida. Helvella spathula of Sower, tab. 35.
This plant is of a yellowish colour ; the stalk is cylindrical,
wrinkled, and compressed towards the top, which bears a
vertical cap, obtuse at the summit, and produced on each
side of ihe stalk. Hence it resembles a spathula. It is
found in autumn in pine groves. When in perfection, if
• the heads are touched, a smoke arises from the edges,
which is thrown out with considerable force, and conlii.ues
to use for some time, glittering in the sun like panicles of •
silver.

Genus XIII. Clavaria. The fungi of this genus con-
sist of simple or branched expansions, generally flesny,

FUNG I.

511

sometimes coriaceous, desiiuite of a csp, and emilting the
seeds from all parts of the surface. They are, in general,
club-shaped, and have been divided by Ptrsoon into tc.'vcral
genera. The present genus excludes those Linnxan s|>e-
cies which are known to possess distinct receptacles tor the
seed.

Sect. I. Fleshy, aimfik. Clavaria /lintillaris. Sower, tab.
237. This is the largest and thickest species of the genus.
It is from one to two inches high, simple, glabrous, and
club-shaped. The skin is very close and filamentous at
the summit, which is at first rounded, and afterwards parts
lengthwise into fimgous threads. It grows upon the ground
and among moss, is of a yellow or straw colour, and of a
friable substance like suet.

Sect. 2. Fleshy, branched. Ctavaria coralloides. Sower,
tab. 278. This plant is brittle and plump, simple, or in two
or three divisions, each of these subdivided into a number
of smaller branches, like some species of coral. These
branches are round, or slightly coinpressed, and often
waved at the edges. The colour is in general yellowish,
rarely reddish, sometimes white. The flesh, or internal
substance, is white. It grows upon the ground, and is sub-
ject to great variation in form and colour. It is admitted
to the table, and esteeined one of the best of the esculent
fungi.

Sect. 3. Coriaceous, simple. C/avaria ofihioglossoidcs.
Sower, tab. 83. This plant is readily distinguished by the
blackness of its colour, and softness to the touch. It is
about two inches high, and half an inch over at the broad-
est part. The stock is club-shaped at the summit, some-
times divided into two parts, generally grooved, and often
twisted. The surface is glabrous, and covered with a very
fine black powder. It is white within, and hollow when
old. It grows upon the ground in moist situations.

Sect. 4. Coriaceous, branched. Clax'arialaciniata. Sower,
lab. 158. This forms at first a shapeless crust, which, as
it grows old, divides into flat expanded branches, jagged at
the ends. It varies much in its appearance. Its colour is
white or grey, but the extremities of the branches are of-
ten tipt with reddisfi brown. The substance is solid and
tough. It grows upon the ground.

Genus XIV. Thelepiiora. The Thelephorae possess
a coriaceous cap, of an irregular form, sessile, and adher-
ing to other bodies by the side or the back ; the outer sur-
face is smooth, or covered with a few papillje, and bears the
seeds. They are found attached to the stems of trees, by
their barren surface ; afterwards they lose in part their ut-
tachmerit, and become horizontal, thus placing the fertile
surface beneath. They constitute several very well mark-
ed and natural sections.

Sect. 1. Cafi entire, funnel-shaped, adheiing by the cen-
tre. Thelejihora caryophyllea,yiuricularia caryoph. Sower,
lab. 2 1 3. This plant is fleshy, thick, and soft. The upper
surface is beautifully zoned; the under side is smooth and
waved, and covered with globules disposed in fours, which
are visible with a microscope. It is sometimes simple, at
other times divided into many parts, covering each other
like the tiles of a house. The margin is frequently torn.
In some cases it adheres by the side, and in others appears
to be furnished with a short peduncle. It vaiies greatly
in colour, through different shades of brown. It is annual,
and grows upon the ground, and upon putrid wood.

Sect. 2. Cap semicircular, and attached by the truncated
side. Thelepbora rcfiexa. Sower, tab. 27. This is a very
comimon plant, growing on decayed trees, pales, and gates.
The upper surface is zoned and hairy; the under surface
close, and sometimes variegated. In colour and shape it
is subject to much variation. The substance, when young,
must be gelatinous, as it is often pierced by blades of grass,

but when old it is tough and coriaceous. The under sur-
face has always a i-cddish hue.

Sect. 3. Cap attached by the barren surface. Thclcpho-
ra papt/rina. Sower, tab. 349. This is slender, soft zoned,
and hairy above, 'i'ne inferior surfitcc is at first united, af-
terwards it is zoned and pilled with pores of various sizes.
The prevailing colour is yellow or red. It grows on the
trunks of trees.

Genus XV. Hvdnum. The inferior surface, and some-
times the superior, of this fungus, is hedge-hogged, with
awl-shaped substances, ])oiiaing to the earth. These pric-
kles are soft, solid, cylindrical or conical, emitting seeds
from near their txtremitits. The plants are either fleshy
or coiiaceous, and grow upon the ground or upon the
trunks of trees.

Sect. I. Without a distinct cafi, branched. Hydnum co-
ralloides. Sower, lab. 2o2. This is the largest species of
the genus. It is sessile, at first white, and afterwards yel-
low. The base, which is fleshy and brittle, sends out a
number of branches, whose under surface is beset with
prickles. The last divisions of the branches form imbri-
cated bushes, each bearing a tuft of long, awl-shaped, crook-
ed, and parallel piickles. When young, it is very like a
cauliflower. It grows upon dead stumps and aged trees.

Sect. 2. Jl'iihout a distinct cap, base spreading- on the
trunks of trees. Hydnum barba Jovis. Sower, lab. 328.
This fungus is coriaceous, sessile, membranaceous, and ap-
plied to the substance upon which it grows by all the
points of its superior surface. When young, it is of a white
colour, becoming afterwards of a yellowish red. The in-
ferior surface is covered with immerous white simple
rnammellar protuberances; from the summit of these, yel-
low sirnple or branched filaments proceed; and in the lat-
ter stage of the plant, others are protruded, which arc of an
orange colour, and covered wilh hairy spicule.

Sect. 3. Pileus distinct, prickles cylindrical or conical.
Hydnum auriscalpum. Sower, tab. 267. This plant is co-
riaceous, tan-coloured at first, afterwards becoming of a
dark brown. The stalk is thick, short, and solid, support-
ing a rounded, zoned, and sometimes downy caj), which is
at first vaulted and smooth above ; afterwards the cap be-
comes funnel-shaped, and tlie inferior surface studded with
saiall cylindrical prickles. It grows upon old rotten cones,
and decayed branches of the fir tree, lying half buried in
the ground.

Sect. 4. Cap more or less distinct, firickles lamellar. Hyd-
7!um sublamellosum. Sower, lab. 112. This Hydnum is
tender, white, and furnished with a short, solid, cylindrical
stem. The cap is very thick, and the prickles are formed
into small straight plates, variously waved. It grows on
the ground, either singly or in groups.

Family III. Fungi, having the fertile surface furnished
vjiih tubes.

Genus XVI. Fistulina. Cap wilh separate tubes un-
derneath, containing the seeds. The jiJants now included
in Ibis genus were foi-inerly ranked with the Boleti, from
which lliey seem sufficiently distinct.

Fistulina Hepatica. Sower, tab. 58. This plant is very
plentiful in autumn among oak trees, growing on their
trunks or spreading tools. Its vegetation is most rapid in
wet weather. When very young, it resembles a straw-
berry; and, advancing in growtli, it becomes hispid, with
tubular protuberances, shaped like florets. By degrees it
acquires a distinct underside, of a pale yellow, with simi-
lar protuberances, and as these become more distinct, the
upper ones lose their form. At length the under surface
becomes covered wilh distinct and separate tubes, entire at

512

FUNGI.

their orifice, turning brown, and emitting seeds at their
edges, which often hang in festoons, or like cobwebs
formed i)y spiders. The fungus afterwards either rots. Or
turns black in decay. It varies in shape and size, but
commonly reseml)les liver, being saturated with a blood-
coloured lluid, which adds to the resemblance. Its taste
is like that of the common mushroom, and some persons
reckon it nearly as good.

Genus XVII. Boletus. In this genus the cap has
tubes underneath, which are united, and contain the seeds.
It is indispensably necessary, in so extensive a genus as
this, to subdivide the species into sections. Linnaeus was
acquainted with but few species of Boletus, and was satis-
fied with distributing thein into two sections, the first con-
taining such as are parasitical and destitute of a stem, and
such as are furnished with a stem. In the Flore Fr(mcaisc,
they are divided into four sections; the first comprehend-
ing the Fistulinje ; the second such as have an imperfect
cap, with the tubes scattered over diH'erent parts of the
plant ; the third, with the tubes united together, and inse-
parable from the flesh of the pileus, is subdivided into
those without stems, those with lateral stems, and those
with central stems ; and the fourth having the tubes uni-
ted, but easily separated from the flesh. Tlie arrange-
ment of Withering, however, appears both the most ob-
vious and the most natural. It is founded on the condition
of the stalk ; the plants being either without a stem, hav-
ing a central stem, or a lateral one. The subdivisions of
his sections, founded on the colour of the tubes, is more
artificial and inadmissible, as it is a character in the Boleti
■which is liable to many changes.

Sect. 1. Stemless. Boletus ungulatus. Bui. it;niarius of
Sower, tab. 132. This plant is coriaceous, attached by the
side, and shaped like a horse's hoof. The cap is hard, rub-
bing to a polish, marked with concentric bands or ridges,
each broad ridge indicating the growth of the year, and
three or four ,small ones that of the diH'erent seasons of
the year. The tubes are very slender, equal, the colour
of tanned leather, in old plants stratified, a fresh layer be-
ing added every year. It grows on various kinds of trees,
and subsists for several years. It is the .Agaricus Chirur-
goriim of Pharmacopceias.

Sect. 2. Ste?n central. Boletus pi/ieratus. Sower, tab.
34. The stem is cylindrical, greenish yellow, and nearly
two inches high. The cap is yellow, flat, smooth, thin at
the edge, and about three inches over. Flesh thick,
tinged with yellow. Tubes decurrent, short, deep orange,
or earthy red ; pores brown and irregular. Tliis species
grows upon the ground, and has a pungent effect upon the
throat like that of a capsicum.

Sect. 3. Stem lateral. Boletus betulinus. Sower, tab.
212. This stein is nearly two inches in length, and half
an inch in diameter, of a black colour. The cap is pink,
brown, oblong, convex, curled at the edge, thin and flexi-
ble, and often divided into tongue-shaped lobes. The
flesh is white ; the tubes white and short; the pores very
minute. It grows upon the trunks of old trees.

Family IV. Fungi, having the fertile surface furnished
mith gilts or prominent ridges.

Genus XVIII. Merulius. The plants of this genus
are fleshy or membranaceous; the cap is furnished with
gills or veins underneath, of the same substance with the
plant.

Sect. 1. With a stem and gills underneath. Merulius
umbelUferus. Bull. lab. 519, Fig. 1- A. The stem is
whitish, smooth and hollow, not thicker than a horse hair
in the smaller plants. The cap is white, thin, convex.

a little bossed with the sides, and plaited. The gills are
white, fixed mostly in pairs in the small, and in fours in
the larger plants, the long ones being about 18 in imniber.
The delicate structure of tiiis plant causes it lo tremble
when held in the hand. The cap is so dclitatcly ti<tnspa-
rent, that the edges of the gills appear plainly on the up-
per side, and have caused it to be described as striated. It
is common in the autumn months at hedge bottoms, and
amongst moss, adhering lo dead leaves and half rotten
sticks.

Sect. 2. JVith a stem and -veins underneath. Meruliut
infundibuliformis Bull lab. 465, fig. 2. The stem in this
plant is fluted, hollow, running insensibly into the pileus,
which is also hollow. The gills are silvery grey, and
branched like nerves Tne whole plant is tough, elastic,
and of a greyish mouse colour.

Sect. 3. Stemlesa. Merulius tnembranaceua. Sower.
tab. 348. The whole plant is somewhat like wet parch-
ment, lobed and waved irregularly. It grows in a vertical
direction, the one side containing fibrils, by which it ad-
heres to other bodies, and the other side is furnished with
fine branched anastomosing veins. It grows on moss in
damp places, and on thatched houses.

Genus. XIX. Agaricus. The agarics are fleshy and
membranaceous; the cap is furnished with gills under-
neath, of a different substance from the rest of the plant,
and composed of two plates containing the seeds.

When Linnaeus published his Systema .Yature, he was
acquainted with only 2" species of agarics, which he sub-
divided into two sections, Stipitati, pileo orbiculato, and
Parasitici, acaulcs demidiati. Since the days of the illus-
trious Swede, life number of species has increased prodi-
giously; so that in Britain alone, nearly 300 are known as
native plants. Various attempts have accordingly been
made to introduce accurate divisions into so extensive a
genus. But difliculties nearly insurmountable have hitherto
rendered such efforts abortive. All that the generality of
naturalists observe, is the last state of the existence of the
plant; impregnation has probably taken place before it
rises above the surface of the ground, so that nature exhi-
bits to us the ripening and dispersion of the seeds only,
and the final dissolution of the individual. Since we are
not permitted to inspect those organs which, among the
phenogamous plants, serve so admirably for their arti-
ficial, we had almost said for their natural division, all that
remains for us is, to examine with care those characters
which are least liable to change, even although these
should be but remotely connected with any of the primary
functions of their nature. Among the French writers,
many subdivisions have been adopted, but almost all of
them are artificial, founded upon characters either diffi-
cult of detection, or inconstant and fugacious. This will
be better illustrated, by stating the characters of those
subdivisions, as they appear, for example, in the Flore
Francaise, wnich areas follows: I. Pleurofius. Destitute
of a wrapper or volva, stem wanting, or lateral, or eccen-
tric. The sessile species are usually coriaceous; those
having a stem are fleshy, with an irregular pileus. As an
example, we may refer to the jigaricus quercinus of Sow-
erby, tab. 181. 2. Russula. Destitute of a wrapper,
stem central, gills equal among themselves, and not ter-
minating in a collar surrounding the stem, as Agaricus
pertinaceus, Flor. Fran. No. 369. 3. Lactarius. Desiilute
of a wrapper, stem central, gills unequal, juice milky, ge-
nerally white, sometimes yellow or red, e. g. Agaricua de-
Uciosus. Sower, tab. 222. 4. Cofirinus. Destitute of a wrap-
per, stem central, naked, or furnished with a ring; gills,
unequal, dissolving into an inky fluid when old ; cap mem-
branaceous, e. g. Agaricus cylindricus. Sower, tab. 189.

FUNGI.

5. Pratclla. Destitute of a wrapper, stem central, naked,
or furiiislietl with a ring ; gills turning black, but not dis-
solving; as tliey grow old ; cap fleshy, c. g. Agaricus cija-
■ntcus of Witherin.!^. 6. Rotula. Destitute of a wrapper,
stem central, gills equal, ending in a collar surrounding
the stem,c.^'. Jgaricus rotula. Sower, tab. 95. 7. Myccna.
Destitute of a wrapper, stem central, hollow, gills not
blackening with age, cap not u\'nh\\\z^\.c(\, e. g. Jgarkus
pratcnsis. Sower, tab. 247. 8. Omlihalia. Destitute of a
wrapper and ring, stem hollow or solid, cap umbilicatcd,
gills generally decurrent, and not blackening with age,
e.g. ylgaricus drijolihilus. Sower, tab. 1 27. 9. Gijrnno/uts.
Destitute of a wrapper and ring, stem solid, cap fleshy,
gills not blackening with age, and either decurrent on the
stem, as ylgarkus miniatus, Sower, tub. 141, or adhering to
the stem, as .igaricus roseiu, Sower, tab. 72, or having the
gills loose, as Agaricus aurantius, Sower, tab. 381. 10.
Cortinaria. Destitute of a wrapper, stem central, gills not
blackening with age, but covered when young with an in-
complete curtain, which leaves upon the stem a fllftmen-
tous ring, e. g. .'igaricus colliniCus. Sower, tab. 9. 11. Le-
liiota. Destitute of a wrapper, stem central, gills not black-
ening with age, covered when young with a curtain, which
rends, and leaves on the stem a ring, e. g. Agaricus cepes-
tijies, Sower, tab. 2. 12. Amanita. Furnished with a wrap-
per or membranaceous covering, which envelopes the
mushroom when young, afterwards rending, and some-
times leaving its remains upon the cap. Of these, some
have the wrapper Imperfect, as Agaricus verrucosus of
BuUiard, tab. 316 ; while in others it is complete, as Aga-
ricus bulbosus, Sower, tab. 130.

With regard to the ivrafifier, the volva of some authors,
but not of Linnaeus, it appears to belong but to a very few
species; and even in these, to be sometimes so imperfect
as to lead authors to deny its existence. It seems to be
confined to the plants with solid stems only; nor has it
been found attendant even upon these when the gills are
decurrent. It envelopes the whole plant in its early stage,
ttnd afterwards bursts asunder, leaving its remains in the
form of warts upon the cap in some instances, and in
others disappearing entirely. On a character so uncertain,
is the genus Amanita of Persoon founded.

The ca/i, or fiileus as it is called, is the most obvious
part of the mushroom ; but it is apt to vary both in shape
and colour. The last character is very uncertain ; the
former is a little more permanent. The cap is either co-
nical, convex, flat, or concave and funnel-shaped. It is
constantly varying in the same plant, but is pretty uni-
formly the same in the same species, wlien the plant is in
perfection ; that is, when fully or nearly expanded, and be-
fore it exhibits symptoms of decay. In some mushrooms,
both the cap and the stem exhibit a viscidity or clammi-
ness on the surface. This character, however, is not much
to be depended on, as in dry weather some of the viscid
spaces shew no symptohis of a moist or even adhesive
substance ; and in a moist atmosphere, many, at other
times dry to the feel, become more or less viscid.

The stem is less variable than the cap. Its shape, the
proportion of its length to its breadth, and of both to the
cap, aftbrd tolerable distinctive marks; and its colours,
though subject to change, are perhaps rather more fixed
than those of the cap. But the most permanent charac-
ters afforded by the stem, depend upon its position and in-
ternal structure. The Agarics are either destitute of a
stem, the cap sitting close upon the root, or the stems are
central or lateral. When the stem is cut across with a sharp
knife, it appears hollow or tubular in some species. The
tube is not always proportioned to the size of the stem, tho'
it is uniform thioughout its whole length. It is sometimes

Vol. IX. Pakt. II.

entirely empty, sometimes loosely filled with a pithy sub-
stance; but its regularity is not affected by that circum-
stance. In many species, the stem when cut appears
solid, varying greatly, however, in the degree of solidity.
It may be as solid as the flesh of an apple, or as spongy
as the pith of elder; but still it is solid, that is, there is no
regular hollow pervading its whole length, though tho
more spongy and larger stems sometimes sh.ow irregular
and partial hollow place? from the shrinking of the pithy
substance as the plant grows old ; but this can never be;
mistaken for a regular, uniform, and native hollowness.

The gilts r.i'e the flat thin plates found on the under side
of the cap, and attached to il. They are of a texture evi-
dently different from that of the stem or the cap, and vary
much in their respective lengths. Each gill consists of
two membranaceous plates, between which the seeds arc
formed. They are always attached to the pileus, and
sometimes to that only. They often also adhere to the
stem, and frequently extend along it downwards. These
fixed and decurrent gills arc attached to the stem by their
ends, which are next the centre of the cap, and not by their
erfges, as is sometimes the case in some of those species
whose caps are nearly cylindrical. Among those which
have loose gills, (or not attached to tlie stem), there are a
few species in wiiich these org:\ns terminate in a collar,
not unaptly compared to tlie nave of a wheel, the hollov/
centre receiving the stem like an axle. The number of
gills varies even in the same species. Sometimes they arc
all equal in length, at other times there are between the pri-
mary gills, which extend from the margin to the centre of
the cap, a few secondary ones, reaching from the circum*-
ference a short way inwards. Those gills which have four
in a set, are by far the most common ; but in those which
have four in a set when young, the gills very often increase
to eight when fully expanded, some of the longer gills
bearing from the stem. Characters taken from the num-
ber of the gills, are therefore very uncertain and variable.
The colour of the gills is an obvious, and fortunately, at the
same time, a permanent circumstance ; and when we reflect
that their colour is principally, if not solely, caused by that
of the fructification or seeds within them, we might a
firiori have expected what experience has taught in this
case, that it is the most fixed, the most certain character-
istic on which to found the distinctions of the species; and
that this, together with the structure, will be at all times
sufficient to afford permanent specific distinctions. It is
allowed, that these colours change when the plant begins
to decay, but no botanist would complain that the charac-
ters arc wanting, in a subject collected in a rotten state.
The colour of the flat sides of the gills is what ought to
to be attended to, because the colour at the edge in some
plants is different through all the stages of its growth, and
in others it changes sooner than that of the sides, evidently
from the discharge of the seeds when ripe. The colour of the
whole of the gills being sometimes influenced by the ripened
seeds, it is clear that this colour ought to be described where
it is liable to such a change, not only in the perfect and vi-
gorous state of the plant, but also in its mature and nearlv
decaying state, taking its character from the former.
Thus, in several of the deliquescent agarics, especially
such as dissolve in decay to an inky liquor, the plants,
when very young, have white gills; these become grey
when the seeds are formed, and black when quite ripe, and
dissolve in decay. These circumstances may be properly
noticed in the history of the plant, but no o^ie would tliink
of taking its character from its yet but half unfolded state,
any more than fixjm its state of decay ; such a plant, there-
fore, must be placed amongst others whose gills are grey.

Some of the agarics have a curtain, tho volva of Lin-
3T

5 14

FUiNGF.

iiaeiis, cxtendiiii^ fiom l!ie stem to the cdi^c of the pileus.
This cm tain is tocn as the ijilcus cxinuuls, unci soon va-
nishes; but tiie part allachcd to tlic stem olten leniains,
fonnini^ a riiiff round it. Tliis rinp; is n\ore or less jierma-
nent as its suhstance is more or less lender; hut sonic ol
Ihe species appear some years with, and other years with-
out, a rin^; so that, though it forms a very obvious charac-
ter, it cannot be admitted as the t^round of specilic distinc-
tion. Major Velley, when speaking of Agaricua erugino-
SU.1, says, " in the autumn of 1788, in several huntlred spe-
cimens, I never found one mat had a ring on the stem ; but
the foliowing year, almost every one that occurred had this
distinguishing mark."

Many of the agarics, when wounded, pour out a milky
juice; but this circumstance is by no means uniform in the
s.an>e species. .Some plants, apparently healthy and vigo-
rous, shew no signs of milk when wounded, while others of
the same species, on the same spot, and at the same time,
pour out their milk in abundance. This frequently hap-
pens with the .Igaricus exampelinus.

Taking all tliese characters in connection, and allotting
to each a conspicuous place, in proportion to its permanen-
cy, our countryman, Dr Withering, in his " Arrangement
of British Plants," presented to the public a classification
of the agarics, more simple, obvious, and applicable, than
any of those subdivisions which have hitherto appeared.
Without venturing to give a description of any of the spe-
cies belonging to the difl'erent divisions, we content our-
selves with presenting an outline of the whole.

A. Stenis central.

I. Solid and Decurrent.

1. Gills white. 4. Gills buff.

2. Gills brown. 5. Gills yellow.

3. Gills red. 6. Gills purple.

II. Solid and Fixed.

1. Gills white. 4. Gills buff.

2. fiills brown. 5. Gills yellow.

3. Gills purplish. 6. Gills grey.

III. Solid and Loose.

1. Gills white. 4. Gills buff.

2. Gills brown. 5. Gills yellow.

3. Gills red. 6. Gills grey.

IV. Hollow and Decurrent.

1. Gills white. 3. Gills yellow.

2. Gills red.

V. Hollow and Fixed.

Gills white. 5. Gills yellow.

Gills brown. 6. Gills buff.

Gills red. 7. Gills green.

Gills purple. 8. Gills grey.

VI. Hollow and Loose.

Gills white. 4. Gills buff.

Gills brown. 5 Gills yellow.

Gills red. 6. Gills grey.

B. Stems Lateral.

1. Gills white.

2. Gills brown.

C, Stemless.

3. Gills buff.

Gk.nus XX. MoiiciiF.r.i.A. 'I'he plants of this lyenns
have no wrapper; their ovoid cap is supported by a cylin-
drical stem, not perforated at the summit, but raiserl below
into anaslamosing nerves, forming polygonal cells, in winch
the seeds are concealed. These plants were formeriv as-
sociated with the genus Phallus, but in consequence of
their want of a wrapper, and the seeds not being enveloped
in a slimy liquor, they have been disjoined by Jussieu, La-
marck, and Fersoon.

MorchfUa cKculenta. J'hallua encuientus of Linnaeiis,
Sower, tab. 5 1. The stem is cylindrical, solid, or hollow ;
white and smooth; the cap is hollow within, ovoid, aflhering
to the stem by its base, and latticed on the surface witn
irregular sinuses : the height is about four inches. The
plant is well known in liritain by the name of Morel, and
is eaten with safety.

Family V^. Fungi, in miticli the fertile surface decays into a
fiul/t, the ftlant issuing from a wrap/ier.

Genus XXI. Phallus. Stem enveloped by a wrapper
at the base, supporting a cap, which is peiforated at the
top, marked with a network of cells, and furnished with a
slimy liquor, in which the seeds are lodged.

Phallus ini/iudicus. Sower, tab. 329. This is one of the
most singular productions of the whole tribe. It arises
from the earth under a wrapper, shaped exactly like a hen's
egg, of ihe same colour, having a long fibrous radicle at
the base. Tins wrapper is composed ot two coats or mem-
branes, the s|)ace between which is lull of a thick, viscid,
transparent matter, which, when dry, glues the coats toge-
ther, and shines like varnish. In tne next stage of growth,
the wrapper suddenly bursts into several lacerated perma-
nent segments, from the centre of which arises an erect,
while, cellular hollow sli-lk, about five or six inches high
and one thick, of a wax-like friable substance, and most
foetid cadaverous smell ; conic at each end, the base insert-
ed in a white, concave, membranaceous, tuibinated cup,
and the summit crowned with a hollow conical cap, an inch
long, having a reticulated cellular surface, its base detach-
ed from the stalk, and its summit umbilicatcd, and either
perforated or closed. The under side of this cap is cover-
ed with a clear, viscid, gelatinous matter, similar to that
found between the membranes of the wrapper ; and under
this viscid matter, concealed in reticulated receptacles, are
found the seeds ; which, when magnified, appear splierical.
As soon as the wrapper bursts, the plant begins to diffuse
its intolerable odours, which are so powerful, and widely
expanded, that it may be readily discovered by the scent
only, before it appears to the sight. At this time, the vis-
cid matter between the coats of the wrapper grows turbid
and fuscous; and when the plant arrives at its full matu-
rity, the clear viscid substance in the cap becomes gradu-
ally discoloured, putrid, and extremely foetid, and soon af-
terwards turns blackish, and, together with the internal part
of the cap, melts away. It is common in woods and hedges.
C;enus XXII. Clathrus. The receptacle for the seeds
in this genus is formed of fleshy, arched, anastamosing
branches, which form a kind of vault. The branches emit,
on all sides, a viscous liquor, concealing the seeds; the re-
ceptacle is inclosed in a wrapper in the young state of the
plant.

Clathrus cancellatua. Bull. p. 190, tab. 441. This plant
is sessile, globular, and white. The wrapper soon breaks
from the summit, and discloses the receptacle or cap, which
is often of a red colour. The branches of the receptacle
form an ovoid vault. The seeds are mixed with a stinking
liquor. It is found on sandy grounds, and in dry woods, in
liic middle purls of Europe.

FUNGI.

515

TRIBE II. ANGIOCARPI.

Family I. jVo /leridiian, l/ir filunts /turaailicaU /irotrrlril,
ivlieu yuung., by the c/ndcninn oj ihc plunl uliun tvliicli tlify
grunv.

Genus XXIII. Gymnospoh angium. The jjlants of this
genus exhibit a i;eljtiiioiib iiiaha, al tlic sui lace ol' which
sued vcbhels ai'ii luiujci, coiii|)usi.d ol ttto'coiiical cells, joiii-
L'll dt tile base, and sepaiaiiiii;; al inatuiiiy. 1 hese cap-
sules aie placed al the suiiiniil ol weak slender tiiainents,
wnich proceed lioni the base, anil traverse the gelatinous
mass. All the plants ot this j^eiius are parasitical on the
diHcrcnt species ol junipers.

(iymnoiporanffiuin Juscum. Treinella sabinae. Dicks.
Cry/tl. i. p. 14. 'l"his is of a reddish or brown colour, issu-
ing Ironi beneath the epidermis on which it grows. It is
somewhat narrow at the base, almost cylindiical, obtuse,
sometimes niarfced by a longitudinal groove. Its consis-
tence is a little gelatinous. The microscope discovers, on
the suilace, numerous seed vessels, supported by slender
filaments, proceeding from the base of the'plant. It giuws
upon ihe. Junifierus sabina, Stc.

Genus XXiV. Puocinia. The plants of this genus
present themselves under tiie form of compact gelatinous
tubercles, upon which the seed vessels are raised ; tliese
are supported upon stiff stems, are in general divided into
two or more cells, by transverse partitions, and emit the
seeds by tiie summit or by the sides. They grow upon the
leaves and young shoots of plants, sometimes under the epi-
dermis, which they pierce in order to reach the air, and
sometimes upon the epidermis itself. In autumn there is
scarcely a plant that is not infected with these parasites.
'I'hey are divided into three sections.

Si.01. 1. IVitk three or four cells. Pucciniarubi. Sower,
tab. 400, fig. 9. This is a very common plant, growing on
the under side of the leaves of the common bramble in au-
tumn, spotting their backs with little sooty-looking clusiers;
wliich, when magnified, are found to consist of a number of
tiaiisparent stems, tapering upwards, eacli with three or four
oval heads, vesembling little black beads placed on each
other, the uppermost somewhat acute at the apex.

Sect. 2. IVith livo cells. Puccinia g-raminis. The Uredo
friunenti of Sower, tab. 140. This species, too well known
m tills countiy by the name oi blight, grows on tiie leaves
and slaiks of various species ol gramina, thereby s'iniing
and weakening the plant. Il forms linear patches, which
are at first yellowish brown, and allerwards become black ;
the seed vessels aie suppoiltd on short stems, somtwiiat
ciavate ; the cells are two in number, liie one at the exiie-
mily somewhat larger than the other. Il is common on
wlieat. in low grounds, or where too closely sown, espe-
cially alter lain in the early part of auuiuni.

Sect. 5. With one ceil. Puccinia fiui. Sower, tab. 393,
fig. 8. This parasite attacks the stems, leaves, and ten-
drils, of the common pea. It grows in brown pustules,
which are a little prominent, ami scattered obiong on the
stem, but rounded on the leaves. The epidei mis is fii st
raised, and afterwards bursts and foiins a border around
tlic pustules. It consists ol unilocular ovoid capsules, sup-
ported on very short stems.

Gii.Nus XXV. Uui.laria. These grow in groups, un-
di r the epidermis of dead stalks, which tnev raisv-, and af-
terwards burst, each group consisiing of a muiliiutie of ar-
ticulated and sessile capsules These clifler from tne yenera
I'uiciiiia and Uredo, in growing upon dead stalks, and not
upon living leaves.

BuUaria uinbtUift_raruin. Pcrsoon's Obs. .l/'/r. tab. 2. fi".

5. This species is common on the dead stalks of umbelli-
leious plants, growing under the epidermis, which it raises
up in the form (jf an oval greyisii biadder, and tlieii pierces
it longitudinally ; a reddish brown mass may llieii be dis-
tinguished, almost pulverulent, which pn-seiiis, under Ine
microscope, sessile capsules, separated inio two cells by a
jiartition, or rather a transverse stricture, giving liiem me
form of the Figure 8.

Genus XXVI. Ureuo. This genus exhibits merely a
naked powder growing under the epidermis of living l< avts,
which it bursts, and issues by the orifice, the torn margin
resembling a small receptacle ; the seeds or capsules are
ovoid or globular, without transveise partitions. In au-
tumn these fungi are to be found on almost every leal. .Se-
veral species infest ihe willows.

SEor. 1. Puioder black, brown, or red. Uredo segetum.
Bull, page 90, tab. 472, fig. 2. It is painful for us to 4-e-
cord the name of another parasitical fungus, as destructive
to our ciopt as the blight, but known by the name ol Hmue,
and attacking the ears of wheat, oats, and barley. It con-
sists of small spherical globules, a little adhering together,
and of a brown or blackish colour. It grows ui.der the
epidermis, and sometimes destroys the whole parenchyma
of the ear. The epidermis which remains in shreds, and
the fibies, which, on account of their hardness, resist ine
devaslalion, were formerly supposed to be the seea-vessi;i,
and the proper filaments of the paras'tical plant.

Sect. 2. Powder yellow. Uredo linearis. Sower, tab.
139. This species grows on the leaves of many of the
glasses, forming linear patches visible on both sides, rising
under the epidermis, wnich at last bursts in the direction
of the nerves. The powder is at first yellow, afterwards
brown, composed of ovoid globules.

Sect. 3. Powder white. Uredo trago/iogi. This is found
on the leaves of the goal's-beard, in me form of a white
powder.

Family II. Peridium memhranaceous, Jilled with Powder
not intermingltd with PUaiiienls.

Genus XXVII. Ecidium. The fungi of this eenns
appear at first as simple tubercles, which soon open at
the sumnius into a circular orifice, more or less tleepjy
toothed. The inside contains a farinaceous powder. They
are all parasitical, growing upon the leaves of living
plants.

Stcr. 1. Tubercles scattered. Ecidium anemones. \j\-
copeicion anemones, Fnltn. Lin. Trans, vol. ii. p. 311,
'1 nis grows on tin- interior surface ot tne leaves of the
Anemone nemorosa, in the form of scattered tubercles.
They ap|)ear at first under the cuticle, and afterwards
burst forth like winte buds, with a pore in the summit,
and then expand into a cup with a iaciniated border. 'I'he
powder is white, and composed of ovoid giol>iiies, scarce-
ly cohering. Tnis plant can scarcely he mistaken for any
ol the other parasitical fungi with winch this anemone is
infested, as the Ecidium |)unctatum, in which the pow-
der IS brown, me Uredo anemones, and the Fuccmea ane-
mones.

Sect 2. Tubercles closing into a circular ring. Kcidium
tussilugmis. Sower, tab. 397, fig. I. Th s irrows upon
the uniler surf.ice of the leaves ol several species of tussi-
la^o. TUe leal appears with a reddish-wliite sjiot on tne
upper surface, and below the rei eptacUs are disponed in
spots, louhded and serraied, or often formed into a ring.
Powder orange, sometimes white.

Sei.t. 3. Branched in irregular cluiiers. p.cidium ber-
beridts. SuWcr. tuo. 3'jr. fi-. 5 f bis grows upon tne

3 r 2

FUNGI.

back ol' llic foliage of Ihc cominoii baiberi):, in rounded
convex tufts, llic space of each appearing on the upper
surface like a red spot. The common base is reddish,
supporting small yellow tuljcrclcs, which divide at the
summit into a circular opening, the margin furnished with
fine teeth. Powder yellowish-orange. Found principally
in the spiiiig. ,

Genus XXVIII. Mucon. The plants of this genus
have a membranaceous globular or tufted receptacle, seat-
ed on a stem, at first watery and transparent, afterwards
opake, and full of naked powder, not mixed with filaments,
and but little cohering.

Mucor muccdo. Sower, tab. 378, fig. 6. This species,
which eveiy one knows, is coiTimon on all fermenting and
decaying vegetable or animal matter. The stalks are sim-
ple and slender, bearing upon their summits a globular
seed-vessel, at first while and transparent, afterwards brown
and opake. The seeds arc numerous, round, and greenisli
v/hile inclosed in the seed-vessel. This seed-vessel bursts
with an elastic force, as may be seen when viewing it un-
der the microscope.'

Genus XXIX. Licea. The fungi here referred to have
a sessile, membranaceous, brittle peridium, bursting in
various ways, and containing a powder without filaments.
They are destitute of a mcmljranaceous base.

Licea circumsissa. Sower, tab. 258. This plant is ses-
sile, rounded, and a little flattened. It opens irregularly
across, and contains a golden yellow powder, among which
one or two filaments may be discerned with difficulty. It
grows at the end of autumn on dead wood.

Genus XXX. Tubulina. The plants of this genus
possess a membrane which supports many sessile peri-
diums, which are generally cylindrical. The powder is
destitute of filaments.

Tubulina cyhndracca. Bull. tab. 470, fig. 3. The peri-
diums are sessile, and rest upon a white obvious mem-
brane: They are cylindrical and lengthened, and termi-
nate in an obtuse point, of a rusty brown colour, with a
while point. These burst irregularly towards the upper
end, and allow the rusty brown powder to escape. This
plant grows upon moist dead wood.

Family III. Peridium membranaceous, filled ivit/i Pow-
der, intermingled nvith Seeds.

Gexus XXXI. Triciiia. The pcridiums of this genus
are sessile or pedunculated, supported upon a membrane,
■which is very apparent in the young state of the plant.
These inclose the filaments, which are attached to a stem,
or to the partitions of the peridium, and support numerous
pulverulent globules. They are divided into several sec-
tions, which might with propriety be constituted into ge-
nera.

Sect. 1. Peridium ovoid, sji/ierical, sessile, or peduncu-
lated, bursting irregularly. These form the Sjiherocarjius
of BulUard. Trichia turbinala. Bull. lab. 481, fig. 1 . The
base is white, membranaceous, and very apparent ; the
stems are simple, smooth, slender, lengthened, cylindrical,
terminating in an orange-coloured peridium, at first in the
form of a rounded tuft, afterwards as if truncated, and final-
ly concave at the summit; at which lime it miglit be taken
for a Peziza, if the interior of the peridium were not filled
■Nvith long-haired network, covered with a greyish-red pow-
der. It grows on dead wood.

Sect. 2. Peridium bursting in such a manner as to form
a persisting calyx on the summit of the stalk. This is the
.4rcyria of Pcrsoo7i. Trichia nutans. Sower, tab. 260. The
base consists of a white coriaceous membrane, supporting

the little fungi ; the peridium is lengthened, becoming cy-
lindrical, and at the same time decaying at the top, leaving
at liberty the powder and the filaments. It grows upon
dead wood.

Sect. 3. Peridium destroyed in whole or in fiart, in such
a 7nanner as to leave anastomosing nerves, through which the
Jionvder issues. The Crebraria of Persoon. Trichia semi-
cuncellata. Sower, tab. 400. fig. 5. The base is a coria-
ceous white membrane, supporting numerous stalks, which
are simple, striated, of a brownish-black colour, wpering
towards the summit, straight, or leaning in old age. The
peridium is globular at first, opake, of a fine yellow be-
fore and reddish after the emission of the seeds. The lower
part is membranaceous, and persisting in the form of a den-
ticulated calyx; the upper pail is formed of fibres, dispos-
ed in a net-work, vanishing after the emission of the pow-
der, which is yellow.

Genl's XXXII. Srr.MONiTEs. The jjlants of this genus
are usually inserted upon a membrane in groups ; the pc-
ridiums arc pedunculated, and traversed by an axis, which
consists of a lenglliening of liic ijeduncle.

Utemonites tyjihoidcs. Sower, tab. 50. The wiiilc mein-
brane of the common base supports a number of slender
stalks, which traverse the pei idiuin, and remain after the
escape of the powder. The peridium is cylindrical, soft,
of a milk-white colour when young, but becoming black
afterwards. It bursts laterally in many places, and throws
out a brown powder. It grows during the summer on rot-
ten trunks of trees.

Genls XXXIII. DiDERMA. In tliis gcnus many iudlvi-

■ duals arise from a common membr^ine, having a peridium

with a double covering, containing powder intermingled

with filaments. This genus bears the same relation to the

Trichia as the Geastrurn does to the Lycoperdon.

Didirma fioriforme. Bull. tab. 371. This plant is alto-
gether of a coriaceous consistence, and of a pale yellow co-
lour. The base consists of a thick oljvious membrane,
supporting many slender, smooth, cylindrical stalks, with
a globular smooth head. At length the outer bark opens
into five or six unequal rays, exposing a true peridium,
pear-shaped, wrinkled, and permanent, bursting irregular-
ly, and emiltins!; a brownish-coloured powder.

Genus XXXIV. Reticularia. This genus consists
of plants, which are at first pulpy, shapeless, and soft.
Internally they present cells full of powder, forming a kind
of slender net-work ; finally, they are reduced into a fine
powder.

Reticularia hortcnsis. Sower, tab. 399. This is common
on tan in hot-houses. It at first appears to ferment as it
were in a kind of whitish froth, in a few hours becoming
yellowish, and seemingly mixed with a powder; at length
it grov/s fragile, flattens, and assumes a lightish brown co-
lour on the outside, being replete with dark powder, or
seeds in irregular divisions within ; after which it soon falls
to pieces. In the fresh slate it smells not unlike rotten
clieese.

Genus'XXXV. Spumaria. The plants of this genus
resemble the preceding, but their pulp conceals coriaceous
and membranaceous cases, inclosing the seeds.

Sfiumaria mucilago. Sower, tab. 280. This plant is of
a white colour, soft, and flaky like scum. Internally the
coriaceous cases are shaped like coral, and inclose a
black powder. It dries up quickly, and by the touch is
reduced to powder, nothing remaining but the black cases.
It grows upon the stalks and leaves of dead and living
plants.

Genus XXXVI. Leucogalia. In this genus the pe-
ridium is membranaceous, rounded, and filled while young

FUNGI.

517

with a liquid pulpy mass, afterwards changed into a pow-
der mixed wiih a few filaments. This peridium opens in
a regular manner at the sides, or on Uie suniniit.

Leucogalia arfff7i!ea. Sower, tub. 272. This plant is
sessile, or prolonged at the base into a very sliorl pedun-
cle. Its form approaclics to splicrical ; its colour is while
when joung, allcrwards it turns red or Ijrown. The pulp
changes into a powiler, at first i!;rcy, afterwards rust co-
loured, and at last brown. The seed-vessel bursts at the
side. This species throws solitary, on putrid trunks, in
autumn.

Genus XXXVII. LvforKKnoN. Tlie plants of this gc-
luis are composed of a jicridiuni generally globular, solid
when young, witli whitish close ilcsli, changing into a pow-
der intermingled with filaitients. At maturity it opens at
the summit, in a maimer more or less regular. Several
species of this genus arc so well known in this country by
the name of Puff-bails, as to render any farther description
uimecessary.

Genus XXXVIII. Geastrum. The plants of this ge-
nus are globular at first, then the external covering opens
at the top, and divides into many rays, curling backwards,
and raising the peridium on a vaulted pedestal. The pe-
ridium is globular, and opens at the summit by an orifice
bordered by fading hairs. The inside is full of brown pow-
der, intermingled with filaments, dispersed, and indistinct.
The external covering is coriaceous and thick, the internal
is membranaceous ; between these there is sometimes found
a fugaceous wrapper.

Geastrum hygrojnetricum. Sower, tab. SO. The exter-
nal covering is of a chesnut colour, divided into five or six
nearly equal rays, which arc bent backwards. The pe-
ridium is spherical and sessile, mouth ciliated, and usually
bordered with a circle of a paler colour. For a more mi-
nute account of the species of this genus, the reader is
referred to an excellent paper of Mr Woodward's on the
stellated Lycoperdons, in the Linn, Trans, vol. ii. p. 32 —
C2.

Genus XXXIX. Tulostoma. The peridium is solid,
globular, fleshy, white, and becomes converted into a fine
powder, intermingled with fine filaments. It is supported
on a cylindrical stalk, hollow throughout, having an open-
ing at the top, with a cartilaginous border.

Tulostoma brumalc. Bull. tab. 294, and 471. fig. 2. This
plant is of a white colour, the stem is cylindrical, general-
ly glabrous, sometimes imbricated; peridium globular,
opening at the summit by a round orifice, which is flat, or
a little prominent. It grov/s in sandy grounds in winter,
and in the beginning of spring.

Family IV. Peridium membranaceous or Jicsby, and with-
out powder.

Genus XL. Cyathus. The fungi of this genus con-
sist of little cups, the orifice of which, at first, is vested
with a membrane, and the inside filled with a viscid lim-
pid juice; afterwards the membrane bursts, the liquid eva-
porates, and there remain in the bottom of the cup from
three to five lenticular capsules, adhering to the base by a
slender filament, and filled with jelly, in which grains are
observed, supposed to be seeds.

Cyathus striatus. .N'idularia striata of Sower, tab. 29.
This plant is conical, woolly on the outside, and scored
within. The capsules are smooth above and woolly be-
neath. It grows on the ground, and on rotten wood.

Genus XLI. Stictis. This genus exhibits little mem-
branaceous cups, half way inserted into the barks of trees,
full of a substance not powdery, inclosing the seeds; these
are closed when young, but open afterwards into a cup.

Stictis immersa. Pczr,a immersaoi ^owtY. tab. 369. fig.
'.). This little fungus is wholly black, sometimes a little
woolly on the underside. It forms holes in the wood on
which it grows.

GEiNus XLII. Pii.oBOLUS. In this genus the recepta-
cle is thread-like, widening at top into a vesicle filled with
water, at the summit of which there is found a fleshy sub-
stance, supposed to contain the seeds in the inside.

Pilobolus iirccolatus. Sower. 300. This curious ])ro-
duction may be found on horse dung, in damp or dewy
mornings or e\enings, almost all the year. At first it is
cylindrical, with a small yellow head. In a few hours the
stipes infiates towards the top, and becomes |)itchcr-shaped,
and at the same lime the head gradually changes brown,
by degrees becoming totally black. Tlic plant being ar-
rived at perfection by its inflation or expansion, it bursts,
and projects the head to the distance of three or more
inches, probably to disperse the seed.

Genus XLIII. Thelebolus. Receptacle cortical, glo-
bular, entire at the margin, when young inclosing a vesicle,
which afterwards pushes out, containing a great many
loose capsules, lengthened, pointed, and filled wilh seeds.

Thelebolus hirsutus. This species grows upon the bark
of living trees, forming a greyish membranaceous base
supporting many small globular heads, with a rounded ori-
fice at the top, by which the internal matter containing the
seeds escapes.

Genus XLIV. Erysiphe. The fungi here referred to
have a fleshy receptacle, containing many oval acute seed-
vessels, and surrounded with a white pulp prolonged into
many articulated simple or branched rays. These grow
upon the living leaves. The receptacles of all the known
species are at first yellow, then red, and at last black ; the
extension of the base is always white, often coveting the
leaves with a retiform membrane or powder.

Prysifihe fraxini. Miicor erysifihe of Linn. This plant
grows on the inferior surface of the leaves of the common
ash, forming at first a thin while crust, which afterwards
supports small tubercles, at first yellow, then orange, brown,
and at last black ; these are bordered wilh seven or eight
pointed hairs, swollen at the base. These hairs are at first
upright, then they become horizontal, and finally are obli-
terated.

Genus XLV. Tubeuculauia. The plants ofthis ge-
nus present merely a fleshy sessile tubercle, simple or com-
posite, the seeds contained in a thick liquid in the inside.
They grow upon the bark of trees and certain plants, and
are all remarkable for their red colour.

Tubercularia vulgaris. Bull. tab. 2S4. This plant is not
absolutely without a stem, but the stem is very short, and
nearly as thick at the top, entering into the substance of the
bark on which it grows. In some specimens the top part
is of a full vermilion, and the lower part of a yellowish co-
lour. In other specimens ihis order of colour is reversed.
It is common in this latter variety to find young shoots
growing up close to the stem of the older plants, the heads
of which have the full vermilion colour. It varies from
the size of a pin's head to that of hemp-seed. It is found
plentifully on pieces of half rotten slicks in the autumn.

Genus XLVI. Sci.erotiujM. The sclerotia present
merely a hard bark or covering of a more or less compact
fleshy substance, without visible veins, in which the seeds
are supposed to be nestled. They difi"er from the genus
Tuber in the absence of veins, and from Tubercularia in
the n^sh being firmer, and the bark more coriaceous. They
are the productions of spi ing.

Sclerotium durum. Pcrs. Syn. 121. This grows between
the bark and the wood, upon the dry stalks of herbs and
shrubs. It is oblong or oval, a little flattened, and of a

518

FUNG [

black colour. Tlie s\il)Stnnce is fjnii and hard, and in tlie
iiilifivir llie flcsli is while and coiiactuus.

Gems XLVII. Tuhkk. The plants of this genus are
flcsiiy, roiiid, subterraiicdus, solid, nol becomini; powdery,
nor op(:nini;; at the top, but containing veins in various tli-
lections. By LJnnaeus they were united with the lycoperdons.

Tit b <r ci barium. Sower, tab. 309. 7'n/j^.'?*, as the plants
of this species are called in England, are globular, seldom
the size of a hen's egg, wiiliout Jiiy root, and of a dark co-
lour approacliing to biackntss. The surface is uneven and
rough ; the fltsh fiiin, white while young, but when old it
becomes black, with whitish veins.

Having thus concluded our proposed review of the dif-
ferent genera of Fungi, it may be proper here to remaik,
that under the term Hyfoxvi-a, which we have added as
an ,^ppcnchx to the present article, the reader will find
some oi those genera described, which he probably expect-
ed to meet with tnider the title Fungi. Such as the genus
Rhizomorpha of Rothes, and that extensive genus, or ra-
ther tribe of plants, the Sphaeria of Linnaeus.

Before proceeding to offer some remarks on the physio-
logy of the Fungi, it may be pro|)cr to state the methods
which have been employed for the purpose of preserving
them in a fit state for subsequent inspection and compari-
son. The difficulty, indeed, of preserving such soft and
perishable objects has always been fomid one of the most
foiuiidable obstacles to the study. Dr Withering, to whom
the British botanist lies under so many obligations, after a
long continued attention to the sul)jecl, discovered the fol-
lowing method, which he found to answer the purpose.
Take two ounces of vitriol of copper, (sulphat of copper,)
reduced to powder ; pour upon it about a tea cup of cold
water, stir them with a piece of stick or quill for about a
minute, then pour off the water and throw it away. On the
reniaining vitriol pour a pint of boiling water, anti when the
vhole is dissolved and grown cool, adil to it half a pint of
rectified spirit of wine; filtre it tliiough paper; keep it in
a bottle closely corked, and call it the pickle. To eight
1 ints of pure spring water, add a pint and a half of rectified
spirit of wine ; keep this in corked bottles, and call it the
wronger li(]Uor. 'I'o eight pints more water, add one pint
of spirit of wnie, and call it the iveaker li(|Uor. Be provided
with a number of wideinouthed glass jars of various sizes,
capable of holding from two ounces to two pints, ai. very
well fitted with corks.

Whatever fungus, whether Agaric or Boletus, &c. you
V ish to preserve, should be sufl'ered to lie upon your table
as long as it can be trusted without dangvr of its decaying,
so as to a-low some part of its moisture to evaporate ; the
thick and fleshy plants should lie the longest, but the deli-
quescent ones, and those which are very thin and delicate,
s lould he put into pickle almost immediately after they are
gathered.

Pour some of the pickle into a square jar, and into this
imnieise the specimens to be preserved. The specimens
s lOuld remain in the pickle from three houis to three days,
according to their bulk and fleshiness. Tlien remove each
specinien into the jar in which it is to be kept, suitmg the
sze of the jjrs to the size of the specimens. If they are
of the large, juicy and fleshy kind, fill up the jar with the
s'rong-cT liquor, but the weaker will suffice for the smaller
a!)d lliinner plants. Whichever liquor be used, the jar
n^ust be quite filled with it, and immediately corked very
tigiit. Cover the cork and the top of the jar with Venice
turpentine, by means of a palmer's brush, and then tie a
piece of welted bladder very tight over tlie top of the jar.
These precautions are necessary to prevent the access of
air and the evapoioiion ol the liquor, because, if either of

these happen, the specimens will soon be spoiled. The
Boleli are in general more dillicult to preserve than the
Agarics, and such of either as abound with a miiky juice
are apt to foul the liquor, which must then be changed.
Mosses and Licheiis may be |)reserved in great pertection
by this method ol pickling. But we must adri, that a col-
lection formed in this manner will be both bulky and ex-
pensive.

Another method, still more simple, has sometimes been
practised, namely, to dry them in a stove of clean sand mo-
derately heated. Almost all the coriaceous agaiics may in
this manner be preserved with ease, so as to exhibit not
only their form, but also in a great degree their colour.
The sand must be fine, clean, and diy, and poured into the
dish with care, observing to fill the s|)aces between the
gills gently with the sand, without bruising tiieni or alter-
ing their posiiion.

But a vast nundscr of the fungi noticed above cannot be
preserved by any of those methods which we have detailed.
Many of them consist almost entirely of water, so as to be
incajjable of drying without total destruction, while the cha-
racters of others depend so much upon the colour, and at
the same time are of a substance so fugaceous, that no li-
quor can preserve their delicate lints, or their still frailer
forms, ilence the mycologist must employ his pen to de-
scribe, and his pencil to copy these productions, whose clia-
racters he investigates, otherwise his conceptions of tlie
species will be both obscure and indeterminate.

In addition we may mention, that agarics may be trans-
ported to almost any distance, with little damage, by the fol-
lowing method. Put them into an earthen jar upon a layer
of moss a little pressed down ; cover them witli more moss,
carefully filling up the interstices; and then go on stratify-
ing them until the jar be quite full ; pour in the pickie
above described as long as the moss will continue to imbibe
any, then slop the mouth of the jar securely. It may be
useful to observe, that when several species are put into
one jar, ihey may be labelled with slips of card paper writ-
ten with a black lead pencil.

In attending to the physiology of this intricate class of
vegetables, there is no circumstance in their histoiy more
surprising than the lapidity of their growth. The space
which intervenes between their germination and maturity
is seldom more than a few days, or at most a lew weeks,
and in many cases a few hours only are required. Wither-
ing relates, that a young plant of the Agaiicus cyliiidricus
put into water, and covered with a glass bell, grew three
inches and a quarter in twelve hours. Sowerby, when de-
scribing the Phallus caiiinus, says, " I have oilen piaced
specimens by a window, over night, while in t/ie egg ibrm,
and they have been fully grown by the morning," and he
adds, " they have never grown with me in the day time."
The absence of light, indeed, to this tribe of plants, does not
seem so prejudicial, as it does to the staincniterous vege-
tables. Some of them live under the ground, others in the
recesses of ca\es and in dark cellars.

In regard to situation, the fungi present many remarka-
ble differences. A few grow upon the ground, and seim
to derive their nourishment from the soil. Others spring
upon the various putrid substances presented by nature or
an. Rotten fruit, cheese, meat, dung, are all destined to
support particular species of fungi. But these parasites
are not confined to dead plants and putrid matters, other-
wise we might consider them like the Sit/thidt-s among the
insects, and style them nature's scaftingeis. But they like
wise attack livina; vegetables. Tiiey presunie not to infest
animal matter untif the spark of vitality has fled ; but they
prey upon the very juices of vegetables, seat tliemselvts

1 l]N(U.

5iy

fin the slalks, llic leaves, and the llowcis, and occasion their
siintccl t;i<)wlh and decay. Sunu- are peculiar to one plant,
wliile otntrs infest the tbliaije of several jilants, provided
in i^eneial tliey heiong- to tlie same natural family. I'liey
make their appearance in pastures and corn-tields, on way
sides, in marshes, and in woods. In one season, you may
observe multitudes rising- in a particular spot, where none
will he found in the sui>sei|uent season. So uncertain arc
they in their i;;rowth, tlial it is nol likely they will ever enter
into the composition of ornamental gaidcninsj. We are
told by Gleditsch, that morels are observed to grow in the
wdods of Germany in the greatest plenty, in those places
where charcoal has been made. Hence tlie good women
who collect them to sell, receiving a bint hovv to encou-
rage their growth, have been accustomed to make fires in
certain places of the woods, with heath, broom, and other
materials, in order to obtain a more plentiful crop. This
strange method of cultivating morels being, however, some-
times attended with dreatlful consequences, large woods
having been set on fire and destroyed by it, the magistrate
thought fit to interpose his authority, and the practice is
now interdicted. We may add, that the beautiful little
moss called the Dicranum purpurcum makes its ajipear-
ance in precisely similar situations.

We cannot take leave of this part of the subject, without
stating to our readers the following observations, which
were made by that eminent naturalist, the late George
Montagu, Esq. on a Scaup duck, wliich c »me into his pos-
session, and which died a few days after. — " The cause of
death" (says he) " appeared to be in the luni;^, and in the
membrane that separates them from the other viscera ; this
last was much thickened, and all the cavity within was co-
vered with mucor, or blue mould. It is a most curious cir-
cumstance to find this vegetable production growing within
a living animal, and shews, that where air is pervious
mould will be found to obtain, if it meets with suflicient
moisture, and a place congenial to vegetation. Now the
fact is, that the part on which this vegetable was growing
was decayed, and had no longer within itself a living prin-
ciple ; the dead part therefore became the proper pabulum
of the invisible seeds of the mucor transmitted by the air in
respiration; and thus nature carries on all her works im-
mutably, under every possible variation of circumstance.
It would indeed be impossible for such to vegetate on a
living body, being incoinpatible with vitality ; and we may
be assured that decay must take place before this minute
vegetable can make a lodgement to aid in the great change
of decomposition. Even with inanimate bodies, the appear-
ance of mould or any species of Fungi is a sure presage of
partial decay and decomposition." Ornilh. Diet. sup. Duck
Scaup.

But the most uncommon circumstance in the mode of
growth of the fungi remains to be mentioned, and is their
disposition to grow in circles. Many of the Agarics, for
example, are solitary, while others are uniformly grega-
rious. Those of the last kind frequently rise up in a some-
what regular manner, and form circles more or less com-
plete. These circles for a long time perplexed the natu-
ralist, ever more anxious to employ singular and uncom-
mon agents in accounting for the phenoinena of nature, than
to trace the various steps of the process by the slow but
certain road of fact and observation. For an account of the
various hypothesis which have been formed, in order to ac-
count for these circles, or fairy rings as they are called, see
the article Fairy Rings. Before, however, dismissing the
subject, we must remark, that the disposition to assume re-
gular figures in the course of vegetation, does not seem pe-
culiai to the fungi. Every peraon at all acquainted with

the lichens, must have observed similar appearances of a
circular growth in many of tlie crustaceous species. Aiifl
no one who has ever traversed the sandy downs of a sea-
shore, can have failed to remark the lineal giowth of the
Carex arenaria, riaming under the sand and prijtmdii.g is
stalk in a straight liix;, as if planted by a skilful gaidener,
H')v cnteful, tnerelbre, siiould we be to prclcr oljstrvation
to conjecture, and fact to In pothesis.

The season of the year in wich tin- liingi appear most lui-
mcrous is towards the end of auiuinn and beginning of win-
ter. They observe paniculu- seasons of llicytarin which
to rise with as much regularity as the more perfect pbr.f^,
and hence some of the sprciis naturclly allied may with
tolerable certainty be discriminated. The Agaricus Geor-
gii, which is founil in Essex inconsiderable quaiitities, and
collected fur the London market, is known by the name of
Si George's mushroom, because they usually spring up in
greatest quantities about St George's day.

The fungi exhibit some of the finest colours of the vege-
table kingdom. In the coloured drawings of the more per-
fect plants, the artist is sometimes too profuse in tints,
and the figures exhibit a gaudy aspect ; but in the colour-
ing of figures of the fungi, he need be under little appre-
hension of committing excess. Nature having withheld
from this portion of her plants those fioweis which form the
chief beauties of the higher orders, and even the leaves
with which they are clotiied, has profusely scattered her
colours over the whole surface of the mushrooms, orna-
menting the cap with one colour, the gills with a second,
and the stem with a third. Let but the lover of natural
beauty free his mind from prejudice, and then examine the
forms and colouring of the fungi, and he will be compelled
to admit, that many of them rival in symmetry and splen-
dour, the rose and the lily, those gaudy ornaments of Flora.

In general the fungi emit scarcely any smell, and appear
entirely destitute of any volatile panicles; or they possess
a cadaverous smell, which renders them exceedingly offen-
sive. A few, however, emit effluvia by no means disa-
greeable, nay, in some instances remarkably i)lcasant.
Thus the Agaricus pratensis diffuses an agreeable odour
like almond kernels. The Agaricus fragraiis powerfully
sends forth the pleasant smell of new mown hay, similar
to the Anthoxanthum odoratum. While these odours please
the sense of smell, others are by no means so agreeable,
as Agaricus murinus, which smells like mice; and in this
respect resemliles the Cynoglossum vulgare. It is impos-
sible for us to drtcritiine what important purpose in the
economy of the fungi the scent which they emit serves ;
but in some cases it is most destructive to the animal crea-
tion. Thus in the case of the Phallus impudicus, the foetid
cadaverous odour which it emits allures multitudes of flies
to light upon its cap, where they are entangled by the slimv
matter with which that organ is so plenti'ully supplied. In
this case, it is probable that the plant obtains some nourish-
ment from the decay of the flies to enable it to perfect its
seeds. Similar arrangements in the economy of nature have
been observed to prevail in the higher orders of vegetables,
as in the Drosera rottindifolia, or common sundew, frequent
on our turf bogs. The Laplanders burn some of the Boleli
about their habitations ; and the smoke, as they think, drives
away a species of gadfly which is fatal to the young rein-
deer.

In respect to taste, the mushrooms present as remark-
able variations as they do in regard to smell. Many of them
are vapid and tasteless. OJiers, though by no means un-
pleasant in the mouth, leave a disagreeable roughness in
the throat. Thus the Agaricus aromaticus yields to the
tongue the agreeable coolness of peppermint; but leaves on

520

FUNGI.

the throat a ronghncss which remains for a considerable
time. This is ren)arkal)ly the case with almost all the
lactescent agarics.

Scarcely any two agarics agree in regard to substance.
Some are replete witiia watery tUiid, wlule others are dry
and coriaceous. Some decay and witiier into a substance
like leather ; whereas others either deliquesce into a black
atranientous liquor, or are changed into a powder easily
dispersed.

The investigations of the chemist have scarcely been
extended to tiiis tribe of vegetables, although ample en-
couragement be given, by their external properties, to ex-
pect some new substances. When exposed to the destruc-
tive distillation, they yield the ordinary products of vege-
tables, together with a quantity of ammonia, indicating the
existence of some ingredients nearly related to the animal
kingdom. They leave but a scanty residuum of charcoal ;
and the earthy and saline contents of the ashes have never
been examined with care. Dr Scott of Dublin was the first
who detected oxalic acid in nearly a pure form, in a young
plant of Uoletus sulphurcus, which he found about the mid-
dle of August, on the trunks of an old decaying cherry tree.
Having preserved a specimen, he, after some time, found a
singular crystallization on the upper surface, and which he
observed to have ruptured the investing coats of that sur-
face. These needle-like crystals were formed on the fun-
gus, in consequence of its drying only, as none were obser-
vable while it remained on the tree. That they were pure
oxalic acid, or at least combined with a very small portion
of vegetable fixed alkali, wns evident from the taste, anrl
by the tests of solutions of lime and barytes. This fungus,
alter being freed from the saline matter, was distilled in an
earthen retort, during which a quantity of watery Huid came
over, a thick tar-like extractive matter, carbonic acid gas,
carbonated hydrogenous gas, and lastly hydrogenous gas.
It was not observed whether azotic gas was among the
iirst products; but it probably was, as the watery fluid
■which came over in distillation contained ammonia, which
appeared by the odour, and the fumes that were exhibited
on holding a pajjer moistened with diluted muriatic acid
Over a mixture of the former with quicklime. The coaly
residuum, when burnt in the open air, afforded by lixivia-
tion some vegetable fixed alkali. " That the oxalic acid"
(says Dr Scott) "is produced or evolved in the course of
vegetation, in many plants of the higher ranks, is well
known ; but that it should be found in any of the fungus
tribe, (which have hitherto been supposed to produce only
an ammoniacal salt, and on that account considered as a
link between vegetables and animals,) is a curious and I
believe an isolated fact. How far the production of oxalic
acid in this fungus might depend on its place of growth, or
soil as it maybe termed, I cannot say, but it is worth while
to repeat the observation on other fungi similarly situated."
J^inn. Trans, vol. viii. p. 262.

The odour of some of the fungi, particularly the Aga-
I'icus pratensis, would dispose us to expect to find prussic
acid as a part of its composition ; but the experiment has
never been tried. We recommend it, however, to those
who have leisure and favourabJe opportunities.

Few of the mushrooms have been subjected to a regu-
lar chemical analysis. Dr Lister, so far back as 1672,
published in the Philosophical Transactions, an account of
his experiments on the Agaricus piperatus. He found it
to yield a milky juice, with a taste hotter than pepper, not
discoloured by exposure to the air, nor by the blade of a
knife. This juice speedily coagulated when keptinaglass
vessel, but did not lose its hot taste. Trommsdorf {^Ann.
de Ckiin. vol. xxii.) afterwards examined the same plant,

and besides the acrid mailer which Lister had observed, and
which is well known, he found il to yield a considei'able
quantity of albumen. It also yielded by distillation a con-
siderable <|uanlity of carbonate of ammonia.

It is to Uuillon la Ci range that we are indebted for the
most accurate set of ex|)eriments on three kinds of mush-
rooms, which may serve to give us a correct idea of the
composition of the tribe.

The Tuber ci6«»vu;H, which we have described above, well
known in ISrilain by the name oi truffles, was grated down
small, and then washed with water upon a scarce, till the
liquid ceased to carry off any thing. A blackish fibrous
matter remained upon the searce. The liquid let fall a
brown coloured matter when left at rest. It produced no
effect upon vegetable blues. The brown deposite does not
resemble starch in its properties. Water produces but
little effect upon irufllles. Warm water, however, dis-
solves a portion, which possesses the characters of albu-
men.

When the plant was treated with nitric acid, a solution was
accomplished ; nitrous gas, carbonic acid, and azotic gas
were disengaged; and the solution by distillation, yielded
a liquor containing prussic acid. The residual liquid yield-
ed bitter principle, an oily matter, and small crystals, which
IJuillon la Grange considered as a combination of oxalic
acid and bitter principle. He suspected also the presence
of malic acid.

Alcohol dissolves a small portion of a brownish bitter
matter, which acquires the properties of resin by exposure
to the atmosphere. When truffles are left in the state of
a paste with water, they acquire the smell of cheese. When
mixed with sugar and water, they undergo fermentation,
carbonic acid is disengaged, and alcohol formed.

When distilled, truffles are found to yield an acid liquid,
a black oil, carbonate of ammonia, carbonic acid, and car-
bonated hydrogen. The charcoal contains magnesia, phos-
phate of lime, iron and silica. See Ann. de Chim. vol.
xlvi.

Boletus laricis. This plant in a dry state is used on the
continent as a medicine, and sold under the name of Agaric.
It is in pieces, which are white, light and friable. The outer
skin is leathery, and dark coloured. Its taste is at first
sweetish, but leaves a bitter and acrid impression in the
mouth. When steeped in water, it communicates a yel-
lowish colour and a sweetish taste to the liquid. The in-
fusion reddens vegetable blues; and holds in solution sul-
phate of potash, sulphate of lime, and muriate of potash.

When this substance is boiled in water, the liquid ac-
quires a gelatinous form as it cools. Evaporated to dry-
ness, and treated with lime, the odour of ammonia becomes
perceptible. Alcohol boiled upon the boletus acquires a
red colour, and when mixed with water lets fall a copious
precipitate, which exhibits the properties of a resin. This
resin has a yellow colour, is brittle, semitransparent, and
has a sour and bitter taste. When treated with lime, and
the solution afterwards decomposed with mtiriatic acid, a
quantity of benzoic acid is obtaii>ed from it. From these
experiments, it is evident that this substance contains resin,
benzoic acid, different salts, some extractive, and some ani-
mal matter, to which the gelatinous form of the decoction
must be ascribed.

Sulphuric acid dissolves and rapidly chars the boletus.
Nitric acid acts with energy, nitrous gas is disengaged, and
the boletus becomes brown. By continuing the action of
the acid, crystals of oxalic acid are obtained ; malic acid is
likewise formed, together with some resin, and a substance
which approaches the nature of wax in its properties. The
fixed alkalies give it a red colour, render it gelatinous, anJ

FUNGI.

521

a great quantity of ammonia is discngagetl. Sec Ann. dc
Chim. vol. 11.

BoUtUH i^7uar'M!i of Rrilish aiilliors, is not uncommon in
this country on tlie trunks of Irt'cs. Wlien boiied in water,
tlie liquid acquires a deep Ijiown colovH', and a slii^hily as-
tringent taste. It lioldsin solution sulphate of lime and mu-
riate of potash. When evaporated to dryness, it leaves a
brown coloured extract, which attracts moisture from the
atmosphere. This substance wiicn incinerated kit a while
ash, containing a considerable portion of potash; and when
dissolved in water, exhibited by rc-agents the presence of
lime and of muriatic and sulphuric acids. The residnai
portion of tlie boletus being calcined, was found to contain
phosphates of lime and magnesia, and some iron.

Alcohol has scarcely any action on this boletus ; but
when assisted by heat, it dissolves a small portion of resin.
Nitric acid dissolves it readily ; malic and oxalic acids are
formed, and probably also a portion of bitter ])rinciple, while
carbonic acid and nitrous gas arc disengaged. Alkaline
leys dissolve it with difHculty, forming however a soapy li-
quid, and separating a small portion of ammonia. From
these experiments we learn, that this boletus differs in ma-
ny respects from the preceding. It contains much less re-
sin, and a much smaller proportion of animal matter, and
yields no traces of benzoic acid. Sec Aim. dt Chim. vol. liv.

Little more was done by chemists towards bringing into
notice the composition of mushrooms, until M. Braconnot
directed his attention to this curious tribe of plants, and suc-
ceeded in making us acquainted with the properties of two
new combinations; to the one he gave the name o^fungin,
and the other he called bcteiic acid. The one is represent-
ed by the solid matter of the plants, the other constitutes
the chief ingredient of its juices.

Fungin may be obtained pure, by boiling it in a weak al-
kaline solution. In that state it is whitish, soft, insipid, pos-
sesses little elasticity, and readily yields to the teeth. It
would appear, that fungin thus purified tnay be used as an
article of food, from what mushroom soever it has been ob-
tained. The poisonous qualities of mushrooms, it would
seem, reside in the juices, not in the fungin. This sub-
stance, when dried, burns with considerable splendour,
emitting an odour similar to that of burning bread, and
leaving behind it a white ash. Dried fungin, when distilled
in a retort, yields about half its weight of a liquid product,
consisting partly of a brown oil, and partly of water, holding
a good deaLof anmionia in solution. It yields no acid, which
distinguishes it very much from wood. The charcoal re-
maining in the retort, amounts to rather more than one-
fourth of the di led fungin subjected to distillation. This
charcoal exhibited traces of sulphurctcd hydrogen, and con-
tained sand, phosphate of lime, and traces of carbonate of
lime, and phosphate of alumina.

Fungin does not dissolve in alkaline solutions, in which
respect it diifers essentially from lignin, which is readily
dissolved by a weak alkali ; but if fungin be boiled in a
very strong alkaline ley, it is partly dissolved, and a sa])o-
naccous product obtained. Aninjoiiia dissolves a small p(jr-
tion of fungin, and lets it fall again in white flocks, wlien
exposed to the air.

Weak sulphuric acid has no action on fungin ; but when
concentrated, this acid chars it, and at the same time sul-
phurous acid and vinegar aie formed. Muriatic acid dis-
solves it very slowly, and converts it into a gelatinous mat-
ter. It is thrown down in flocks, by the addition of potash
to the acid. Chlorine passed over dry fungin suspended
in water, converts it into a yellow matter, having at fust an
acrid taste, which it gradually "loses by esriiosure to the

When digested in diluted nitric acid, azotic gas is dis-
Voi,. IX. Paut II.

engagcfl. Heated with concentrated nitric acid, it swells
and ctlervcsccs at first violently, but the action soon sub-
sides. When the acid is driven olT, there remains a liquor
containing oxalate of lime, some pi'ussic acid, and two fatty
matters, the most abundant similar to tallow, the other to
wax. By evaporating the liciuid, a considerable quantity
of oxalic acid in crystals was obtained. The mother water
still contained oxalic acid, and a portion of the bitter prin-
ciple li'om indigo.

^Vhen fuagin is steeped in an infusion of nut galls, it im-
bibes a co!^leral)le portion of the tannin, and acquires a
fawn colour. When left to putrefy spontaneously in water,
it emitted first the odour of putrefying gluten, then that of
putiid meat. Neither acid nor ammonia was found in the
water; but it contained a portion of mucilage, which gave
it viscosity, and the property of precipitating with acetate
of lead. The fungin itself assumed the aspect of gluten,
without however possessing its properties.

The other substance which we have to notice is the bole-
tic acid, which M. Braconnot obtained from the juice of the
Boletus pseudo igniarius, by the following process. The
juice was boiled, filtered, and evaporated cautiously to the
consistence of a syrup. This syrup was repeatedly digest-
ed in alcohol, the insolidjle portion was dissolved in water,
and precipitated by nitrate of lead. The white precipitate
thus obtained was mixed with water, and decomposed by
sulphuretcd hydrogen gas. The water being now evapora-
ted, yields numerous crystals, wiiich constitute bolctic acid,
the properties of which are as follow :

When purified by solution in alcohol and crystallization,
it is white, not altered by exposure to the air, and consists
in irregular four-sided prisms. Its taste is similar to that
of tartar. It requires 180 times its weight of water to dis-
solve it at the temperature of 68°. It is soluble in 45 times
its weight of alcohol.

The aqueous solution reddens vegetable blues. Nitrate
of lead occasions a precipitate in it, which is re-dissolved by
ai^itation. It precipitates the red oxide of iron completely
from its solutions in the form of rust coloured flocks ; but
it does not throw down the black oxide of this metal. It
precipitates nitrate of silver in the state of a white powder,
which is soluble in nitric acid. Nitrate of mercury is pre-
cipitated in the same state, but the solution dissolves with
difficulty in nitric acid. Neither lime nor barytes water pro-
duce any effect upon the aqueous solution of this acid.

When boletic acid is heated, it rises in white vapours,
which irritate the throat, and condense on surrounding bo-
dies in the form of a farinaceous powder. When distilled,
the greatest part of it sublimes unaltered, excepting that it
afterwards crystallizes more regularly. At tie same time
a little liquid appears, having a strong smell of acetic acid.

Boletate of a?rimonia is a salt which crystallizes in flat
fuui -sided prisms, and is soluble in 26 times its weight of
water at the temperature of 68°. Its taste is cooling, saline,
and somewhat sharp. When heated it melts, swells, and
stdjlimes. It precipitates red oxide of iron; but does not
alter sulphates of lime, alumiuLi, or manganese. It slowly
precipitates nitrate of copper in blue silky needles. Bole-
tale of jiotaah is very soluble in water, and crystallizes
with difficulty. Acids precipitate the boletic acid from it.
When boletic acid is heated with carbonate of lime, it
dissolves it with tfTervesrence. The boletate of lime crys-
tallizes in flat four-sidrd prisms. This salt has little taste,
and requires at least 1 10 limes its weightof water, atthe tem-
])rature of 72.5°, to dissolve it. It is decomposed by oxa-
lic and sulphuric acids. Boletate of barytes is an acidu-
lous salt in white plates, little soluble in water or nitric acid.
^\'hen thrown on red hot iron it burns rapidly, with a red
jiamc and striking scintillations, leaving lor residue Car-
S U

522

FUNGI.

bonate of barytcs. When boletic acid is heated with iron
filings and water, hydrogen gas is emitted, and a yellow
liquor is obtained with an inky tusle. Sec Ann. dc Cliim.
vol. Ixxx.

From the preceding account of the composition of mush-
rooms, it must strike the most careless reader, that in their
nature the fungi hold a middle rank between animals and ve-
getables, or, in other words, that they partake of the nature
of both. It was necessary to be ac<iuainted with tliis cir-
cumstance, before noticing an opinion concerning the ani-
mal nature of mushrooms, which has been suncTioned by the
authority of very respectable names.

It is well known that the zoophytes, or the various kinds
of corals and corallines, and sponges, were, by the older bo-
tanists, considered as belonging to the vegetable kingdom.
Scarcely had the conjectures of Peyssonell been rendered
probable by Trembley, and demonstrated as true by that
ornament of our country Ellis, and the animal nature of
those bodies established, than botanists began to suspect,
that they were swaying the sceptre over tribes which were
aliens in their kingdom. The zoophytes were thus removed
from them, and they anticipated a still farther reduction of
their subjects, in consequence of the mixed nature of the
fungi. A circumstance now took place in botanical opinion
■which we have often witnessed happen to other creeds.
Destroy the validity of one tenet, and you pave the way for
suspicions as to the soundness of the remainder. One class
of bodies formerly considered as plants, were now demon-
strated to be of an animal nature; and, led away by false
or imperfect analogies, other tribes of reputed vegetables
were considered as having equally strong claims to ad-
vancement in the scale of being. In particular, the fungi
were considered as having so near a resemblance to the
zoophytes in many respects, that Butner, Weiss, MuUer, and
Scopoli, gave it as their opinion^ that they possessed ani-
mality. This opinion has been generally rejected by bo-
tanists, as well as by zoologists. We pretend not to decide
the important question ; but we venture to assert, that the
claims of the fungi (many of them at least) to rank as
zoophytes, have never been substantially invalidated, and
we deem it an act of justice to state these claims.

By the aid of chemistry, the composition of the fungi
has in part been ascertained. The existence of albumen
has been demonstrated, and in their ashes the phosphoric
salts s^em to prevail. When burnt, they emit the odour of
burnt animal matter, and ammonia is disengaged. Wlien
they decay, they emit a fetid cadaverous scent, unlike the
i;utrescent remains of any other tribe of vegetable. Hence
it is that in the last stages of their existence they are fed
upon by those insects, which at other times resort to putrid
carcases. These are points of resemblance which we con-
sider as very remarkable. They lead us not to any posi-
tive general conclusion, although well calculated to raise
curiosity, and excite suspicion. But we have even more
to say upon this subject. In form and appearance, the re-
semblance between some of the zoophytes and the fungi is
complete. Compare, for example, the figure of the " Mu-
cor botrytes" of Sowerby, tab. 359, with the " Corallina
omnium minima, vesiculis nunc ramoruni, nunc racema-
tum, dense dispositis" of Ellis: Coral, lab. 13. no. 22. B.
So closely do they agree in form, that one drawing may
serve for both. Who is there acquainted with both classes
of beings, that does not perceive a resemblance between
the Pezizae and the cup-shaped sponges, and the Boleti and
Milleporae ? But to conclude ; upon what claim is the ge-
nus Corallina admitted to rank as a zoophyte ? Its calca-
reous substance causes it to approach the millepores, and
upon this ground it ranks it with the zoophytes. Why is
a sponge placed in the animal kingdom ? It contains albu-

men, so do the fungi ; when burnt it exhales an ammonia-

cal odour, so do the fvmgi. In short, the points of resem-
blance are so numerous, that the opinion of the anirnal na-
ture of mushrooms, though not proven, is still plausible.
Nature employs the zoophytes as the connecting link on
the one side, and the fungi on the other, for the purpose
of forming a union between the two kingdoms; but it is
impossible for us to ascertain with accuracy, the precise
point where animal life ends, and where vegetable life be-
gins. There is probably no such point, both kingdoms
being merely parts of one great whole.

It now remains that we consider the uses to which the
plants of this tribe have been applied, and the important
purposes which they serve in the economy of nature.

The Boletus igniarius of Withering has been highly re-
commended as a styptic, and various trials of its efficacy
have I)cen made, both in Britain and on the continent. It
is beaten out into soft square pieces, and is well known to
surgeons by the name of Agaric, or Agaric of the oak. It
has been much celebrated for stopping the bleeding of ar-
teries in amputations and wounds. But it has by no means
proved so successful as Brossard and some of its admirers
anticipated.

An excellent touch-wood is made from the same fungus,
in Germany. The upper rind is first pared off; it is then
boiled in a solution of saltpetre, and afterwards dried and
pounded with a hammer; it is then boiled a second time
in the same solution, and, after being dried, it is fit for use.

But the same Boletus is employed in a still more ex-
traordinary way in Franconia. In that circle of Germany,
as we are informed by Gleditsch, the inhabitants beat this
fungus into st[uare pieces, which resemble the softest lea-
ther, and sew them together in a curious manner into gar-
ments.

The Agaricus muscarius has been applied to as many
useful purposes nearly as the touchwood Boletus. In
Kamtschatka, the inhabitants prepare a liquor from an
infusion of this agaric, and the runners of the Efiilobium
angustifolium, which, taken in a small quantity, exhilarates
the spirits, but in a larger doze brings on trembling of the
nerves, intoxication, delirium and melancholy. When mix-
ed with milk, it kills flies, according to Linnarus; and the
same author also tells us, lluit the expressed juice rubbed
on walls and bedsteads, effectually expels bugs. The same
plant administered in dozes of from ten to thirty grains in
vinegar, is prescribed by Swediaur in cases of epilepsy
and palsy, subsequent to the drying up of eruptions. It
is also recommended to be sprinkled in powder on bad
ulcers and gangrenes.

There is a species of Boletus, termed by Linnajus sua-
veolens, which, as that author informs us, the Lapland
beaux carry in their pouches by way of perfume, and to
render their persons agreeable to their mistresses. It is
strange that among so simple a people, such a recommen-
dation should be found necessary, and it is equally sur-
prising that a mushroom in a lover's pouch should secure
success.

Mr Sowerby, in his Preface to the British Fungi, after
stating the uses to which this trilje of plants has been ap-
plied, has the following observations : " The Lycoperdons
afford, in their ripe state, different browns, very copiously,
in a fine impalpable powder, fit for immediate drawing,
when mixed with a little gum arabic water. I intend, when I
figure some of the Lycoperdons, to use their own powder
to represent itself." This pledge he has redeemed in the
case of the Leucogala argentia, tab. 272. the lowermost
figure of that plate being coloured with the powder of the
plant itself.

The fumes of the Lycoperdon proteus, when burnt.

FUNGI.

523

have a narcotic qiialily, and hence tliey ai-e sometimes cm-
])loyecl to ptoduce stupor in bees, in order to obtain the
ho:iiy without destroying the hive.

These are a few of the uses to which this tribe of plants
has been applied. Some of them may excite a sneer, while
others will provoke a smile. The time may come when
the fungi shall hold a more conspicuous place among the
useful vegetables than they now occupy. Not above half
a dozen of species have as yet been cliemically examined.
Yet these analyses have brouglit to ligiit several important
facts, and even furius'acd us with two new vegctab ■• prin-
ciples. The history of the one may throw some liglu upon
their respective merits as articles of luiman food, while the
other appears to furnish the chemist with a new instrument
of analysis.

Mushrooms have long been employed as articles of hu-
man food, and as the basis of several sauces. In this coun-
try, a very few species only are made use of, but on the
continent very many kinds are employed. By the Russians
in particular, few are rejected. Even the most acrid and
suspicious of the whole tribe, as the Agaricus piperatus,
is eaten in great quantity. Nay, so fond are they of this
mushroom, which in this country is deemed poisonous,
that they fill large vessels with it in the autumn season, or
pickle it with salt, and reserve it for winter food. The
kinds v.'hich are held in the highest estimation are, how-
ever, few in number. The irufile seems to hold a most
conspicuous place in the estimation of the epicure. It is
found from two inches to two feet under the surface. It
is chiefly found in a light sandy soil, although it also inha-
bits rich loam, open pasture ground, and woods of oak and
chesnut. Its scent is so penetrating, that dogs and swine
Smell it at a distance. The former of these animals are
taught to hunt it out, and when they come to the place,
they bark a little, and begin to sc.atch up the earth with
their feet. Sometimes the herds attentively vvatcb the
swine when rutting up the ground, and deprive them of
their hard-earned morsel by appropriating it to themselves.
Truffles are found in various parts of England and Scot-
land. They are regularly sold in Covent Garden market,
and are principally employed to thicken soups and sauces,
and to give them a fine flavour. Morels are used for the
same purpose, and are reckoned but little inferior.

But the most common mushroom in use at our tables, is
the yigaricus cam/ieslrie. In this species the cap is white,
changing to a brown when old, and becoming scurfy; re-
gularly convex, with the margin inflected, becoming flat
with age. Flesh while, firm, and solid. The stem is short,
white, and solid, nearly cylindrical, about a finger thick,
" and surrounded with a membranaceous ring, the remains
-of the curtain which at first covers the gills. The gills are
loose, pinky red, changing with age into a liver colour, in
contact with, but not united to, the stem ; very thick set, ir-
regular in disposition, some forked near the stem, some
next (ho edge of the pilcus, some at both ends, and gene-
rally in that case excluding the intermediate smaller gills.
Tliey diflTer very much in size, the head varying from two
10 nine inches in diameter. It is principally found in rich
dry old pastures, where the turf has not been ploughed up
-for many years. In such situations it may be found hi abun-
dancje during the months of August and September, of a
much finer flavour, and firmer in the flesh than those which
are raised by gardeners. Several other agarics are also in
use, as the Oreades, which is rather tough, but of a fine fla-
vour; the Moiiccron, which is held in very high estimation
in France ; the Dcliciosus, which the ancient Romans es-
teemed as one of the greatest luxuries of the table, and
which is still brought to the markets of Italy for sale: it
occurs also in this country, but is here seldom employed.

These mushrooms arc either eaten while fresh, stewed
or boiled, or preserved when pickled or pulverised. For
these purposes, both the skin, the gills, and the stem arc
taken away, and the fleshy iiart which remains, termed the
button, is employed. When sprinkled with salt, and al-
lowed to remain for some time, a considerable quantity of
juice is obtained, which, when boiled up with various kinds
of spiccrics, forms the well known sauce called ketchup..
This sauce is often very successfully counterfeited with
bullock's liver, which is said to produce a liquor equally
savoury and agreeable, at least in stews.

Since these vegetable bodies are in such request, we
need not be surprised to find, in books of gardening, vari»
ous directions concerning the culture of mushrooms. The
most simple and easy method of raising these curious pro-
ductions is mentioned in the Trans. Swedish Acad. 1797,
where we are informed that there is a stone used in Italy
for producing mushrooms, by keeping it moistened with wa-
ter in a cellar. There appear to be two kinds of it ; one
found in the chalk hills near Naples, resembling a white
stalactite, intermixed with fine roots of shrubs ; the other is
a hardened turf from some \olcanic mountains neav Flo-
rence. This loses by calcination about 15 percent, and
the residuum gives .46 silica, .23 alumina, .07 lime, .20
oxide of iron, with some traces of magnesia and potash.
To render these stones more productive, and prevent their
quality of producing mushrooms from being exhausted, it
is necessary, we are told, to water them with water in which
mushrooms have been washed ! thus furnishing them-, no
doubt, with a store of the minute seeds of the plant.

Gardeners contrive other methods of propagating mush-
rooms, so as to produce them at all seasons of the year.
These plants do not require light during their vegetation,
so that they may be raised on beds made on purpose, within
doors, under sheds, in lofts, stables, or cellars. These beds
should be made of the best warm stable dung, which ought
to he first mixed up in a heap, that the whole may ferment
together equally ; and after the first great heat is over, it
may then be employed in the formation of the bed. But
before proceeding to this part of the process, it is neces-
sary to obtain a sufiicient quantity of good mushroom sfiaiun,
as it is called. The ^laturat sjiaivn, as it is termed, and
which consists of white fibrous radicles, is frequently found
in the dung of old cucumber or melon beds ; it is also often
to be met with in old heaps of horse dung, which have lain
for two or three months. It is frequently to be found in
pasture grounds, in stable yards, and in mill tracks. In all
these situations it is in lumps of dry rotten dung or mould,
of a white fibrous substance, and possessing the smell of
a mushroom. Such spawn is sold by the market gardenersj
and may be conveyed with safety to any distance. Having
obtained a su[)ply of spawn, the next part of the process is
to prepare the bed. Choose a dry lying place, and having
levelled the surface, make the fermented dung into a bed
from 3 to 4 feet in height, and let the whole be finished in
the form of the ridge of a house. The dung in this case
must not be loo closely pressed, and it must remain for a
fortnight or three weeks before the spawn is put in, or
until the heat is become quite moderate. If the spawn is
put in when the bed is in its warmest state of fermentation,
it would be entirely destroyed. When the bed has been
brought into a proper state, let the spawn be divided into
small lumps, and plant it in rows lengthwise of the bed, ob-
serving to begin llie first row within about five or six inches
of the bottom. Plant the spawn immediately under the sur-
face of the dung in lines six inclves distant, and leave the
same space between the pieces in the rows. When this is
done, let the surface of the bed be made smooth, and then
let every part of the bed, from the bottom upward, be co-
3 U 2

524

FUNGI.

vercd witli some ricli tli'y cartli, about an inch ami a half
thick, nuikiiitj tlie surface smooth with the spade. When
this is done, let the whole he covered with clean dry straw,
a foot thick at least, to keep out the wet and cold. Such
a bed, with proper care, will begin to produce mushrooms
in five or six weeks, and will continue bearing for several
months.

This mode of culture supposes thai you have procured
roots of the plants which you wish to cultivate ; but, accord-
ing to other mcUiods, the use of this spawn is superceded,
the seeds of the mushroom seeming to be everywhere, and
merely requiring favouralile circumstances to ensure their
germination. According to this last method, a iluor is laid
of ashes or bricks, so as to keep the bed quite dry, and free
from under damp, upon this place a layer of horse drop-
pings, six inches thick. These should be new from the
stable, and must not be broken, and the drier they are, so
much the better. They may be collected every day, until
the whole floor be covered to the above thickness ; but they
nnist not be allowed to ferment or heat. During the for-
mation of the bed, tlic materials should be as much exposed
to the air as possible; and if out of doors, it should be de-
fended from rain. When this first course is quite dry, and
judged to be past a state of fermentation, cover it to the-
thickness of two inches with light dry earth, if sandy so
much the better. The use of the earth here is for the
spawn to run in. After this lay another course of drop-
pings, and earth them over as above, when past a state of
fermentation ; then a tliird course, which in like manner
earth over. This finishes the iied, which will be a very
strong and productive one if properly managed afterwards.
But the tyro in gardening will naturally enquire from
■wlience the plants are to spring in this bed. Where is the
seed ? The seeds are contained in the droppings of horses,
which have been employed. These produce mushrooms
more plentifully, and with greater certainty, than the dung
of other animals. The digestive organs of horses seem to
have less power to hurt the vegetative quality of these
seeds, which must be collected along with their food, than
the stomachs of other animals. Or it may be that the dung
of horses is a better nidus for the seeds than other dungs,
and that these seeds arc very widely diffused. The drop-
pings of hard fed horses only are useful. Those of horses
fed with green food will of thetnselves produce few or no
mushrooms. Hence the dung of carriage or saddle horses,
fed entirely on corn and hay, is generally the most pro-
ductive.

Whether the bed be in the open air or in a house, it must
not be -watered until the spawn begins to ru7z. This may
be known by thrusting in the hand into the bed a few inches
deep, and examining the state of that which is brought up.
It ought to smell exactly like mushrooms, and have the ap-
pearance of small bits of thread. But generally you will
be forewarned of the spawn running, by a previous crop of
spurious fungi, which-rise more or less abundantly, accord-
ing to the fineness or grossness of the materials of which
the bed is composed. These fungi have all a nauseous
sickly smell ; and although some of them belong to the ge-
nus Agaricus, they do not possess those salmon-coloured
gills which characterise the cultivated species. When it
is thus ascertained that the spawn is fully formed, give the
bed two or three hearty waterings, in order to set it a grow-
ing, for otherwise it will lie dormant, and shew no symp-
toms of vegetation. But beware not to damp the bed too
much, as thereby the growth of the spawn would be greatly
retarded. If a few old uiushrooms be previously steeped
and broken iii the water, you sow innumerable seed at the
time of watering, and thus ensure future crops.

V/hen the bed is in full perfection, it should be examined

two or three times a week to gatlier the produce, turniiyg
off the straw covering very carefully. Two methods are
recommended by gardeners to be observed in collecting the
mushrooms. According to the first, they are to be detach-
ed clean to the bottom by a gentle twist, as, if the stump is
left, it is apt to become maggoty, and infect the rest of the
bed. According to the opinion of other gardeners, they
ought never to be pulled, but always cut; as, by pulling,
many young ones might be destroyed, there being always
a number of these forming or clustering about the roots of
the old- ones, which should not be disturbed. If the spawn
be deeply situated in the beds, mushrooms will often form
and come to maturity entirely under the ground. They
may be easily recognised, however, as they are generally
large, and push up small hills above their heads.

Mushrooms, although eagerly sought after by many, are
by no means a nourishing article of food. Tlicir fibres are
tough, and very difficult to digest, swelling in the stomach
like a sponge ; and.theic are instances on record of their
remaining three days in that organ in an undigested state.
So indigestible are some of the Boleti, for example, that
they have been found as bezoars in the intestines of some of
the inferior animals. Thus the Boletus igniarius has oc-
curred disposed in layers, and cemented by an animal mat-
ter, (jinn, (le Mus. d'Hist. Kat. iv. 335.) But it would
be fortunate if no objections could be urged against their
being used in diet, but those which arise from their coria-
ceous indigestible nature, and their want of nourishing par-
ticles. All of them are a doubtful and suspicious food, and
the most innocent of them have often proved prejudicial,
nay fioisonojin.

It would be desirable if we could draw the line of dis-
tinction between the harmless and the noxious. But neither
the eye of the botanist, nor the laboratory of the chemist,
can render us assistance. No reliance can be placed on
either taste, smell, or colour. The qualities of the same
species are different when the plant grows in wet ground,
from what they are when it obtains a dry situation. The
same species is sometimes innocent when young, but noxi-
ous when old. From these considerations it has even been
recommended, and with much propriety, to erase their
names from the list of aliments. Not a year passes in which
instances do not occur of the deleterious effects of mush-
rooms. The newspapers abound with such, and yet these
warnings are not suflicent to deter the inexperienced from
using them. The reason is obvious ; they hear that soine
kinds are in common use at tiie tables of the great; and
trusting to colour and shape, they too often gather the hurt-
ful in place of the harmless.

The efiecls produced upon the constitution by the use of
the noxious kinds, are of the most alarming nature. In
cows and otlier cattle, they have been known to create
bloody urine, nauseous milk, swellings of the abdomen,
inflammations in the bowels, slopjjages, diarrhoeas, and
death. In sliecp, they bring on a scirrhous liver, a cough,
a general wasting, and dropsy. In men, nearly the same
symptoms have appeared, with vomitings, fainting, trem-
bling, and death. In such cases, when persons have un-
happily eaten deleterious kinds, vomiting ought to be ex-
cited as speedily as possible, and gentle laxatives adminis-
tered ; and after th-; first evacuation, a drachm of sulphuric
ether, in a glass of water of marshinallows, may be given.

Some few attempts have been made for the pvirpose of
ascertaining whether the poisonous matter resides in the
substance or in the juice of the mushroom. iVI. Parmen-
tier, in order to determine the matter, took some mush-
rooms of the deleterious kind, and distilled thein with wa-
ter in an alembic. The water which came over into the re-
ceiver was administered to a dog, without producing on the

FUNGI.

SS;

animal any visible effects. Ilavintr emptied tlic contents
of the alembic in a vessel, and mixed with some food to dis-
guise them, be administered these to a dog ; but the resi-
due differed widely in (luality from the condensed vapour,
for the poor animal expired in a lew hours alter. The
same author informs us, that having administered some
poisonous mushrooms alone;- with some food to a dog, lie
observed the following symptoms: The dog first began
to shew symptoms of uneasiness and stupidity, afterwards
it vomited up the food and mushrooms w hich it luid swal-
lowed. After a short interval, it again began to vomit, and
emitted a thick viscous matter. This continued until the
death of the animal, which happened soon after. Upon
opening up the stomach and intestines of the dog, no ap-
pearances of corrosion presented themselves, the inflam-
matory symptoms were merely those which might have
arisen from violent vomiting.

The fungi often appear as the formidable enemies of
man, in his fields, his gardens, and liis houses. The dis-
eases called the blight and the smut are, as already noticed,
both caused by parasitical fungi, whose history deserves to
be attentively studied by every farmer. These little plants
destroy the leaves, the stem, and the ear, and produce the
most dismal havoc in the fields. No remedy has been dis-
covered to impede or remove the disorder, after it has once
made its appearance. The pickling of the seed before
sowing it, with salt, quicklime, or urine, and the frequent
change of seed from different places, are the only known,
though not always efficacious, preventives.

The parasitical fungi sometimes attack fruit trees. One
species is figured by Mr Sowerby, tab. 379, as infesting the
apple-tree leaves, covering them with a very fine wh.ile pow-
der, with dark brown particles, scarcely visible to the naked
eye. The form of these particles is somewhat ovate, but
irregular. Mr Knight observes, that on shaking a leaf over
a plate of glass, he detected little oval bodies, which shri-
velled a little in drying. Some, of these were transferred
to other trees, and the disorder along with each, every one
producing its own species.

The dry rot is another of those evils which have been
supposed to be occasioned by a parasitic?! fungus of the
genus Boletus. It is not our intention in this place to en-
deavour to ascertain the point, whether the fungus is the
cause or the consequence of tlie disease, although we are
rather inclined to suspect tliat decomposition has com-
menced before the fungus begins to grow. That the fun-
gus may aid the process of destruction, we can easily sup-
pose ; but we also believe that wood in a fresh sound state
would offer but a bad soil for the germination of such pa-
rasites.

The fungi serve several important purposes in the eco-
nomy of nature. They accelerate the process of dissolu-
tion, by converting the woody fibre of dead trees and
branches into a softer and more deliquescent substance.
They supply with a grateful food many insects which feed
upon them, and even hatch their young in them. And last-
ly, tliey furnish, by their uncommon forms, an agreeable
variety to t!ie eye of the botanist, when contemplating th.e
scenery of the vegetable kingdom, and lead him to adore
that Being, who is exlilbiled in all his works as powerful,
kind, and wise.

In Plate LXXV, the reader will find figures of the four
following species :

Agaricus canipestris, or commpn niushroom.
Phallus esculentus, or morel.
Tuber cibaiiuni, ortruflle.

APPENDIX.

IIYPOXYL.\.

This order of the class Cryptogamia was first employed
by Lamarck and DecandoUc, in their arrangement of the
native plants of France. It seems to connect the Fiin^i
with the Lkhcncsy and consists of plants which have many
of the characters of both these orders. The Hypoxylaare
either of a coriaceous or corneous texture, or resemble
cork in consistence. The receptacles, which are almost
always of a black colour, sometimes comprehend the whole
plant ; 'in other instances they are inserted upon a stem,
which is straight, solid, filamentous, or pulverulent. Wiiat-
ever be their position, these receptacles arc rounded or ob-
long, open at the summit by having a pore or slit, and filled
with a mucilaginous pulp, which is more or less evident in
some shape, until the period of maturity. This pulp en-
closes the seeds. Some species present here and there
parcels of white fugaceous powder, which many naturalists
consider as the male organs of the plant.

The plants of this order are chiefly found on the trunks
of trees; some of them grow upon decaying leaves; and a
small number have been observed on rocks, and on the
ground. Unlike the more perfect plants, many species of
this order give out no oxygen when exposed to the rays
of the sun under water. In such circumstances, however,
there are a few which yield hydrogen gas.

This order is naturally divided into two tribes, according
as the mucilaginous pulp issues from the receptacle in an
obvious or insensible manner. The first of these approaches
the fungi in appearance and consistence ; the second inti-
mates its relation to the lichens, by the pulverulent base
which surrounds the receptacle. It is not our intention, in
presenting our readers with an account of this order, to de-
scribe all the species which it embraces, but merely to enu-
merate the characters of the genera. Under each genus there
will be found the description of one species at least, for
the purpose of illustrating the characters upon which it is
founded.

TRIBE I. In this tribe the seed-bearing fnil/i obviously
issues from the receptacle ivhen the plant has arrived at ma-
turity.

Genus I. Rhizomorpha. This genus, which was insti-
tuted by Rothes, consists of i)lants having a receptacle near-
ly globular and persistent, opening at the summit by an in-
distinct orifice, attached in the form of tubercles, to a stem
which is simple or branched, and spongy within.

Rhizomorplia fragilis. Clavaria phosphorea of Sowerby's
British Fungi, tab. 100. The bark of this species is black,
brittle, glabrous, and shining ; the inside is white and
spongy. The stem is cylindrical, when it grows exposed
to the air ; but compressed when it creeps in the crevices of
>vood. It pushes forth a nimiber of blanches, which fre-
quently anastamose. The fructification, which is but rare-
ly seen, consists of tubercles, scattered or in groups, spheri-
cal, black, a little shagreened, ending in an orifice wliicli
can scarcely be perceived. These tubercles are filled with
a black pulp containing the seeds. This plant grows in
subterraneous places, in the hoWovvs of trees, in the chinks
of wood, and between the v/ood and the bark. In some in-
stances it has been observed to emit a phosphoric light,
when fresh, at the ends of the shoots.

Genus II. Srn^ERiA. This genus consists of plants whicU

526

FUNGI.

present oiic or more osseous rounded receptacles, opening
at the top by an orifice tisually of a lengthened shape, soli-
tary, clustered, or inserted upon a cork-like stalk, filled
with a mucilatjinoiis siibbtance, containing the seeds, and
which issues by the orifice of the receptacle. Almost all
the species of this genus are of a black colour, and of a
compact consistence ; a few are red and fleshy. Several
species, previous to the opening of the cells, exhibit a while
fugacious powder, which has been accurately observed by
HotTman, Todc, and liulliard, and which many naturalists
consider as the male organs of the plant. Almost all the
species of this genus, especially those which have no stems,
grow under the epidermis of living trees, or decaying
leaves, which they pierce at the time of the dispersion of
the seeds. The genus is divided into the following sections.

Sect. 1. Cajisulcs sufifwrted on a lengthened fieslnj or
cork-like base. [Hi//ioxylo7i oi iussicu.) Sphaeria digita-
ta, Sower, tab 69. This plant commences its growth very
early in the spring, and continues through the summer,
ripening its capsules in autumn annually. Though at first
somewhat pointed, and covered with a whitish dust or fa-
rina, as it advances it assumes a more conical form, and the
farina is more on the top. It finally becomes blunter, and
the head is covered with spherules, copiously discharging
a black soot-like powder. The inner substance is very
white and solid, the fibres diverging from the centre up-
wards, and in breaking form a diverging cone. This
plant, when exposed to the action of the sun under water,
gives out air which contains seventy per cent, of hydrogen
gas.

Sect. II. Cajisulcs /ilaced upon an exfioscd base more
cr less ajifiarent. Spharia concenirica, Sower, tab. 160.
The general shape of this curious parasite is hemispheri-
cal, though often very uneven. It forms whitish farina-
ceous threads, and black spherules in alternate order
around the whole surface, which having fructified, remain
in strife, concentrating from the root or base. The white
threads destitute of farina becoming greyer, and the ap-
pearance of capsules in the black striae being totally lost,
give it the exact resemblance of the grain of the wood in
some charcoal. This plant is foimd on asii, hornbean,
willow, and other trees, and often grows to three inches
diameter, in some situations continuing to grow many
months.

Sect. 3. Ca/isules not untied by a coni?non receptacle,
IfJit joined the one to the other in bundles or clusters. S/iha-
ria coronala, Iloffm. Crijpt. i. p. 26. tab. 5. f. 2. This spe-
cies presents five or six cells disposed in a circular ring,
black, somewhat globular, of the size of a pin-head ; their
openings are lengthened, cylindrical, and inclined in such
a manner as to unite at the summit. These cells are plac-
ed in the bark ; their orifices pierce the epidermis, and ap-
pear a little on the outside. This species grows upon the
birch.

Sect. 4. Ca/isules distinct, ajiproaching, cr solitary.
Sphcsria gnomon, Sower, tab. STS. fig. 6. This species
is found at the beginning of spring upon the leaves of the
hazel tree, forming, in general, rounded or annular patches.
The capsules are distiiict from one another. On the up-
per part of the leaf, a black somewhat convex tubercle
may be perceived, beneath arc found lengthened blacken-
ed knobs ; a concave orifice may be observed at tlieir sum-
mit, furnished with a bristle resembling a style.

Gexls III. N^E.MASPORA. The plants of this genus dif-
fer from those of the preceding, in consequence of the fer-
tile pulp containing the capsule issuing from the orifice of
a semi-compact consistence, and lengthening out into a
capillary appendage, soluble in water.

.Weinaspora carpina, Sower, tab. STa. This is not un-

common on the hornbean ; the spherules arc lodged undei
the bark, and are compressed, irregular, and waxy, and
throwing out black twisted tendrils ; afterwards they be-
come brittle, and like charcoal.

Genus IV. Xyi.oma. The capsules are hard, of various
forms, filled with fleshy jelly; they remain firm, and burst
in difl'erent places to allow the escape of the jelly. The
plants of this genus grow upon dead or living leaves, where
they form black and frequently bright spots. They prefer
the upper surface of tl-.e leaves, while the greater number
of the parasitical fungi which grow upon living leaves,
prefer the under surface.

Xyloma pumtatum. Every one is acquainted with the
appearance of this plant. It grows upon the upper sur-
face of the common sycamore, in the form of black patch-
es, approaching to a circular form. It consists at first of
rounded distinct wrinkled flat pomts.

Ge.nls V. Hypodebma. The plants of this genus ha%'e
an oblong receptacle, opening by a longitudinal slit, and
emitting a substance, which is nearly pulverulent, contain-
ing the seeds. They differ from the plants of the last ge-
nus in aspect, and by the oblong slit of the receptacle.

Hyfioderma (juercinum. Sower, tab. 373. 3. This plant
is frequent on the dried branches of the oak in lengthened
spots, waved, and for the most part transverse. When the
seeds are about to be dispersed, the epidermis of the bark
opens, and the capsule splits in the same direction, afford-
ing a passage to the seeds, and vanishing itself soon after :
the seeds are black.

TRIBE II. In this tribe, the seed bearing pulp remains
in the rece/itacle, or escapes in a gradual and insensible
manner. The former tribe connects the hypoxyla with
the fungi, and this tribe establishes their relation to the li-
chens.

Genus VI. Hysterium. The receptacle is oblong,
and opens by a longitudinal slit. It encloses the seeds,
which are enveloped in a gelatinous liquor, thus forming
a capsule constituting the whole plant. The hysteria live
on fallen trunks, and not under the epidermis.

Hysterium pulicare. Lichen marmoreus of English Bot.
739. This plant presents convex tubercles, which are
black, compact, oblong or rounded, opening at the top by
a longitudinal slit. It grows in groups on the bark of the
oak, and various other trees.

Genus VII. Opegbapha. The receptacles of this g^
nus are lineai-, sessile, simple or branched, marked above
by a longitudinal slit containing the seeds. These are si-
tuated in an interrupted crust. This genus, named and
characterised by Humboldt and Persoon, consists of nume-
rous specits, confounded under the names Lichen rugosus
and Ecriptus of Linnaeus. Some of the species grow upon
trees, otliers upon stones. In all of them the receptacles
are black.

Opcgrapha denigrata, E. Bot. 1753. The crust is white,
and sometimes so thin that one would be disposed to con-
sider it a simple alteration of the colour of the epidermis
of the bark. The receptacles are black, often shining,
waved, simple or branched, piominent, marked by a dis-
t'mct groove, clustered in rounded spots. Common on the
oak and various other trees.

Gexus VIII. Verrucaria. The plants of this genus
have a thin crust, bearing the receptacles sometimes bu-
ried in it, sometimes prominent, somewhat globular, closed
at first, afterwards pierced by a pore at the summit. They
differ from the former genus in the receptacles opening by
a rounded pore, and not by a longitudinal groove : These,
in all the species of the genus, are of a black colour. Some
grow on wood, or the bark of trees, jvhHe others prefer

FUR

527

rocks or walls. They are arranged with the lichens by tlif-
fcrent authors.

Verrucaria sanguinularia, E. Bot. 155. The crust is ash-
coloured, with a tinge of green, granular, wrinkled, tliin,
and irregular. The receptacles are scattered, hemispheri-
cal, black on the outside, bright red within. When mag-
nified, a small pore may be observed at the summit oi the
receptacles.

Genus IX. Pertusaiua. The plants of this genus
have, an indistinct crust supporting their receptacles, which
are pierced by many pores, corresponding to as many in-
ternal capsules ; tlie pores sometimes unite, and form an
irregular cup during the old age of the plant. They differ
from the preceding genus in aspect, in the number of cap-

sules, and in the receptacles being of the same colour with
the crust.

Pcrtiisaria communis. Lichen pertusus of En. Bot. 677.
The crust is smooth, of a greenish ash colour when moistj
cinereous when dry, and covered witli numerous, crowded,
smooth, angular warts, of the same colour as the crust.
Upon the head of each wart are small black impressed
punctures, from ona to ten in number, as if made with the
point of a pin, under each of which punctures, if the wart
be cut transversely, will be found a hollow, spherical cell.
In the old specimens, tlie punctures open of themselves,
and discover the cell. It is found on the trunks of trees,
and also upon rocks.

FUNGUS. See Surgery.

FUR. See Dahfur.

FUR Trade. See Peltry.

FURNACE is the name given to an apparatus, which
consists of a certain cavity containing combustible matter,
with various means of supplying it with air to effect its
combustion.

Furnaces may be divided into two general classes, viz.
■wind or air furnaces, and blast furnaces. In the first of
these, the air is induced to pass through the fire by the
draught of a funnel or chimney communicating with it.
In the second, the air is supplied by the action of bellows,
or other pneumatic apparatus. The term furnace, how-
ever, is more particularly applied to such as are used in
the manufactures for the fusion and calcination of sub-
stances, and in the laboratory of the chemist.

The most simple and effective air furnace, would con-
sist of a plain prismatic or cylindiic column, the interior
cavity of which is defended from the exterior air by some
infusible substance, the least capable of conducting heat.
That portion of the cavity which is occupied by the fuel,
may be called the body of the furnace. This is separated
from the lower portion, called the ash-pit, by a grate for
the admission of air. The upper portion above the body
is called the chimney. When the fire is kindled, all the
air above the grate becomes specifically lighter than the
outer air. This induces a current of air through the fur-
nace, the velocity of which will be as the difference of
temperature between the inner and outer air, and as the
square root of height, reckoning from the grate to the
summit of the column.

In a furnace so constructed, the air would meet with the
least resistance from not being required to change its di-
rection after it enters the grate, and its practical effect
would come the nearest to the law above laid down. But
for thr. sake of convenience, the body of the furnace is de-
tached from the chimney, by a connecting cavity called the
throat of the furnace. This v.'ill interrupt the free passage
of the air, in proportion to the deviation of its direction
from the perpendicular line, and inversely as the area of
its section. The intensity of the heat of every furnace,
will therefore be as the quantity of oxygen consumed in a
given time, and inversely as the space in which the com-
bustion is produced. This will therefore be as the velo-
city of the current and the density of the air, all other
things being equal.

Let D i^the density of the outer air,

d zrthe density of tlie air in the chimney,
h nithe height of the chimney,
5-— the velocity produced by gravity in a second
of time,

i ~ the velocity of the ascending current ;
then the velocity which the height h would give will be
ZZ ^"ili g, and the velocity of the current or,

r-7— D— rf

The practical effect, however, will fall short of this for-
mula, from the interference of several causes, the princi-
pal of which is the interruption of the current, partly by
the change of the direction of its motion, and partly by the
roughness of the sides of the chimney.

The first of these may be in some measure obviated, by
making the throat sufficiently wide, and as little out of the
perpendicular as circumstances will admit. The friction
upon the sides may be decreased considerably, by rubbing'
those sides of the bricks Avhicli have to form the interior
surface, in order to make it as even as possible. It will
also be advantageous that the walls of the chimney should
conduct away the least possible quantity of heal. This
will be effected, by first building an inner wall of one
course of bricks, and then surrounding it with an outer
wall, leaving a cavity between the two walls equal to the
thickness of a brick, which cavity is to be closed firmly at
the top. This will serve to keep the temperature of the
air in the chimney hotter than it otherwise would be, and
by that means increase the velocity of the current. The
interior of the body of the furnace, the throat, and a small
portion of the chimney, must be of fire brick.

It is difficult to give a maximum for the height of chim-
nies; although from the above theorem, the power of the fur-
nace would increase as the square root of the height, to any
extent; yet in practice, it will be found to be limited by two
causes. The one, the friction of the sides of the chimney; the
other depends upon the gradual diminution of the tempe-
rature of the inner air as it ascends, till it becomes equal
to that of the external. This first will vary with the faci-
lity with which the heat is conducted away through the
sides of the chimney. It will be obvious, however, under
the most favourable circumstances, that the changes of
power by altering tlie height will not be very conspicuous,
from its being as the square root of the height. For in-
stance, if a chimney of one foot high produce an effect of
1, it will require the height to be 4 feet to produce twice,
and one of 9 feet to produce three times the effect, and so
on, increasing in the same ratio.

In reverberating furnaces, which are heated by the
flame of pift coal, the maximum is much higher than in
the melting furnace, which is heated with coak. This
arises from the flame in the former heating the interior of
the chimney. The melting furnace should have its chim-
ney not less than 30 feet. The reverberatory furnace may
with good effect be made much higher.

528

FUR

Tiic cliirnney of a fui'nace should bo pnrfectly distinct
from every oilier, nor can it have any opening in its side
without sustaining- an injury proportionate to its size ; but
its cflcct will be less, as its lieiglit above tlio lire is ijreatcr.

Sound philosophy and experience will ever discard the
practice of attcmptinij to make one furnace perform two
operations at the same time.

Having given some account of the principles of fur-
naces, we shall now describe several at present tised in
the arts, and in the laboratory. Plate CCLXII. Fig. 1, is
a section and side elevation of a melting furnace. B is the
body of the furnace, containing a crucible upon its stand.
The use of the stand is to raise the crucible above the
grate .§■, so as to aliuw its bottom to receive the greatest
heat of the fire. A is the ash-pit, opening through the
outer wall, or into a cellar below. This serves to prevent
the cold air from annoying the operator. D is the damper,
which when shut covers the under side of the grate. K
is the cover, which is cither formed by putting two fire
bricks ill an iron ring, or by moulding fire clay into proper
form, and burning it afterwards. C is the chimney. Fig.
2. is a plan of the same furnace.

Figures 3. and 4. are a section and plan of a furnace for
heating a sand-bath. A is the ash-pit, B the body of the
furnace, d the door for fuel, g the grate, W a wall, or one
large fire-brick placed between the grate and the chimney,
leaving no way for the smoke to pass but through the neck
n. It then descends on the other side, and passes through
the flue F into the chimney C. /i is a plate of cast metal,
formed of two plates ribbeting into each other, by which
it is less liable to break by the heat than if the plate was
in one. This plate covers the whole of the top of the fur-
nace so as not to allow the escape of smoke. I I is a frame
of cast-iron lying loosely upon the plate, with as little
touching surface as possible. Within this frame a wrought
iron rim S is placed, for the purpose of enveloping the
sand which constitutes the sand-bath. There are rims of
dilVerent depths, according to the size of the vessels to be
placed in the sand.

Figs. 5, 6, and 7, are two sections and a plan of a rever-
beratory furnace. A is the ash-pit, B the fire place, ^ the
grate; F, in the plan Fig. 7, is the opening for the intro-
duction of fuel, which is pit-coal. The flame plays along
the hearth H, and passes into the chimney C. O is an
opening for the introduction of the substances to be enter-
ed or melted, which are placed upon the hearth. If the
substance is to be melted, it runs down to the opening T,
where it is taken out, D is the damper for regulating the
fire. This furnace is more particularly adapted for melt-
ing than for calcining, on account of its inclining hearth,
and the opening at T. The construction is a little varied
for the latter purpose. The hearth is nearly horizontal,
and there is generally but one opening, which is in the
middle.

Figs. 8 and 9, are two sections of an enamelling furnace.
A is the ash-pit, g the grate, B the body-furnace, where
the fuel is contained; iM is the muffle, an earthen vessel
more plainly seen in Plate CXLIII. Fig. 9. It contains
the substances to be operated upon, and is for the purpose
of defending them from smoke or flame, and admitting a
supply of flesh air; K is the cover, T the throat, Rnd C
the chimney. This furnace is also employed for assaying
met:;ls by cupellation.

Figs. 10, 11, and 12, contain a view and section of a
muffle furnace, fur producing very intense heats. The
body of the furnace, shewn at A..\, is in the form of an ob-
long coffer, swelling out in the middle. The grate is
shewn at C, standing over the ash-pit F. The hole for the
mufile is seen at E ; and the dome, or ii^j-per part of the

furnace, is seen at BB, having a very large door D, for the
purpose of introducing the fuel. This furnace v,'as em-
ployed by Pott, and afterward:; by D'Arcct, in their expe-
riments on the habitudes of earths and stones, when ex-
l)Osed to a violent and long continued heat. Figs. 13, 14,
15, 16, I'epre.sent fire-tongs for various purposes.

A description of Dr Black's portable wind furnace will
be found in our article on Chemisthy, vol. vi. p. 189, and
a perspective view and section of it in Plate CXLIII. Fig.
7. and 8.

A description of Mr Arthur Aikin's portable blast fur-
nace is given in the article Chemistry, p. 160, and a per-
spective view and section of it in Plate CXLIII. Figs. 10,
11, 12, and 13.

Farther information on this subject will be found in our
articles Glass-.making, Iron, Stove, and in several other
articles where furnaces are adapted to jiarticular purposes
in the arts. See also Lewis' PhiloHophical Commerce of
Arts; Aikin's Dictionary of Chemistry, vol. ii. ; Miche on
Reverberatory Furnaces, in Rozier's Journal, vol. xxxii. p.
385. Perceval's Chamber Lamp Furnace, in the Re/itr-
tory of Arts, vol. iii. p. 29 ; and in the Tran. -.act ions of Die
Royal Irish Academy, vol. iv. p. 91; Walt's Patent Fur-
naces, in the Repertory of Arts, vol. iv. p. 226 ; Mr Edward
Howard's Improved Air Furnace is described in Tilloch's
Fhihsojihicat Magazine, vol. v. p. 190 — 193, and repre-
sented in plate iv. of that work ; Raley's Patent Furnaces,
in the Refiertory of Arts, vol. x. p. 155; Accuni's Im-
proved Universal Furnace of Dr Black, is described in his
System of Practical Chemistry, vol. ii. p. 357, and in Ni-
cholson's Journal, 8vo. vol. vi. p. 273 ; Curadau's New
Evaporating Furnace is described in the Annates de Chimie,
No. 149. An. xii. and in Nicholson's Journal, 8vo. vol. ix.
p. 204 — 207 ; and Lucas's fuinace for cast-iron cutlery, in
Parke's Chemical Jissays, vol. iv. Ess. 15. A furnace for
decomposing the sulphate of barytes, is described in the
same work, vol. ii. Ess. 5. (c. s.)

FURNEAUX's Islands. The great continent of New-
Holland is separated from Van Diemen's Land on the
south, which was during centuries believed to be an inte-
gral part of it, by a considerable expanse of water lately
discovered, called Bass Strait; and numerous islands, some
towards the centre of the strait, and some on the respec-
tive coasts are interposed between the two territories.
These have been classed into groups by successive navi-
gators, though with little regard to order, and without any
decided analogies. One of the principal and most com-
prehensive is Furneaux's Islands, divided by Bank's Strait,
12 or 15 miles in width, from the north-east extremity of
Van Diemeii's Land, stretching from about 40° 22' to 41'
27' of South Latitude, and situated, with respect to t!>e
centre of the group, in about 148° of East Longitude.

Neither the exact number of islands composing this
group, nor their individual size, are completely ascertain-
ed : the principal are Great Island, Cape Barren Island,
Clarke's Preservation, Chappcl, and Babel Islands, besides
many rocks and islets. The first is not less than forty
miles in length, and the second twenty. Almost all have
good harbours fur shipping; but the channels among some
of tliem are narrow, and of dangerous navigation.

The basis of the greater part of these islands is a whit-
ish granite, soinelin)es inclining to a reddish tinge, and
full of small black specks, supposed to be tin, and com-
municating a deleterious quality to water, as several peo-
ple died on drinking it. When exposed to heat, fumes es-
cape strongly denoting the presence of arsenic. The hills
rise to a considerable heignt; the highest is supposed to
be 1200 foet. Those of Cape Barren Island are generally
crowned with huge masses of granite; and immense de-

FUR

FUli

529

tachcd l>locks of the snmc substance arc scattered about
on the rest. Tiie lower parts of tlic islands are commnn-
ly sandy, or tliey luivc swamps and pools, where tlie wa-
ter is visually of a icddish hue; in other places, it is fresh
and good, aithoii|^'li transient visitors have denied its exis-
■ tence.

The wliolc islands arc overrun with brushwood, inter-
mixed, in the more sheltered paits, with a few stunted
trees, never exceeding twelve feet in heii^ht, and several
low shrubs tjrovv on the humid !i;rovnKls, surroundins;- the
margms of pools and swamps; but most of the brushwood
assumes a depressed and ereepinj^ form, particularly on
\hose sides of the islands exposed to the more prevalent
winds. A very singular and unexampled feature is pre-
sented in some of the trees having undergone a partial pe-
trifaction in Preservation Island. There, in a particular
spot, none of tlieni are thicker than a man's leg; all are
decayed; but while the upper branches consist of wood,
the roots at the surface, and the trunks to a certain height,
are converted to a chalky substance. The interior cential
part is always circular, seldom of the same diameter or of
the same composition; and rings of the brown wood some-
times appear, on breaking over the trunks, as if the jjetri-
faction were still incomplete. The vegetable productions
of Furneaux's Islands are scanty throughout; and it is to
be observed, that although there are patches of rich and
fertile soil, and the most luxuriant growth of numerous
plants in the vast extent of New Holland and Van Die-
men's liand, a very large proportion of the skirts, for the
interior is yet unknown, consists of low sandy tracts, ap-
pearing as if recently reclaimed from the sea, and where
nature is seen in her most barren aspect.

Two species of seals, differing in strvicture and habits,
frequent the shores of these islands, basking on steep de-
clivities, from wlience they can easily precipitate them-
selves into the sea; and they afford the three new genera
of (juadrupeds, the kanguroo, the wombat, and the duck-
billed ant-eater, all strangers to the older naturalists, be-
cause none exist on the four great continents of the world.
The fust is of a reddish brown species, weighing 40 or 50
lib. now grown shy from incessant pursuit, and difficult to
be caught on account of its impenetrable retreats of brush-
wood. The wombat, whose flesh is very acceptable food,
where quadrupeds are so scarce, was first seen on Clark's
and Cape Barren Island. It has since been caught on the
continent; but its instinct is visibly modified by the pre-
sence or aljscnce of danger, for it here feeds at all times,
often foraging among the refuse on the shore, while on the
continent it never leaves the holes wliere it burrows like a
badger until dark. The duck-billed ant-cater is esteem-
ed a great delicacy. Speckled, yellow, and likewise black
snakes, are seen on several islands on the confines of the
brushwood ; they have venomous fangs, but it is not report-
ed that they have ever proved destructive. Tiiey frequent-
ly penetrate the burrows made by the sheer water or sooty
petrel, amidst the sandy tufts of coarse grass, probably in
quest of the young. These birds occur in surprising num-
bers, darkening the air at sun-set in their flight ; they bur-
row exactly in the manner of rabbits, and breed in their
holes, and, in spite of the disturbance and destruction which
they experience, they pertinaciously resort to the same
spot. Penguins and other birds burrow in the same man-
ner, in places separate and disunct fiom the peli-els ; and
as the latter always retire to the ground at night, the pen-
guins, which have been sheltered there the whole day, then
regularly leave it. It is extremely diflicult, and sometimes
dangerous, to walk amidst the excavations formed by tliem,
as p<:oi)le suddenly sink knee deep. The most valuable
birds arc the goose and black swan; the former is luuue-

VOL. IX. P.IRT II.

rous, it feeds on gras-, and seldom takes to the water; tiie
latter is rare, and frequents fresh water pools only, in the
bleeding season.

Furneaux's islands were first explored by Mr I'nss, sur-
geon of the Ueliaiice, and Liciitcnini, aftemvards Captain
Minders, of the navy, in 1798. They were a'lout the sanic
time, and subsequeittly, resorted to by vessels from tota-
lly Bay, in prosecuting the seal fishery, which was so pro-
fitable that a single ship captured 9000 seals. Some years
later, the French expedition of discovery exariiined the
principal islands, and their appearance and position have
l)ccn further explained by the elegant charts of Captain
Flinders, published in 18 14. Previous to all these periods,
however, one of them had afi'orded refuge to a shipwreck-
ed crew, and it is not improbable that, during the irequent
intercourse of the Dutch with their eastern possessions,
the external islands may have been seen or visited. It
must now be admitted, that an extensive portion of the
coast of New Holland had, nearly two centuries ago, been
surveyed by them, though all remembrance of the fact was
lost. Yet the slight sketches, which only aflbrded scope
for conjectures, are evidently the result of attentive inves-
tigation.

Furneaux's islands are probably of too little importance
to become a permanent settlement. At present tempora-
ry establishments are formed upon them, by those engaged
in the seal fishery, which is less productive than it was
originally. Besides, fresli water is scarce in general, the
navigation is intricate, and the shores are frecjuently co-
vered with the wreck of vessels, wdiich repeatedly perish
in the neighbourhood. See CoU'in's ^ccoitnl of jVew South
Wales, vol. ii. Peron roijage aux Terres ^u-i/rales, p.
351. Flinder's Foyage to Terra Austrates, vol. i. Intro-
duct, p. 126. (c)

FURNES, Fume, a town of the Netherlands, situated
about three miles from the sea, on the canal which leads
Irom Bruges to Dunkirk. Its fortifications were demo-
lished in the years 1792, 1793, and 1794. The town house,
which is a good building, adorned with figures of kings
and jjiinces, has a handsome tower with musical chimes.
The town carries on a considerable trade in corn, bees,
cheese and butter. Its fairs are held on the 26;h March,
5th May, and 3d October, i^opulation of the town 3200.
F:ast Long. 2° 39' 5 1", and North Lat. 51° 4' 23", accord-
ing to trigonometrical observations.

FURRUCKABAD, or the Ha/ipy Abode, is a town of
Ilindostan, in the district of the same name, and capital of
the province of Agra. It is situated at a short distance
from the west bank of the Ganges, and was built about 100
years ago by a Patau colony. The streets are wide, and
the houses and open places are shaded with trees. In con-
sequence of the vicinity of the British cantonments, the
town is flourishing, and cariies on a considerable trade.
There is here a civil establishment for the administration
of justice, and the collection of the revenue. Close to
I'urruckabad is the town of Futtygur, where a brigade of
troops is usually cantoned. East Long. 79° 33', and North
Lat. 27° 23'. See Vaientia's Travels, vol. i. p. 194.

FURNITURE stop, on the organ, in music, is a dou-
ble or triple, kc. range of pipes, sometimes called the mix-
ture stop. 'J'lie tune of these ranges of pipes are XXIV,
XXVI, XXiX, &c. respectively, above the pitch of the
dia[>asons. This slop is rarely used but wit'i the sesqui-
altera and other compound stops ; and this medley of sound
to every note, is said by some to " enrich" tlie instrument :
but wliatever may prove to be their hitherto untried effect
on a (Listoij's) Euharmonic Organ, (see that article), the
confusion of rattliiig. loud brats, constantly heaid on com-
mon organs using these stops, is not less offensive to good
3X

530

GAB

eais, tlian Dr Uobcrt Smith has desciibed it) his Harmo-
nics, 2(1 edit. pp. 80 and 22r. (j)

FURTH is a large and populous town of Germany, in
the circle of Franconia, situated on the river Rednitz, some
leagues from Nui'emberg, on the road from that town to
Franckfort. With the exception of the new parts of the
town, Furth is very irregularly built, and is a mere mass
of liouses without order. Manufactures constiUUc the piin-
cipal riches of this industrious town. Mirrors are made
here to a great extent, and almost all those wMiicli bear the
name of Nuremberg are manufactured at Furth. Each
mirror, before it is linished, passes through the hands of
more than twelve difierent workmen. Articles turned out
of wood and metal, clocks, jewellery goods, chains of
watches, needles, buckles, snuff-boxes, and a great many
ether similar articles, are manufactured here. There is
here also a manufacture of tobacco, which is successfully
cultivated in the neighbourhood. A considerable trade is
carried on in wines, which are much esteemed, and which
are made principally at Sommerhausen, Rundsuck, Som-
merach, Westheim, Sec. The commerce of this place is
greatly facilitated by the junction of the Peignita with the
Rednitz, which are then navigable to Mein. The Jews,
who form one half of the population, are permitted to have
a synagogue, a school, and a printing-oflice. Population
16,000.

FURTHCOMING, or Forthcoming, in the law of
Scotland, is that process by which an arrestment is fol-
lowed up and made effectual. It is brought at the in-
stance of the arresting creditor, who calls the common
debtor before the judge to hear sentence given, ordering
the debt to be paid, or the effects arrested to be delivered up.

The decree in an action of furthcoming operates as a
legal assignation to the arrester, which cannot be defeated
by tire poinding of co-creditors. See Arrestmext. (z)

FUSEE. See Timekeeper.

FUTTIPOOR, or Futtehpoor, is a town or large vil-
lage of Hindustan, in the province of Agra. It is encir-
cled with a stone wall of great extent, built by the Empe-
ror Akbar. The enclosed space does not seem to have
been filled with buildings, ayd the inhabited partisan incon-
siderable village. A hilly lidge of considerable height di-
vides this space, and extends about 4 or 5 miles beyond the
wall. The materials of which the houses arc built comes
from the neighbouring hills, which are composed of a grey-
ish rock. On the highest part of the rock, near the cen-
tre of the enclosure, stands the tomb of Shah Selim Chees-
tec, in consequence of whose devotion the Empress of Ak-
bar is supposed to have become pregnant after remaining
several years barren. The approach to this mausoleum is
extremely grand. An ancient palace of Akbar stands upon
the same ridge. See Hunter in the ./^sia/ic Researches, vol.
vi. p. 75.

F'UZE. See Gvnneuy.

F'YZABAD, or the Beautiful Residence, is a town of
Hindostan, in the province of Oude, of which it was once
the capital. It was founded by Sadalkhan, a Persian, who
was forty years governor of the province. It is situated on
the south side of the Goggra, or Dewals river. The town
is of considerable extent, and contains many inhabitants,
chiefly of the lower classes; the merchant-bankers, money-
changers, and the great men, having removed to Lucknow
when the son of Sujad ud Dowlah removed the seat of go-
vernment to that town. The remains of a fortress and ol
Sujad ud Dowlah's palace, with its extensive gardens, arc
still to be seen. The ancient city of Oude, or Ayodha, the
capital of the great Ram, adjoins Fyzabad. East Long.
32° 10', and North Lat. 26° 46'. See Hodge's Travels and
Forster's Journey.

GABRES, GuEBREs, or Gaurs, worshippers of fire,
is the name of a religious sect which has subsisted in
Asia from a very ancient period.

Mankind, in the most rude and barbarous state, are una-
voidably sensible of the dissemination of light and heat by
the sun. His presence announces the day, while his absence
covers the earth with darkness. His emanations are a
powerful source of vegetation; and summer, which enables
them to provide alike for transient wants and future neces-
sities, is denoted by his more protracted appearance. Hence
it is not surprising, if, in gratitude for the benefits confer-
red by this luminary, some marks of adoration have fol-
lowed. Men, in most ages and in most countries, have
worshipped the sun ; and fire, in his absence, has been sub-
biituted as a prototype, under different characters. Among
the ancient nations following this practice, the Romans are
»iost familiar to us, who preserved sacred fire, which was
never to be extinguished, and which was guarded by the
vestal virgins. But, anterior to their era, it appears that
the worship of fire was widely spread over Persia, and re-
duced to an established form, acknowledged and received
by a large proportion of the inhabitants long before the birth
of Christ. A celebrated philosopher, Zoroaster, is report-
ed to have either founded a sect distinguished from all others
by the adoration of fire, or, which is more consonant with
the customs of mankind, to have reduced the practice to
systematic order. JMiracuIoiis events attended his origin ;

his life was, like that of all other lawgivers, a tissue of ex-
traordinary occurrences ; and according to some of his fol-
lowers, he was taken up into heaven, instead of dying a
natural death. Zoroaster was born about 589 years before
Christ, and his disciples subsisted in Persia until the over-
throw of Jezdedjerd, king of that country, by the Mahome-
tan Caliph Omar; whence historians date the era of the mo-
dern Gabres from the first year of the reign of this sove-
reign. Some months after the death of Jezdedjerd, the
persecution of the Mahometans induced many of them to
withdraw to Kohistan, a mountainous district in the present
province of Khorassan, where ti'.ey dwelt for an hundred
years. They subsequently emigrated to the island of Ormuz,
in the Persian Gulf, where they remained fifteen years
stationary; and then sailing for India, landed at Diu. But,
on consulting certain oracular declarations in their sacred
writings, they discovered that their residence was not auspi-
cious here; and, again committing themselves to the sea,
reached a fertile part of the coast, having experienced a
frightful tempest on the voyage. The Prince of this ter-
ritory received them favourably ; but observing them to be
numerous and well armed, he engaged the observance of
five separate conditions, before granting them permission
to land; namely, that they should explain the mysteries of
their faith, lay aside their arms, speak the language of India,
and also that their women should appear unveiled, and
that their nuptials, according to the custom of the country,

gabiip:s.

531

rJiould be performed at niglit. The Oahies, finding noth-
ing in their books adverse to these condilions, gladly as-
sented, and landed, profcssintj their desire for peace and
tranquillity. On the other hand, the Indians, discovering
the analogy of some of their ])rinciplcs to their own, per-
mitted them to settle where they chose ; and a portion of
ground being selected, they built a city on it, which was
called Sanjan. Probably, in relation to the place from
whence they had emigrated, they arc more generally call-
ed Parsees, and have subsisted towards a thotisand years in
Guzerat and other pans of the coast of India. Soon after
their arrival, they obtained a new grant of land, whereon
they erected a temple dedicated to fire, in pursuance of a
former vow, if they should escape the storm that had assail-
ed them. Here they remained united for about three cen-
turies after the death of Jezdedjerd, when they dispersed
to Baroach, Surat, and other places, while, in the lapse of
two more, their city was gradually depopulated. The
sovereign of Guzerat, however, being threatened by an
invasion of Mahometans, anxiously recalled them, on which
occasion 1400 were found capable of bearing arms ; but
many of their number fell in an engagement with the ene-
my. Their city was pillaged, and the survivors fled, car-
rying the sacred fire along with them, in quest of another
establishment, which they successively found and abandon-
ed. The fire was conveyed from place to place during
several centuries, and at last the Gabres found an asylum
in Surat, Bombay, and various settlements on the coast of
Malabar, whwe they enjoy the full and undisturbed exer-
cise of their religion.

Part of the original stock remained in Persia, their na-
tive country, where they seem to have experienced even
a harder fate than those who emigrated. In consequence
of the oppressions of their conquerors, the arts known
among them declined, they lost all knowledge of their own
origin and history, and became a poor and degraded race.
At .present they are treated with the utmost rigour, and
most of them have, in consequence, been compelled either
to emigrate, or to abjure the religion of their ancestors.
In addition to other oppressions, tliey are subjected to a
capitation tax of twenty piastres by the Persian government.
The greater proportion inhabit the shores of the Caspian ;
and the cities of Ispahan, no longer the capital of the em-
pire, Yezd, and Kerman. The suburb of the first, which
they occupy, is called Gaurabad, and in the same quarter
is a bridge called the Gaurs Bridge. About a fourth part
of the population of Yezd, which contains 20,000 houses,
consists of Gabres. But the principal resort of old, though
now exhibiting only a few scattered cottages, was a place
in the neighbourhood of the city of Badku, on the peninsula
Abscharon, on the Caspian Sea. Here a natural phenome-
non has served to promote their faith, and rivet them in
the adoration of fire. About 10 miles north-east of the city,
is what is called Atash Kudda, or fire temple of the Gabres,
a remarkable spot, something less than a mile in circum-
ference, from the centre of which a bluish lambent flame
is seen to aiise. When the wind blows, it is elevated to
about eight feet in height, but it is lower in still weather.
All around this place an invisible vapour escapes on dig-
ging up two or three inches of the earth, which is inflamed
on the application of fire ; nay, if a cane tube, or one of pa-
per, be inserted so deep in the ground, and a light applied
to the orifice, aflame resembling that of spirit of wine
immediately bursts forth, which does not injure the tube,
provided the edges be covered with clay. Several temples,
apparently of simple construction, lately stood in this neigh-
bourhood, and, among others, a small one, where a flame
issued from a hollow cane near the altar. Devotees were to
he seen, about forty or fifty in number at a time, who had

made expiatory pilgrimages hither, and subsisted on wild
celery, a kind of Jerusalem artichoke, and other roots,
while they remained. They affirm that this fire has burn-
ed since the flood, and believe that it will last until the end
of the woild. So singular a phenomenon cannot but deep-
ly impress the uncultivated minds of the Easterns, who
would rather seek its origin in some supernatural cause,
than endeavour to explain it by the combination and action
of the didcrent substances of inanimate matter.

According to the principles of the fiabres, their sacred
fire should be found in every town or settlement, and ought
never to be extinguished. If compelled by the pressure
of circumstances to remove, it ought to be carried along
with them ; and it has thus been transferred from place to
place in India, while preserved in vigour, during 800 or
900, or perhaps 1000 years. Some time ago, when from
invasion, or another cause, the whole Gabres were obliged '
to fly, and their houses were burnt, the temple, or edifice
containing the sacred fire, was preserved, which they as-,
cribed to its innate powers of piotection. Concerning this
element they entertain the most extravagant ideas, though
its worship be subservient to that of Hormusd, a divinity
the source of all good. They maintain, that an original
principle, analogous to eternity, (at least nothing more de-
finite can be explained by it,) created light, water, fire,
Hormusd the author of good, and Ariman the author of
evil ; but speech preceded all creation, for by its influence
the formation of beings was effected : Hormusd is adored
for his beneficence, and Ariman held in detestation on ac-
count of his malevolence. The sacred fire Behram, which
is the guardian of the country, is the extract of 1001 fires,
taken from 15 other fires. It must be preserved unextin-
guished in absolute purity ; and many sacred offices are
performed before it, cither by priests in their temples, or
by individuals in private. In the former it is kept up sim-
ply, we conceive, by a supply of wood. It is watched night
and day by priests, and burns on a vase contained within a
grating, which none other may approach. The light of the
sun being brighter than fire, is excluded from their temples;
and if any person of different tenets should approach, the
priests consider themselves defiled, and have to undergo
purification. Independent of this care of the sacred fire,
they entertain a veneration for the element in general.
When once kindled, they deem it sacrilege to extinguish
it, unless by a particular method: A candle must either
burn to the end, or, if they wish to spare a portion, a
small part next the wick is cut off, and, being carried to
the hearth, is left to burn out. A light is blown out by the
wind of a fan or the hand, but never with the breath, for
that is impure ; and should their houses take fire, instead
of extinguishing the flame with water, the surrounding
parts are pulled down, or removed, in order that it may go
out of itself. In short, their general principle is, to allow
it to come naturally to a close, and not abbreviate it by
violence. The Gabres keep different festivals, continuing
six days, as at the beginning of the year ; six particular
festivals afterwards, each of five days; and a festival the
last ten days of the year, during which they believe that
the souls of the virtuous descend to within three bow shots
of the earth. They also observe the anniversaries of their
own birth, and that of their children. But these festivals
are diiferent indifferent places, and some in Persia are un-
known in India. Their prayers are numerous; they are
ofl'ered up not only after natural operations, but on cutting
their hair or nails, the fragments of which are preserved
to be laid in their cemeteries.

Marriage is a favourite condition among the Gabres, and
sterility a reproach. A man is entitled to have only one
wife, but should she have no offspring, he niav, with her
3X2

532

GAIJRES.

conscnl, lake aiiBtlici', the first still conlinuin!^ to dwell along
with hill). Piiit the same privilci^e is not allowed to a wift;.
In Persia, it has been affirmed, that u man might marry
live wives, thoiiirh only the first was to be considered the
true and legitimate one, and hence a preference over
the rest. The husband was entitled, however, to repudiate
her at the end of seven years if she remained sterile; as
also for adultery, or apostacy from her own rclit^ion. It is
added, that if the wife repented of her oflcnce within a year,
and did penance during three years, the parties might be
re-united. Perhaps these points are not suflicicntly esta-
blished, and the authors who have treated of some of tliom
are not aware that marriage is considered to be of five dif-
ferent kinds. 'When a young female has attained matu-
rity, she may demand that her parents shall provide a hus-
band for her; and if they disregard her request, it is a cul-
pable neglect; but if she, on her part, refuses marriage,
and dies a virgin at eighteen, her soul is believed to rc-
jTiain in hell until the resurrection. The marriages of the
Gabres are performed with great pomp and solemnity,
2000 guests being sometimes invited in India, while all the
friends and relatives of the parties arc clothed in their most
splendid attire. A prodigious display of lighted torches
iippears, and anumerous procession is attended by noisy
musical instruments. The ceremony is then performed by
a priest, and the wedded pair occupy their own proper re-
sidence. By a special regulation, which has prevailed
nearly 150 years, the Gabres of India never present any
thing at the great entertainments which embellish their
marriages that has had life in it, because there are always
numbers of Indians invited to participate.

But amidst the most singular customs which have ever
been witnessed among mankind, is the conduct of these
people in the disposal of their dead. They are neither in-
terred nor burned, but e.vposed to be devoured by beasts of
prey. Perhaps there is no custom of the present day, how-
ever extraordinary, that we cannot trace in the records of
antiquity ; and few which were practised in the most re-
mote ages, are altogether extirpated among modern na-
tions. Herodotus, and after him Strabo, acquaint us that
the Magi, who were the original race now described in
these pages, did not inter the bodies of their dead, but ex-
posed them to beasts of prey. The Hyrcanians, or natives
a\ Irak, as we denominate it, had dogs trained, if they could
re(|uire any training, to devour the dead ; and tiie Bactrians
were so tenacious of this fashion, that when Nicanor, gover-
nor for Alexandci-, wished to abolish it, he was very nearly
losing the whole province. According to Justin, the Par-
tliians exposed the dead to be devoured by dogs and bii'ds,
and afterwards buried the naked bones. The ancient inha-
bitants of India left the bodies of their deceased relatives to
be devoured by vultures, which were possibly viewed as
sacred birds. iElian speaks of a nation or tribe, the Barcsei,
which burnt those who died by the course of nature, but
others who fell in battle were exposed to be devoured by
vultures, because these birds were held to be sacred. The
modern Gabres, or Parsees, the worship])ers of fire, expose
their deceased relatives as a prey to vultures, whetlier in
Persia or in India. When a person is about to expire, a
prayer is whispered in his ear, and a dog presented before
iiim ; but it is important that the animal should look in his
face, which is obtained by placing some meat in that di-
rection. Two dogs must be brought for a pregnant woman ;
or if no dogs can be procured, means should be used toattract
the attention of the bird that ij to prey on the body. It ap-
pears that this part of the ceremony mav be postponed until
carrying forth the body to be deposited in the sepulchre,
which is either done in silence, attended by'a numerous as-
senibu;ge) or while women chaunt a kind of requiem. The

repository of the dead is a circular edifice, or low tower,
open al)ove, with a stone lloor, elevated from the ground to
receive the bodies, and inclining towards the centre. By
the letter of the law, this sepulchre, which is called Dakh-
me, should stand only on a hill, and be demolished every
50 years, to expose the carlli to the light of the sun ; but
probably neither of tliese conditions are fulfilled, and we
only know that they arc apart from towns. Several are ■
seen at Bombay and Surat ; the largest about 55 feet in di-
ameter, and 25 feet in height, built up to within five feet of
the top, and having a well oi- sink of 15 feet diameter in
the centre. There are three concentric grooves or com-
partments around the sink for receiving the bodies, which
are loosely wrapped in cloth, the outer for the men, the
next for women, and the interior compartment for the
bodies of children, all with connecting channels to drain ofi'
the fluids, into which they arc partly resolving by the pro-
gress of decay. Nothing can be inore horrible than the
spectacle presented here, whether in the various stages of
putrefaction in its most unsightly form, in the disjointed and
and mangled fragments of the human frame, the overpow-
ering foetor emanating from the corpses, the presence of
the vultures greedily devouring their prey, or glutted with
human flesh scarcely able to take wing, altogether forming
such a combination, as the strength of living man can with
difficulty resist. But the natives liave no such feelings ; on
the contrary, they look for auspicious omens in the very eye
which snail be first torn from its socket. After a certain
interval, the bones are collected towards the sink with iron
rakes, and the communication of subterraneous channels
prevent it from being choked up. The body first interred
in a new-constructed Dakhme ought to be that of an infant,
the child of a priest.

The Gabres nourish a strong predilection for some ani-
mals, and entertain a corresponding aversion for others.
Cows and dogs are in great estimation. They have an anti-
patliy to cats, insects, and reptiles, fiom believing them
created by Ariman,the source of evil ; and Tavernier says,
that in Persia the women destroy all tlie frogs on a certain
day, because a prophet whom they principally venerate, was
once disturbed by these animals. But the zeal of this au-
thor for the Catholic faith has led him, according to his
own acknowledgement, to expose only what is most absurd
in the religion of the Gabres ; hence his accounts, which in
some things are manifestly erroneous, must be read with
caution.

This sect seems to exist in must greater purity in India
tlian in Persia. Their ceremonies, even some of the most
important, are extremely different; and those of the Per-
sian Gabres are compounded of the principles of the Chris-
tians and Mahometans along with their own. The earlier
doctrines of Christianity, and many points of Jewish history,
are especially to be recognised in the baptism of their chil-
dren, the history of their prophets, the escape of the sacred
fire in the semblance of a white dove, and the like. Pro-
bably these have been introduced by the decline of learning,
and from the influence of their priests being unable to pre-
serve their original faith in its purity. But the reverse has
succeeded in India, where the Gabres practise their wor-
ship undisturbed, and have preserved some of their books
of the law, written in a peculiar character, until the present
era.

The moral character of these people is universally es-
teemed. They are quiet, inoffensive, and industrious. At
Bombay and Surat, but especially the former, where they
arc best known, they are highly respected, and one of the
most wealthy some years ago charitably maintained 2000
persons of all different tribes at his own expence, during a
lime of famine. They are among the richest inhabitants of

GAK

GAl

533

tiie island, ami arc acoistorncd lo t;ivc the most magnifi-
cent entci'tainnieiits lo Europeans, vviiilcno one ol their own
sect is IcFt (Icblitute, so much arc tliey distinguishecl lur
munificence and liberality.

See Hyde Keligio Vctcrum Persarum. Zend-Avesta, torn,
ii. iii. ; Moore's JVarrative of iJlltc's Detachment, p. 383;
Ovingtoii's Voyage to Sural ; Hanway's Travels, vol. i. p.
263 ; Abu Taleb's Travels, vol. ii. p. 386 ; M' Donald Kin-
nejr's Geograjihical Memoir of Persia ; Justin, \\h. xli. ;
^//a?j, lib. X. cap. 22. (c)

GABS, the name of a town of Africa, situated on the
south-east part of Tunis, in a bay of the Mediterranean. It
was the Kfiichus of Scylax, and the Tacafie of Ptolemy and
Pliny. Dr Shaw informs us, that the ruins of this ancient
city are still to be seen upon a rising ground, at the dis-
tance of half a mile from Gabs, having been formerly wash-
ed by the sea, which here formed a bay nearly half a mile
in diameter. The greater part, however, of this bay is now
filled up and gained from the sea. Among these ruins are
some beautiful granite pillars, about twelve feet long, and
all of them square ; a form which Dr Shaw had never seen
in any other part of Africa. There are several extensive
plantations of palm trees at Gabs, but the dates are much
inferior both in taste and size to those of Jireed. The prin-
cipal trade of the place consists of the al-hennah, which is
cultivated to a great extent in all the gardens. " Tiiis
beautiful odoriferous plant," says Dr Shaw, " if it is not an-
nually cut and kept low, as it is usually in other places,
grows ten or twelve feet high, putting out its flowers in
clusters, which yield a most grateful smell, like camphor.
The leaves of this plant, after they arc dried and powdered,
are disposed of to good advantage in all the markets of this
kingdom: For witii this all the African ladies that can pur-
chase it, tinge their lips, hair, hands, and feet, rendering
thern thereby of a tawny saffron colour, which, with them,
is reckoned a great beauty. I'he al-hennah, no less than
the palm, requires to be frequently watered : for which
purpose, the river that runs through these plantations is
cantoned out, as it seems to have been in the time of Pliny,
into a number of channels. Distance from Tunis 57 leagues
south, from Wood-rifle three leagues, and from Ellamaite
12 leagues. The baths of Gabs, or the ylquas Tacajiitanas,
are situated at Elhammah, about four leagues to the west-
ward of Gabs, and are described by Shaw. East Long.
10° 2', North Lat. 34°. See Scylax, Peri/i. p. 46 ; Ptolemy,
lib. iv. cap. 3 ; Pliny, lib. v. cap. 4 ; lib. xviii. cap. 22 ; Stra-
1)0, lib. xvii. p. 1 188 ; and Shaw's Travels in Barbary and
the Levant, chap. iv. p. 213.

GADES. See Cadiz.

GADOLINITE. See Minf.halogy.

GADUS. See Ichthyology.

G.^EL. See Celts.

GAERTNER. See History o/" Botany, p. 32.

GAETA, or Gaieta, the Cajeta of the ancients, is the
Tiaitie of a sea port town of Italy, in tlie kingdom of Naples,
and province of Lavora. It is situated on a peninsula,
which is joined to tlie mainland by a nari'ow isthmus. The
fortress, which was erected by Ferdinand I!, of Arragon,
stands upon the rocky promontory; and wlien seen from
Mola, it forms a very striking object, with its white ram-
parts pi'cscnting to the eye, one above the other, its stages
of angles and batteries. The sea .loats into its moals, wliich
are both broad and deep. Its harbour, which is well de-
scribed by Homer, still exhibits the same character. It was
anciently repaired by Antoninus Pius. The streets of the
town arc neatly built and well paved; the houses are built
on porticos ; and the general appearance of the town is
lively within, and picturesque without. " Tlie cathedral,"
says Mr Jluslace, " though not large, nor highly decorated,

is well pioportioned, well lighted, and, hy the elevation of
till- choir, admirably calculated for public worsliip. The
font is a fine anticjue vase of white marble, with basso re-
lievos, represenling Athamas, Ino With a child in her arms,
and a group of Bacchantes. The sculptor was an Athe-
nian ; but such a vase is better calculated for a gallery of
antiques than for the place where it now stands. Opposite
the great portal of the cathedrctl rises an antique column,
marked with the names of the winds in Greek and Latin.

The tomb of Munatius Plancus stands upon a bold emi-
nence, on the neck of land which joins the peninsula to the
continent. Like that of Adrian, it is round, stripped of its
marble casing, and converted into a tower with battlements.
The gulf abounds with fish, particularly sturgeon, from
which caviar is made. Gaeta is the see of a bishop, suffra-
gan of Capua. Distance from Naples 40 miles north west ;
from Mola four miles by land, and two by water. East
Long. 13° 28', North Lat. 41° 13'. See Homer Odyss. x.
107 ; and Eustace's Travels, vol. i. p. 475.

GAGE. See Pneumatics.

GAINSBOROUGH, a town of England, in the county
of Lincoln, is pleasantly situated on the eastern bank of the
Trent, which here separates Lincolnshire from Nottingham-
shire. The town is clean, well paved and lighted, and con-
sists chiefly of one long street parallel to the river. The
principal public buildings are the church, the town-hall, the
old hall or palace, the theatre, and the bridge. The church,
which is an irregular building, in a very bad style of archi-
tecture, was lately rebuilt at the expence of the inhabitants.
The pulpit cloth and cushions are made of crimson bro-
cade velvet, trimmed with gold ; and they arc made of ma-
terials which were taken in 1743 at the battle of Dettingen.
The town-hall, which is situated in the market-place, is a
brick edifice, with shops below it and the jail: it is usect
occasionally as an assembly room. The old hall or palace
is a Gothic mansion, situated at the north-west end of the
town. It consists principally of oak timber framing, and
forms three sides of a quadrangle, open to the south. It
has a tower 78 feet high, and the whole building was about
600 feet square. The moats with which it was once sur-
rounded are still visible. It is now converted into apart-
ments for families. The theatre is a small but very hand-
some modern building. The bridge, which is very elegant,
consists of three elliptical arches. It was completed in
179 1 ; and, being private property, a toll is exacted. There
are several meeting-iiouses in the town, and some good
charity schools. This town has a small share in the Baltic
trade, and it carries on a considerable trade in corn and
other commodities to and from the coast. Vessels of 159
tons bur<len can come to the town with the tide. The trade
of Gainsborough is greatly facilitated by the Readley Canal,
which opens a communication with Yorkshire ; and by the
Chesterfield Canal a communication is opened with the
counties of Nottingham and Derby.

About five miles to the south-east of Gainsborough are
vestiges of the city of Sidnacester. On a ridge along the
banks of the Trent, about half a mile to tlie north ofGains-
bot-ough, are some embankments, called the Castle Hills.
The central encam]5ment contains an area of 510 feet in
circuit, and is surrounded by a double fosse and vallum.
The circular part appears to have been a Roman work,
and the rest is Danish. Horse races are annually held at
Gainsborough.

The following is the statistical abstract for the town and
parish in 1811:

Inhai/itcd houses . . . . .1159

Number of families .... 1227

Families employed in agriculture . . 49

Ditto in trade and manufactures . . 628

534

GAL

Males 2446

I'cmales .• 2726

'J'otal populalion . . . . .5172

See Uie Bcaulies of England and tralcs.
GALANCiAL is ilie name of a medicinal root, and the
produce of a plant of the same name. There aie two liinds
of galang;al, the groat and the small ; the last of wliicli is
generally held in the greatest estimation. The great ga-
langal is a tovigli woody root, about 1^ inch thick. It is
whitish within and brown without, and has a thin bark, co-
vered with rings or circles about one-fourth of an inch dis-
tant. It has a bitteiish and a somewhat aromatic taste.
The small galatigal, which is superior in all its qualities to
the great galangal, is a much shorter and smaller root, of
an irregular form. It is commonly the size of the little
finger, being seldom more than half an inch thick, and two
inches long. It is of a pale red colour, with a small ad-
mi.xture of brown on the inside, and of a brownish-red co-
lour on the outside, and is surrounded with many circular
rings, that project a little beyond the rest of the surface.
It is not heavy, but its texture is firm and compact. It cuts
with difficulty with a knife, and leaves a polished surface.
Small galangals must be chosen full and plump, of a bright
colour, compact and sound, and leaving an acrid andinsup-
portably hot taste.

The permanent duty upon galangals is 1/. 8*. per cwt. and
the war duty 9s. id. ; amounting in all to \l. : 17 : 4.

The following Table shews the quantity of this root im-
ported and sold by the East India Company, from the years
1804 to 1806 inclusive :

Years.

March .Sale.

September Sale.

Average
Price per Cvvt.

Cwt,

I'nce.

Cwt.

Price.

L. s. ,1.

1804
1805
1806

896

Z..1810

104
10

Z,.264
18

2 0 5
2 10 9
1 16 0

Twelve cwt. of galangal are allowed to a ton. See Lew-
is's il/a;ma A/fdirn ,• and Milburns's Oriental Commerce.

GALAPAGOS, or Tortoise, or Enchanted Islands^
are the names which have been given to a cluster of desert
islands situated in the Pacific Ocean, in East Long. 268°
18', and South Lat. 1° 22'. They were first discovered by
the Spaniards, and have been since visited by Dampierand
Vancouver. The southernmost island is about 4 miles in
circumference, and the northernmost about U mile. Most
of these islands are flat, and tolerably high. Four or five
of the most eastern are rocky, hilly, and barren, producing
nothing but some shrubs on the shore. Others of this
cluster produce trees of different sorts ; and in some of the
most western of the group, which are 9 or 10 leagues long,
and six or seven bioad, large and tall trees, especially mam-
Hiee trees, grow in extensive forests. In these large
islands, tiie rivers are of a tolerable size. See Dampier's
Voyage round the World, vol. i. and Vancouver's Voyage.

GALASHIELS. See Rokbukghsiiire.

GALAXY, or Milky Way. See Astronomy.

GALBA. See Rome.

GALBANUM is the name of a gum which exudes na-
turally from the joints, or is obtained by incision from the
stem of an evergreen plant, which is found in Persia, Ara-
bia, and some parts of Africa. The following excellent
account of this gum, as an article of commerce, is given by
3\Ir Milburn.

"'Galbanumis a gummy, resinous, rather unctuous sub-
stance, soraetiraes-in the natural drops or tears, but more

frequently in masses composed of a nuinbcr of these blend-
ed together. The drops, when perfect, approach near to a
roundish or oblong figure ; but they commonly lose their
form in the masses. These are pale coloured, semi-trans-
liarent, soft, and tenacious. In the best specimens, they ap-
pear composed of clear whitish tears, often intermixed with
stalks and seeds of the plant. When fresh, the masses and
tears are white, and with age change to yellow or brown.

" When the tears can be procured, they are to be pre-
ferred to the masses or cakes. These tears should be fat-
tish, moderately viscous, and glossy on the surface ; such as
are too fat, of a dark brown colour, and mixed with sticks
and other foreign substances, are to be rejected. The best
cakes are those of a light yellow colour, of a strong, pierc*
ing, and, to most persons, a disagreeable smell, of a bitter-
ish warm taste, not very humid, nor yet quite dry, being of
a nature between a gum and a resin, flaming in the fire,
and with difliculty dissolved in oil. The fewer chips, dirt,
stalks, or other impurities, the belter. A mixture of two
parts of rectified spirits of wine, and one of water, will best
shew its quality, by dissolving all the pure galbanum, and
leaving the impurities. When its foulness renders it of little
value, it is best purified by enclosing it in a bladder, and
keeping it in boiling water till it melts, or becomes soft
enough to be strained by pressure through a hempen cloth.
If this process be skilfully managed, the galbanum loses
but little ot the essential oil, some of which is generally car-
ried off in evaporation."

The following is an account of the quantities imported
and sold at the East India sales in the years 1804 to 1808
inclusive, with the sale amount and average price per cwt.

Years.

March Sale.

Sept. Sale.

Total.

Average
per Cwt.

Cwt.

Price.

Cwt.

Price.

Cwt.

Price.

L. s. d.

1804

Z,.241

L.241

16 I 4

1805

Z,.199

399

598

9 1 2

1806

238

4 3 6

1807

1808

Sixteen cwt. of gum galbanum is allowed to the ton.
The permanent duty is 2/. is. per cwt. and the temporary
or war duty 1/. 8s. per cwt; making in the whole 5/. 12«.
per cwt.

GALEN, one of the most celebrated physicians of ant^
quity, and singular for the unbounded sway which his opi-
nions long maintained over the medical world. He was
born in the 131st year of the Christian era, in Pergamos, a
city of Asia Minor, of which Esculapius, the god of medi-
cine, was considered as the protector. This circumstance,
and the consequent attention which its priests paid to the
medical art, probably rendered it a place well fitted to
cherish in an ardent mind a zeal for medical pursuits. He
flourished in the reigns of M. Aurelius, Comniodus, Lu-
cius, and Severus. He enjoyed great advantages from tlie
literary and scientific attainments of his father Nico, a man
of considerabte wealth, and highly respected for his exem-
plary temper and virtue, as well as for his eminent know-
ledge in literature, geometry, astronomy, and architecture.
His mother is described by him as a woman of strict vir-
tue, and an excellent economist, but unhappy in her tem-
per, often quarrelling with her husband, and even biting
her domestics.

His preliminary edncation, consisting in grammar, arith-
metic, geometry, and astronomy, was continued till he was
fifteen years of age. In these branches he discovered a

GALEN.

535

ready capacity and a retentive nicmury, and iiis attainments
far exceeded those of his fellow scholars. Me then turned
Jiis attention to logic and philosophy. lie stndicd the sys-
tem of the Stoics, hy attending the prelections of Philopa-
tor, and reading the works of Chrysippus. On the latter
he wrote a comment during his early studies. From the
Stoical discipline he is considered as having greatly profit-
ed, by acquiring principles of rigid self-government, which
armed him against the licentious manners of that age. He
studied the Platonic philosophy under Caius, a fellow citi-
zen, a man of singular worth and incorruptibility of cha-
racter. To these studies he was probably indebted for the
elegant direction which was given to the natural fervour of
his mind. His father also gave him an oppurtunity of
learning the Epicurean philosophy, under an Athenian
who had settled in Pergamos. On the various systems of
the day, he so far made up his mind, as to write disserta-
tions on their merits. In these he gave a share of praise
to each, with the exception of the Epicurean, which he re-
jected and opposed. His early studies were not under-
taken with any view of rising in the world, but purely as
conducive to the improvement of his own mind, and the
rational enjoyment of life. But a resolution to cultivate a
philosophy which excludes all exterior glory, very often
proves unsteady, especially where prospects of utility to
mankind seem to exact from an accomplished mind a de-
votedness to a public life. The destinies of Galen were
widely different from these original views. In his seven-
teenth year, lie was determined, by a superstitious regard
to a dream of his father's, to apply to the study of medi-
cine. His pi'evious liberal education had so far enlarged
his mind, as to impress him with the propriety of combin-
ing with his new pursuits the prosecution of his philoso-
phical studies. Natural philosophy, in a particular man-
ner appeared necessary, for the purpose of cultivating a
thorough knowledge of the physical qualities of those ob-
jects which medicine comprehends. He carefully weighed
the merits of the various medical as well as philosophical
systems, and made himself a complete master in the art of
reasoning, as practised by the ancients. Possessed of judg-
ment to guide in some measure his own studies, he changed
his teachers whenever he perceived that no improvement
was to be derived from thern. Hence it was an honour to
have him for a pupil, and to the sophists of the day he was
not a little formidable. Some of his studies were prose-
cuted at Corinth, others at Smyrna. Afterwards he went
to Rome, where he embraced an oppurtunity of studying
■with the teachers belonging to the three mediral sects, the
Rational or Dogmatic, the Methodic, and the Empiric. He
maintained a uniform respect and attachment to all his tea-
chers, but in none did he ever repose blind admiration or
implicit confidence. Determined to take nothing on mere
report, which it was possible for him to examine with his
own eyes, he travelled for the express purpose of seeing
the different articles of the materia medica in their native
country. He went to Palestine to see the opobalsamum
and bitumen, and to Lemnos to see the celebrated Lemnian
earth. He reviewed the metallic productions of Cyprus,
and brought home, for the use of his countrymen, quanti-
ties ol the mineral substances which went under the names
of Cadmia, Pompholyx, Diphryges, and Chalcanthus. He
also examined the articles of diet used in different coun-
tries, and pointed out those which he considered as most
proper for the sick.

After a long residence in Alexandria, and a course of
travels which he had performed in Egypt, he returned at
the age of 28 to practise medicine at Pergamos. He com-
municated to the medical men of that city the information
which he had collected, and directed them in a variety of

experiments on the virtuas ot medicinal plants. He was
honoured with the medical charge of the gladiators, and
gained no small credit by the success with which he treat-
ed their wounds.

A sedition arising in Pergamos, he repaired to Rome,
where he soon acquired very high celebrity by his profes-
sional success in the diseases of some conspicuous indivi-
duals. He cured Eudcmus the philosopher of an inter-
mittent fever, which had been previously mismanaged. He
gave remarkably accurate predictions of the future course
of various cases of disease, and displayed great address in
tracing some instances of indisposition to maladies of the
mind. When called to the wife of Justus, he declared her
illness to have originated in an amorous affection, and dis-
covered the individual who was the object of her languish-
ing attachment. He found that the disease of a servant to
whom he was called, proceeded from the depressing influ-
ence of fear ; and it appeared, on enquiry, that this person
was unable to give a proper account of some property
which had been committed to his charge. In short, Galen
seems to have shone as an accurate student of the pheno-
mena of disease, and to have applied to professional uses
a general and ready knowledge of the human heart.

At Rome he was intimate with the first characters in
the literary world, such as Eudemus and Alexander Da-
mascenus, two celebrated Peripatetic teachers, and Ser-
gius Paulus the praetor, a man of consular dignity, the
most eminent man in Rome for intellectual accomplish-
ments, and for ability in the management of state affairs.
The great success of Galen, his growing character, and
the high remunerations which lie sometimes received, ex-
cited the hostility of his competitors, most particularly
among the sect of the Methodics, wliom he opposed, and
who at that time were in high credit. They represented
his success in practice, and the accuracy of his predictions
in disease, as entirely the effect of accident. The latter
was sometimes ascribed by them to the art of magic. The
annoyance which he sustained from this opposition, and the
breaking out of a plague in the city of Rome, determined
him, in the 37th year of his age, to leave that city, and re-
turn to his native country. But he had not remained long
there, v/hen he was invited to attend the Emperor M. Au-
relius in Acjuileia, and in the train of this emperor he re-
turned to Rome. Aurelius gave him the charge of his two
sons, Commodus and Sextus, during his absence in the
German war. Galen ingratiated himself at court, by per-
forming some successful cures on Commodus, and by
showing the accuracy of his judgment in the prognosis
which he pronounced of an acute disorder with which
Sextus was affected. ^Vhcn the emperor himself was af-
terwards seized with sickness, Galen told him that it was
entirely the effect of an overloaded stomach, and gave hira
relief by a suitable prescription. This benignant emperor
was no less pleased with the philosophic spirit and the
virtuous habits of Galen, than with his professional ability.
On the death of Demetrius, Galen was appointed to sue-
ceed him as the sole compounder of the famous prepara-
tion called thcriaca, a distinction which served to mark him
as the first physician of his day. It does not appear that
Galen continued stationary in Rome till his death. Seve-
ral years of his life, though we know not how many, seem
to have been again spent in his native city. Galen died at
the age of 70. The place of his death is unknown. Some
say that he lived to the age of 87, and a fabulous story was
at one time circulated that he lived 140 years.

The biographers of this celebrated man liave delighted
to recount the virtues for which he v as eminent, such as
fortitude, inflexible justice, and piety. He appears to have
held the ereed of the unity of the Deity. A zealous yfi-i-

536

GAL

ter has laboiiictl to sliow that he died on his way to Judca, on
a journey which he was led to undertake by the claims of the
Christian miracles. From this a hope is suiiifjested, liiat he
had submitted to the rite of Christian l)aplisiii, and died with-
in the bosom ol' the Catholic clnnxh. Tlicse facts, however,
are but ill authenticated. His dutiful sentiments towards his
father, his devotedness to his native country, (the interests
of which he often cultivated to the neglect of his own for-
tunes at Rome,) the s^;rateful veneration which he enter-
tained for his teachers, the sedateness of his maimers, the
correctness of his conversation, which was equally remote
from obscenity and ridicule, the mildness of his temper,
his gentle behaviour towards his servants and all around
liin), and the cheerful animating tone of his discourse with
the sick, are virtues which, though not vincommon, it is
pleasant to find adorning the character of this great physi-
cian.

In his reasonings he was reckoned solid and close, in
every argument confounding his adversaries, and coming
off triumphant. Tlie most unbecoming quality betrayed
in his v.'ritings, is a dis])osition to boast of his own ability,
and to treat other writers with contempt.

He wrote several treatises which have not reached our
day, among which are his books on philosophy and gram-
mar. Five hundred treatises on medicine are ascribed to
him, and half that numljer on other subjects.

Galen, though possessed of a mind too independent to
submit implicitly to any of his predecessors, unconsciously
i'orged chains which enthralled the medical opinions of
many succeeding ages. The contending errors of ancient
systems, produced a very powerful effect on his inquiring
mind. He entertained the plausilile opinion, which was so
imiversal among the ancients, that all particular truths in
pbilosopliy are to be deduced fiom general or first princi-
ples. The specimens of philosophical Irutli, however,
■which he found thus substantiated in the various schools,
were so unsatisfactory, and so often at variance with the
phenomena of nature, that at one time he was strongly dis-
posed to cmlsrace that philosophy, wliich declares the uni-
versal uncertainty of hnman knowledge, a system which,
under the name of Pyrrhonism, was at that time very pre-
valent. From this he was |)reserved, by contemplating the
satisfactory results which mathematical science afforded in
the problems of geometry and astronomy, and, in a parti-
cular manner, the calculation of eclipses, and the undoubt-
ed utility of dials and other mathematical instruments. On
comparing the proofs of the certainty of science, with the
numerous specimens of its errors, he was not induced to
abate his exchisivo confidence in synthetic reasoning, but
drew the inference, that the true data or first principles,
which were the foundations of natural science, had not yet
been discovered. He conceived that he himself was des-
tined to lead the way in the investigation of medical truth.
To this object accordingly all his efforts were powerfully
directed. If he had not laboured under the error now
mentioned, which was derived from Aristotle, an error
common to him with other men of learning in that age,
and which never indeed lost its dominion over science till
the appearance of the A'ovum Organon of Bacon. Galen
v ould have produced a work as conspicuous for solidity and
minute information, as for genius and comprehensiveness
of thought. Future ages would then have approved while
they wondered. His st-stem, though defective, and often
rendered illusory by the intermixtme of the subtile doc-
trines of Aristotle, was ingenious and well connected. His
talents enabled him to stop the spirit of improvement for
fifteen centuries; :.iit now, when emancipated from his
illegitimate dominion, we are enabled to profit by his

labouiR, and to contemplate in his writings a mighty mo-
nument of genius and industry, fitted at once to animate
exertion, and to repress presumption. For an account of
his opinions, see the Ilialwu 0/ Anatomy, and the Hinlory
0/ IVJedicin'k.

Galen wrote with elegance in the ordinary dialect of llie
Greek language, inclining to the Attic.

The Greek editions of hjs works are those of Aldus and
Aud. Asulanus, printed at Venice in 1525, in five folio
volumes ; and that of Hieron Gcmusa2us at Basle in 1538,
in the same form.

The editions of Latin translations ofhis works are more
numerous, and wei-e published at Paris, Venice, and Basle.
KeviC Chartrier p'llilished his works in Greek and Latin,
along with those of Hippocrates, at Paris. See Eloy's Diet.
Hist. ; Le Cleic's Hmt. de Merlicine ; and the prefatory
dissertations to the diffeient editions of Galen's works.

(D.H.)

G ALICIA, a province of Spain, situated in the north-
west angle of that kingdom ; is bounded on the south by
Portugal, on the north and west by the .Atlantic Ocean, and
on the east by Asturias and Leon. It lies between 41° St/
and 43° 46' North Latitude, and between 6° 10' and 9° 10'
West Longitude, forming a very irregular kind of square,
extending about 40 leagues from east to west, and 46 from
north to south. It takes its name from its ancient inhabitants,
theCallaici,orGallEeci,and formerly comprel.ended a part of
Old Castile. In its mountainous districts, as well as in those
of Asturias and Biscay, the Cantabrians resisted all the
power of the Roman armies; and in 714, presented the
strongest barriers to the invasion of the Moors. Galicia
was constituted a kingdom in the year 1060, by Ferdinand
the Great, king of Leon and Castile, and was assigned as a
province to his son Don Garcias ; but till the reign of Fer-
dinand and Isabella, in 1474, the inhabitants maintained,
amidst their mountains and rivers, much of their original
independence. The nobility, without paying great regard
to the royal authority, acted as sovereigns in their respec-
tive territories, and encouraged their vassals in their ma-
rauding practices. But, by the exertions of Ferdinand and
Isabella, these disorders were repressed, the country civi-
lized, and the inhabitants attached to the Castiiian mo-
narchy.

The country is in general covered with mountains, most
of which are well wooded, and very abundant in game. An
extensive mountainous chain, which proceeds from the Py-
renees near Roncevallos, traverses Galicia from Leon, till it
terminates at Cape Finisterre, the most westerly point of
land in the province. The most considerable part of this
branch is occupied by the mountains of the Sierra de Mon-
donedo, which occupy the whole of the north-eastern ex-
tremity, and extends northwards as far as Cape Ortegal.
The principal rivers in the province are, the Eo, En, or
Rio de JSliranda, which runs fiom south to north along
the common boundaries of Galicia and Asturias, and falls
into the Northern Ocean above Ribadeo ; the Sil, which
rises in the moimtains to the west of Leon, and proceeding
westwards in a very circuitous course of 33 leagues, joins
the Mino a few leagues north of Orense ; the Miuo or
Minho, (in Latin Minius, so named from the vermilion
which is found in abundi-.nce in its vicinity,) which rises in
the east of the Sierra Mondonedo, and, after a course of 52
leagues in a south-west direction, falls into the Atlantic near
the port of Guardia ; the Tambra or Tamaris, which gives
the name of Taniaricians to the people on its banks, and
runs for the space of 20 leagues from the north east to the
south-west ; the Ulla, which originates in the inteiior of
the country, and has a course of 23 kagues in a souiii-east

GALICIA.

537

direction ; tlic Mantleo, the F.ume, and a numbcv of others
to the amount ol" seventy, besides an immense number of
small streams.

The province of Galicia is said to have been formerly
celebrated for rich mines of gold and silver ; but its metal-
lic productions at present are chiefly copper, lead and tin.
Between Corunna and Betanzos, there are quarries of jas-
per and white marble ; and in other places there are lound
also marcassite, vitriol, sulphur, &c. The country abounds
in mineral waters, and especially in hot springs, many of
which are well frequented for the purpose of bathing. One
pari of the town of O reuse, in consequence of the number
of these thermal waters, which warm the air by their va-
pours, enjoys all the mildness of spring, while the opposite
part is experiencing all the rigours of winter. There is one
wonderful spring called Lousana, at the source of the river
Lours, on the mountain of Cebret, which, though 20 leagues
distant from the sea, and raised considerably above its level,
is observed to ebb and flow with the tide. Its waters also
are at one time as cold as ice, and at another extremely
warm, in which latter state they are always most copious.
In the forests and mountainous districts are found a variety
of wild animals, particularly roebucks, hinds, stags, boars,
and a great quantity of game. In its numerous rivers and
extensive coasts, immense quantities of fish are taken, par-
ticularly salmon, sardin herrings, shad, trout, lampreys,
skate, eels of all kinds, and above all the hog-fish, which
has no bones, and being caught in the months of November
and December, are frequently sent quite fresh into the pro-
vinces of Castile and Leon.

There may be said to be three different temperatures in
the different districts of the province ; that of the coast,
which is generally mild and gentle ; that of the mountains
towards the north-east, which is cold, damp, and rainy ; and
that of the valleys towards the south-west, which is warm,
dry, and pleasant. It is indeed of all parts in Spain the most
subject to frequent rains and a cloudy atmosphere ; but it
is every where salubrious, and generally productive. There
are vast quantities of lofty trees, especially oak, walnut,
chesnut, and hazel ; and in many places are seen mulberry,
orange, and lemon trees, vines, apples, and a great variety
of other excellent fruits. Though in some parts the soil is
not very fertile by nature, the industry of the inhabitants has
done much for its improvement. The lands frequently
bear wheat, barley, rye and oats ; and great quantities of
maize, millet, flax, hemp, pulse, and excellent vegetables.
The farmers fatten great numbers of cattle, besides raising
some good horses, mules, and a fine breed of asses and
liogs. Numerous flocks of sheep and goats arc seen upon
the ridges of the mountains ; and in many places abundance
of excellent poultry is reared.

There are fewer manufactures in Galicia than in the other
provinces of Spain ; and, though the inhabitants are re-
markably industrious, they seem to have little inclination
for the more noechanical arts, or the occupations of com-
merce. There are at Corunna and Ferrol rope-works and
manufactories of sail-cloth, chiefly for the use of the Span-
ish navy. In the province of Lugo, woollen stuffs, hosiery,
and coarse cloths, are made. In the territory of Monfortfe,
in the county of Lernos, there are manufactories of silk,
which produce a considerable revenue. There are also
made in the province, leather, tapes, soap, some printed ca-
licoes, tolerably good table linen, a considerable number of
hats, and great quantities of knit stockings, of which last ar-
ticle it is calculated that 25,000 pairs are annually sent to
the neighbouring provinces, and double that number to
America. Its principal articles of commerce are cattle,
mules, horses, fish, cloth, wool, and wine, which are sent
into the other provinces; salt provisions, particularly salted

Vol. IX. Part IL

fish, which goes to foreign countries ; leather, skins, hides,
hats, soap, table-cloths, napkins, stockings, to America,
Its exportations are made from the port of Corunna, and
its imports, excepting those from America, are received
by Vigo.

Galicia contains seven cities, 74 towns, 3434 villages, and
3683 parishes. The principal inland towns are San Jago
de Compostella, the capital of the province, and residence
of the archbishop, Lugo, Orense, Mondoncdo, and Tuy,
each the seat of a bishop, Porto-Marin, Portvelezar, Tor-
beo, Velezar, Salvatierra, Monfortfe de Lemos, Viana,
Monterey, Ponte vedra, kc. On the coast are forty sea-
ports, but the greater part are very small, and the most
worthy of notice are Corunna, Finistcrra, Bayona, Gondo-
mar, Muroz, Rivaldeo, Ferrol, Betanzos, Vigo, Sec. The
population of the province, in proportion to its extent, is
greater than that of any other in Spain ; and is estimated at
nearly one million and a half. The people are chiefly em-
ployed in agriculture and fishing ; and are distinguished by
their simplicity of manners, hospitality of disposition, and
general disregard of the arts of luxury. They are large
and robust in their persons, commonly barefooted, and ca-
pable of supporting every kind of fatigue. The women
are fair and tolerably handsome, with fine teeth, and very
regular, but not very expressive features. The Galicians
are naturally of a martial spirit, and great numbers of tlie
young men enter the army even at fifteen years of age.
They pique themselves upon their descent from the old
Christians, who have never intermarried with converted
Jews or Moors ; and they are equally noted for their regard
to religion, and their loyalty to the king. They are serious,
grave, sober, rather solitary and retired in their habits, but
uniformly distinguished by probity and courage. Their
language is a mixture of the ancient Castilian and of the
Portuguese, with several expressions of the Latin. They
are said to have been the first poets in Spain ; and a few of
their ancient verses are still retained by tradition. But the
chief characteristic of the Galicians is their inclination to
emigrate to other provinces in quest of employment, though
they can neither be said to be very poor or in >yant of stib-
sistence at home. It is supposed that not less than 100,000
annually leave the province in this view, many of whom
never return. They are uniformly employed as labourers
in the time of vintage and harvest, in the two Castiles, and
Portugal ; and, when they do not appear to assist in these
countries, much of their valuable produce, fiom the sloven-
ly manner in which it is gathered, is actually trodden under
foot. The great proportion of servants in all the principal
towns of Spain are either Galicians or Asturians, who are
generally preferred on account of tlieir fidelity and obedi-
ence. They are ready to perform any kind of occupation, '
however servile, sweeping chimneys, or cleaning shoes;
and the porters and water carriers in Madrid, Cadiz, and
even at Lisbon, are commonly Galicians; at tlie same time
it must be observed, that the name Gallego, which properly
signifies a Galician, is now applied to the occupation as
well as to the country ; and is given to a person from any
other province exercising the employment of a porter.
These Galicians are every where remarkable for their sub-
missive disposition, and are too often treated like slaves ;
but their patient endurance is said to proceed from a fear of
displeasing rather than from any meanness of spirit; and, in
their native country, their character is found to be sufficient-
ly decided. As a proof of the general honesty of the Galici-
ans, it is worthy of notice, that in many parts of the province,
but particularly in the vicinity of Orense, where much
excellent wine is made, every proprietor deposits the pro-
duce of his vintage in vaults, at a little distance from the
villages ; and, though these cellars are neither guarded by

3 Y

533

GVL

GAL

any \v;Uchnicn, nor even in many cases secured by shut
ilooi's, there is no instance of a theft being commiteil uik)ii
the properly thus in a manner cklivered over to the public
faith. See Laborde's View nf H/iain, \o\. \\. ('/)

GALICIA, or Gallitzia, is the name p;iven to the sou-
thern part of the possessions which the House of Austria
acquired at the partition of Poland in 1772. The northern
part, called Lodemeria, was an ancient dependence of the
kingdom of Hungary. Galicia is separated from Hungary
by the Carpathian mountains ; and, including Lodemeria, it
contains 1280 square German miles, or nearly 3555 stjuare
leagues.

The following Table will shew the agricultural state of
this provi]ice. It contains in metzens, a German measure
equal to nearly 5i French bushels, the annual produce of
the province.

Rye 1,148,123 Metzens.

Wheat 415,001

Barley 793,372

Oats 1,656,155

Pease 98,323

Millet 76,370

Lentils 76,370

Forage 3,130,177 Cart loads.

Kumberof horses in 1780 . 35,079

Number of horned cattle . 1,556,275

Draught cattle .... 38,234

Farms 3,253

The following Table will shew the state of its manufac-
turing industry at the same period of 1780.

Water-mills 4694

Wind-mills 57

Saw-mills 259

Oil-mills 472

Powder-mills ..... 11

Paper-mills . . . . . . 41

Iron forges ...... 40

I^Ianufactories of potash .... 25

(llass-works ..... 21

Salt-works of various kinds . . . 232

The trade which Galicia carries on with Poland, Hun-
gary, &c. consists principally of grain, cattle, hides, wax,
honey, salt, and other productions of its territory.

The following is the number of towns and population of
(jalicia and Lodemeria in 1 780, according to M. Schloetzer.

Towns 199

Bourgs Ill

Villages 5575

Houses 408,447

,,, . .. C Males 1,112,442

, Christians J,-, , , \nr.r,,,

^Females 1,093,311

. 5 Males 68,601

Jews . . . ^p^j^^igs 70,472

Total population 2,344,826

Galicia is watered by the Dniester, the San, and several
other rivers. Lemberg is the capital of the province.

GALILEO Galilei, an eminent Italian astronomerand
natural philosopher, was born at Pisa, in Italy, on the 13th
February 1564, and was the son of Guilia Ammanati di
Pescia, and Michelagnolo Vincenzio Galileo, a Florentine
nobleman, who dislinguished himself by his writings on
musical subjects. The earlier years of (ialileo were occu-
pied with the study of music and druwinij, in both of which

ho mailc singular progress; but as tiie limited foi-tune of
his father did not permit him to settle his son in a state of
comfortable independence, he resolved to educate him as a
physician, and alter going through the usual course of in-
struction at Florence, he was entered in 1582, at the uni-
versity of Pisa, as a student of philosophy and medicine.
The doctrines of Aristotle, which were then taught in the
public schools of Italy, were not congenial to a mind like
Galileo's, and he was c'|ually disappointed in the jjleasure
which he anticipated from the study of physic. He there-
tore abandoned for ever the medical profession, and devoted
himself with unremitting ardour and proportionate success
to the study of mathematics. Without the aid of a master
he studied the different books of F.uclid, and made hiniself
master of the writings of Archimedes, and the other an-
cient geometers. His fame as a mathematician was soon
widely extended ; and in the year 1389, before he had reach-
ed his 26th year, the Duke of Tuscany appointed him to the
mathematical chair in the university of Pisa. In the dis-
charge of his duties as a professor, he incurred the resent-
ment of some of the more violent Aristotelians, whose doc-
trines he did not scruple to oppose ; and his tranquillity and
his studies were frequently disturbed by the hostility of his
metaphysical enemies. He resolved therefore to change
the place of his residence, and he gladly accepted of an in-
vitation which he received to fill the mathematical chair in
the university of Padua. He left Pisa in 1592, and conti-
nued in l^is new situation at Padua for 18 years, raising the
reputation of the university by the brilliancy of his talents,
and diffusing a taste for science through the whole of Tus-
cany. His affection for his own country, however, induced
him to accept, in 1611, the mathematical chair at Pisa, from
Cosmo II. Grand Duke of Tuscany, who annexed to it a
very handsome pension. The same nobleman afterwards
invited him to Florence, with the title of principal mathe-
matician and philosopher to his highness, and continued his
former pension, without any obligation to discharge the du-
ties of the professorship.

In these various situations, Galileo's attention was par-
ticularly occupied with the subjects of optics and mecha-
nics. During his first residence at Pisa, he was led to the
idea of measuring time by the pendulum, by observing the
motion of a lamp in the cathedral of Pisa. From reading
the treatise of Archimedes, De /ih qua vehuntur in aqua,
he was led to the invention of his Balance for determining
the proportion of the ingredients in mixed metals. He con-
structed a glass thermometer, which contained water or air ;
and in 1597 he invented his geometrical and military com-
pass, of which he published a description at Padua in 1606.
In April or May ! 609, when he was on a visit to Venice, he
was accidentally informed that a Dutchman, of the name of
Jansens, had invented an instrument through which distant
objects had the same appearance as if they were brought
near the eye. Galileo reflected deeply on the subject of
this contrivance, and, from his thorough knowledge of the
properties of lenses, he was soon enabled not only to disco-
ver the principle of its construction, but to complete one of
the instruments for his own use. He immediately applied
his telescope to the heavens, and made those splendid dis-
coveries of which we have already given a full account in
our History of Astronomy.

It was during these observations that he was invited to
l-'lorence, where he enjoyed the fullest leisure to pursue
them with diligence, and to carry on a correspondence with
the principal philosophers of Germany, respecting the dis-
coveries which he had made, and the great truth of the
earth's motion, which they tended to establish. Galileo
had scarcely enjoyed four years of tranquillity at Florence,
when the fame of his discoveries, and his sentiments re-

G ALT LEO.

539

specliiip; the stability of the sun, rcnr.tiod the cars of the
holy iiic|uisitioi). Formal complaints were laid before that
vigilant body; and (iaiileo was summoned to appear at
Home, in 1615, to answer for the heretical doctrines which
he had tau^^ht. lie was accused of maintainini; the motion
of the earth, and the stability of the sun; of teaching the
same doctrine to several of his disciples ; of carrying on a
correspondence on the subject with several (ierinan ma-
thematicians; and of having published it, and attempted to
reconcile it to Scripture, in his epistles to Marc Velser, in
1612. A meeting of the in(|uisition was held on the 25th
of February 1616, and they decreed that (4alilco should be
enjoined by Cardinal Bellarmine, to renounce the doctrines
■which he taught, and to promise neither to teach, nor do-
lend, nor publish them ; and that, if he refused to acquiesce
in this sentence, he should be thrown into prison.* On the
following day, the 26th of F'ebruary, Galileo appeared be-
fore Cardinal Bellarmine ; and having declared that he
would abandon the doctrine of the earth's motion, and would
neither defend it nor teach it, either in his conversation or
in his writings, he was dismissed from the inquisition. The
mildness of this sentence was no doubt owing to the inter-
position of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and other persons
of great rank and influence at the papal court, who took a
■warm interest in the fate of Galileo. The inquisition, how-
ever, was not satisfied with his abjuration. They issued a
decree, declaring the new opinions to be heretical and con-
trary to scripture, and prohibited the sale of every book in
which they should be taught.

Galileo returned to Florence, and prosecuted his studies
■with his usual ardour and success. The opinions which he
had disavowed, acquired additional strength from every
new discovery. He resolved, therefore, to publish them to
the world, but in such an indirect manner as to prevent, if
possible, any interference on the part of the inquisition. He
accordingly published at Florence, in 1632, his great work,
entitled, Diatogo di Galileo Galilei delle duo masaime Sisteme
del Monde, Tolemaico e Co/iernicano. The subject of the
Ptolemaic and Copernican system is here discussed by
three speakers, Sagredo, Salviatus, and Simplicius, a Pe-
ripatetic philosopher, who defends the Ptolemaic system
with much ingenuity against the overwhelming arguments
of the other speakers.!

The church of Rome again took alarm at the publica-

tion of this work, and fJaliloo was r> scond lime summoned
to ap|)i'ar befoi-c the holy inq\iisition in the year 1633. Al-
though lie had now entered the 70th year of his age, yet he
was compelled to repair to Rome ; and upon his arrival in
that city, he was confined to the aparliiienls of the fiscal of
the iii(|uisitorial tribunal. By the intercession of the Grand
Duke, however, he was jjennitted to i eside in the house of
his ambassador duiing the trial, which lasted about two
months. At the end of this period he was brought up to
receive the sentence of the court, which was signed by se-
ven cardinals. This sentence, which is one of the most rc-
maTkal)le documents which the history of superstition can
present, begins by recounting the former heresies of (iali-
leo, and reminding him of the gentle punishment which had
been indicted. It accuses him of having obtained disho-
nourably a license for printing his book at Florence, and
ordains that he shall, in the most solemn manner, abjure
the Copernican system, as contrary to the scriptures; and
bind himself by oath never to maintain or support it, either
in his conversation or his writings. In order that this great
heresy should not pass altogether without punishment, the
court also ordained, that the sale of his Dialogues should
be prohibited by a public edict ; that he should be detained
in the prison of the inquisition ; and that he should for three
years recite once in the week the seven penitentiary psalms,
the court reserving to itself the power of modifying or re-,
moving this sentence.

The abjuration of Galileo, acopy of which we have given
below,]; was signed on the 22d June 1633, and exhibits a
mortifying jjicture of human imbecility. If the ignorant
zeal of the assembly of cardinals has met with universal
condemnation, what must we think of the conduct of a phi-
losopher, who, for the sake of a few years of freedom, could
solemnly abjure and renounce opinions which he implicit-
ly believed, and which he had himself established by years
of incessant labour ? He who has the boldness to maintain
opinions in opposition to the vulgar prejudices of the age
in which he lives, should have also the fortitude to bear the
consequences to which they may expose him. The fame
of discovering and defending truth, is in no small degree
tarnished by the meanness of afterwards abjuring it; and
yet the history of persecution affords more than one exam-
ple of science having exposed herself to this worst of in-
dignities.

• On the authority of many distinguished writers, \vc have stated, in our history of Astho^omt, that Galileo w-as thrown into solitary,
confinement. This, however, is u mistake, as tliere is abundance of evidence to prove tliat he was merely threatened widi confinement, if.
he should refuse to acquiesce in the sentence of the inquisition.

f Sagredo, a learned A'enetian, and Salviatus, a learned Floi'entinc, were two of Galileo's intimate friends, but were botli dead wlien lie
published liis Dialogues. They had often discussed the same subject with Galileo at Venice, and tlieir names were introduced as a mark of
respect to iheir memory.

\ " Ego Gal:la:us (Jalilxi filius quondam A'incentii Galilrei Florentinus artatis mea .annonim 70 constitulus pei'sonaliter in judicio, et genil-
flexus coram vobis Emineiitissimus et UeveremUssimus Dominis Cardinalibiis universa; Chri-stiana; Heipublicw contra hxreticam |)ravitateni
gcneralibus inquisitoribus, habens ante oculos meos Sacrosancta Evangelia, qua; tango propriis manibus, juro me semper credidisse et nunc
credere, et Deo .adjuvante in posteriim creditiirum omne id, quod tenet, prxdicat et docet S. C.atholica et .Vpostolica Romana Ecclesia. Sed
quia ab hoc S. Officio, co quod postquam milii cum prxcepto fuerat ab eodcm juridici injunetum, ut omnino desererem fafsam opinionem,
qu.i; tenet solem esse centrum ac moveri, nee jiossem tenere, defendere aut docerc quovis modo vel scripto pr.-edictam falsam doctrinam et
posttjuam mihi notificatiim fuerat pridictam doctrinam re]5ugnaiitem esse Sacra: Scrlptura; : Scrips! et t)pis maiidavi librum in quo eandem
doctrinam jam d.amnatam traclo et adduco rationes cum magna efticacia in faiorem i])sius, non .att'ercndo ullam st>lutionem : idcirco judica-
tus sum vehementer suspcctus de lisresi, videlicet, quodtenuerim et crediderim, solem esse centrum mundi et immobilem, et terrain non
esse centrum ac moveri.

" Idcirco volens ego eximere a mcntibus Eminentianim Vestrarum et cujuscunque Cliristiani Catliolici vehcmcntem banc suspicionem ad-
versum me jure conceptam, corde sincere et fide non ficla abjuro, nialedico, et detestor supra dictos errores el hsreses, et generaliter quem-
cuiujue alium errorem et sectam contrarian! supradicta; S. Ecclesi.-e, et juro me in poslerum nunquaiu amplius dicturum, aut asserturum voce
aut scripto (luidquam, propter quod possit halDeri de me sjmilis suspicio ; sed si cog'novero aliquem hsreticum aut suspectum de hxresi,
denuntiaturum ilium huic S. Officio aut Inquisitnri et oi-dinario loci, in quo fiiero. .hiro iiisuper ac proniitto me impleturum et observatu-
rum integi-e omnes ])a?nitentias quae mihi imposit;e sunt, aut imponentur ab hoc S. Officio, Quod si contingat me aliquibus ex dictis mci.s
promi.ssionil)us, proteslationibus, et juramentis (quod Ucus avertal^ contrarie, subjicio me omnibus poenisae suppliciis, qu.t a Sacris Canoni-
bus et idiis constitutionil)Us generalibus et particularibus contra hujusmodi dclinquentes statiita et proraulgata fueraat : sic me Ueus adjuvet
ct Sancta ipsius Evangelia, qiiK tango propriis manibus.

"Ego Cialikus fialila:! supradictus abjuravi, juravi, promisi et me obligavi ut supra et in horam fidem moa propria manu subscripsi prse-
spiiti chirographo mes abjurationis, et recitavi de vcrbo .ad verbum Koms in Cor.vciitu Minerva: hac die22 Juiiii aniii IbJ.j.

"Ego Galil.TUS (ialilxi abjuravi ut supra inanu propria."

3 y 2

540

GALILEO.

Had Galileo maintained willi firmness the truth of liis
doctrines, he might even have succeeded in disarming ilie
bigotry of his enemies ; and if he failed in this, he would
have at least secured the approbation of future ages. The
truth of the Copcrnican system was at that time admitted
by numerous distinguished and pious individuals, and there
were many members even of the Catholic church who
found no difliculty in reconciling it with the apparently
opposite language of scripture. It is a curious fact, whicli
has not been noticed in any of the lives of Galileo which
we have seen, that, during the first persecution of Galileo
in 1615, or rather before it, an illustrious Neapolitan noble-
man, Vincenzio Caraffa, had requested the opinion of Paul
Antony Foscarinus, a learned Carmelite, respecting the
Pythagorean and Copernican doctrine of the mobility of
the earth. In his letter upon this subject, he reconciles
the various passages of scripture with the new system,
•which he considers as well founded. He notices, with
praise, the opinions of Galileo and Kepler; and he dedi-
cates his epistle to the chief of the order of the Carme-
lites. This learned epistle was dated at Naples on the 6th
January 1615, and was printed by permission at Florence
on the 1 Ith September 1630, three years before the second
persecution of Galileo,

When we consider, therefore, that the new system had
been promulgated more than a century before the time of
Galileo, by Copernicus, who was himself a Roman Catho-
lic clergyman ; that the book which contained it was dedi-
cated to the Pope himself; that the Copernican doctrines
were embraced by Roman Catholic bishops and cardinals;
and that they were maintained with impunity in Italy by
some pious Catholics, at the very time when Galileo de-
fended them ; we can scarcely hesitate to believe, that Ga-
lileo had been a habitual and marked enemy of the Catho-
lic faith, and that the inquisition had seized the opportunity
of punishing him for his astronomical opinions, when they
were irritated only at his irreligious sentiments.*

Throtigh the influence of some distinguished individuals
at Rome, Pope Urban VIII. softened the rigour of the
sentence, and confined him for a while to the palace of the
Garden de Medici at Rome. On account of his state of
health, Galileo was allowed to leave Rome ; and as the
plague then raged at Florence, he was sent to the archi-
episcopal palace at Sienna, the residence of the Arch-
bishop Piccolomini, where he continued the prosecution of
his studies, and demonstrated the propositions respecting
the resistance of solids. After remaining about five months
at Sienna, when the plague at Florence had disappeared,
he was allowed to retire to his villa at Bellosguardo, and
afterwards to that at Arcetri, in the neighbourhood of Flo-
rence, where he spent the remainder of his life.

In this tranquil spot, he observed the phenomena of the
moon's libration, he continued his observations on the mo-
tions of Jupiter's satellites, and he proposed a new method
of finding the longitude at sea, by observing on different
meridians the frequent eclipses of these secondary planets.
This important subject had occupied his attention before
the year }615, and the secretary of state to Cosmo, Grand
Duke of Tuscany, had communicated the invention to the
Tuscan Ambassador at Madrid, for the information of Phi-
lip king of Spain ;t but nc attempt seems to have been
made by the Spanish government to adopt it in their navy.
Galileo, however, persuaded of its practicability, offered the
use of his discovery to the States General of Holland,

through Grotius ambassador to the Queen of Sweden, at
Paris. The negociation with the States of Holland was
carried on by M. Diodatus, a celebrated French lawyer.
The States General eagerly embraced the proposal, and
returned a polite letter in answer to Galileo's offer, accom-
panied with a golden chain as a testimony of their grati-
tude. I'our of the most distinguished Dutch navigators,
astronomers, and geographers, were appointed as a com-
mittee to examine both the theory of the new method, and
the proposal which Galileo had made of a method of dimi-
nishing the agitation of a ship, for the purpose of observ-
ing the eclipses of Jupiter's satellites. Martin Hortensius,
a mathematician at Amsterdam, and Williani Bleau, a geo-
grapher, and both members of the committee, were ap-
pointed commissioners to visit Galileo, and receive instruc-
tions from him respecting the theory and practice of his
discovery. When they arrived at Arcetri, they had the
mortification to find that Galileo had recently been depriv-
ed of his sight. He communicated to them, however, his
views respecting the determination of the longitude, and
occupied his hours of study in computing tables of the
motions of the satellites of Jupiter. We are not distinctly
informed what was the result of this interview ; but astro-
nomical instruments were then in an imperfect state, and
Galileo's method, though admirable in itself, could be of
no practical use, till the eclipses of the satellites could be
computed from accurate Tables of their motions.

In the year 1636, when the Count de Noailles, the
French ambassador at Rome, was returning to Paris, he
paid a visit to Galileo at Arcetri, with whom he had for-
merly corresponded. Galileo presented him with a manu-
script copy of his great work, entitled Discursus et Demon-
strationes MathematktS circa duas novas Scientias pertinentes
ad Mec/ianicam el Motiim Localem. The Count de Noail-
les shewed this work to several of the philosophers at Pa-
ris, and actually sent it to be printed by the Elxivirs at
Leyden. Galileo was just preparing to send manuscript
copies of the work into Germany, Flanders, England,
Spain, and perhaps into some parts of Italy, | when he re-
ceived a letter from the Elzivirs, stating that the Count de
Noailles had put the MS. into their hands, and requesting
him to transmit a dedication as soon as possible. Galileo
was delighted with this plan, and drew up, in the most flat-
tering terms, a dedication to the Count, which is dated at
Arcetri, March 6th, 1638. This work contains some of his
finest discoveries. The doctrine of motion is treated ably
and geometrically. The theory of equable motions, and of
motions uniformly accelerated and retarded, and of these
two combined, is correctly explained. Galileo had the ho-
nour of first demonstrating, that the spaces described by
heavy bodies are as the squares of the times, and that ail
projectiles move in a parabolic orbit. He also laid the
foundation ot the subject of the strength of materials, and
treated with much perspicuity the doctrine of the force of
percussion.

The last days of Galileo's life were spent in the investi-
gation of the force of percussion, and some other mecha-
nical subjects ; and, in consequence of the intensity of his
application, he brought on a slow fever, and a palpitation
of the heart, which carried him off on the 8th of January
1641, in the 77th year of his age. The death of this great
man was universally regretted, and the sciences were con-
sidered as having sustained an irreparable loss. His body
was carried from Arcetri to Florence, and at the desire of

* Sec our Life of CopEnxtcus, wliere we have slated some additional reasons for this opinion,
f This correspondence is published in the O/itre fi' GdiVfo, vol ii. p. 4.55.

i Galileo mentions this fact in the dedication of this work to tht Count of Noailles. Ilis hesitation about s .nding MS. copies into Italy is
curious: " et foi'san," says he, " in loca quaedam Italis."

OAL

GAL

541

the Grand Duke of Tuscany, he was buried in tijc church
of the Holy Cross, in the ancient sepulchre of the noble
family of Galilei.

The most complete edition of Galileo's works, was pub-
lished at Padua in 174'!., in 4 vols, folio. This edition con-
tains numerous annotations, and long commentaries, by se-
veral of his disciples. The following is a list of its con-
tents, excluding tlie commentaries which we have men-
tioned :

Tom. I. Le Operazione del compasso Geometrico, e
niilitare di Galileo.

Difesa di Galileo contro alle calunnie ed imposture de
Baldassar Capra Milanese.

Discorso intorno alio cose, che stanno in su I'Acqua, o
die in quella si muovono, di Galileo.

Lettera di Galileo al Sig. Tolomeo Nozzolini.

Delia Scienza Meccanica, opera del Galileo con un
frammento sopra la forza della Percossa.

La Bilancetta di Galileo.

Trattato del modo di misurar colla vista di Galileo.

Tom. II. Sidereus Nuncius.

Comtinuazione del Nunzio Sidereo.

Istoria e dimostrazioni intorno alle macchie solari, e loro
accidenti, comprese in tre lettere scritte al Marco Vclseri
da Galileo.

II Saggiatore di Galileo.

Lettera di Galileo al serenissimo principe Leopoldo di
Toscana in proposito di quanto discorre Fortunio Liceti
del candor Lunare nel cap. 50 del suo Liteosfero.

Lettera di Galileo al (P. Cristoforo Griemberger della
Compagnia di Gcsu in materia) della montuosita della
Luna.

Lettera di Galileo a Monsignor Dini sopra I'uso del Ca-
nochiale, e di Pianeti Medicei.

Risposta di Galileo ad un problema propostogli dall'
illustrissimo Sig. Pietro Bardi de'Conti di Vernio, o?ide
avvcnga, che I'acqua a chi v'entra a/i/iaja /iriiria /redda, e
poi calda fiifi deW aria temfierata.

Lettere di Galileo in proposito de trovare le longitudini
per via de Pianeti Medicei, coH'aggiunta d'cltre lettere
scritte al Galileo intorno alia niedesima materia.

Operazioni Astronomiche di Galileo.

Trattato della Sfera, o cosmographia di Galileo.

Lettere di Galileo a Paolo Gualdo, &c.

Tom. III. Dialoghi delle Scienze Nuove, o sia discorsi e
dimostrazioni intorno a due nuove scienze attenenti alia
Meccanica ed ai movimenti locali di Galileo.

Lettere di Galileo circa le materie trattate nei dialoghi
delle scienze nuove.

Lettere di Galileo, e del P. Castelli del modo di mi-
surare le gocciole d'acqua cadenti sopra una data superficie.

Lettere di Galileo a Curzio Ficchena, nelle quali tratta
della Calamita.

Lettera di Galileo sopra il Fiume Bisenzio.

Lettere di Galileo, del P. Castelli, e del Nozzolini in pro-
posita della stima d'un Cavallo.

Frammenti di Galileo.

Parere di Galileo intorno allangolo del Contatto.

Postille di Galileo al libro intitolato Esercitazioni Filoso-
J^che di Antonio Rocco.

Considerazione di Galileo sopra il Gioco de'Dadi.

Problemi Vari di Galileo.

Pensieri Vari di Galileo.

Tom. IV. Diologo de Galileo delli due massime Sisteme
del Mondo, Tolemaico e Copernicano.

For a particular account of the discoveries of Galileo,
we iTiust refer our readers to the articles Astronomy, Car-
pentry, Dynamics, Epicycloid, ME0HANics,OpTics,and
Pnjeu>iatics. (/3)

CtALILEO's Temperament of the musical scale. In
the Overcnd MS . works in the library of the Royal Insti-
tution in London, vol. i. p. \"5 the temperaments of the
principal notes in the scale, in fractions of the major com-
ma, as jTientioned in the second colunm of the subjoined
Table, are ascribed to the above author, viz.

VIII

VII— '/c

VI— «,c

G»

6+«c

V-fV

•^

F«

-|c

— ^c

!•'

4+fc

+fc

-f^c

III— »c

_4c

+-}c

3-ffc

~¥-

1 6 i:-

Il-fc

—^c

Cff

-Ic

But these would produce an extremely irregular dou-
zeave, as appears from the third column, containing the
temperaments of a regular douzeave, calculated by Mr Fa-
rcy's theorems, F/iUosofihical Magazine, vol. xxxvi. p. 51,
and agreeing very nearly with Dr. Smith's system of equal
harmony, (j)

GALLS, is the name given to morbid excrescences
growing on different plants, in consequence of the attacks
chiefly of hymenopterous insects. The egg of the insect is
deposited in a puncture made with a sharp sting ; and
when it is hatched, the maggot causes a great degree of
luxuriance in tliis part of the plant, which appears in vari-
ous excrescences. Galls are found in the two British spe-
cies of oak. The astringent galls brought from the Le-
vant, and used in dyeing and making ink, are also the pro-
duce of a particular species of oak. The best Aleppo galls
have generally a bluish, and sometimes a greyish and black-
ish colour, inclining to bluish. They are of a close com-
pact texture, are difficult to break, and are unequal and
warty on the surface. The small, white, and broken galls
are by no means good. About 2000 cwt. of galls are annu-
ally used in Great Britain, the value of which, at 61. per
cwt., is 12,000/. The permanent duty upon them is 7s. and
the war duty 2s. 4d.

The following Table, given by Mr. Milburn, shews
the quantity of galls sold at the East India Company's
sales, from 1804 to 1808, with their prices.

.\ver. Price

March Sale.

Sept. Sale.

Total.

per Cwt.

Years.

Cwt,

Price.

Cwt.

Price.

Cwt.

Price.

Z. s. d.

1804,' 330

L2006

L 362

384

Z,2368

6 3 9

1805 1 71

559

594

3666

665

4225

6 7 0

I806| 137

805

186

1167

323

1972

6 2 1

1807 1036

6611-

134

665

1170

7276

6 4 4

1808 > 655

3573

321

1721

976

5394

5 10 6

Twenty cwt. of galls are allowed to the ton. See Oli-
vier's Travels in Persia, and the articles Dyeing, Ink, and
Vegetable Physiology; and Milburn's Oriental Com-
merce, vol. i. p. 137.

GALLE, Point de, is a town in the island of Ceylon,
being the third in point of size, built upon a long rocky
promontory. The fort is about a mile and a half in circuit,
and is situated upon a neck of land, and almost surrounded
by the sea. The works arc extensive and strong, but it
is overlooked by some adjacent eminences. The rooms
are large and bricked, the walls are thick, and the ceilings
boardccl. The houses in the fort are spacious and com-
fortably furnished. That of the commandant is very ex-
tensive. The Europeans live chieRy in the fort, but there
are some good large houses built about it, and extending

542

i.Xh

GAL

along the shore to the southward. Tlie Cingalese live in
cottages and hamlets scattered about in all directions. Tlie
houses both in the town .ind at the harbour are better than
those of Trincomalce. The fort is garrisoned by two or
three companies of Europeans, half a company of artille-
ry, and a native battalion. The numerous batteries com-
pletely command the approach by water. They are in the
old fashioned style, elevated on walls. The harbour, par-
ticularly the outer road, is spacious, and, excepting in a
South-west wind, the inner harbour is secure. The en-
trance to it is narrow. The part of the basin which is
land-locked is very small, but it secures a landing free
from surf, which, according to Lord Valcntia, beats with
prodigious violence on the rocks that form the extreme end
of the peninsula. On one of these rocks is erected the
flag-staff, which therefore stands without the fort. A ca-
nal has been dug between the bay and a small river, for
the purpose of conveying timber from the interior. It is,
however, now in ruins. " ^Ve had here," says Lord Va-
lentia, " excellent yams, good sallading, and cucumbers.
The fruits were bad, mangoes, guavas, custard apples, co-
coa nuts, varieties of oranges, some of which were black
on the outside, and others the true mandarin, shaddocks,
Sfc. The mutton is indifferent; but the beef, the i)oultry,
the bread, and the fish are excellent. At Galle is a neat
manufacture of tortoise shell." The coast and the sur-
rounding country is very mountainous. The greatest quan-
tity of rain falls between November and February. Ar-
rack, oil, pepper, cotton, and cardamons, are among its ex-
ports. East Long. 80° 20', and Noith Lat. 6° 4'. See
Percival's Accoicnt of Ceylon, and Valcntia's Travels, vol.
i. p. 266.

GALL, St, is the name of a town in Switzerland, and
the capital of a canton of the same name. It derives its
name froin the ancient abbey of St Gall, situated within
the walls of the town. The town is situated between two
mountains, upon the small brook of Steinach. The seat of
the cantonal government is in the chateau of the abbey.
The Catholic clergy inhabit the monastery, which contains
the library of the convent, now the library of the canton.
It contains very valuable manuscripts relative to the histo-
ry of the middle ages. The town library, which contains
that of Vadianus, is kept in the college, which was found-
ed in 1598. The collection of Vadianus contains many
precious manuscripts, among which is a chronicle compre-
hending 13 folio volumes of letters of the most celebrated
Sv'iss and German reformers. This library also possesses
a cabinet of petrifactions, collected in the neighbouring
country. There is a good collection of paintings and prints
in the house of M. de Gonzenbach, and a cabinet of natu-
ral history in that of Doctor Zollikofer.

St Gall has always been celebrated as a manufacturing
town. In the 13th century, great quantities of linen cloth
•were manufactured here, and at the epoch of the Council
of Constance, 1414 — 1418, such crowds of workmen from
that city settled in St Gall, that it became necessary to en-
large the town. The principal articles of manufacture, are
linen goods, muslin, and cotton cloth. The inhabitants of
Swabia, and of the mountains of Breghentz, were employ-
ed in spinning and embroidery by the manufacturers of St
Gall; and towards the end of the 18th century, the num-
ber of embroiderers amounted to 30,000 or 40,000. The
price of a piece of muslin richly embroidered in gold or
silver, sometimes amounted to 60 Louis. The muslins
embroidered in white are generally fabricated out of the
town in the cottages of the forest of Breghentz. About
the beginning of the present century, spinning machines,
like those used in this country, were erected in St Gall,
and in a few years a great number of these machines were

in full activity, in consequence of the exclusion of English
manufactures from the continent. All the enviroiis of St
Ciall are covered with bleachfields.

The most interesting promenades and prospects at .St
Gall, are near the convent of Nolkerseck ; at V'ogliseck,
about a league from the town; at the Chateau of Warteck,
from whirli there is a view of almost all the lake of Con-
stance ; and at the Chateau of Dottenwyl. The bridge of
St Martin is well worthy of attention. It is built ovci- a wild
gorge upon the Goldach. It is the work of Hungewerk,
and is constructed upon the same principle as the famous
bridges of Schauff hausen, Wettingen, and Reichenau. Po-
pulation of the town 9,000.

G.'M.L, Si-, Canlo7i of, one of the largest cantons of
Switzerland, extends from the lake of Constance to that of
Zurich, and almost to Kunkelsberg on the confines of the
Orisons. It contains forty square geographical miles, or
nearly 111 square leagues. Independently of the capital,
it has nine towns and 15 convents, of which 1 1 are female
ones. In the districts of Harqans, Utznach, U/i/icr Tock-
enbourg, and Rhinthal, which contain mountains Irom TOGO
to 8000 feet high, the people are principally employed in
rearing cattle. In the other districts, viz. that of St Gall,
Gossan, Lo-uer Tockenbourg, and Rosclmcli, there are many
fine hills and cultivated mountains, with rallies covered
with corn fields, vineyards and orchards. The canton of
St Gall contains a small portion of the lakes of Zurich and
Constance, the greater part of that of Wallenstadt, and some
snrdll lakes situated in the Alps. It has 10 rivers, viz. the
Rhine, the Tamin, the Saar, the Seez, the Linth, the Thour,
the Necker, the Glatt, the Sitter, and the Steinach. Po-
pulation in 1803, 130,301, of whom nearly one half are Ca-
tholics.

GALLEOXS. See AcAmco and Spain.

G.\LLICIA. See Galicia.

GALLIC Acid. See Chemistry.

GALLIPOLI, from y,«AA«;, beaut ful, and ;rsAo;, a city, a
town of Italy, in the kingdom of Naples, and province oi'
Otranto, is built upon a rock connected with the continent
by a long bridge. It is situated at the heel of the boot, at
the very extremity of the kingdom. The town, which is well
built, is hollowed out below into subterraneous vaults for
containing the oil, which forms the staple trade of this town.
The country near Gallipoli furnishes enough of corn, wine
and fruits, for the consumption of the inhabitants ; and mus-
lin and other articles are manufactured out of a species of
cotton which is raised. The duty of export upon the oil is
fully 40 per cent, as the king receives five carlins of oil out
of every last, which consists of 12 or 13 carlins. The oil,
when placed in the subterraneous vaults already mentioned,
is purified and bettered in its quality by fermentation, which
is occasioned during summer ; but this produces in these
vaults a heat which is almost unsupportable. In the year
1766, there was exported from Gallipoli to the other parts
of the kingdom, 1395 lasts of oil, and out of the kingdom
17,323 lasts; besides 43 cantari of spun cotton, and 247
cantari of cotton wrought in different ways. Briganti rec-
kons the average export of oil at 993,804 Neapolitan du-
cats. Population 8000. East Long. 15° 58', North Lat.
40° 29'.

G.\LLIPOLI, is the name of a seaport town of Turkey,
in the province of Romania. It is situated on the Sea of
Marmora, on a peninsula which has two harbours, one on
the south and the other on the north. The Bazar is a fine
edifice, with several domes covered with lead. The adja-
cent territory abounds in grain, wines, fruits, and particu-
larly in excellent melons. There is plenty of deer, hares,
partridges, and ducks. The cotton collected in the neigh-
bourhood is inferior lu that which comes from Smyrna and

GAL

543

S-.ilonicn. \VooI of difi'orctit kinds, niul excellent wax,
brouglu fiom llic diflerent couiilrics in llic J3Uick Sea, arc
sliipped in the liai-bour of (Jallipoli. I'o|)uhition about
10,000 TLirlis, 3500 Chrisliiins, and a sniiilicr niimbei- of
Jews. East Long-. 26" 37' 30", and North I.at. 40° 2.i' 35".

GALLON. SeeMi-AsuuEs.

GALLOWAY, the name of a district in Scotland, com-
lirehending; the shires of Kiukcudbuioiit and Wigton,
which see.

GALVANI, Lewis, a physician and physiologist, whose
name has obtained a very unusual degree of celebrity, in
consequence of his having discovered the rudiments of a
new branch of science, which was called after liim, Galvan-
ism. The history of this discovery will be detailed in the
following article ; at present we shall confine ourselves en-
tirely to the biographical events of his life. He was born
at Bologna in 1737, and was a member of a respectable fa-
mily in that city, several of whom had distinguished them-
selves in the exercise of the professions of law and divinity.
From his early youth he appears to have been of a serious
and devout turn of mind, and it is said that he was so much
attached to the discipline of the Romish church, as to have
resolved to enter into one of the monastic orders. He was,
however, dissuaded from this resolution, and he engaged in
the study of medicine, and the collateral branches of natu-
ral philosophy. In the course of his education, he became
a domestic pupil of Professor Galeazzi, and he so endeared
himself to the family by his amiable disposition, that he
formed a matrimonial connection with the professor's daugh-
ter. This lady seems, from all accounts, to have been dis-
linguistied both for her viitues and her talents ; Galvani
bore the tenderest regard for herj and when in the year
1790 she died, after a long series of ill health, it threw him
into a state of melancholy, from which he scarcely after-
wards recovered. It appears that the discovery, which
gave so much celebrity to his name, was, in some measure,
due to the sagacity of Madam Galvani, for the original
phenomena were noticed by her in the absence of the pro-
lessor, and were reported to him as something that deserv-
ed his particular attention.

In the year 1762, he took his medical degree at Bologna,
and wrote a thesis on the subject of the bones, shortly af-
ter which he was appointed a public lecturer, both in the
University and in the Institute of that city. He is said to
have been particularly happy in his manner of lecturing,
and to have acquired a high reputation as a diligent culti-
vator of the science of comparative anatomy. His reputa-
tion in these departments was, however, confined to his na-

tive country, {ind he was little known to the rest of Euro))C,
when in the year 1792 he published a \rovk which imme-
diately brought him into general notice. It was entitled,
yl Ccimmcntary on the Poivera of Klcctricilij in Muscular
Motion ; it contained an account of his discoveries on the
edccts of elcctricily in producing the contraction of the
muscular fibre, and the hypothesis which he adopted to ex-
plain its action. His opinion, that the electricity in these
cases was inherent in the animal body, and was excited
witliout the aid of any external cause, is now generally
thought to be incorrect, and indeed the discoveries that
have been since made have so extended the science, that
the original treatise can now be regarded as valuable,
merely because it presents the first sketch of those facts,
which have been since developed in so surprising a manner.
Galvani's philosophical pursuits do not appear to have
engrossed all his time, for he continued to exercise his du-
ties, both as a public lecturer and a medical practitioner,
with great assiduity; he also devoted a portion of his lei-
sure to the society and correspondence of literary men, in
which he appears to have taken much interest. His do-
mestic happiness, as we have related above, received a very
severe shock from the death of his wife, and he was after-
wards called upon to. exercise his fortitude in a different
way, when he manifested a degree of firmness, which must
be regarded as highly praiseworthy, even although we may
conceive it to have been can ied beyond the necessary li-
mits. In the new division of Italy, which took place after
the conquests of the French, the city of Bologna was includ-
ed in the Cisalpine Republic ; and all the public functiona-
ries were required to take the oath of allegiance to the
new government. This, however, he refused, as is sup-
posed, in consequence of the irreligious character of the
principal leaders in France at that time, and he was ac-
cordingly stripped of his offices and emoluments. In this
emergency, much dejected in his spirits, and probably re-
duced to a state of pecuniary embarrassment, he was re-
ceived into the house of a near relation, and fell into a state
of extreme weakness. Upon these circumstances being
made known to the government, they appear to have felt a
degree of regret, for their harsh behaviour towards a man,
who had so many claims to respect, both from his private
virtues and his public labours, and a decree was passed for
restoring him to his honours and emoluments. But his
frame was too much exhausted to derive any benefit froni
this favourable change in his prospects, and he died to-
wards the conclusion of the year 179 8, in the 61st year of
his age. Sec Eloge de Galvani, par Alibcrt. (a)

OALVANISJ^l.

Galvanism is a branch of natural philosophy, which has
originated within the last twe«ty-five years, and derives its
name from Galvani, professor of anatomy at Bologna. He
had the good fortune to make some observations on the
electricity of the muscles of fi-ogs, that appeared to him to
depend upon a new power in the animal body ; and although
it is now generally admitted, that he drew an erroneous
inference from his observations, yet they led to a train of
experiments, which have associated his name with some of
the most brilliant discoveries of modern science. To the
supposed new power he gave the mme of animal electricity,
conceiving it to depend upon something inherent in the
animal body itself; but we now regard these effects as pro-

duced by minute quantities of the electric fluid set at li-
berty by a certain agency of substances upon each other.

Galvanism may be defined, a series of electrical pheno-
mena, in which the electricity is developed without the aid
of friction, and where we perceive a chemical action to
take place between some of the bodies employed.

In treating upon this subject, we shall arrange our ma-
terials into two divisions. We shall begin by an historical
detail of the discoveries that have been successively made,
from the time of Galvani's first observation to the present
period ; and, in the second place, we shall give an account
of the theories and hypotheses that have been formed to
explain the phenomena of galvanism.

544

GALVANISM.

Paiit T. history.

Sect. I. Exfieriments before the Discovery of the Pile.

The oris^inal discovery, to which we Iiave already al-
luded, tooli place from a bin.^ular accident. The wife of
the philosopher, being in a declining state of health, em-
ployed as a restorative, according to the custom of the
country, a soup made of frogs. A number of these animals,
ready skinned for the purpose of cookery, chanced to lie in
Galvani's laboratory, on a table near the electrical ma-
chine. While the machine was in action, an attendant hap-
pened to touch, witli the point of a scalpel, the crural nerve
of one of the frogs, that was not far from the prime con-
ductor, when it was observed that the muscles of the limb
were instantly thrown into strong convulsions. This ex-
periment was performed in the absence of the Professor,
but it was noticed by his lady, who was much struck with
the appearance, and communicated it to her husband. He
repeated the experiment, varied it in different ways, and
perceived that the convulsions only took place when a spark
was drawn from the prime conductor, while the nerve was,
at the same time, touched with a substance which was
a conductor of electricity. At the lime that this acci-
dental discovery was made, Galvani was engaged in a set
of experiments, the object of which was to prove, that mus-
cular motion depends upon electricity ; and it appeared, in
a very remarkable manner, to confirm his hypothesis ; so
that he was induced to prosecute the inquiry with redoubled
diligence. See Eloge de Galvani, par Alibert.

When a frog was so placed as to form part of the elec-
tric circuit, it was found that an extremely minute quanti-
ty of electricity produced contractions in the muscles. If
the hind legs were dissected from the body, the connection
being kept up by the crural nerves only, and the electric
fluid was passed through it in this state, a still more minute
quantity was rendered visible ; so that a frog, prepared in
this manner, was capable of exhibiting very decisive marks
of electricity, where none could be detected by Berinet's
gold-leaf electrometer.

After employing the electric fluid, as disengaged from
the common machine, he next tried the atmospherical
electricity ; and it was in pursuance of this object, that he
■was first led to observe the effects of galvanism, properly
so called. Having suspended a number of frogs by metal-
lic hooks to an iron railing, he found that the limbs were
frequently thrown into convulsions, when it did not appear
that there was any electricity in the atmosphere. Having
duly considered this phenomenon, he discovered that it
did not originate from an extraneous electricity, but that it
depended upon the position of the animal, with respect to
certain metallic bodies.

It appeared, that when the muscle and nerve of a frog
were each in contact with metallic bodies, and these were al-
so connected by a metal, the contractions were always pro-
duced. The effect was considerably increased by arming
the nerve with a metallic coating, by which means a larger
portion of it was brought into contact with the metal. But
the most important of Galvani's discoveries was the effect
produced by the combination of two metals. Of these com-
binations the most powerful was that of zinc and silver,
and the most violent convulsions ensued when the nerve
was coated with one of these metals, the muscle placed in
contact with the other, and the two metals connected by a
conductor of electricity. (Plate CCLXIII. Fig. 19.)

Galvani's general conclusion from his experiments was,
that the animal body possesses an inherent electricity of a
specific kind, which is connected with the nervous system,

and conveyed by means of the metals into the muscles, so
as to throw them into convulsions. He deduced a theory
of muscular motion from his discoveries, according to
which the body contains an apparatus analogous to the Ley-
den phial, the muscles and nerves being in diffeient states
of electricity, and the metals forming a connection between
them, by which the electricity is equalized. In this appli-
cation of the new phenomena, Galvani went beyond the li-
mits of correct deduction ; yet he deserves much com-
mendation for the perseverance and ingenuity which he ex-
hibited in prosecuting the inquiry. Although the discovery
originated, in a considerable degree, from accident, still it
must be remembered, that it is only men of ability who
take advantage of such accidents. In the year 1792, he pub-
lished an account of his discoveries and theories, under the
title of ^■^ Commentary on the Powers of Electricity in Mus-
cular Motion.

Galvani had no sooner published an account of his dis-
covery, than the philosophers, in different parts of Europe,
entered with eagerness upon the examination of the new
phenomena. The earliest writers on the subject were Valli,
Fowler, and Volta. The principal object of Valli's letters,
which appeared in the Journal de Physique, was to exa-
mine how far the opinion of Galvani was correct, respect-
ing the dependence of the new influence upon the nervous
fluid, and its identity with electricity. Although much of
his reasoning must now be regarded as erroneous,^! still
he displays considerable ingenuity and address in iro con-
trivance of his experiments, and in the inferences which
he deduced from them.

In the following year, Dr Fowler published an Essay ou
Animal Electricity, in which he displays an acute and saga-
cious mind, and may be considered, by his observations, to
have paved the way for many of the discoveries of his suc-
cessors. At the time when he wrote, the question was
warmly agitated, whether the phenomena of galvanism
could be referred to the electric fluid, or whether they do
not depend upon some specific agent peculiar to the ani-
mal body. He commences by the inquiry, " Are the phe-
nomena exhibited by the application of certain different
metals to animals referable to electricity ?" Although he
conducts his train of reasoning with much ability, yet he
drew the conclusion which we are now enabled to say is
not correct. After examining minutely the circumstances
which are necessary for the production of the galvanic in-
fluence, he finds that it is requisite that there should be
two different metals, which are to communicate with each
other and with the animal. He conceives it necessary that
they should be in contact, one with the nerves, and the
other with the muscles, and points out an error, into which
Valli had fallen in his experiments, where he thought
that the contact of the nerve only is suflicient to cause the
contractions : he shews that, in this case, the moisture on
the surface of the nerve acted as a conductor of the influ-
ence of one of the metals to the fibres of the muscle.

Dr Fowler concludes that the galvanic influence is not
referable to electricity, because for the production of the
former the presence of two different metals appears to be
necessary, while electricity, as proceeding from the elec-
trical machine, is excited by the action of an electric upon
a conductor ; an inference which was correct, according to
the state of the science at the time when he wrote. He al-
so endeavours to show that electricity and galvanism are
not, in all cases, condscted by the same substances, and
particularly adduces charcoal, which, although a conduc-
tor of electricity, is impervious to the galvanic influence.

GALVANIS31.

545

He afterwards made some curious observations upon the
effect of galvanism on animals not furnished with distinct
limbs, such as worms of various kinds. These animals
could not be made to contract, yet by the nature of their
motions, they seemed to be sensible to the impression of
the two metals, when they were placed, partly on one, and
partly on the other.

Dr Fowler afterwards enters upon an interesting inquiry
respecting the effect of galvanism on the different parts of
the body. " What are the relations which subsist between
the influence discovered by Galvani, and the muscles, the
nervous, and the vascular systems of animals ?" He found
that the contractions were very readily excited in all the
muscles which are subservient to the will, but that they
were with great difficulty produced in the heart, and that
they could not be rendered perceptible in the stomach and
intestines. He observed, that when a part is in a slate of
inflammation it acquires an additional sensibility to the gal-
vanic stimulus, and he made the curious discovery of the
flash of light, which is produced by placing the two metals
in contact with the ball of the eye, and then causing them
to communicate with each other. Sultzer, a German me-
taphysical writer, had mentioned several years before, the
effect produced on the organ of taste, by applying two me-
tals, one above and the other below the tongue, and then
bringing them into contact ; but the sensation was ascribed
to a peculiar vibration excited by the metals, and conveyed
to the tongue. The experiments with the two metals, upon
the eye and the tongue, were varied in different ways by
Professor Robinson, an account of which is published at the
end of Dr Fowler's Essay. Professor Robinson mentions
the sensation of taste which is excited, when the tongue is
applied to the edges of a number of plates of zinc and sil-
ver, placed alternately upon each other; a construction
which may be regarded as an approximation to the appara-
tus afterwards discovered by Volta.

In the same year in which Fowler's Essay was publish-
ed, a very important communication appeared in the Phi-
losophical Transactions of London, from the pen of Volta,
in the form of letters to Cavallo. He gives a luminous ac-
count of Galvani's discovery, and adds many curious ex-
periments and valuable remarks of his own. He attempt-
ed, and with complete success, to overthrow Galvani's
opinion, that the animal body bears an analogy to the Ley-
den phial, the nerve and the muscle being in opposite states
of electricity. He found that for the production of the ef-
fect it was essential to have two different metals, and hence
he arrived at the important conclusion, which may be re-
garded as leading to all his future discoveries, that the
muscular contractions are produced by small portions of
electricity, that are liberated by the action of the metals
upon each other. Another point which Volta established
was, that the nerve is the organ on which the galvanic in-
fluence immediately acts ; but he found that if a part of a
muscle be laid upon two different metals, and these be
made to communicate, a contraction is produced. This
probably depends upon the nervous matter that is dispers-
ed through the muscles, and also upon the moisture that is al-
ways present, and which serves to conduct the electricity to
all parts of the body. Volta performed|many experiments in
order to discover what circumstances are favourable to the
excitation of the contractions, and upon the parts of the
body which are the most easily called into action. His ob-
servations agree, in many respects, with Fowler's, although
it is certain that their experiments must have been made
without concert or communication. He found that snails
and worms could not be made to contract, but that many of
the insects, as butterflies and beetles, were subject to the
influence of the metals. It appeared from his numerous

Vol. IX. Part II.

trials, that those animals alone were sensible to galvanism,
who are furnished with distinct limbs, having flexor and ex-
tensor muscles. In tlie animals of this description, it ap-
peared that it was the voluntary muscles alone which are
capable of being made to contract. Although the heart is
a muscle which is easily thrown into powerful action by
chemical or mechanical stimuli, yet he could never pro-
duce any effect upon it by the action of the two metals.
Volta made some of the same observations upon the effect
of the two metals on the oigans of sense, as have been
mentioned in our abstract of Fowler's Essay.

Dr Wells wrote an interesting paper on galvanism,
which was also published in the Pliilosophical Transactions
of London. He proposed three distinct objects of inquiry,
which, at the time when he wrote, embraced the points that
were the most general subjects of discussion. He first in-
quires, whether the influence discovered by Galvani de-
pends upon any property inherent in the animal body, or
peculiar to it. In the second place, he inquires into the
conditions that are necessary for its excitement: And lastly,
he examines how far it ought to be considered as identical
with electricity. Dr Wells coincides in opinion with Volta,
that the contractions of the muscles depend upon electricity
liberated by some cause, independent of the animal body,
and that the moisture, which is present in all parts, is the
immediate cause of the facility with which the effect is
produced. He discovered the important fact, that charcoal
may be employed, together with one of the metals, for ex-
citing the influence ; and also that the influence, when ex-
cited, may be conducted by charcoal. He argues at length
against the hypothesis of Volta, respecting the production
of the electricity by the contact of the two metals, and
urges as a decisive objection to it, that the moisture which
is attached to the animal, ought to serve as a conductor,
and equalize their electrical condition, without their being
absolutely brought into contact.

Dr Wells made some curious experiments upon the ef-
fects that were produced on the power of the metals and on
charcoal by friction ; after this operation he found that one
of the substances alone was sufficient to produce the con-
tractions. As it appeared that the friction did not imme-
diately communicate electricity to the body that was rub-
bed, it must be supposed, that some change was brought
about in its nature, by which its different parts were en-
abled to act upon each other, in the same manner with two
distinct substances. He is decidedly of opinion, that gal-
VE\pism is identical with electricity, because every substance
which is a conductor of one of these principles, is also a
conductor of the other.

A very ample and elaborate memoir, on the subject of
animal electricity, was drawn up by a committee of the
French Institute, which, besides examining all the opinions
and controversies that existed on the subject, contained an
account of a great variety of original experiments. The com-
mittee was composed of some of the most celebrated che-
mists and natural philosophers of France; Guyton, Fourcroy,
Vauquelin, Halle, Coulomb, Sabbatier, Pelleton, and
Charles. They arrange the materials of their report under
six heads; 1. They examine the different circumstances
which influence the nature of what they call the animal
arc, by which they mean, that part of the galvanic circle
which consists of the parts of the animal. They conceive
that the animal arc may consist of nerve only, but in this
opinion it is probable that they were mistaken. They
found that cutting a nerve across did not prevent the pas-
sage of the influence, provided the cut ends were laid close
together, and also that it was transmitted through different
parts of the same animal, or even through parts of different
animals, provided they were in perfect contact, They ob-

546

GALVANISM.

serve, tliat when a nerve is made pnvt of the circle, those
muscles arc thrown into contractions lo whicli the extremi-
ties of the nerve arc dlstrihutetl, not those which arc con-
tiguous to the trunk of the nerve. In the 2d place, they
examine the nature and disposition of what is called the ex-
citatory arc, or the metallic part of the circle. 3d, Tliey
intiuire into the circumstances whicli enter into tlic action
of the galvanic circle, and in any way influence its cfVccl.
The 4Ui head consists of the means which may he employ-
ed for varying, diminishin;^, or restoring the scnsibilily of
the animal to the galvanic influence. In this part, they
mention the effects of immersing the animal in a fluid, or
in an unrespirablc gas, so as to produce suffocation, when
the susceptibility to the galvanic influence was cither de-
stroyed or much impaired ; but the effects were very vari-
ous, and dilTicult to account lor in many cases. Tiie 5th
head consists of a comparison between electricity and gal-
vanism ; and the 6th contains a detail of some experiments
which were performed by Humboldt, and subjected to the
inspection of the committee. Many of Humboldt's experi-
ments were curious and interesting ; but they appear not
to have been, in all cases, very accurate ; for he concludes
from them, that some substances, which were good conduc-
tors of electricity, would not conduct galvanism. See .-^jj-
liales dc Cliimie, xx. 51.

An ingenious paper was about this time published by
Fabroni, in which he discusses the question, whether the
galvanic phenomena are immediately referrible to electri-
city, or whether they ought not rather to be attributed to
chemical aflinity '. He relates many observations that he
made upon the chemical action of difi'erent metals on each
other, when placed in contact, and shows, that they were
then disposed to oxidate under the same circumstances, ex-
cept that of being in contact, where, if separate, no effect
would have been produced. He argues, that the facts stated
by Galvani, Volta, and others, which were conceived by
them to prove the electrical nature of the phenomena in '
question, only went so far as to shew, that electricity
was concerned in the operation, but did not prove it to be
the cause of them ; and he is inclined to regard it rather
as the eflcct.

Fabroni mentions among otlier facts, that mercury and
tin when pure, and kept distinct from other metals, will re-
main a long time without tarnishing, but when alloyed, or
kept in contact with other metals, they soon begin to. exhibit
signs of oxidation. He remarked, that coins composed of
a pure metal were more durable tlian such as were com-
posed of a mixture of metals. He mentions the corrosion
\\ hich takes place, when copper roofs are soldered with
another metal, and in the copper sheathing of ships when
fastened with iron nails. These phenomena are supposed
to depend upon a chemical alTiniiy between the metals, by
which their particles are individually attracted towards each
other, while the separation of the particles of the solid
metal, which is caused by their tendency to unite, permits
the oxygen' to act upon tliem. " Tliese facts," he says," as
well as many others of the same nature, no less common
than well kriowii, ought to have proved to philosophers,
that the metals, by exercising their mutual attractive force,
must by the same energy diminish their respective powers
of aggregation ; that though neither of them separately
may be able to attract oxygen from the atmospliere, or from
water, they may acquire that power by simple mechanical
touch as they pass to new combinations."

He tlieii relates some experiments which he performed,
in order to observe the comparative efl'ect produced by
placing metals iirst in separate vessels of water, then in the
same vessels, but not in contact; and lastly, ir. llie same
vessels, and also in contact. In the two former cases there

was no change produced, while in the latter there was a
considerable degree of oxidation. He afterwards entered
upon some speculations on the source of the oxygen, and
he found that, by covering the water with a stratum of oil,
and thus excluding the atmosphere, the process of oxida-
tion was retarded. This fact he adduces as a powerful Ar-
gument in favour of the chemical hypothesis. He concludes,
that the oxygen in these cases cannot be derived from the
water, because where the water decomposed there would
be a liberation of hydrogen. The effect that is produced
on the senses of vision and of taste, lie attributes to the
formation of new chemical compounds, which act in a pe-
culiar manner upon the organs ; an opinion which may be
true, to a certain extent, so far as respects the tongue, but
it is not easy to conceive how it could cause the flash of
light which is excited in the eye by the contact of the me-
tals. Sea Journal dc FliijsiqiLe, xlix. 348.

Fabrcni's paper did not appear to excite much attention
at the time when it was pulilished, as it directly opposed
the current of popular opinion. But many of the statements
have been since verified by succeeding philosophers ; and
when wc consider that it was written before the discovery of
tlie pile, it must be regarded as displaying much sagacity
and nite observation.

In this state the science of galvanism remained until the
year 1800. It was genelally admitted, that the immediate
agent in producing the phenomena was the electric fluid,
and that the actions exhibited by the animal body depended
merely upon its extreme sensibility to small quantities of
this fluid. The experiments principally consisted in dif-
ferent combinations of conducting substances with parts of
the animal body, composing what was called the galvariic
arc or circle. The chemical effects had been little attended
to, except by Fabroni; and his remarks, although truly in-
genious, must be regarded rather as the first glance of a
series of important facts, than as constituting their complete
developement.

Sect. II. Exfierimente., from the DUcovery of the Pile to
the Decomposition of the AlkaiieH.

The second period of the history of galvanism commen-
ces with the important discovery made by Volta, of the
instrument which has been called ihe galvanic or voltaic
pile. Volta, as we have seen above, adopted the idea,
that the action excited by the two metals, depended upon
an alteration in their respective states of eleclricty, orin a
destruction of its equilibrium. The effect produced by one
pair of plates could only be comparatively small; but he
supposed that by interposing a conductor between several
pairs of plates, it might be multiplied and concentrated in
an indefinite degree. He accordingly provided a number
of silver coins, and pieces of zinc of similar dimensions ;
these were disposed in pairs, and between each pair was
placed a piece of card soaked in water; and tlius a pile or
column was formed, in which the three substances, silver,
zinc, and water, existed in regular rotation. (I'lateCCLXHI.
Fig. 1.) The efl'ect of the combination fully justified the
expectations of the discoverer. All the phenomena that
had been excited by a single pair of metals were far ex-
ceeded by those of the pile, while by touching the two ends
of it at the same lime, it was found that a distinct shock was
felt in the arms. This fully establislied tlie opinion that
liad been formed, and was generally adopted, of the identi-
ty of electricity and galvanism ; although there were still
some circumstances connected with the latter, which ap-
peared not to be completely analogous to the usual opera-
tions of the electric fluid.

He found, that 40 pairs of the metallic discs, with the

GALVANISM.

547'

pi-opcr number of pieces of moistened card interposed,
were sufficient to produce a shock, which was very dis-
tinctly full in the hands and arms, and that by increasincj the
uunilicr of pairs, the power of the pile was proportionally
aui^nicnled. In order to produce the full effect, it was
found necessary that two pieces of metal, either composing
the extremities of the insuiinient, or in contact with iheni,
should be firmly grasped, by the two hands ; and the shock
might, in this case, be repeated for any number of times,
as long as the pasteboard between the two metals remained
sufficiently moist. Volta conceived, that the newly invent-
ed apparatus was analogous in its action to the electrical
organ of the torpedo. The experiments that he perform-
ed with it were almost exclusively confined to the animal
body^ and he appears to have entertained no idea of the
important use which would afterwards be made of the pile,
as an instrument of cliemical analysis. Itis indeed a little
remarkable, that after making so curious a discovery, he
should have rested there, and not have proceeded with the
farther prosecution of the subject. It would be unjust not
to acknowledge, in the warmest terms, the obligation un-
der which the scientific world was laid by the discovery of
Volta; but, at the same time, it must be admitted, on the
other hand, that the benefit of the discovery has been obtain-
ed by others. An account of the pile was written by Volta,
in the form of two letters to Sir Joseph Banks, which were
published in the Philosopiiical Transactions of London for
the year 1800.

No sooner was the discovery of the galvanic pile an-
nounced, than the English experimentalists began their
operations with it, and almost at the first trial of its cflects
made some important and interesting observations. Sir
Joseph Banks, on the receipt of the letters, having com-
municated the information to his scientific friends, a pile
was formed by Messrs Nicholson and Carlisle, with which
they began to repeat the experiments of Volta. They ar-
ranged-the substances in the order of silver, zinc, fluid;
silver, zinc, fluid,' &c.: an arrangement which it is neces-
sary to attend to, in speaking of what have been called the
silver and zinc ends of the apparatus. Volta, it appears,
had satisfied himself that the action of the pile was electri-
cal, because it produced the shock ; but Messrs Nicholson
and Carlisle applied to it the instrument called the re-
volving doubler, (See Electricity), and by this means
decidedly proved it to be the case : They found, that
the silver end was in the minusj and the zinc end in the
plus state of electricity.

In the course of the experiments, a part of the circuit
between the upper and lower ends of the pile was formed
by water ; and it was observed, that there was a disengage-
ment of gas, at the part where the wire came in contact
with the fluid. This gas was thought to have the odour
of hydrogen; and it led them to notice, with more atten-
tion, the effect produced by causing the electricity to pass
through a lube of water, into the two ends of which wires
were inserted, which communicated with the extremities
of the pile. We shall relate this very important experi-
ment in Mr Nicholson's own v/ords. " On the 2d of May
we inserted a brass-wire through each of two cocks, insert-
ed in a glass tube of half an inch internal diameter. Tlie
tube was filled with new river \vtiter, and the distance be-
tween the points of ^le wires in the water was one inch
and three quarters. This compound discharger was appli-
ed, so that the external ends of its wire were in contact
with the two extreme piates of a pile of 35 half-crowns,
with the correspondent pieces of zinc and pasteboard. A
fine stream of min\ite bubbles immediately began to flow
from the point of the lower wire in the tube, wiiich com-
municated with the silver, and tlie opposite point of the up-

per wire became tariiishcd, first deep orange, and then
black. On reversing the tube, the gas came from the other
point, which was now lowest, while the upper, in its turn,
became tarnished and black." — "The pi'oduct of gas, rim-
ing two hours and a half, was two-thirtieths of a cubic
inch. It was then mixed with an equal quantiiy of com-
mon air, and exploded by the application of a lighted wax-
ed thread."

They observed, that the same process of the decomposi-
tion of water is carried on in the body of the i)ilc, as be-
tween the two ends of the v/irc in tl;c interrupted circuit ;
the side of the zinc next to the fluid being covei-ed with ox-
ide in two or three days, and tlic apparatus then ceasing to
act. Mr Nicholson found, that, by using metallic plates of
considerably more extensive surface, no greater ettcct was
produced in the decomposition of water, or in the violence
of the shock ; so that he concludes, " the repetition of the
series is of more consequence to this action than the en-
largement of the surface." It was now clearly ascertained,
that the electricity of the silver or minus end was nega-
tive, that of the zinc orpins end positive. Although it ap-
peared evident that there had been a decomposition of water
eff"ected by the copper wire, yet Mr Nicholson determined
to render the operation more decisive, by employing a me-
tal which was not oxidable. Plalina was therefore substi-
tuted for the copper, and now gas was disengaged from
both sides, and neither of the wires were tarnished. In a
subsequent experiment, the Viires were so managed, that
the gases extricated from each side were kept distinct, and
it was found that they consisted, the one of oxygen, and the
other of hydrogen, and that in the proportion necessary to
produce water. (Plate CCLXIII. Fig. 6 ) In some of
these experiments the spark was visible (Nicholson's Jour-
nal., 4to, iv. 179.) Our readers will at once perceive the
important views that were disclosed by the experiments re-
lated in this paper, in connexion with those performed by
Mr Cruickshanks of Woolwich, of which we shall next give
an account. They must be regarded as leading directly to
the wonderful discoveries that have been made by means
of the galvanic apparatus, as well as the theoretical deduc-
tions to which it has given rise, and which have produced
almost a complete revolution in our ideas of the action of
bodies upon each other.

Mr Cruickshanks confirmed the observations of Messrs
Nicholson and Carlise, respecting the actual appearance of
sparks and the decomposition of water. This hist process
he varied in different ways. By employing the interrupt-
ed circuit with silver wires, and passing the influence'
through water tinged with litmus, he found, that the wire
connected with the zinc end of the pile communicated a red
tinge to the fluid contiguous to it ; and afterwards, by em-
ploying water tinged with Brazil wood, he found that the
wire connected with the silver end of the- pile produced a
deeper shade of colour in the surrounding fluid. Hence it
appeared, that an acid was formed in the former, and an
alkali in the latter case. The galvanic influence was pass-
ed through the interrupted circuit, in which the tube was
filled with the solution of acetate of lead, when it was ob-
served that the lead wasseparated in the metallic state, and
deposited at the end of the sz/t'fr 7t'/?-«, or the wire connect-
ed with the silver end of the pile, in the form of fine needles.
Experiments were afterwards made upon the solutions of
sulphate of copper and nitrate of silver: in this last case, he
observes, " the metal shot into fine needles, like crystals
articulated or jointed to each other, as in the jlrbor Diane."
He also succeeded in decomposing some of the neutral
salts. See Nicholson's Journal, 4to, iv. 187.

In a second memoir, Mr Cruickshanks paid more par-
ticular attention to the nature of the gases emitted in the
3 Z 2

548

GALVANISM.

interrupted circuit— to the efftcls of different kinds of wires
—and to the influence of the fluid medium upon the de-
composition of the water. Some of his most important
conclusions are, that from the wire connected with the sil-
ver or copper end of tlie pile, whatever be its composition,
if it terminate in water, the gas emitted is chiefly liydroi^en ;
if it terminate in a metallic solution, the metal is reduced,
and is deposited at the end of the wire. Wlien the wire
connected with the zinc end is formed of a perfect metal,
nearly pure oxygen is disengaged ; wiien of an oxidable
metal, it is partly oxidated and partly dissolved, and only a
small quantity of oxygen is liberated. When fluids contain
no oxygen, they appear to be incapable of transmitting the
galvanic influence ; while, on the contrary, it would seem
that it may be transinitti;d by every one which contains this
element, (Nicholson's yourna/, 4to, i v. 268.) These views
of Mr Cruickshanks respecting the action of the pile were
confirmed by some experiments that were performed,
about the same time, by Colo. el Haldane. He found that
the apparatus ceased to act when it was immersed in water,
or if it was placed in the vacuum of an air-pump. He
found, on the contrary, that it acted more powerfully in
OX) gen gas, than when confined in an equal bulk of at-
mosplieric air, while azoic had the same eflect as a vacu-
um. '1 hese circumstances led him to conceive that its ac-
tiv-n depended essentially upou the cembination of oxygen,
which it derives fiom the atmosphere. See Nicholson's
Journal- 4to. iv. 242, 313.

In the ;jarly part of his experiments, Mr Cruickshanks
invented a new manner of disposing the apparatus, which
has proved scarcely less important to the interests of sci-
ence than its original discovery by Volta. We allude to
the method of placing the metals horizontally in a frame or
trough, (Plate CCLXIII. Fig. 4.) with proper intervals for
containing the fluid which is intended to act upon them.

The power of the pile in decomposing chemical sub-
stances being now established, by the experiments of Ni-
cholson and Cruickshanks, a new field of investigation was
opened, which was ardently entered upon, by some of the
most distinguished among the English chemists. Dr Hen-
ry decomposed the sulphuric and nitric acids, and ammo-
nia, and he reduced the oxymuriatic to the state of muriatic
acid; but as gases do not conduct the galvanic influence,
its decomposing power could not be applied to this last
body. See Nicholson's /oarwa/ 4to. iv. 223. 245.

Sir H. Davy commenced his discoveries in galvanism at
an early period of the investigation. He proposed, as a
subject of experimental research, whether the ends of the
wire, in the interrupted circuit, would discharge the two
gases, if they were made to terminate in different portions
of water. The ends of the wires were therefore placed in
separate glasses, while the g'lasses were made to communi-
cate by means of the fingers, or a moist substance, and it
Avas found that the oxygen and hydrogen were evolved as
usual. He next inquired whether it was necessary for the
effect that the wires should be in contact with the ends of
the pile ; and in order to prove this point, slips of muscular
fibre vi^ere interposed between the wires and the ends of
the pile. The result of this disposition was, that the gases
were disengaged, but in a reverse order ; the hydrogen
now proceeding from the wire connected with the zinc end
of the pile, and the oxygen from the silver or copper wire.

These experiments, which at the time when they were
performed seemed most extraordinary, and almost inex-
plicable, were succeeded by others equally curious, in which
Sir H. Davy produced the galvanic effect, by a new combi-
nation of substances. He found that charcoal was capable
of conducting the influenee and of decomposing water, the
copper end giving out hydrogen, holding a little carbon in

solution ; the zinc end did not produce any considerable
quantity of gas, the carbonic acid which was produced be-
ing absorbed by the water in which the charcoal was im-
mersed. He formed a pile of zinc and charcoal, which act-
ed with considerable energy, and he afterwards discovered
that a pile may be constructed of only one metal, with dif-
ferent fluids applied to its two surfaces, one of them capable
of oxidating the metal, the other of preventing the effect of
oxidation, the two fluids being separated from each other by
water. The series which he employed was metal, diluted
nitric acid, water, sulphuret of potash, and then again metal.
In a subsecpient train of experiments, he proceeded still
farther, and composed a pile without any metal, but con-
sisting solely of pieces of charcoal, having their different
surfaces exposed to the action of different fluids. '• «

Sir H. Davy also made some very important observations
on the nature of the fluid interposed between the plates of
the pile. If the water that is employed be perfectly pure,
containing no acid, salt, or gas, the apparatus is incapable of
acting. He found that its energy was in proportion to the
rapidity with which the oxidation of the metal advances,
and consequently was most energetic when nitric acid was
made use of In pursuance of this opinion, he discovered,
that the pile can act in vacuo, if an acid be interposed be-
tween the plates. See Nicholson's Journal, 4to. iv. 275.
326. 337. 344. ; and v. 78. 341.

About this period, Dr Wollaston began to investigate the
subject of galvanism, and read a paper to the Royal Society
of London, which displays great marks of sagacity and
penetration. He observes that the energy of the apparatus
seems to be in proportion to the tendency which one of the
metals has to be acted upon by the interposed fluid. An
experiment is related, not very unlike some of those which
had been previously performed by Fabroni. If a plate of
zinc and a plate of silver be immersed in diluted sulphuric
acid, and kept asunder, the silver is not affected, but the
zinc begins to decompose the water, and to evolve hydro-
gen. If the plates be now placed in contact, the silver dis-
charges hydrogen, and the zinc continues as before to be
dissolved. From these, and other analogous facts, he con-
cludes, that whenever a metal is dissolved by an acid, elec-
tricity is disengaged. He extends this principle to the action
of the electrical machine, which he conceives has its power
increased by applying an amalgam to the cushion, into the
composition of which a metal enters which is readily oxidated.
As a farther illustration of the same principle, he found, that
the machine will not act when immersed in carbonic acid gas.

Mr Nicholson had suggested the opinion, that the elec-
tricity of the pile differs from that of the machine, in con-
sequence of the latter being in a state of higher intensity^
but in less quantity ; the former of course being in greater
quantity, but of low intensity. Dr Wollaston coincided in
this idea, and supposed that it might explain the difference
between the operation of the two instruments. It had
been long known that water might be decomposed by the
electric shock, but the effect differs from that of the pile,
the two gases being separated promiscuously from both
ends of the wire, not as when the pile is employed, the oxy-
gen from one end, and the hydrogen from the other. But
Dr Wollaston succeeded in producing the galvanic effect
on water by common electricity, so as to keep the gases
separate. This he accomplished by coating two silver
wires, so that the ends of them only were exposed. He
then connected these wires with the two conductors of the
electrical machine, and passed the spark, from one to the
other, through a solution of a salt of copper ; the negative
wire was found to be covered with a metallic coating, as if
it had been connected with the copper or silver end of the
pile. See Phil. Tram. 1801, p. 427.

GALVANISM.

549

Professor Trommsdorff, about this time, discovered that
the pile possesses a very powerful effect in 'ournint!: metal-
lic leaves. He formed an instiunieiit of large plates of zinc
and copper, and fixed gold leaf to the zinc end ; then, by
bringing it in contact with the silver end, the leaf was ra-
pidly consumed, the process being attended by a beautiful
emission of coloured light. Silver, tin, and copper leaves
■were burned in the same manner, each giving out a brilliant
flame tinged by its appropriate colour. (Nicholson's ./oiir-
nal, vol. V. p. 238.) The repetition of these experiments
on the combubtion of metals, led Fourcroy to a curious
discovery, that the energy of the shock is not increased by
the size of the plates, but by the number of the repetitions ;
while the same extent of surface, arranged in the form of a
few large plates, readily consumed the metallic leaves, but
had only a comparatively small effect on the sensations.
(Jnji. de Chim. xxxix. 103.) As the action of the pile was
generally admitted to depend upon electricity, various at-
tempts were made, by different experimentalists, to change
the Leyden phial, and Mr Cruickshanks at length accom-
plislied it. It was now also generally agreed, that the ex-
tremity of the pile which gave out oxygen, was in the state
of positive electricity, and the end which disengaged hydro-
gen in the negative state.

It became a curious subject of investigation to ascertain
what was the precise difference between the electric fluid,
as generated by the pile, and as disengaged by the common
machine; and Dr Van Marum entered upon a series of ex-
periments, in which the action of the pile was compared
■with that of the great Teylerian machine at Haarlem. He
succeeded in charging, not only single jars, but whole bat-
teries, by the pile ; and they were always charged to the
same degree of intensity with that which the pile itself in-
dicated to an electrometer placed upon it. He found that
the zinc end of the pile communicated positive electricity
to the side of the jar or battery with which it was in con-
tact, and the copper end the reverse. No perceptible dif-
ference could be experienced between shocks of the same
intensity given by a jar or by the battery; whether they
■were charged by the pile or by the machine. He found
that the intensity of the pile was always the same from the
same number of plates, whatever was their size ; but he
perceived Fourcroy's observation to be correct, that it was
necessary to employ large plates to burn the metals. He
formed a pile of large plates of zinc and copper, and suc-
ceeded in fusing iron wires of considerable thickness ; heat
last even fused a wire of platina. He found that a battery,
consisting of I37i square feet of coated glass, was charged
by a galvanic apparatus to an intensity equal to itself, in
l-20th of a second ; a circumstance which proves the ama-
zing velocity of the fluid. He conceived that the energy of
the pile was much augmented when it was kept in an insu-
lated state, and likewise when a solution of tne muriate of
ammonia was interposed between the copper and zinc
plates. See Jnn. de Chim. xl. 289.

We have already noticed the discovery of Mr Cruick-
shanks, that the pile acted more powerfully in oxygen gas
than in the air of the atmosphere; and an observation, the
converse of this, was made by Biot and Cuvier, which con-
firmed the relation between the action of the apparatus and
the chemical state of the fluid in which it is immersed.
When the pile was inclosed in a limited quantity of air,
they found that, after some time, the air was sensibly de-
oxidated. See Ann. de Chim. xxxix. 242^

The discoveries that were made with the galvanic pile,
especially by the English chemists, completely established
some of the most important points which had previously
been subjects of doubt or controversy. Animal electricity,
as produced in the original experiments of Galyani, and af-

terwards in tliose of Valli, Fowler, Volta, and others, wa.?
now admitted to depend upon nothing inherent in, or at-
tached to, the animal body, but upon an agent, called into
action by external causes, and manifesting itself in conse-
quence of the delicate sensibility of the nervous and muscu-
lar systems. This agent was now generally recognized as
being identical with electricity, conducted by the same sub-
stances, possessing the same properties, and, in short, sub-
ject to the same physical laws. It was conjectured, that
the apparent difference between electricity, as excited by
the machine and by the pile, depended upon the different
states of intensity in which they exist, the electricity of the
machine being in a much higher state than that of the pile,
although this latter is generally disengaged in greater quan-
tity. This may be regarded as the state of the science in
1801 ; from this time, until the grand discovery of Sir H.
Davy, which we have marked out as the third era, the at-
tention of the different experimentalists, who devoted them-
selves to this department of natural philosophy, was partly
directed to improving or modifying the apparatus, and
partly to hypothetical discussions, respecting the nature of
the action, and its connexion with chemical atBnity. This
latter topic, in conformity with the plan which we laid down,
will be treated more at length in the Second Part of the Ar-
ticle. A number of new facts were, however, from time
to time, discovered, which we shall proceed to detail ; and
in order to preserve the historical order, we shall also brief-
ly touch upon those points of theory that are to be consi-
dered more fully hereafter.

A memoir appeared about this time from M. Biot, which
contains some important observations on the relative effects
of the different kinds of apparatus, especially with regard
to the size of the plates that enter into their composition.
Electricity is known to be discharged by points, and to be
retained by extensive surfaces ; and from {his circumstance
he conceives, that the smaller the plates are, the more ra-
pid will be the circulation of the fluid ; large plates furnish
a greater quantity of the fluid, but it is less rapid in its
motion ; smaller plates, on the contrary, furnish less fluid,
but it passes with more rapidity through the different parts
of the apparatus. Hence what was spoken of by Nichol-
son and others, as constituting the intensity of the fluid, is
resolved by Biot into the velocity of its motion. The differ-
ent operations of the pile are differently affected by these two
properties. The taste, the flash, and the shock, exist nearly
in the same degree, and all depend principally upon the ve-
locity ; while the combustion of the metals is more influ-
enced by the quantity of the electricity. The electrical at-
tractions also depend upon the quantity of fluid, and are
therefore more perceptible when large plates are used. It
is observed that a pile composed of small plates affords
very pungent shocks, but is more quickly exhausted. It
was before stated, that Biot had perceived the pile to de-
oxidate a portion of air in wl\ich it was confined; and he
now informs us, that the effect was produced more rapidly
when the ends of the pile were made to communicate by
intervening wires. The general conclusions with which he
sums up this interesting paper, are, that the galvanic fluid
resembles the electric in the repulsive property of its
particles, and that the different phenomena depend upon
variations in the quantity and velocity of the fluid. See
Journ. de Phys. lii. 264.

An elaborate set of experiments was published about th's
period by Lehot, on the direction of the galvanic current.
This subject had also occupied the attention of Biot, and it
was generally admitted that its course was from the zinc
plate, across the fluid, to the silver or copper plate. See
Jo'urn. de Phys. li. 135.

A circumstance of some importance in our view of the

550

GALVAJ.1SM.

action of tlic pile, was pointed out by Erman of Berlin : lie
remarks, that the action takes [ilacc, not Ijctwcen the me-
tals, but between the metal anil ihelluitl; tlicixTore, in dc-
signatinp; the end of the pile, we shouUl say that the zinc
end is the negative, and tlie copper the positive. Nichol-
son and Cruickshanks supposed the apparatus to be con-
structed copper, zinc, fiuid ; but we should say, zinc, fluid,
copper, as in this arranKcment we have the complete cir-
cle, {Journ. PInjs. liii. 121.) A similar remark was made
by Dr Priestley, who was at this time performint^ experi-
ments on galvanism in America : He says, that no altera-
tion is produced in the apparatus by whatever metal is
placed at the ends beyond the reach of the fluid. JVIost of
the phenomena of common electricity had been imitated by
the electricity of the pile, except that of attraction ; and
Gautherot now succeeded in contriving an apparatus for
producing this effect. It consisted of two delicate wires,
which hung loose from the extremities of the pile; when
they were brought near together, a sensible approximation
was perceived, and they were found to adhere with a de-
gree of force. See jinn, de C/tim. xxxix. 203.

It does not appear that Volta himself jiarticipatedjin any
degree, in the various discoveries that were made by means
of his apparatus, or that he employed any means for im-
proving or altering its original form. lie seems to have
interested himself solely in defending the hypothesis which
he had proposed to account for its operation, and which in-
deed may be considered as having led to its construction.
His opinion, that the primary action was electrical, and that
it depended upon a change in the distribution of the elec-
tric fluid, was now called in question by Mr Nicholson, Dr
Wollaston, and other English chemists, who were more
disposed to refer the effects to the chemical action of the
fluid interposed between the plates in oxidating the metals.
Volta, however, still adhered to his first opinion ; and, in a
paper written about this time, he lays it down as his de-
cided conviction, that the action of one of the metals upon
the other is the sole cause of the excitation of the electricity,
and that the only use of the interposed water is to convey
the excited electricity from one pair of plates to the other.
(Nich. Journ. 8vo. 1. 135.) — Some remarks were, about
this time, published on Volta's hopothesis, by Mr Cuth-
bertson and Dr Bostock ; the former objecting to some of
Volta's experiments, on which the electric hypothesis of
the pile was attempted to be established, and the latter
giving a more detailed account of the chemical hypothesis.
By an ingenious alteration in Bennet's electrometer, it
■was converted by Mr Pepys into a galvanometer. Mr Pe-
pys also confirmed the facts to which we have already al-
luded, that oxygen is absorbed by the pile, that it will not
act in azote or in hydrogen, and that it may be excited in
■vacuo, provided acid be interposed between the plates.
{^Philosoph. Mag. x. 38.) About this time, Ritter of Jena
entered upon his investigation of the galvanic phenomena,
and both performed many new experiments, and entered
very zealously into theoretical discussions. He conceived
that he had observed a connexion between galvanism and
magnetism: He says, that if an iron wire be placed in the
magnetic meridian, the north pole of the wire is more dis-
posed to become oxidated than the south pole; when the
magnetized wire is placed in water, the south pole, on the
contrary, is most affected. If similar wire be employed,
^ut not placed in the magnetic meridian, no difference is to
bt observed in the oxidation of the two extremities. See
Journ. de FInjs. Iv. 235.

In Jie experiments that had been performed on animals,
those with cold blood had been generally employed, both
on account of their being more convenient for the operation,
and from the greater tenacity witli which tlicy retain their

vitality. It was, liowevcr, ascertained, lliat animals with
warm blood were equally susceptible of the inlluencc ; and
Crevc ol \Vurlzbur15 had produced strong contractions
in a human leg after amputation. Vassali, in conjunction
with his friends, Oiulio and Rossi, performed a more am-
ide set of expeiiments upon tiic bojlics of some criminals
that were beheaded at Turin. {JJurn. de PIv.jh. Iv. 286.)
Tlicy paid particufu- attention to the effect of the galvanic
electricity upon the heart and the other involuntary mus-
"clcs, a point which had been the subject, of much coniro-
versy. Volta supposed that the involuntary muscles could
not be made to contract, fowler however asserts, that con-
tractions were excited in the heart, although with difficulty ;
and Vassali conlirnicd the oljscrvations of Fowler, and ex-
tended them to the stomach and intestines ; the same opi-
nion was also maintained by Nysten. (Journ. Phys. Iv.
465). On the other hand, Aldini, the nephew of Galvani,
who now came into notice as an assiduous experimentalist,
asserted that he was unable to act upon the heart.

Circaud announced a discovery, which, if it were fully
confirmed, would prove of great importance in physio-
logy, that the fibrine of the blood, immediately after it
leaves the vessels, may be made to contract by the galva-
nic apparatus. Delanietherie coiifiims the statement of
Circaud, from his own observations ; but we have been in-
formed that the expeiiment has not succeeded in this coun-
try ; and when we consider the difficulty and delicacy of the
process, we may be allowed, without impeaching the vera-
city of the narrators, to entertain some doubts on the sub-
ject. See Jo2irn. Phijs. Iv. 468 ; and Iv. 161.

In the year 1803, Aldini published his Treatise on Gal-
iL'aniam, a work which contains many curious experiments,
and also some new theoretical opinions. The experiments
which were the most calculated to produce an impression
upon the spectators, were performed on the body of a crimi-
nal, who was hanged at Newgate, and also on the head and
limbs of some of the larger warm-blooded animals. A pow-
erful battery being applied, very strong contractions were
excited, the limbs were violently agitated, the eyes opened
and shut, the mouth and jaws worked about, and the whole
face was thrown into frightful convulsions. These experi-
ments, however, were principally remarkable from the sub-
jects made use of, and the magnitude of the effect : there
were others performed, really more curious, in which very
considerable muscular contractions were excited, without
the intervention of any metal, or other substance which
could be supposed capable of disengaging the electric fluid.
In some cases the effect was produced by bringing into con-
tact the nerve of one animal with the muscle of another,
and at other times by employing the nerves and muscles of
the same animal. In some of the experiments, there ap-
pears to have been the most powerful contractions excited,
by bringing the parts of a warm and a cold blooded animal
into contact with each other. It does not appear, from any
expressions in this treatise, whether Aldini considered the
animal electricity, as he calls it, to be of a specifically dif-
ferent kind from that excited by the pile, or whether he
supposes that the different parts of the animal body have
the power of generating the same kind of electricity, with-
out the aid of any external agent. He, however, deduces
from his experiments an inference in favour of Galvani's
hypothesis, of a proper animal electricity inherent in the
body, and not requiring assistance of any external agent for
its developement.

There are some points respecting tliese experiments
that require farther explanation. The most obvious con-
clusion that we should draw from them, would be that
which was formed by Aldini himself, in favour of a proper
animal electricity. But if this be the case, they must be

GALVANIS3I,

551

regarded as essentially diflcrcnl from those of Galvani,
where an eleclricily ol the usual kind was certainly excit-
ed. Perhaps the most prohable supposition is, that the
parts of the body, in these experiments, acted in a manner
analogous to tlic pile which was constructed by Sir H. Da-
vy, in which electricity was developed by the action of two
diflerent fluids upon carbon. There are, however, many
circumstances wantini;, to render this analogy complete.

An important experiment was announced by Lagrave :
he slated, that by placing upon each other alternate layers
of muscular fibre and of brain, separated by a porous body,
soaked in salt water, a pile was formed, which produced
the usual eflects of the Galvanic apparatus : {Journ. Pliys.
Ivi. 235.) The experiment must be of difficult execution,
and we do not know that any one has since attempted to
repeat it. Should it be confirmed, it would throw some
light upon the experiments of Aldini, and would assist in
the explanation of those facts, where animal electricity
seemed to be developed, without the intervention of metal-
lic bodies.

About this time galvanic electricity began to be extensive-
ly employed in medicine, especially in those diseases wliere
common electricity had been previously found useful. It
might have been expected that much benefit would have been
derived from so powerful an agent, and one which is so easy
of application to any part of the body. Our expectations
of advantage have, however, been generally disai>pointed.
Flattering accounts of success were indeed published, in
difTerent nervous disorders, in paralytic affections, in deaf-
ness, in some kinds of blindness, in the recovery of persons
apparently drowned or suffocated, and even in hydropho-
bia and insanity. But we believe that the practice is now
very generally relinquished, from a conviction of its in-
utility.

Ritter published an account of a curious appendage to
Volta's pile, which he called llic secondary fiik, and which
lias been frequently called the ////e of Ritter. It is a kind
of electric apparatus, which may be charged by the voltaic
pile, or may be made to retain the electricity that is per-
petually flying off from this instrument. He perceived
that a body, which had formed part of the galvanic circle
in Ih.e pile of Volta, when the pile was removed, became
itself electrical ; but it exhibited an electricity opposite to
that which it had previously possessed. Thus, if tv.'o
wires terminating in water, and connected with the pile,
were discharging, one oxygen, and the other hydrogen,
when they were removed from it, they would still continue
to discharge the gases, but the operation would be revers-
ed. These wires, in this state, uiay be considered as
charged, and if a greater number of similar wires be placed
between the ends of the pile, they will all become charged.
'I'he nature of the experiment will not be aft'ected, if, in-
stead of wires terminating in water, plates of metal be
substituted, with wet cards interposed. An instrument
will thus be formed, which of itself cannot produce any
signs of electricity, but which may be rendered electrical,
by being placed in contact with the primary pile. When
the two piles are connected, the action of the ends of each
are reversed to each other, and as, when they are separated,
the ends of the secondary pile are again reversed, conse-
quently the ends of both the piles will now act in the same
manner. It is necessary for the pile of Ritter to remain
for some time in contact with the pile of Volta, in order
that it may be sufiiciently charged. It is stated that the
chemical effect of Ritter's pile, that is, its elVect in decom-
posing water, does not bear a regular ratio to its pliysiolo-
gical effect, that is, its elTect in giving shocks. The au-
thor observes, with respect to the voltaic pile, that its ten-
sion is the greatest, and it pioduces the strongest eflfects

on the sensations imniodlalcly after it is constructed, but
that its chemical cfftcts are the most powerful after it has
been acting for some hours. .See Journ. dc J'/nja. Ivii. 345.

Shortly after the publication of the account of the se-
condary pile, Ritter made a number of experiments with
the pile of Volta, which are original and curious. He ob-
served, that when a communication was formed between
the positive end of the voltaic pile and the earth, the whole
instrument became negatively electrified, and when the
communication was made with the negative end, the in-
strument became positive. These changes do not, how-
ever, destroy the chemical action of the pile, which goes
on in the same manner as before the communication was
formed. He supposes that the decomposition of water is
effected in consequence of the positive end disengaging
oxygen, and the negative end hydrogen, and that the two
ends have also a tendency to dispose metals to unite with
oxygen and hydrogen respectively. He says, if the posi-
tive end be armed with gold leaf, and the negative with
charcoal, and these substances be then brought into con-
tact, the gold will be burned ; but if the position of the
substances be reversed, the charcoal will be burned.
When the extremities of a pile do not cornmuiiicate, it is
said that the action exercised between the different plates
is very unequal ; the zinc, which is nearest the positive
end, is the most oxidated. It is also asserted, that if a pile
be broken into separate parts, by a number of wires insert-
ed between every fifth pair of plates, those wires nearest
the positive end will be the most oxidated; while, on the.
contrary, those wires near the negative end will be less
oxidated than if they had been simply plunged in water.
Hence he infers, that at the negative end an action has
taken place, or a state has been induced, the reverse of
oxidation. He goes so far as to say, that different sensa-
tions are excited by the two ends of the pile, the one ex-
panding, and the other contracting, the muscular fibre; the
positive end strengthens the pulse, and produces heat ; the
negalive weakens it, and pioduces cold. See Journ. de
Phys. Ivii. 401.

So far as we have been able to learn, few, if any, of the
experiments of Ritter have been repeated, either in Eng-
land or in France ; a circumstance which is not a little re-
markable, when we consider that many of them are quite
original, and would lend to important theoretical deduc-
tions. His language and manner of writing are, however,
unfortunately obscure ; and he abounds so much in hypo-
thesis, that he has not obtained that degree of attention to
which he would seern to be entitled, from his industry and
ingenuity. It is scarcely to be supposed that he could have
been mistaken respecting the effect of the secondary pile,
or that he would have invented a series of facts, the fallacy
of which might be so easily detected. With respect to
the experiments on the voltaic pile, their authority is more
doubtful ; they seem to have been performed with a mani-
fest view to a particular hypothesis; some of them are of
an indeterminate nature, and we may imagine that many
are exaggerated, or even inaccurately stated.

The attention of the difTerent experimentalists was now
much occupied with the comparative merits of the two
hypothesis, the electrical and chemical ; generally speak-
ing, the English seemed to incline to the latter, and the
continental writers to the former. Biot drew up a candid
and judicious niemoir, in whicli he compares the merits of
the two opinions, and endeavours to shew how far either of
them is supported by acknowledged facts. Electricity, he
observes, is certainly excited, but it is not certain whether
we ought to regard it as cause or etlect. He proceeds to
inquire, whether the action of the instrument depends en-
tirely upon the oxidation of the water, entirely upon the

552

GALVANISM.

influence of the metals, or whether it is not produced by
the two in conjunction. This lie decides to be the case;
and yet, at the same time that he makes this decision, he
appears to have a leaning towards the chemical hypothesis.
Sec jinti. de Chim. xlvii. 1.

In the year 1804, a very valuable memoir was written by
Hisinger and Berzelius, which must be regarded as con-
taining tlie fundamental principle of those doctrines, which
have since been so extensively developed by Sir Humphry
Davy. By passing the galvanic influence through solu-
tions of the different neutral salts, they found that there
was a transfer of the acid and alkali to diffeient parts of
the apparatus. They formed the general conclusion, that
whenever electricity is sent across a fluid, it disposes its
constituents to separate and pass to the two sides respec-
tively; combustible substances, alkalies, and earths, are at-
tracted to the negative ; acids, oxides, See. to the positive
exti-emity of the pile. The force of decomposition they
suppose is in the ratio of the quantity of electricity, and
that the electricity is in proportion to the surface of metal
which is in contact with a moist conductor. The decom-
position is also influenced by the affinity of the components
of the substance, its power of conducting electricity, and
other circumstances. See Jnn. de Chim. li. 1 67.

Mr Cruikshanks, among his earliest discoveries, had ob-
served, that an acid and an alkali were generated at the two
ends of the wires in the interrupted circuit, and this fact
had been confirmed by other experimentalists. The sub-
stances produced were supposed to be nitric acid and am-
monia ; the first originating from the union of oxygen with
the azote of air dissolved in the water, the latter from hy-
drogen combining with the same element. But it was now
announced, that muriatic acid and soda were generated by
passing the electric current through pure water, and where
this salt could not be suspected to be present in any part
of the apparatus, or in any of the materials employed. In
the spring of 1805, the following letter was published, pur-
porting to be written by Mr Peel of Cambridge : " I'took
about a pint of distilled water, and decomposed about one
half of it by means of galvanism, the other half I evapo-
rated, and found to remain at the bottom of the glass a
small quantity of salt, which, upon examination, proved to
be muriate of soda. The salt could not have been contain-
ed in the water before I made the experiment, because I
used every precaution to have it free from impurities. I
even took the trouble to repeat the experiment, though a
tedious one, and I again obtained the same result. A friend
of mine has just informed me that he has tried my expe-
riment, and has succeeded in procuring the salt." See
Til loch's Mag. xxi. 279.

Almost at the same time that this notice was published
in London, Pacchioni, professor at Pisa, gave an account of
some experiments upon the action of galvanism on wa-
ter, in which he obtained results analogous to those sta-
ted above. He informs us, that when water had been for
a long time subjected to the galvanic influence, and had
been parting with its oxygen from the extremity of a gold
wire, the fluid was found to contain a quantity of oxymu-
riatic acid. From this experiment he drew the following
conclusions: Oxymurialic acid is an oxide of hydrogen;
it consists of water deprived of part of its oxygen ; mu-
riatic acid is water in a still lower degree of oxidation ;
and, of course, oxygen and hydrogen are susceptible of
different degrees of oxidation. See Edinburgh Med. Journ.
i. 393.

A great degree of attention was excited by these expe-
riments, to which the tnore credit was attached, because
lliey proceeded from sources entirely independent of each
ether. They were repeated by different experimentalists

in this country, and in some cases with apparent success.
Mr Sylvester in particular, obtained traces both of muria-
tic acid and soda, where proper precautions were supposed
to have been taken, to exclude the muriate of soda from
every part of the apparatus. But from facts which have
been subsequently discovered, we may conclude, that the
substances obtained in these cases were not derived from
the decomposition of the water. Pacchioni's experimenta
are now universally admitted to have been incorrect; and
it appears that no such individual as Mr Peel could be
found in Cambridge, so that the letter bearing his name is
a complete fabrication. It was not, however, entirely with-
out its use ; for the minute examination of the effects of
galvanic electricity upon water, to which it gave rise, may
probably be regarded, in some measure, as the immediate
cause of Sir H. Davy's mo.st important discoveries.

An elaborate memoir was, about this time, written by
Erman, on the conducting power of different bodies, which
obtained the prize from the French Institute. His object
was to remove some anomalies, which appeared to exist
in the relation of the galvanic electricity to the different
conducting substances.

He divides all bodies into five classes: 1st, Perfect non-
conductors; 2d, Perfect conductors; 3d, Imperfect con-
ductors ; 4th, Positive conductors ; and Sth, Negative con-
ductors. The nature of the three first classes requires no
explanation ; the fourth and fifth class of bodies act as per-
fect conductors, when applied to either of the two poles
separately, but when placed between them, insulate either
the positive or negative pole respectively, and do not form
a communication between them. The flame of a spirit
lamp is described as a positive conductor; if it be applied
to each pole separately, it conducts the electricity ; but if
it be placed between the two poles, it will not form a com-
munication between them, in consequence of its insulating
the negative electricity. Although flame is a conductor
of galvanism, it does not conduct it so perfectly as metals.
No effect is produced, when flame is interposed between
the extremities of the pile. Flame is, however, a very dif-
ferent substance, according to the body from which it is
procured : the above observation refers to the flame of a
hydro-carbonous body. The flame of sulphur insulates
both the poles ; and that of phosphorus insulates the posi-
tive, and conducts the negative influence. Phosphorus
must therefore be placed in the fifth class of bodies; and
perfectly dry soap is also a negative conductor.

The author gives an account of a number of experiments
that he performed on this latter substance, many of which
are curious and original. Hard soap, when perfectly dry,
if applied to either end of the galvanic pile, conducts all
the electricity from that extremity into the ground, and
there appears to be no perceptible difference in its action
upon the two extremities. If wires be connected with each
end, and be made to terminate in a prism of hard dry soap«
which is kept insulated, the circuit will not be completed;
but if this soap be uninsulated, by establishing a communi-
cation with the ground, an electrometer connected with the
positive pole, manifests a great degree of divergence, while
one on the negative pole loses all signs of it. " Consequent-
ly," M. Erman observes, " the soap which insulates the
positive effect, is a perfect conductor for the negative."
As a proof and illustration of this property, the author in-
forms us, that « if one finger be applied to the wire of
the positive pole, and another finger wetted to the soap,
no shock is felt, and the electrometers do not show the
least change in their respective divergencies. But if the
experiment be repeated, by establishing a communication
between the positive pole and the soap with both fingers
wetted, a very perceptible shock will be felt, and the two

GALVAIslSM.

553

electrometers will arrive at an equal, and a very weak ile-
grcc of intensity." He proposes the following nomencla-
ture for these five classes of bodies : 1st, Insulators ; 2d,
Perfect conductors; 3cl, Bipolar imperfect conductors;
4tli, Positive unipolar; and 6Ui, Negative unipolar: {Jour.
Pkys. \\w. 121.) Altliougl), as we sliall afterwards find,
Mr Brande explains the facts upon rather a diflerent prin-
ciple, yet they arc hii^hly important, and M. Ei'man is en-
titled to much commendation fur the skill with which he
conducted his experiments.

Guyton suggested an idea, which appears sufficiently
plausible, that the action of galvanism may affect the for-
mation of metallic oxides, and even cause them to assume
the particular forms whicli they occasionally exhibit : {Ami.
de Chim, Ixiii. 113.) Bucholtz detailed a series of experi-
ments which he performed, where a metallic oxide, held
in solution by an acid, was precipitated in the metallic state
by the metal itself. The metallic solution was placed in
the bottom of a cylindrical jar, and a stratum of water was
carefully spread over it. A slip of the same kind of metal
that formed the solution was then placed perpendicularly
in both the fluids. The upper part of the metal whicii was
in the water was oxidated, while the lower part in the me-
tallic solution had particles of the reduced metal deposited
upon it. The reduction of the oxide was always expedited
by whatever piomoted the oxidation of the upper part of
the metal. Experiments of an analogous nature were per-
formed by Grotthus, on what he calls the arborization of
metals, which, like the circle of actions described by Bu-
choltz, he attributes to a galvanic operation. In these pro-
cesses, however, there are two metals concerned; and he
shews that the tree is formed by successive portions of the
dissolved oxide being reduced and attaclied to the solid
metal, which, in its turn, becomes oxidated : {Ann. de
Chim. Ixiii. 5.) We have a little anticipated the chronolo-
gical order in the relation of these two last sets of experi-
ments, in order that we might not be interrupted in narrat-
ing the account of the decomposition of the alkalies and
earths, which composes the third period of the history of
galvanism.

Sect. III. Decom/wsition of the Alkalies and Earths.

About the conclusion of the year 1805, Sir H. Davy read
to the Royal Society of London the first of his series of pa-
pers, on what has been styled the electro-chemical action
of bodies, which have been so justly celebrated, no less for
the brilliant discoveries of which they give an account,
than lor the acuteness and sagacity which the author dis-
plays in his researches into the most hidden operations of
nature. He commences by some remarks on the action
of galvanic electricity upon water. He notices the experi-
ments in which acids and alkalies appear to have been
formed in water subjected to the galvanic current; and he
states, that when he employed separate portions of water,
connected together by slips of bladder, and united by gold
wires to the voltaic battery, he obtained nitro-muriatic acid
at the positive, and soda at the negative wire. It was, how-
ever, conjectured, that the animal matter placed between
the two portions of water might contain muriate of soda,
and thus afi'ord the substances procured in the experiment;
he therefore, at the suggestion of Dr Wollaston, substi-
tuted asbestos for the slips of bladder. It was also con-
ceived, that when glass vessels were used, the alkali might
proceed from a partial decomposition of the glass; and af-
ter trying various other substances, at length conical ves-
sels of gold were employed: (Plate C'CLXIII. Fig. 9.)
With these precautions, and when the water was very
carefully prepared, no acid or alkali were obtained ; aii;cl

Vol. IX. Part II.

consequently tiie author concludes, that in all those experi-
ments which were attended with contrary results, the acid
and alkali must have proceeded from some extraneous
source, not having been generated, but evolved, either from
symething held in solution by the winter, or from some of
the materials employed in the apjiaratus. Perfectly pure
water, when sidjjccted to the action of electricity, affords
nothing except oxygen and hydrogen.

The very powerful action of the galvanic electricity, in
the decomposition of various cartiiy and saline compounds,
as experienced by Sir H. Davy in the researches above
mentioned, offered an extensive field for farther investi-
gation. Hisingcr and Berzidius, in the valuable memoir
to which we have already referred, noticed the tendency
which different bodies possess, to attach themselves to one
of the wires exclusively ; acids and analogous bodies being
attracted to the positive, while alkalies, metals, and all in'
flammables, were attracted to the negative v/ire. , Our au-
thor had observed similar phenomena in his own experi-
ments, and was induced to make them the more immediate
subject of his examination. Acids and alkalies were found
uniformly to observe this order; and it was perceived, that
when substances, not supposed to be soluble in water, form-
ed part of the circuit, they were also decomposed, and their
components carried to the positive and negative wires re-
spectively. In this way was effected the decomposition
of sulphate of lime, sulphate of strontites, filiate of lime,
and sulpliatc of barytes. It was also perceivec, thatwher6
small portions of acid and alkaline bodies entced into the
composition of solid earths, they might be detected by the
galvanic influence, and would be transmitted 'o their re-
spective wires. In this way, lime and soda were obtained
from basalt and from zeolite, potash from lepidolite, Sec.
In proportion to the solubility of a salt, its decomposition
was the more readily accomplished ; and when neutral salts
were employed, the separation of the component parts
seems to have been quite complete.

The tendency which different substances possess to at-
tach themselves to their appropriate wires, causes them to
be transferred across a medium which may be interposed.
Thus, if muriate of lime be at the positive wire, the lime
will pass, for a considerable space, to gain the negative
wire, (Plate CCLXIII. Figs. 10, 11.) and may be convey-
ed from one vessel to another along the conducting fibres
of the asbestos. In the same manner, when nitrate of sil-
ver was on the positive side, and distilled water on the ne-
gative, the silver passed along the transmitting amianthus,
so as to cover it with a thin metallic film. When a neu-
tral salt was placed in a vessel, between two other vessels
of water connected by asbestos, the alkali passed to the ne-
gative, and the acid to the positive side : the decomposi-
tion in this case is complete, and the substances produced
quite pure. A small vessel of the infusion of litmus was '
interposed between pure water and the solution of sulphate
of potash, and the latter was negatively electrified. The
acid passed across to the positive wire, and reddened the
litmus, but the change of colour did not extend beyond the
centre; so that the negative side, although it was transmit-
ting the acid, was not affected by it. An experiment of
precisely an opposite kind was performed with the infu-
sion of turmeric, with a similar result; and afterwards the
two operations were combined in tiie same experiment, so
that soda passed through turmeric, and muriatic acid
through litmus, each without changing their colour.

As it appeared that acids and alkalies could be convey-
ed through water, without affecting colouring substances
dissolved in it, Sir H. Davy next tried whether this power
might not extend to other bodies. He accordingly found,
that acids could be transmitted through alkalies, and alka-
4 A

554

GALVANISM.

lies through acids, to their respective wires, without neu-
tralizing each other ; and, in short, tluit the electrical state
which was induced upon a sul)slance, by the contact of the
galvanic apparatus, had the power of counteracting, or even
changing, the effects of cliemical affinity. Tne general
principle was thus completely established, that hydrogen,
alkalies, and metals, are attracted by the negative and re-
pelled by the positive end of the pile, while acids and oxy-
gen are attracted by the positive, and repelled by the nega-
tive. For the produciion of this effect, it is necessary tnat
there be a conducting chain of particles through the trans-
mitting fluids ; the transfer cannot take place where inso-
luble compounds are formed, because in this case the new
compound is carried out of the sphere of action.

The establishment ol the general principle mentioned
above, suggested some views of the nature of the change
produced by electricity, which led to a new train of expe-
riments. Sir H. Davy observes, that many bodies, after
being brought into contact, exhibit opposite slates when
they are separated. When a galvanic combination is form-
ed from an acid, an alkali, and a metal, the alkali appears
to accjuire, and the acid to part with, a quantity of electri-
city ; the alkali is therefore rendered positive, and the acid
negative, and they will of course have an attraction for each
other. He found, that when such acids as were capable
of lieing en ployed in- the dry state were touched by metals,
and tlien separated, the acids were rendered negative, and
the metals positive; but when the metals were touched by
the alkaline eyrths, the metals became negative. Hence it
may be conduded, that acids and alkalies not only exhibit
opposite electricities, when they have been in contact with
metals, but also when they have been in contact with each
other. The attraction of oxygen and acid for the positive,
and of hydrogen and. alkalies for the negative electricity,
is so powerful, as to counteract their usual chemical affi-
nities.

These considerations mduced the author to enter into
some farther speculations respecting the relation between
the electricity of bodies and their chemical affinities. We
have seen that chemical affinity is destroyed by giving a
body an electricity different from its natural one, and is, on
the contrary, increased by giving it a greater share of its
natural electricity. It would farther appear, that all those
bodies which possess a chemical affinity for each other are
naturally in opposite states of electricity ; and hence we
conclude, that by inducing a state of electricity upon any
body, contrary to its natural one, its chemical relations may
be changed, and that thus we have in our possession an
agent of indefinite power for affecting the decomposi-
tion of substances which had hitherto withstood all our at-
tempts.

With respect to the action of the voltaic pile. Sir H.
Davy conceives, that the first step in the process is the de-
struction of the electrical equilibrium, and that the chemi-
cal changes tend to restore it to its original state. The
saline solution, which is interposed between each pair of
plates, is decomposed, the acid is transferred to the zinc,
and the alkali to the copper surface. This tends to restore
the equilibrium, wliich is destroyed by the contact of the
metallic elements of the pile ; but the solution of the zinc,
which then takes place, again alters the electrical condition
of the bodies, and maintains the energy of the apparatus.
Upon the whole, although it may be supposed that the clie-
mical changes are an essential part of the process, they are
considered by the author as only of secondary importance ;
the first step in the process, and that which immediately
gives lise to all the rest, being an electrical effect arising
from the action of bodies placed in contact.

The uncommon merit of this paper has induced us to

give a copious abstract of its contents. It may be regard-
ed, not only as giving rise to some of the most important
experiments and discoveries that have occurred in the his-
tory of modern science ; but as leading to the establish-
ment of a new train of reasoning, and to a new theory,
respecting the action of bodies upon each other, and the
connexion which subsists between the different branches
of natural philosophy. The general principle being clear-
ly established, the consequences were comparatively ob-
vious, and the skill and iiigenuity, which Sir H. Davy af-
terwards manifested, in the contrivance and execution of
the experiments, which are next to be related, although
attended by such brilliant results, are really less merito-
rious, than that profound insight into the operations of na-
ture, by which they were suggested. Highly, however, as
we appreciate the merit of Sir H. Davy, we think it pro-
per to remark, that the views suggested by Hisinger and
Berzelius must be regarded as leading to the theory that
was so amply detailed and so firmly established by our
illustrious countryman. See Phit. Trans, for 1807, 1.

About a year after the reading of the above paper, Sir
H. Davy presented a second to the Royal Society, in which
he most happily applied his hypothesis to practice, and
succeeded in solving the problem, which had so long re-
mained involved in obscurity, respecting the composition
of the fixed alkalies. After encountering some difficulties
in tlie arrangements of the operation, the grand object was
at length accomplished in the following manner. " A small
piece of pure potash, which had been exposed for a few
seconds to the atmosphere, so as to give conducting power
to the surface, was placed upon an insulated disc of platina,
connected with the negative side of the battery, of the
power of 250 of 6 and 4, in a state of intense activity ; and
a platina wire, communicating with the positive side, was
brought into contact with the upper surface of the alkali.
The Whole apparatus was in the open atmosphere. Under
these circumstances, a vivid action was soon observed to .
take place. The potash began to fuse at both its points of
electrization. There was a violent effervescence at the
upper surface ; at the lower, or negative surface, there
was no liberation of elastic fluid ; but small globules, hav-
ing a high metallic lustre, and being precisely similar in
visible characters to quicksilver, appeared, some of which
burst with explosion and bright flame, as soon as they
were formed, and others remained, and were merely tar-
nished, and finally covered by a white film, which formed
on their surfaces."

These globules proved to be the substance of which the
author was in search, and were found to be a peculiar in-
flammable body, possessed of very singular properties,
which constituted the base of potash. Dy employing a si-
milar kind of process, a substance was procured from soda,
which exhibited properties of an analogous nature, and
which was the basis of the mineral, as the former was that
of the vegetable alkali.

The author then proceeded to examine the properties of
these bodies, and by a masterly train of experiments, sim-
ple yet conclusive, he demonstrated that they are metals ;
that they have every quality which is deemed essential to
characterise this class of substances, and that the alkalies
are oxides of these metals. The theory of the decompo-
sition of the alkalies, by means of the galvanic apparatus,
is sufficiently obvious, and follows as the direct conse-
(|ucnce of the facts that had been previously established.
In all the decompositions that had been effected by the
electrical influence, combustible substances were develo-
ped at the negative wire, while oxygen was produced or
evolved at the positive termination. That this was the case
with the alkalies, was not only rendered probable by the

GALVANISM .

555

vesult of the process, but was afterwards proved by sub-
sequent experiments. " When solid potash or soda, in its
conducting state, was included in glass lubes, furnished
with electrified platina wires, the new substances were ge-
nerated at tlie negative surfaces ; the gas given out at the
other surface, proved by the most delicate examination, to
be pure oxygen ; and unless an excess of water was pre-
sent, no gas was evolved from the negative surlace."

The experiments by synthesis confirmed the results of
those by analysis. The new metallic bodies were convert-
ed -into potash, by exposure to the air, and it was found
that this depended upon the oxygenous part of il. When
the globules were placed in contact with oxygen, they com-
bined with it, and were covered with an alkaline crust. Sir
H. Davy observes very justly, " that in these facts there
is the same evidence for the decomposition of potash and
soda into oxygen and two peculiar substances, as there is
for the decomposition of sulphuric and phosphoric acids
and the metallic oxides, into oxygen and their respective
combustible bases." The two components of the alkalies
obey the general law which was laid down in the former
paper ; the metallic or combustible base is attracted by the
negative extremity of the apparatus ; and perhaps repell-
ed by the positive ; while the oxygen, which reduces it to
the state of an oxide, follows the contrary order. In the
recomposition of the alkalies, the substances exert their
natural affinities ; according to circumstances, either sim-
ple oxidation is produced, or a more rapid combiiiation,
attended with the extrication of heat and light.

Sir H. Davy next proceeded, in an elaborate train of ex-
periments, to ascertain the physical properties of these me-
tals, to which he gave the names of potassium and sodium,
and their chemical relations to other bodies. He examined
their fusibility, the power wliich they possess of conduct-
ing electricity and caloric, and their specific gravity. He
afterwards observed their action on water, the acids, sul-
phur, phosphorus, the metals, oils, and metallic oxides. It
is scarcely necessary to reinark, thai the examination was
conducted with the address and dexterity which charac-
terize all the operations of this distinguished experimen-
talist. A minute detail of the particulars wouk! be foreign
to the object of this article, and strictly belongs to the science
of chemistry ; galvanism being no farther connected with
these bodies, than as the instrument by which they are pro-
duced. On this account it will not fall under our pruiince
to notice the discussions which ensued respecting the na-
ture of these new metals ; for although it was generally ad-
mitted that the substances were the bases of the fixed al-
kalies, and were metallic, yet there were some circum-
stances in the mode of their formation, which led to the
supposition, that they were a compound of a metal and hy-
drogen ; but this opinion is now abandoned.

The analogy which exists between the properties of the
fixed and the volatile alkalies, led SirH. Davy to apply his
powerful means of decomposition lo ammonia. The analo-
gy of properties, however, which causes them to be plac-
ed in the same class of bodies, seemed to be counteracted
by the experiments of Berthollet, who, as is well known,
had resolved this latter substance entirely into hydrogen
and azote. Accordingly the metallic nature of ammonia
has not yet been proved, and although Sir H. Davy, in his
earlier experiments, conceived that he had procured oxy-
gen from it, and Berzelius obtained a species of amalgam,
by exposing it in contact with mercury to the galvanic in-
fluence, yet subsequent experiments by Henry, and Gay-
Lussac and Thenard, appear to explain these appearances
on other principles, and to restore the original conclusion,
that ammonia is a compound of azote and hydrogen alone.
See Phil. Trans, for 1808, p. 1.

Sir H. Davy next turned his attention to the earths. He
found them more difficult to decompose than the alkalies,
and many arrangements were employed without success.
Ti.e object was, however, at length, to a certain degree, ac-
complished, by mixing the earth \\\\h a metallic oxide, and
placing this in contact with a globule of mercury negative-
ly electrified, when an amalgai.i was formed, consisting of
the mercury and the metal of the earth employed. In this
way it appeared, that a metallic basis had certainly been
obtained from the four alkaline earths, to which the names
of barium, calcium, strontium, and magnium, were respec-
tively applied. The remaining earths, silex, alumine, zir-
con, and glucine, were still more refractory, probably in
consequence of their more powerful affinity for oxygen.
No decomposition could be effected by the same means
which had been found successful with tlie alkaline earths ;
but it was at length partially accomplished, by keeping the
earth in fusion with potash, inducing upon it positive elec-
tricity, and touching it with a negative wire. In this case
an amalgam was produced, which probably consisted of the
metal of the earth employed and potassium. See Phil.
Trans, for 1808, p. 333.

The brilliant discoveries of Sir H. Davy, and still more
the new and powerful agent which he had jnlroduced into
chemistry, could not fail to engage the attention of all
those who were interested in the progress of the science.
Among these Gay-Lussac and Thenard in France, and
Berzelius in Sweden, immediately commenced tlieir ope-
rations in the application of galvanic electricity to the de-
composition of bodies, made many important experiments,
and brought to light many new facts. The general result
was, lo afford an ample confirmation of the statements of
our illustrious countrymen in their most important parts,
although in some particulars they regarded the subject in
a different point of view, both as to themode of accounting
for Ihe effects, and the consequences which they deduced
trom ihem. These discussions, as well as the many new
and interesting experiments connected with them, which
have completely changed the aspect of many branches of
chemistry, and have enlarged our knowledge of the nature
of bodies far beyond its former limits, it does not belong lo
our department to detail. It will be proper, however, to lay
before our readers some of the observations that were made
by Gay-Lussac and Thenard, on what strictly belongs to
galvanism, reserving the consideration of the hypothetical
opinions to the second division of the article.

These sagacious experimentalists remark, that, next to
the construction of the pile itself, the most important dis-
covery was made by Hisinger and Berzelius, who found
that when the electric current decomposed a neutral salt
or an oxide, the oxygen and acid were carried to the posi-
tive end, and the base to the negative. The application of this
principle enabled Sir H. Davy to effect the decomposition of
the alkalies. The authors point out the distinction between
the electrical and the chemical energy of the pile ; actions
which are essentially dissimilar, and which do not exist in
the same ratio. They state, that a comparatively few plates,
with acid interposed between them, will decompose the al-
kalies ; while a greater number, with water instead of acid,
will not produce this effect, and will yet exhibit a higher
electrical tension. The power of the apparatus was found
to be nearly in proportion to the strength of the acid em-
ployed ; and some comparative expeiiments were insti-
tuted, for the purpose of comparing the effects of acids, al-
kalies, and neutral salts. The test which they employed
to judge of the quantity of effect produced by the pile, was
the amount of gas evolved from a fluid, subjected to the
action of the wires connected with its two extremities :
this they conceived was a more exact measure of its energy
4 A 2

556

fiALYANISM.

than the different lengths of wire which it was capable of
consuming.

When they employed a very powerful battery, it was ob-
served that considtnible shocks wcic given l)y it to an in-
dividual ; but that in a chain of four or five pcisons, it was
not felt in the centre ; and in the exucmities of the cliain,
that part of the body received the greatest impression
which was nearest to the apparatus. This fact is sup-
posed to prove, that the electric fluid cannot circulate
through the whole circuit, according to the Franklincan
hypothesis. When the battery is put into strong action,
ils chemical efl'ect, i. e. its power of decomposing wacer,
soon declines, or altogether ceases, while its electrical
tension remains for some time longer unimpaired.

An interesting tiain of experiments is next detailed, in
which mercury was interposed between the wires, and
formed an amalgam with the substance which was intend-
ed to be decomposed : an arrangement which we have al-
ready pointed out as Iiaving been employed by Sir H. Da-
vy in his decomposition of the proper earths. They re-
peated the experiments of this philosopher on ammonia,
and they formed the amalgam with mercury, which he con-
ceived was composed of this substance with the metallic
basis of ammonia ; but they dilTer from him in their idea of
its consii'.ution, and suppose that there is no evidence of
the existence of the metal of the volatile alkali, although
the analogy of tlie fixed alkalies offers so powerful an ar-
gument in its favour.

While Sir H. Davy was pursuing, with so much success,
his interesting researches into the eleclro-cliemical action
of bodies upon each other, M. De Luc undertook to inves-
tigate the nature of the galvanic pile, and to examine the
^node of its operation. After some animadversions upon
the hypothesis of the inherent electric energies of bodies,
■which constitute the origin of the train of phenomena that
are connected with the pile, he proceeds to dissect this in-
strument into three parts. He divides it into three sepa-
rate groups, corresponding to what he regards as the three
elements of the pile. These elements are the two metals
and a fluid. They were first placed with the fluid between
the two metals ; then with the fluid in contact with one,
and afterwards in contact with the other metal, the differ-
ent groups being kept distinct from each other by small
vire stands, so as to confine the action to that part alone.
When ilic piles were fitted up in these three diiTerent ways,
a delicate electrometer was attached to each extremity,
and they were also connected by the interrupted wire pass-
ing through water, (Plate CCLXIII. Figs. 14, 18, 19.)
His first set of experiments were made upon the pile in
■which the groups were arranged with the fluid between
the two metals. By means of the electrorneter, he ob-
served which ends of the apparatus were in the positive
and negative states respectively ; and he likewise made
some new observations on the direction which the electric
current takes in its passage across the water — in the in-
terrupted circuit— and in the body of the pile itself. His
observations agreed with those originally made by Nichol-
son, that tlie extremity of the pile which is connected with
the wire emitting oxygen, is positive, and that the current
is directed from this to the wire which emits the hydrogen.
He informs us, however, that although electrometers plac-
ed at the extremities, when they are affected, indicate the
electricity to be in the state mentioned above ; yet they are
not alwr.ys both of them affected, sometimes only the posi-
tive electricity is visible, sometimes only the negative,
■«'h;le at other times both of them are perceptible. He
conceives that, from va-ious causes, the electric fluid
passes through the apparatus with different velocity at dif-
ferent times, or through its • different parts at the same

lime, so as to produce a partial accumulation or deficiency:
It seems to be always retarded when it passes frem the
point of the wire into water. He observes, lliat the expres-
sions positive and negative, as applied to the ends of the
pile, or to the wires in llie interrupted circuit, can only be
regarded as comparative terms, because the chemical ac-
tion of tlie pile goes on as usual in the decomposition of
water, although the whole instrument be rendered poiitivc
or negative, by attacliing it to the prime conductor, or to
tlie rubber of the electrical machine. This experiment is
adduced to prove, that the action of the pile is not neces-
sarily connected with the electric energy of the substances
that enter into its composition. The pile, when dissected
in the first way, with the fluid interposed between the two
metals, acts in the same manner as if the parts were con-
tinuous, except that the effect is rather less powerful.

M. De Luc then examined the action of the pile, when
dissected according to the second arrangement, where the
metals were placed together, and the wet cloth in contact
with the zinc, or the most oxidable of the metals; the ter-
nary groups being separated from each other by the wire
frames. The extremities of the pile indicated to the elec-
trometer the same states of positive and negative, as in the
former instance, but no shock was experienced; when the
Aviicsof the interrupted circuit were placed in water, al-
though it appeared that there was a communication es-
tablished through the fluid, yet no decomposition took
place, nor did there appear to be the retardation of the elec-
tric current upon its entering the fluid, as in the former
case. Hence the author concludes, that the elect! ical and
chemical efi'ects originate from different causes, because in
this state of the instrument the electrical effects continue,
although the chemical cfl'ccts arc suspended. The third
dissection of I lie pile was now made, /. e. it was divided into
ternary groups, consisting of the metals contiguous to each
other, and tlie wet cloths in contact with the silver; the
groups being separated as before, by wire supports. Here
there was no cflect perceptible, either electrical or chemi-
cal.

In the above experiments, the cloths which were em-
ployed to retain the fluid were moistened with water : A
second set of experiments was now performed, in which a
strong solution of muriate of soda was employed. The
pile, whether moistened with water or the saline solution,
had the same efl'ect upon the electrometers, both as to
quality and quantity ; but v.hen the salt was used, there
was a more powerful effect upon the sensations. He ob-
served, that anev/ shock was experienced every time either
of the hands was brought into contact with the apparatus,
or removed from it ; but that no effect took place as long
as they remained in contact. When the interrupted circuit
was applied between the extremities of the pile, the
shock might be felt, but it was rendered less violent ; and
the chemical effects were diminished, but not suspended,
while the contact of the body was preserved: hence it may
be inferred, that the body is about an equally good conduc-
tor with water. The retardation of the current appeared
to be rather greater in this case, than where the apparatus
was supplied with pure water.

The pile was now dissected in the same three ways as
before, muriate of soda in solution being employed instead
of water. In the first dissection, i. e. with the moistened
cloths between the plates, the same electric eflects were
exhibited by the electrometers, the same shock was felt,^
and the same chemical effects were produced, only in ra-
ther a less degree than in the continuous pile, with muriate
of soda. The second and third dissections of the pile pro-
duced exactly the same effect, as when the same dissec-
tions were employed with pure water.

GALVANISM,

557

The author afterwards enters upon a number of specu-
lations respecting the manner in whicli the electric lluiil
circulates through the apparatus, and upon the immediate
cause of the electrical and chemical phenomena. He con-
ceives, that when no cause of retardation exists, the elec-
tric fluid circulates so rapidly through the pile, as not to
exhibit any of its effects, or indeed not to indicate its pre-
sence; and that when these arc manifested, it always de-
pends upon some retarding cause. The electrical and che-
mical effects are supposed to originate from different parts
of the pile, or from different groups, considered in their re-
lation to the parts contiguous to them. The electrical ef-
fects consist simply in the combination of the two metals,
each pair being separated by a non-metallic conductor ;
while for the chemical effects, ternary groups are neces-
sary, the two metals with a fluid between them. This dis-
tinction between the two sets of properties, or the two
modes of action, is supposed to be proved by the different
effects which are produced by the pile in its three states of
dissection. In the pile dissected in the first manner, which
indeed may be regarded as equivalent to the instrument in
the continuous state, both the electrical and chemical ac-
tion takes place : for here are the two metals, either in con-
tact, or connected by the wire frames, for the electrical
effects ; and for the chemical effects, there are the two me-
tals with the wet cloth interposed. In the pile as dissected
in the second manner, there are the binary groups, i. e. the
metals in contact, and accordingly they produce the elec-
trical effects ; but wc have no chemical effects, because
they have no fluid between them. In the third dissection,
no effects are produced; we have not the chemical effects,
because the metals have not the wet cloth between them,
and wc have no electrical effects, because the zinc has the
cop])cr plate on one side, and the wire frame on the other,
which have the same electrical relation to the zinc, and
therefore counteract each other.

The different effects which seemed to ensue, between
the pile when furnished with pure water, and with the so-
lution of a neutral salt, induced M. De Luc to examine
what connexion existed between the oxidation of the zinc,
and the chemical action of the instrument. For this pur-
pose he formed a pile of silver and pewter, the pewter be-
ing selected for tlic experiment, because it has an electri-
cal relation with silver, and is oxidable by muriatic acid, at
the same time that it is not much affected by pure water.
In the first instance, water was interposed between the
plates; the extremities of the pile, as indicated by the elec-
trometer, became electric, the pewter side negative, and the
silver positive ; but there was no shock, nor any decompo-
sition of the water in the interrupted circuit. A pile was
then formed of such a number of zinc and silver plates, that
its electrical energy might be the same with the pewter
pile ; but here there was both the shock produced, and the
decomposition of water. The pile of pewter and silver was
then fitted up with muriatic acid ; and in this case, when
the pewter plates became oxidated, the shock and the de-
composition of water were both produced. From these ex-
periments, the author deduces the following conclusions.
When the metal is not oxidated, no chemical effect is pro-
duced on the water in the interrupted circuit. When the
oxidation is produced by means of pure water, there is no
shock, although the chemical effects take place; and lastly,
Avhen either of these effects are produced, the current of
electricity is retarded in its pabsage across the water in the
interrupted circuit.

It was in the prosecution of these experiments, while he
was examining the effect of different conducting substances
placed between the plates, that M. De Luc was led to the
discovery of the curious instrument, called the Electric co-

lumn ; a pile consisting of a number of discs of zinc and
gilt paper, placed alternately upon each other, and included
in a glass tube. This has already been described under
the article Electiucity, and as it must be regarded as a
strictly electrical apparatus, we shall not enter into any de-
tails respecting its effects or its mode of action. See Ni-
cholson's Journal, xxvi. 39.

\Vhilc Sir 11. Davy and M. De Luc were thus enlarging
our knowledge of the powers of galvanism as a chemical
agent, and of the means by which its wondeiful effects are
accomplished, Mr Children was advantageously employing
himself in improving the apparatus. He formed a battery,
constructed upon a principle originally suggested by Vol-
ta, according to which the plates are not cemented toge-
ther, but are connected only at the top by a metallic con-
ductor, and are then immersed in the cells of a trough.
(Plate CCLXIII. Fig. 5.) Fie employed 20 pair of plates,
of four feet by two, making in all a surface of 92,1 60 square
inches. The fluid that he used was a diluted mixture of
nitric and sulphuric acids, the whole quantity being no less
than 120 gallons. The effect of these large plates was to
fuse entirely, in about 20 seconds, 18 inches of platina wire,
of one-thiitieth of an inch in diameter, and to render three
feet of the same wire red hot. Charcoal was burned with
intense brilliancy." It seemed not a little remarkable, con-
sidering the powerful effect on platina wires, that the ac-
tion of this battery on iron wires was comparatively trifling.
Of iron wire, l-70th of an inch in diameter, it barely fused
ten inches, and had not power to ignite three feet. It had
not the power of decomposing barytes and other simitar
substances ; it did not affect Bennet's electrometer ; and it
seemed scarcely able to produce a perceptible shock.

Mr Children next formed a battery of 200 pairs of plates
of two inches square, affarding a surface of 3200 inches.
With this the alkalies and alkaline earths were readily de-
composed, and a considerable divergence was produced in
the gold leaves of the electrometer. From this compari-
son of the effects of the two batteries, we are led to the
conclusion which has been already referred to, that the
intejisity of the electricity is increased with the number,
and the quantity of it with the extent, of the metallic plates.
Upon this principle, we may explain why the platina wire
was acted upon more readily than the iron wire, the more
perfect conducting quality of the former presenting no ob-
stacle to the passage of the electricity through it ; while
the tendency of the iron to oxidation required a greater in-
tensity of the fluid to effect its transmission through the
wire. In this paper the author states, that he has remov-
ed one of the objections that have been urged against the
identity of the galvanic and the common electricity, that the
former has no striking distance ; by employing a proper
apparatus, he ascertained that the galvanic spaik was ca-
pable of passing through a certain space between the ex-
tremities of two platina wires.

Mr Children's general conclusion is, that " the absolute
effect of a voltaic apparatus is in the compound ratio of the
number and size of the plates; the intensity of the electri-
city being as the former, the quantity given out as the lat-
ter; consequently, regard must be had in its construction,
to the purposes for which it is designed. For experiments
on perfect conductors, very large plates are to be prefer-
red, a small number of which will probably be sufficient;
but where the resistence of imperfect conductors is to be
overcome, the combination must be great, but the size of
the plates must be small. But if quantity and intensity be
both required, then a great number of large plates will be
necessary. For general purposes, four inches square will
be found to be the most convenient size." See Phil. Trans,
for 1809, p. 32.

558

GALVANISM.

Mr Children has since constructed a still larger and
more powerful battery, consisuiigof 20 pairs of copper and
zinc plates, each plate btin^- six feel by two feet eight
inches. It ignited six feet ot thick phitina wire, and melt-
ed platina with great facility ; it also melted iridium and
osmium. At the suggestion of Dr Wollaslon, a singular
fact was ascertained, that a greater length of tliick platina
wire was ignited, than of platina wire of a much smaller
size. See Thomson's Annals, Vi. 147.

We have given some arcouiit of a paper of Erman's, in
which he endeavours to show, that certain bodies are what
he calls Unipolar, that is, that they are conductors of one
kind of electricity only. Mr Brande conceived, that the
facts brought forward by Erman, might admit of a better
explanation upon a different principle, viz. that some che-
mical bodies, being naturally positive, and otiiers naturally
negative, they would be attracted to the surface of the pile
in a contrary state to their own, the positive to the negative,
and the negative to the positive surface.

In order to submit his opinion to the test of experiment,
Mr Brande procured two insidated metallic balls, one con-
nected with the prime conductor, and the other with the
rubber of an electrical machine ; and placing between them
the different substances under examination, he observed to
■which of the balls they were attracted. He found that the
flame of a candle, which principally consists of carbon and
hydrogen, was attracted to the negative ball ; while the
flame of phosphorus, which would contain a quantity of

phosphoric acid, was attracted to the positive side. Here
the bodies seemed to follow the known laws of electro-che-
mical attraction, accordnig to the idea of their inherent
electrical states; and the other experiments which he per-
formed of a similar nature, generally tended to the same
conclusion. The facts stated in this paper are conceived
to be favourable to the hypothesis of Sir H. Davy, respect-
ing the natural electricities of bodies, and also, when view-
ed in connexion with Erman's observation*, to afford an ad-
ditional proof of the identity of electricity and galvanism.
See/"/;;/. Trans, for 1814.

Dr WoUaston has constructed an apparatus, which he
calls an elementary galvanic battery, the object of which
is, to exhibit the most minute arrangement of electrical
substances, by which visible ignition can be produced. The
smallest that he has constructed consists of a thimble, with-
out its top, flattened until its sides were about one-fifth of
an inch asunder ; a small plate of zinc was then contrived
to be fixed within the thimble, but without touching it, and
a proper appendage of platina wires was added. The zinc
plate w^ less than three-fourths of an inch square, and
even when a very diluted acid was employed, a platina
wire of -jxjVtj of a'l inch in diameter was readily fused. See
Thomson's .Annals, vi. 309.

These experiments of Dr Wollaston's are the latest that
have been made on the subject of galvanism, and will bring
down the history of the science to the present period.

Part II. THEORY OF GALVANISM.

According to the plan wliich was laid down, we must
now proceed to give an account of the theories and hypo-
theses that have been formed to explain the phenomena of
galvanism. We have had occasion to allude to many of
these in the course of our historical sketch ; and the rea-
der will, in some degree, have anticipated our opinion re-
specting them. The subject divides itself into several
branches, partly corresponding with the progress of our
knowledge of the facts that were gradually developed, and
partly depending upon the supposed relation of galvanism
to the other departments of natural philosophy.

In this concise view of the science, we shall not think it
necessary to enter into the merits of the earlier specula-
tions, that have been superseded by later discoveries. Of
this nature is the original hypothesis of Galvani himself,
that the convulsions which he observed in the muscles of
frogs were produced by a new and peculiar agent, residing
in the body, to which he gave the name of Animal Elec-
tricity. Although thei'e are sonie few cases which seem
to militate against the supposition, it must, upon the whole,
be regarded as being decisively proved, that all the pheiio-
mena which we stile galvanic, depend merely upon the
action of electricity, modified by the manner in which it is
produced or excited.

Hence arises an interesting question, and one which lies
at the very foundation of all our future inquiries: How
does galvanism differ f]om common electricity ? This
question may refer both to the nature of the phenomena
themselves, and to the hieans employed for their produc-
tion. We may define galvanism, either by enumerating
the specific characteristics of those events which we class
together under this title ; or we may show how they have
all a reference to each other, from the similarity of the
processes that are employed for their developement. The
definition that we have given at the commencement of the
article, may he regarded as sufficiently correct and com-

prehensive, without exceeding the limits to which a defini-
tion ought to be restricted. It appears to include every
action of bodies upon each other, which is usually consi-
dered as belonging to this particular branch of natural
philosophy; while it excludes those that are, by common
consent, referred to a different department. It is, however,
in some cases, difficult to draw the exact line of distinction
between electricity and galvanism, and indeed we may
doubt, whether any precise distinction actually exists.
For, as it is conceived that they both depend upon the
same agent, having merely experienced some modifica-
tion in its nature, or mode of action, we must conclude,
that there may be some intermediate or indeterminate
state, which might be referred to one or the other with
almost equal piopriely.

To recur then to the former definition : " Galvanism is a
series of electrical phenomena, in which the electricity is
developed without the aid of friction, and where we per-
ceive a chemical action to take place between some of the
bodies employed." This definition may perhaps be thought
to limit the science too much, and to remove from it many
facts, which have always been regarded as galvanic. For
example, a great number of the original experiments of Gal-
vani himself, and his immediate contemporaries, where
contractions were excited in the muscles of animals, by the
application of the two metals, many of those of Fowler, and
the first set of Volta's experiments, would, according to
this definition, be reduced to the effects of common elec-
tricity. To this objection we may reply, that wherever
moisture comes in contact with the zinc, or more oxidable
metal, it is not improbable that some chemical action is
produced, but that it is very slight, and has therefore not
been noticed. If, however, upon a strict examination, it is
found not to be the case, and that there is actually no change
in the chemical condition of any part of the apparatus, it
must be admitted, that, according to our present ideas, the

GALVANISM.

559

phenomena arc not to be referred to galvanism. The first
unequivocal experiments where the chemical effects were
observed, and were connected with the electrical condition
of the substances, are those of Fabroni's ; and it was not
until Volta's discovery of the pile, that we were put in pos-
session of a method by which we were enabled to examine,
■with any degree of accuracy, the relation between tliese
two actions. Even if we find it necessary to conclude that
Galvani, although he had the good fortune to have his
name associated with a new department of science, did not
witness any of the facts to which we now apply the term,
the contradiction will be more apparent than real ; and we
must not permit the mere circumstance of names to influ-
ence our opinion respecting the essential nature of tlwigs.
The present slate of our knowledge seems, however, to
warrant the conjecture, that the action of the two inetals on
the parts of animals, is strictly galvanic,/, e. accompanied
by a cliemical action on tlie metals and tlie fluids, so as to
reduce it within the limits of the proposed definition.

Waving, however, the farther discussion of this point,
which indeed can only be decided by experiment, we must
recur to the question already stated, respecting the essen-
tial difference between galvanism and common electricity ;
and, conceiving it to be ascertained, that in the production
of the former, a chemical action takes place, which is not
necessary in the latter, we must next enquire, in what way
this chemical change of the substances imparts to the elec-
tricity that particular state or modification which we style
galvanic. With respect to the nature of this chemical
change, experimentalists are generally agreed ; as to the
metals, it consists in the oxidation of that metal which pos-
sesses the strongest attraction for oxygen ; and with re-
spect to the fluid interposed between the metals, it consists
in its decomposition, the oxygenous part being attracted to
the most oxidable metal, and the alkaline to that which is
the least oxidable. Although, as we liave already had oc-
casion to remark, there are various galvanic combinations,
into which only one metal enters, or even some entirely
without metals, yet, as the most powerful and complete cir-
cle is that which consists of two metals with a fluid inter-
posed, we shall confine our illustrations to this form of the
apparatus.

We may consider it as proved by a number of experi-
ments, which have been stated in the first part of this arti-
cle, that the electricity, as it is evolved by the different gal-
vanic combinations, always exists in what has been styled a
state of low intensity ; and that, to whatever extent we in-
crease the apparatus, and however powerfully it acts, still
the intensity is but little augmented. Unfortunately it is
still a doubtful point of theory, upon what the intensity
of electricity depends, or in what it precisely consists.
Some writers have ascribed it to a greater or less concen-
tration of the fluid; some to a difference in the velocity of
its motion, or in the strength of its affinity for the surround-
ing bodies ; and others to its containing a greater or less
portion of caloric. For the present, we must rest satisfied
with admitting the fact of the low intensity, as manifested
by the phenomena, without being able to explain its cause ;
and we may next proceed to enquire, whether there be any
circumstances in the different methods of exciting or pro-
ducing electricity, by the machine or the pile respectively,
which should cause the first to develope the fluid in a high-
er, and the latter in a lower state of intensity.

And here, it must be confessed, we have little to direct
our inquiries but conjecture and uncertain analogy. Of
these, however, as being our only guides, we must make
the best use that lies in our power. It is generally agreed,
that all bodies possess a certain quantity of electricity,
which is said to be natural to them, and which, while it

remains undisturbed, manifests no indications of its exist-
ence. There arc many processes which alter the state of
this natural electricity, by which it is extricated from one
body, and may be transferred to others in the neighbour-
hood. But this additional portion, being moie tlian their
natural share, seems to be retained by them with difficulty,
and is ready to fly off in all directions, in order to restore
the equilibrium. This may be considered as descriptive
of what occurs in the operation of the common electrical
machine, where, by the friction of the rubber against the
cylinder, a portion of the electric fluid is carried off from one
or both of them, and is transferred to the conductor. From
the conductor it may be communicated to a variety of other
bodies that are placed within the sphere of its influence;
but, in all these cases, it is retained by them for a certain
space of time only, and is continually passing off, more or
less rapidly, to all the surrounding bodies.

But besides this temporary transfer from one body to
another, without their undergoing any farther alteration,
they occasionally experience a more permanent cliange in
their electrical state, when, in consequence of their acquir-
ing different physical and chemical properties, their ca-
pacity for electricity is entirely altered. When their ca-
pacity is diminished, a more gradual, but more continued
discharge of the electric fluid takes place ; and in this ap-
pears to consist the essential action of the pile, as contrasted
with that of the machine. In the action of the machine, by
which the electric fluid is set at liberty, and transferred
from one body to another, no change appears to take place
in the substances employed, except the alteration in their
respective quantities of electricity. Their attraction for it
is neither increased nor diminished ; and, consec|uently, they
hiive a tendency, the one to lose, and the other to acquire,
the electricity which has been thus, as it were, forced into
the one, and out of the other. According to the nature of
the action by which the electricity is evolved, whether the
substances experience any permanent change in their ca-
pacity, or whether their equilibrium is merely disturbed in
a temporary manner, the state of the fluid appears to be
affected, so as to cause a difference in its intensity.

When we employ the machine, the electricity that we pro-
cure appears to be in a highly elastic state, its particles
strongly repulsive of each other, and at the same time not
disposed to enter into a permanent union with other bodies.
The galvanic electricity which we procure from the pile, is
more readily united to other bodies, and has a tendency to
form new combinations with them, which is so powerful as
to counteract some of the strongest chemical affinities. At
the same time, it exhibits less of what may be called me-
chanical action : its particles are less repulsive of each otlier ;
its motions appear less rapid ; it causes less commotion in
its passage from one body to another; and although its
ultimate effects arc more powerful, it seems to act with
less violence. The one may be compared to a small quan-
tity of an agent highly concentrated ; the other to a larger
quantity, but in a state of greater dilution. The phenome-
na of electricity, as excited by the common machine, depend
upon the attraction and repulsion of the electric fluid, and
its passage from one body to another; while the most im-
portant actions of galvanic electricity result from the chemi-
cal changes that it produces in the composition of bodies.
The excitation of common electricity is not necessarily at-
tended with any permanent alteration in the slate of the
substances that arc employed in producing it. It is usually
developed by the mechanical aid of friction, and the same
apparatus may continue to be employed for an indefinite
length of time. Friction, on the contrary, has no effect in
the production of galvanic electricity ; it requires a chemi-
cal change in some part of the apparatus ; and the indi-

560

GALVANISM.

vitlual parts which have been employed in generating it ac-
quire new properties, and arc incapable of any farther gal-
vanic action.

After these general observations, wliich, scanty and incon-
clusive as they arc, appear to be all that onr present know-
ledge upon the subject will warrant, we must proceed to
examine more minutely into the nature of the action that is
exercised by the galvanic apparatus. Fiom the remarks
that have been already made, it will be obvious, that in the
operation of the pile, there are both electrical and chemical
phenomena produced ; and it has lieen a point very warm;
ly contended, v/hich of these is the most essential, or rather
which of them is the primary effect, and, consequently, is to
be considered as the cause of the other, and of the whole
train of actions. Volta, and most of the continental philoso-
phers, support the electrical hypothesis ; while there are
several distinguished experimentalists in this country who
maintain, that the chemical action is the one which gives
I'ise to all the changes that are produced, and therefore con-
stitutes the primary action of the instrument.

In all the experiments that were pet formed with the two
metals, previous to the discovery of the pile, with the ex-
ception of those of Fabroni, which seem to have been but
little attended to, the only point in discussion was, whether
the effects were to be referred to the electric flui<l,or to a
new agent inherent in the animal body. Volta strenuously
adopted the opinion, that they depended simply upon com-
mon electricity, and accounted for them by supposing, that
the contact of the two metals had the power of altering the
quantity of electricity which was natural to them, adding a
portion of it to the one, and subtracting it from the other, re-
spectively. To this power he gave the litie of electro-mo-
tion ; and he spoke of it as a new property, whicii had not
been before noticed, and distinctly claimed to himself the
merit of its discovery. He conceived that he might in-
crease the power of the instrument, or rather concentrate
the effect of a number of separate pairs of metal, by in-
terpX)sing between each pair a conducting substance, which,
without altering the electric state of the metals, might in-
crease the effect, by transmitting it through a number of
successive stages. Whatever we may think of the hypo-
thesis, the experiment to which it gave rise was most for-
tunate ; for it led to the construction of the pile ; an appa-
ratus, by means of which ftie most curious and important
discoveries have been made in the different departments of
natural philosophy.

Altnough Volta completed the discovery of the pile, and
fully ascertained its action on the animal body, yet it is not
a little remarkable, that he limited his inquiries to this ob-
ject, and seems to have been totally ignorant of the farther
powers of the instrument of which he was possessed. This
circumstance must appear the more remarkable, when we
recollect that upon the very first employment of it by Messrs
Nicholson and Carlisle, they perceived its chemical action,
and became aware of its importance as an agent in the de-
composition of bodies. Cruickshanks, Davy, Wollaston,
Henry, and the other English philosophers, farther deve-
loped its powers in this respect, which had so completely
escaped the notice of Volta, and they were consequently
Jed to form a different idea of the mode of its operation.
Dr ^Voilaslon seems to have been the first who decidedly
adopted the opinion, that the chemical action of the pile is
the primary origin of all tiie changes wliichit cxperieiKes,
and is the cause of the elccti ical effects ; and the same idea
was cn-.braced by Sir H. Davy, although he has since aban-
doned it for the liypothesis of electric energies.

We must now proceed to examine the two leading theo-
ries of the galvanic action, as exhibited in the pile, with
Ttiore minuteness ; and we shall begin with that of Voita's,

or the one which supposes a change in the electrical coj»-
dition of the metals to be the primary cause of its operation.
This philosopher has given a statement of l)is opini'jns on
the subject, in several letters which he wrote to his friends,
and which have been pulilished in different scientific jour-
nals. His first communication was in a letter to Cavallo;
the second to Gren, {Plnl. Trans. 1793; Ann. de Chim.
xxiii. 276.): both written before his discover) oi the pile.
His original account of this apparatus is contained in a let-
ter to Sir Joseph lianks, in which he explains his ideas re-
specting its action ; and he afterwards farther developed
them in letters to Delametherie and to Van Marum, [^Phil.
Trails. 18U0; Nicholson's Journal. 8vo, i. 135; Ann. de
Chim. xl. 225.) In some of these papers, Volta details his
hypothesis at considerable length ; yet, alter an attentive
cxanunation of them, it appears to us that they are not al-
together consistent with each other ; and that, without any
intimation of the circumstance, he has, in fact, given to the
world two distinct hypotlieses.

The letter written to Cavallo, of which we have already
given some accoimt, is Voita's iirst essay on the subject of
galvanism, and contains an account of Galvani's original
discovery, and of the additional experiments which he had
himself performed by the combination of the two metals.
He accounts for all the facts on the principle, that when
metals are placed in certaiii circumstances with respect to
each other, there is " a destruction of the equilibrium of the
electricity. This action is stated to consist essentially in
two metals, when placed in contact, giving the one to the
other a portion ol its natural electricity, so that the one be-
comes positive and the other negative. Some combinations
of metals possess this electro-motive faculty much more
powerfully than others; those that Galvani and Volta origi-
nally employed, were zinc and silver ; and in this case the
zinc acquired the electricity and became positive, while
the silver lost electricity or became negative. In this
paper no other principle is referred to, and the action is
not spoken of as belonging to any class of bodies except the
the metals. Volta speaks of the principle as a new law of
electricity, which had not been before noticed, and decided-
ly claims to himself the discovery of it.

In the letter to Delametherie, written after the discovery
of the pile, Volta still farther dcvelopes his hypothesis, but
without altering the ground on which it rests. He describes
each pair of metals as the efficient part ol the apparatus,
and speaks of the fluid that is interposed between them, as
merely carrying the electricity from one pair to another,
without producing any change in it. In his letter to Van
Marum, he relates the following fundamental experiment,
as it is called: A plate of copper and a plate of zinc are
placed in contact with each other, but so that a part of each
plate projects beyond the other; and he finds, that of the
parts which thus project, one becomes positive and the
other negative. So far all these opinions appear to be con-
sistent with each other; but in the letter written to Gren,
an idea is brought forward, which is not noticed in the
other essays, and which seems to be essentially different
from them. All conductors of electricity are divided into
two classes, the dry and the moist ; and electricity is sup-
posed to be always excited, when two conductors of either
of these classes are placed in contact with one conductor
of the other class. In this way one metal only would ap-
pear to be sufficient for a galvanic combination, provided
there be two moist conductors in contact w ith it. How the
fluids act in this case, or what relation they bear to each
other and to the metal, we are not exactly informed ; but we
may conclude, that it is not from any cliemical ojieration,
because in the letter to Delametherie, written four years
after that to Gren, it is expressly said, that the fluids have

GALVAT^ISiM.

561

no cflect but in transreninij the cleclricily from one metal
to another.

Upon the whole \vc may conclude, that Volta conceives
the electricity to be excited by the metals producing a de-
gree of electro-motion, or by destroying the natural etjuili-
brium oT the electricity ; one metal lluis becoming positive
and tlie other negative, they each of them exiiibit signs of
electricity to an electrometer or other similar instrument.
The only use of the fluid is to transfer the electricity whicli
is excited by one pair of metals to the next pair; and al-
though a chemical action may take place between the fluid
and the metal, this action is merely incidental, and is not
essential to the production of the galvanic efi'ccts.

The objections to V^olta's hypothesis are very forcible ;
in the fiist place, it does not appear that the chemical ef-
fects of the pile are, as he supposes, merely incidental.
They seem, indeed, absolutely essential to its action, for
when perfectly pure water is interposed between the me-
tals, or when the apparatus is placed in any situation, where
it is excluded from obtaining a supply of oxygen, it ceases
to act. The same thing happens when the acid, or other
oxidating fluid, is all expended ; and in short, it may be
stated, that whatever promotes the action of the fluid upon
one of the metals, increases the energy of the instrument,
and whatever tends to prevent or destroy this action sus-
pends the energy. It has been urged as an objection to
Volta's hypothesis, that it does not provide for any absolute
increase of electric power. The two metals, by their con-
tact, become one positive and the other negative, and this
is equally the case with each pair ; but the fluid that is in-
terposed between the metals is conceived to restore the
equilibrium of the electricity, which has been disturbed by
the metals. This is the whole elTcct of the apparatus, and
we are not informed how any electricity can be actually
produced or generated, as it would appear that the nature
of the instrument is to cause an electric action in one part,
which must be immediately counteracted by another part.
Whatever deficiency of electricity there was in any copper-
plate would be instantly supplied by the water communi-
cating the superabundant electricity of the opposite zinc
plate, so that the eH"ect of the whole would be reduced sim-
ply to the difference between the two extreme plates of
copper and zinc. A third, and perhaps a still stronger ar-
gument against the electric hypothesis, is, that the funda-
mental position on which it rests, is itself objectionable.
Volta supposes that two metals, as for example, a plate of
zinc and one of copper, when placed in extensive contact
with each other, may become respectively positive and ne-
gative. This he endeavours to prove by direct experiment ;
but it will be found that in none of the cases is the experi-
ment precisely in point. lie adduces some facts, where
metals were found respectively positive and negative, that
had been in contact, but were afterwards separated : in one
of his experiments the rnetals never actually touched, but
were connected by a moist conductor, and in the experi-
ment which we have related above, it was only the project-
ing parts of the plates that could be made to exhibit the
opposite electric states. And here we may be allowed to
entertain some doubt respecting the accuracy of the fact;
it is evidently an experiment of a most delicate nature, and
Mr Cuthbertson, who attempted to repeat it, obtained lesults
contrary to those staled by Volta. (Nicholson's Joiirn. 8vo.
ii. 281.) In the experiments of Bennet and Cavallo, where
electricity was induced upon metallic bodies by contact, it
is to be observed, that they were no longer in contact when
they manifested signs of electricity, and it appears not easy
to conceive how two metals can be in extensive contact,
■without communicating their electricity to each other, so
as to acquire precisely the same state. The experiments

Vol. IX. Pabt II.

of Dg Luc, on the dissection of the pile, seem to be strong-
ly adi'cise to the electric hypothesis. In the second dis-
tribution of the ternaiy groups, the two metals are in ton-
tacl, and therefore any electrical efl'cct might be produced,
which would arise from this circumstance; there was also
the fluid between them, which would serve as a conductor
of electricity, yet, because the apparatus was so arranged
that this fluid could not act upon the zinc and oxidate it, no
I)roper galvanic eirect ensued.

As we have already remarked, Dr V/ollaston was the
first who decidedly pronounced the chemical action of the
pile to be the piiinary cause of its effects; but in establisli-
ing this iKjint, he did not proceed to explain the nature of
the operation, or show what was the train of events which
contributed to the final result. This was attempted by Mr
Cuthbertson, who, in the essay to which we referred above,
alter pointing o\it the inaccuracy of the experiments that
were brouglit forward by Volta in favour of the electric
hypothesis, offers some observations in suppoit of the con-
trary opinion. He conceives that the chemical action of
the interposed fluid upon the zinc, alters the electric pro-
perties of the metal, and disposes it to part with electricity;
that this evolved electricity cannot enter into the remainder
ol the zinc which has not been acted upon, because it re-
tains its former electric state, but that it is " propelled for-
wards from the zinc, through the menstruum, to the next
adjoining copper in the pile or trough." This effect, how-
ever, can only happen in a progressive manner, because
the fluid is but an imperfect conductor; and to this he as-
cribes many of the peculiar phenomena of the apparatus.
Dr Henry, in a judicious essay " 0« the Theories of the
Exeitenient of Galvanic Electricity" {^Manchester Mem. ii.
293, 2d Series), observes, that " the explanation of Mr
Cuthbertson is unequivocally a valuable supplement to the
theory of Volta, inasmuch as it takes into account the efla-
cieney of chemical menstrua." But, as he farther remarks,
it is defective, because it cloes not explain why •' the ac-
tion of the menstruum is chiefly, if not entirely, exerted in
oxidizing and dissolving the zinc plates,'and why the evo-
lution of hydrogen gas, or of nitrous gas, occurs chiefly at
the copper surface." This deficiency was attempted to be
supplied by Dr Bostock, who, about the same time, pub-
lished an essay on the action of the galvanic pile, which he
has since considerably extended and modified in such a
manner, as to accord witli the recent discoveries. (Nich.
Journ. iii. 8vo. 9. and 69. Thomson's Annals., m.o2.) — He
proceeds upon the principle which was laid down by Dr
Wollaston, that electricity is evolved by the oxidation of
metals; and generalizes it so far as to conclude, that the
electric fluid is always liberated when an oxidable sub-
stance is united to oxygen. In addition to this principle,
he proposes to admit the two following postulates, that the
electric fluid has a strong attraction for hydrogen, and that
when in passing through a chain of conductors, it leaves
the oxidable substance to be conveyed through water, it
combines with the hydrogen, and is again disengaged from
it, whenever it again enters into an oxidable substance. We
shall quote the account which Dr Henry gives of this hy-
pothesis, as it appears to afford a correct, and at the same
time a concise view of it.

" To the efficiency of the pile, two circumstances are es-
sential ; that the electric fluid should be disengaged, and
that it be confined and carried forward in one direction, so
as to be concentrated at the end of the apparatus. (Plate
CCLXIII. Fig. 21.) The first object is fulfilled by the
oxidizement of the zinc; the second, as Dr Bostock sup-
poses, is effected by the union of the evolved electricity
with nascent hydrogen, and by the attraction of tne next
copperplate for electricity. At the surface of this plate,
4B

562

G/VLYANISM.

tlie liydiogen and electTicity aie supposed to separate ; the
hydroijcn to be diseiigacjcd in t!ic state of gas, and the
electricity to be conveyed onwarcls to the next zinc plate.
Here, being in some degree accumulated, it is extricated
in larger quantity, and in a more concentrated furni, than
before. 15y a repetition of the same tiain of oiierations,
the electric lluid conliniies to atcnmulate in each siicccs-
.sive pair; until, by a sufficient extension of tlic arrange-
ment, it mav be made to exist at the zinc end of the pile,
in any assignable degree of force." For a farther account
of this hypothesis, we must refer our readers to the origi-
nal essay, and more especially to tliat part of it where the
author explains the action of the interiupted circuit in llie
tlecomposiiion of water, and the evolution of the gases at
the extremities of the two wires: (Thomson's Ann. iii. 88.)
It must be admitted tliat it salisfactoiily explains the phe-
nomena, and tliat it accords with all the facts that have hi-
tlierto been discovered, but it labours under the great ob-
(cction of being founded upon a gratuitous supposition, of
which there is no pioof, except the facility with which it
explains the appearances.

We think that part of the difficulty which has occurred
in forming a theory of the pile, has arisen from our not
clearly discriminating between its efi'ects in exciting com-
jTion electricity, and that modification of it which is called
galvanism. We have endeavoured to point out in what
respect these two actions differ from each other; and, im-
perfect as our knowledge is concerning the cause, we con-
ceive that there is an obvious difference in tlie effect.
Now, it appears to us, that the pile, as it is usually con-
btructcd, is both an electrical and a galvanic instrument ;
and that when v/e attempt to form a theory of its action,
we have two distinct sets of phenomena to explain. The
power of producing muscular contraction is an electrical
effect, that of decomposing chemical bodies a galvanic ef-
fect; while that of burning metallic leaves, or igniting
wires, probably partakes of b9th these actions. That the
electric and galvanic effects of the pile bear no proportion
!o each other, that one may exist in a great degree while
the other is scarcely apparent, is rendered evident from the
experiments of Mr Singer. In examining the power of
different kinds of fluids interposed between the plates, he
observed, that although some of the effects were rendered
more powerful by employing a solution of salt, yet tlie
electrometer was not more affected than with simple wa-
ter. He even asserts, that in many trials on a very exten-
.sive scale, for example, with 1000 pairs of metals, he has
" found the electrical effects greatest when the chemical
effects have been least. He relates other facts of a simi-
lar kind, which appear to place this matter beyond all
doubt, and to establish a decisive difference between these
two operations of the instrument. See Singer's EUm. p.
330.

M. De Luc's experiments confirm and illustrate this
view of the subject; for they not only shew this want of
proportion between the two effects, but they enable us to
separate them from each other. In his second dissection
of the pile, we have a powerful electrical instrument, but
one which does not produce galvanic effects; and the same
rnay be said of his electric column, which exliibits none of
the phenomena that we exclusively refer to galvanism. On
the contrary, some of those combinations which have been
made by Mr Children, and other experimentalists, where
a few large plates were employed, and where a diluted acid
was interposed between them, may be considered as pre-
cisely the reverse of De Luc's column. Here very slight
marks of common electricity were manifested, while the
most powerful galvanic effects were produced.
Our general conclusion on the subject is, that part of the

effects, usually proceeding from the pile, are purely clsc-
trical, iind do not, in any degree, depend iijjon a chtinical
change in the state of the metals. We coiiceive ii to be a
doubilul point in what way this electrical action is induced,
because, for liie reasons which we have already given, we
do not think that the experiments of Volta, and the others
thai have been supposecl to coincide with them, are appli-
cable to the slate of tilings as they exist in the pile ; nor do
we think tliat if we were to adniit them, they would account
for the continued evolution of fresh poitions of electricity ;
or that they v, onld exjilain, why the disturbance of the elec-
tric lluid, oi the electro-motion, as it is stiled, is not coun-
teracted by tlie conductors that are connected with the me-
tals. As to the proper galvanic effects of the jiile, we con-
sider them to be always immediately caused by the chemi-
cal action of the fluid u])on the metals; and that, in ])ropoi-
tion to llie extent of this action, as depending upon the
quantity of surface exposed, or the nature of the fluid em-
ployed, we obtain the evolution of electricity in greater or
less quantity, and in a more or less intense state. Our
readers will perceive, from these observations, that we arc,
upon the whole, advocates for the chemical hypothesis;
but at the same time that we attach ourselves to this doc-
trine, we do it with the restriction already referred to. If
we conceive that the proper galvanic phenomena depend
upon the chemical changes, we also adniit, that there arc
electrical effects produced by the pile, independent of tlic
others, and unconnected with them.

Tiie great dibcoveries that have been made by Sir II.
Davy, in his application of galvanism to chemical decom-
position, and the importance which must attach to all his
opinions upon the subject, induce us to inquire, what view he
takes of the question tiiat we have now been discussing. We
have already related the experiments which he ]jerformed
on the chemical action of the Jiile; and it appears that hJ
formerly considered it as the ])rimary cause of the pheno-
mena. This opinion, however, he afterwards retracted,
and adopted an hypothesis which he conceived might re-
concile the doctrine of \'^olta with the experiments of the
English chemists. He supposes, that both electrical and
chemical actions are necessarily concerned in the produc-
tion of the effect; that the former ate the first in order of
time, and that their tendency is to disturb the electric equi-
librium of the different parts of the apparatus, while ihe
chemical changes operate in restoring this equilibrium.
In the farther detail of the hypothesis we shall employ the
author's own words. " In the voltaic pile of zinc, copper,
and solution of muriate of soda, in what has been called its
condition of electrical tension, the communicating plates
of copper and zinc are in opposite electrical states. And
with regard to electricities of such very low intensity, water
is an insulating body ; every copper plate, consequently,
produces by induction an increace of positive electricity
upon the opposite zinc plate, and every zinc plate an in-
crease of negative electricity on the opposite copper plate;
and the intensity increases with the number, and the quan-
tity with the extent of the series."

" When a communication is made between the two ex-
treme points, the opposite electricities tend to annihilate
each other; and if the fluid medium could be a substance
incapable of decomposition, the equilibrium, there is eve-
ry reason to believe, would be restored, and the motion of
the electricity cease. But solution of muriate of soda be-
ing composed of two series of elements, possessing oppo-
site electrical energies, the oxygen and acid are attracted
by the zinc, and the hydrogen and alkali by the copper.
The balance of power is momentary only ; for solution of
zinc is formed, and the hydrogen is disengaged. The ne-
gative energy of the copper, and the positive energy of the

GALYANISIVf.

563

zinc, are consequently again exerted, enfeebled only liy llic
opposing energy of the soda in contact with the copper ;
and the process of clectro-niotion continues, as lonp; as the
chemical changes are capable of being carried on." See
Fhil. Trans, for 1807, vol. xlv.

This hypothesis agrees with that of Volta, in asciibing
the train of actions to the electric condition of the metals,
yet it diiVcrs from it in many essential points. It supposes
the chemical decomposition of the interposed fluid to be a
necessaiy although not the first step in the process. The
conducting power of the lluid is, in both cases, taken into
account, yet it is regarded in an opposite point of view.
According to Volta, the better is the conducting lluid, the
more energetic is the action of the pile ; while the hypo-
thesis of Sir II. Davy seems to require the fluid to possess
almost a non-conducting property.

Some of the late speculations of this illustrious chemist
have led him to deviate still farther from ordinary hypothe-
sis, not only as it respects galvanism, but electricity in
general. Those efl'ects, which were formerly attributed
to a material agent, capable of being added to, or subtract-
ed from a body, at pleasure, are now conceived, like gra-
vitation, to be inherent qualities of matter. To these, which
are called electric energies, all chemical decompositions
are to be ultimately referred ; for it is supposed, that che-
mical attraction, in all cases, results from the circum-
stance of two bodies, possessing opposite electric energies,
and consequently having a strong tendency to unite. By
means of the galvanic combinations, wc have it in our pow-
er to excite the electric state of a body to an indefinite de-
gree, and to induce an electricity contrary to that which is
jiatural to it. But the farther consideration of the merits of
this theory, belong rather to electricity than to galvanism
strictly so called. To whatever cause we ascribe the elec-
tric state of bodies, whether to a material agent distributed
through them in different quantities, or to some afiec-
lion of their primary qualities, the states of positive and
negative electricity actually exist, and our present busi-
ness is merely to inquire, what relation they bear to the
phenomena of the galvanic pile.

M. De Luc advances an argument, which he conceives
to be quite decisive, against the hypothesis of the natural
electric energies of bodies producing the phenomena of the
pile, that the whole instrument may he rendered cither po-
sitive or negative, by connecting it with the conductor or
rubber of the electrical machine; and yet its operation is
jiot in any degree aflected. He also contrived an appara-
tus, in which there were three wires placed between the
extremities of the pile, two of them connected with the
ends of the pile, and the third in the centre; the wires hav-
ing water interposed between them, and elcctrommers so
situated, as to ascertain the electric condition of the wires.
In the ordinary state of the apparatus, the terminating wires
were one positive and the other negative, corresponding to
the ends of the pile to which they were attached, while the
central wire was neutral ; yet the ends of this neutral wire
produced opposite electrical effects, one separating oxygen,
and the other hydrogen. By altering the apparatus, the
electrical state of the wires were altered ; the central wire
was rendered at one time positive, and afterwards negative,
and the state of the terminating wires was reversed ; yet
iJio change took place in the chemical action of the wires,
each of them continuing to evolve oxygen and hydrogen as
at first, and the two ends of the central wire separating oxy-
gen and hydrogen respectively at its extremities, in the
same manner, whether the wire itself was positive, nega-
tive, or neutral. See Nicholson's ^oKra. xxvi.

Mr Singer has proposed an objection to Sir H. Davy's
hypothesis, very similar tc> this of M. De Luc's, If a num-

ber of metallic wires arc placed in a line, with their ex-
tremities immersed in a fluid, and the whole connected
with the pile, each wire will evolve oxygen at one end,
and hydrogen at the other. (Plate CCLXIII. Fig. 22.)
Now, he conceives it impossible that every wire can have
an opposite electricity at its two extremities, when it is sur-
rounded by a conducting fluid ; for no metallic body can
be nuule polar, i. c. one end |)Ositive and the other negative,
but by the temporary disturbance of the equilib.ium of its
natural electricity ; an event which can only happen when
tliey are separated by a non-conducting substance. But he
observes, " No one can maintain, that water, or any saline
fluid or acid mixture, is a non-conductor, either of the che-
mical or electrical efl'ects of the voltaic apparatus ; yet the
usual chemical changes produced by voltaic electricity oc-
cur at every interruption of the metallic circuit in such
fluids." See Singer's lilcm. p. 376.

There appears to us to be considerable weight in these
objections ; and we confess, that the ideas of Sir H. Davy
produce a shock to our usual associations on the subject
of electricity, which it is not easy to overcome. However,
as we have already remarked, it would be foreign to the
object of this article to pursue the discussion any farther ;
nor do we conceive, that we are at present in possession
of sufhcient facts to warrant us in coming to any definite
conclusion respecting it.

We shall here conclude our account of the theory of
galvanism. Our readers will perceive, that much discor-
dance of opinion still exists upon the subject, and that some
strong objections attach to every hypothesis which has yet
been proposed. The most important points to ascertain
are, the difference between electricity, as excited by the
friction of the common machine, and that modification of
it which is strictly called galvanism. For this purpose,
the nature of electric intensity should be farther investi-
gated ; for it would appear, that if we were able to attacli
a more precise idea to this term, a considerable insight
would be gained into tl-.c cause of this difference. Experi-
ments somewhat similar to those of RI. De Luc should be
prosecuted, in which the electrical and chemical effects of
the pile are separated from each other, and a more accu-
rate measure of the proper galvanic power should, if pos-
sible, be obtained, than any of which we are now possessed.
The conducting power of the fluids concerned in the gal-
vanic apparatus should be carefully examined, and the re-
lation of their chemical action to their conducting power
should be ascertained. But it is unnecessary for us to en-
large upon these topics : the rapid succession of discoveries
which have been made in this department of science, and
the very general attention which it has obtained from the
first philosophers of the age, afford every reason to expect,
that the farther investigation of it will be followed by no
less success, than that which has hitherto attended its pro-
gress.

Descrifition of the Figures in Plate CCLXIII.

Fig. 1. The galvanic pile, as originally constructed by
Volta, where the letters C, Z, and F, denote the plates of
copper and zinc, and the pieces of cloth or paste-board
soaked in fluid. (Plate CCLXIII.) The pile has four
rods placed round it, to keep it in the perpendicular direc-
tion. The lower end was called the co/j/zc;-, and the upper
the zinc end.

Fig. 2. When the number of plates is very considera-
ble, Volta divides it into two or more parts, each being
connected by slips of metal. In this case, it is essential
that the same order of paris be observed from one end to
4 B 2

564

GALVANISM.

the other, up Ihc first pile, down the secoinl, up the third,
and, lastly, down the fourth.

Fig. 3. This was a roodificalion of the galvanic appara-
tus tiu.l was formed by Volta, which lie called coumvie clca
rasses, where the zinc plate Z and cojjpcr plates C arc not
in contact, but are connected by metallic rods, and then im-
jncrsed in a fluid.

Fig. 4. represents the trough apparatus invented by Mr
Cruickshanks; the plates of zinc and copper are soldered
together, and are then cemented into a wooden frame,
leaving intervals between the double plates, to receive the
fluid which is intended to act upon the zinc. It is provided
■with wires at each end, which are in opposite states of
electricity, and may be applied to any substance which it is
proposed to subject to its influence.

Fig. 5. represents the battery of Mr Children, which is
a combination of the couronne cles lasses of Volta and the
trough of Cruickshanks. The plates are not in contact,
but each pair is connected by slips of metal, and the whole
is attached to a beam, so as to be lifted out of the cells at
pleasure. The trough and partitions may be formed of
either wood or earthen ware, and contain the fluid that is
to act on the zinc plates.

Fig. 6. is the apparatus for receiving in separate ves.
sels the gases which are evolved by the action of galvan-
ism upon water. The two small jars have metallic wires
inserted at their upper end, one of which is connected with
the positive, and the other with the negative extremity of
the pile. They are filled with water, and inverted in the
same fluid ; and the ends of the wires are so situated, that
tlie gas disengaged from them rises to the top of the jar.

Fig. 7. represents the apparatus in which the gases dis-
engaged from water may be reconverted into water by the
electric spark.

Fig. 8. are the agate cups, connected by amianthus, em-
ployed by Sir H. Davy in the decomposition of water ; and
Fig. 9. are the gold cones employed in the same set of ex-
periments.

Fig. 10. represents the apparatus which Sir H. Davy
employed for the decomposition of salts, and the transfer
of their constituents. In Fig. 11. we have the combination
of three vessels, in which the transfer is exhibited in a
more striking manner.

Fig. 12. represents the apparatus for taking the galva-
nic spark in gases : it consists of a graduated glass tube,
into which two wires are introduced, the one which en-
ters at the side being moveable, and capable of being ap-
proached to the- other; according to circumstances, they
may be tipped with pieces of charcoal, or the wire may be
bare.

Fig. 13. is a variation in the form, which may be em-
ployed over mercury. These instruments were invented
by Sir H. Davy.

Figs. 15, 16, 1", 18. The dissected pile employed by I)c
Luc, to illustrate the mode of its action. The shaded part
represents the moistened cloths, and the letters C and Z
the copper and zinc plates respectively. In Fig. 15. the
pile is continuous, in. its usual form; Fig. 16 is the first
dissection. Fig. 17. the second, and Fig. 18. the third.
F'ig. 14. is one of the wire stands that are interposed be-
tween the plates.

Fig. 19. represents the apparatus of M. Dc Luc: it con-
sists of two piles connected by a metallic rod at the bottom ;
between the ui)pcr ends is interposed the interrupted wires
terminating in water, and to each extremity one of Bennct's
electrometers is applied.

Fig. 20. represents the lower limbs of a frog, lying on a
plate of metal, while another kind of metal is placed in
contact with the spinal marrow ;" these two metals are then
connected by a conducting body, and the muscles of the
legs are thrown into convulsions.

Fig. 21. is Dr. Bostock's numerical illustration of the
effect of the pile ; the letters point out the nature of the
sul)stanccs, and the figures indicate the increase of power
which the electricity acquires by passing along the instru-
ment. See Thomson's \4nnals, iii. 8 5.

F'ig. 22. is an experiment of Mr Singer's, which is sup-
posed to disprove the hypothesis of electric energies. In
this apparatus, each wire will have its ends in the oppo-
site states of electricity, one positive and the other nega-
tive.

Besides the references that we have made in the course
of the article, the following works and papers deserve
to be noticed, either as presenting an interesting view of
the gradual progress of the science, or as containing an
abstract of the hypotheses that have prevailed at different
times.

PfafT's Dissertation on Animal Electricity, 1793.

Monro On Animal Electricity, 1793.

Cavallo On Electricity, vol. iii. 1795.

Halle's report to the French Institute, Journ. P/iys. t.
47. 1798.

Cuvier's report, Journ. Phys. 52. 1801.

Hachette's report, Journ. Polyteclniique, 4. 1801.

Report to the French Institute, Ann. de Cliim. 41. 1802.

Reports made by Delamatherie in several volumes of
his Journ. 41, 46, 48, 50.

Sue's History oj" Galvanism, 1803.

Cuthbertson's Practical Electricity, 1807.

Carpue's Introduction to Electricity and Galvanism,
1807.

Conversations on Chemistry, 5th conversation.

Some good remarks on galvanism occur in Thomson's
History of the Royal Society, in Murray's System, and in
his Elements of Chemistry. («)

GALVANISM.

56 5

INDEX.

\ck1 ail alkali produced by galvanism,

pa go .'•47
AlUiiiiN experiments on muictilar con-
traction, 550. Prtnluces contract, ons
witliout meials, il». Believes in animal
electricity, ib.
AlkHlli's, fi'i^d, iIccompoMtion ot 553
Ammonia, aticmpts to decompose it, 555
Gay-Lu*Nac and Tlunard's expe-
riments on, 555
Animal arc. remarks on. 546

electricity, galvanism so named,

545
electrieity, modificntiun of com-
mon elcciricity, 54*>
pile formed l>y Lagrave, 550
Arborization of metals, experiments on,
by Oroiihus, 55Z

Battcr>'. gahanic. 547. Elementary do.

by Wollaston.558
Ber/tlius's experiments on the decompo-
sition of bodies, 55i
Biutand Cuvier found th:it the pile deox-
idates the air, 549.
's observations on the size of the

plates, ib,
observations on lite theory of gal-
vanism, 551
Bostock's observations on the aoti<m of the

pde, 561
Branded obsen*ations on positive and ne-
gative bodies, 553
Bucholt7.'i obscrva'.ions on metallic ox-
ides, 55^

Chemical affinity influenced by electricity,

55A

effects of galvanism first noticed

by Fabroni. 546
hypothesis of the pile. 562
C'ncand's experiments on hbrine, 561
Charcoal employed to form a pile, 548
Children's battery, 557. Experiments, ib.
Criiicksliank'sex|ieriments. 547,548
Cuthbertson's observations on the action of
the pile, 561

Davy disengages gases from separate por-
tions of water, 54?. Forms new galva-
nic combinations, ib. On (he action ot
galvanism upon water, 548, 553. On the
decomposition of salts, 553. On the de-
composition of alknlies and earths, ib.
Hj^pothesis of the pile, 557

Definition of galvanism, 543, 559

DalamatlH-iie on ilie contraction of fi-
brine, 550

Dc I. lie's exjierimrnts on (he pile. 55ii. On
the dii'i-eliori of the current, ib. On the
Mate of the eMtremifies, ib. Hypollieiis
of its action, 557. On piles of dif-
ferent materiaU, ib. Objections (o the
hjpolhesis of electric energies, 564.

Earths, decomposition of, 555.
Electric column discovered by De Luc,
557
energies, whut, 562. De Luc and

Singer's objections, 563
intensity, in wliat it consists, 559
EhPtrical sfite of hudies affects their

chemieal aftiniiy, 554.
Electricity of ilic" machine and pile com-

l)ared, 559
Erman's remarks on Ihe ends of the pile,

550

remark'- on the conducting power

of bodies, 552
Extremities of the pile, gases disengaged

by, 547
of the pile, remarks on their

names, 556

Fabroni observes the diemical action of
the metals. 546. Expeiiments on me-
tals in contact, ib. Observations on tlie
sensations, ib.

Fibrine made to contract, 550

F(iuvci-oy discovers the effect of large
pbtr-s. 549.

Fowler's experiments, 544. Thinks gal-
vanism not electrical, ib. Observatmns
on vo!untai7 and involuntary muscles,
ib. Discovers the flash, ib.

Frog, a delicate electrometer, 544

Galvani's discoverj', 544. Hypothesis, 55S.
Galvanic and common electricity com-
pared, 559.
electricity of low intensity. 559
pile, discovery of, 546. Davy's
observations on, 554. De Luc's
observ-.tions on. 556. Hitter's
experiments on, 551. Theory
of. 562
Galvanism, discovery of, 544. Modiiica-

tion of electricity. 559
Galvanometer, Pepy's, 550
Gauiberot on attraction by the pile, 550
Gay-Lnssac's experiments, 555
Grntthus on the arborization of metals,
553.

Guyfonnn metallic oxidci, 553
11

H:ildane"s experinients, 548

Henry deconipo^cs acids and ammonia,

548. Observation* on the pile. 5'i2
Hisinger'sexiierimeiits on the deCompOM-

tioii of botlies, 552
Humboldt's experiments, 540

Institute of France, their report, 545
Intensity of the galvanic pile, 550

of the galvanic pile, Biot's re-
marks on, 549
Iridium melted, 558

Lagrave*s animal pile, 551

Lebot on the galvanic current, 5 19

Leydeu phial charged by galvanism, 549

Medicine, galvanism employed in. 551
Metallic leaves burnt bj' galvanism, 540

solutions revived by galvanism,
549
Metals, combination! of, produce galvan*

ism. 544.
Muriatic acid said to be generated, 552

Nerves, expeiiments on, by the French In-
stitute, 545
Nicholson and Carlisle discover the che-
mical effects of the pile, 547
's observations on the size of the
plates, 547

Osmium melted, 558

Oxides, metallic, observations on, by Guy-
ion and Bntholtz, 55 ^
Oxygen necessary to the action of the pile,

543

Pacchioni and Peele's experiments, 552

Pepys's galvanometer, 550

Pile, galvanic, discovery of, 546. Describ-
ed, ib. Ritter's experiments,
55'. Theory of, 562
of Ritter, 551

Plates, size of, Nicholson's observations,
547. FourCroy''s.549. Biot's, ib.

Potassium formed, 554

Priestley's observations on the pile, 550

Ritier'iii •JiijconnectWm between galvan-
ism and m igiieiism, 550. >ormB the sc-
condaiy pile, 551. Exjiehnicnts on the
g.'ilvanic pile.ib.

Kobihon^ experiments on the icnsations,
545

Salts, experiments on, by Crtiicltshank's
547. Decomposed by Davy, 553

Shock produced by the pile, 547. Gay-
Lussae's observations on, 555. De Luc'i,

557
Singer's experiments, 5'".2. Objectioiu to

Davy's hyp«the^il, 564
Soap, Erman's exjieriments on, 553
Soda ^vipi^osed to be generated, 552
Sodium formed. 554
Spnik, gnlvanic, produced. 5 J4
Sultzn-'s observations on the tattle, 545
Sylvester's expLriments, 562

'I henard's experiments "n galvanism. 555
Trommsdoi^ff burns metallic leaves, 549
Trough apparatus, 548

U
Unipolar bodies, Erman's remarks on, 553

Valli's experiments and hypothesi**. 5i4

Van Marum compares electricity and gal-
vanism, 549

Vassali's experiments on the human body,
550

Volia ascertained thnt galvanjsm depends
upon electricity. 545. Acts through the
nerves. ib. Co lUl not produce contrac-
tions in the involuntary muscles, ib.
Discovers the pie, 546. Thinks it ana-
logous to the torperlo, ib. Defends thf*.
electric hypothesis, ib. Did not notice
the chemical action of the pile. ib. His
hypothesis irxamined, 561. Objections
to hislivpothesis. il>.

Voltaic pile. See Galvanic Pile..

Water decomposed by galvanism. 547
Wells's experiments, 545. Observations on

Volfa's hypoth'-sis, ib.
Wollaston's experiments on the chemical

action of the pile, 543. Elementary

battery, 557

GALiWAY, a marilime county of Ireland, in the pro-
vince of Connaiight. It is bounded on the north by Alayo
and Roscommon; on the east by Tipperary and King's
County; on the south by Clare; and on the west by the
Atlantic ocean. Its aspect is various, some parts of it be-
ing almost in a state of nature, and other parts of it fertile
and cultivated. The western district is rocky and moun-
tainous; tlie eastern district is flat, with the exception of
some low mountains on the borders of Clare. The soil
here is warm and fertile, and capable of considerable im-
provement. The substratum being limestone, the verdure
is almost every where exceedingly luxuriant. The best
land in the county is situated between Mount Talbot and
Portumna, and along by Ballyroan and Kilconneltenagh.
That wiiich stands next in quality, extends from Athenry
to the town of Galway. It is not arable on account of its
rocky nature, but produces excellent pasturage for sheep.
The third division in point of quality, lies in the neigh-
bourhood of Monadee, affording very coarse grass, mixed
with heath. The fourth comprehends Conamara and
Joyce's land, and is quite destitute of cultivation.

Agriculture is in a very backward state. Indeed, almost
the whole country is appropriated to grass. In some
places, however, they raise wheat, barley, oats, and flax.
Potatoes, of course, they have in abundance. There are
scarcely any ditches or hedges; their fences consisting
mostly of dry stone walls. Tliey have an excellent breed
of long horned cattle, and the finest flocks of sheep that
are any where to be seen. To this last branch of rural
economy they pay great attention ; those v/ho engage in it
have both enterprise and capital ; and accordingly it is in
a very flourishing condition. Tlie principal market for
stock is that of Ballinasloe, situated on the east border of
of the county. Labour is genenlly paid by rent or price
of corn acres, meadow, or grass of a cow. In 1811, the
average prices of various articles were calculated as fol-
lows : A man the year round, 1 U. 10*. 9d. ; a woman ditto
6/. \0s. ; carpenter per day 2*. 2d. ; mason ditto 2s. 5|rf. ;
slater ditto 25. Slof ; quarryman \s- \d.; thrasher Qcf; sad-
dle-horse ditto 4*. 4d. ; plough ditto 5s^ 5d.; grazing a cow
per week 25. 3d, ; oak per foot 4*. ; ash ditto 3s. 3d ; bricks
per 1000 U. ; a car mounted 41. Ws.; potatoes per stone

'566

GAL

GAM

3^f/. ; salt IjuttCT per cwt. "/. 14.s. 8i/. ; fresi) tl'Uto per lib.
Is. 2ir/. ; hay per ton 2/. 17s. 6f/ ; -.vliiskey per gallon 9s;
ale per quart Srf. ; porter per gallon Is. 6d.; beef per lib.
5irf ; niiiUon ditto 6il ; veal ilitlo ad. ; pork dilto 3.}rf; lambs
per score 19/. 10s. ; cheese per lib. Is. id ; shoeing a horse
4s. id.; shoes per pair 9s. Od. ; salt per stone Is. \d. Swe-
dish iron per cwt. \L Ss. 6d.; lUKlrcssed flax per cwt. 3/.
14». 8d.; wool per stone U. ; fowls per couple Is. 8d.;
wheat per barrel U. 18s. 5id ; barley dilto I5s. 6rf ; oats
<litto 10s. Id.; malt ditto 1/. I5s. 6d; flour, 1st, per cwt.
1/. 9s. 4d.; ditto, 2d, ditto 1/. 4s.; dilto, 3d, ditto 17s.;
oatmeal per cwt 14s.; labour in hay or corn harvest per
day Is. If/.; mowing grass per acre 4s. 6|f/. ; rabbits per
couple Is. \d.; milk, per tpiart 2(/ ; herrings per 100,5s.
3d; corn acres of oats per acre 5/. 6s. 10|r/ ; dilto mea-
dow ditto 61. 13s. 11',;.; ditto potatoe land dilto 7/. 7s.
6jV/. ; flax per rood 1/. 18s.

Large as this county is, there is not of property belonging
to absentees above LSOfiOO per annum. Perhaps one-third
of the whole land is let in partnership leases ; and in some
places leases are granted for three lives, or thirty-one years,
to an indefinite number of tenants, who are not only joint in
occupying the ground, but have the benefit of survivorship.
The average rent is L\. 10s. per green acre. A man of
large property is here termed a statesman, but he who has
only a few acres is called a f:atchman. The Earl of Clanri-
carde, Lord Clancarty, Mr Eyre, and Mr Ross Mahon,
have each estates in this county of about LXOflOO per an-
num, Christopher D. Baleii, Esq. has Z.600O, John Uiirke,
Esq. 2.7000, Lord French Z.o500, Malachy Doneyland
ZsOOO. Mr Martin has about 70 miles along the coast, and
is reckoned the most extensive landed proprietor in the
three kingdoms.

There is a good deal of fishing on the coast of Galway;
but the fishermen are destitute of sufficient enterprise. The
fish-market of Galway town is excellent, being supplied
■with turbot, salmon, Stc. at a cheap rate. Trade is at a low
ebb. Galway, though enjoying many local advantages in
this respect, has declined very much of late years. Be-
sides Galway, there are the well sheltered havens of Kill-
kerran, Birturby, Roundstone, and Ballynakill. The ma-
nufactures of the county are not worth mentioning.

Galway abounds in rivers and lakes. The lake of Lough
Corrib covers above 31,000 acres. It is twenty miles in
length, and eleven acres at the broadest part. It resembles
Lough Earne. Lough Reagh and Lough Coutra are said
to be beautiful pieces of water. Several of the rivers have
the peculiarity of being subterraneous in a part of their
course. These are the Black River, the Clare, the Moyne,
and the Gustnaroakln. Almost every river and brook in
the neighbourhood ofGort has a great number of these
swallows The principal town in the county is that of Gal-
way, which, indeed, is the largest in the province of Con-
naught. It is resorted to as a bathing-place in summer ;
and a place of residence in the winter for those families that
are fond of society. The houses stand with their gables to
the street, and a door in the end, like that of a coach-house.

Galway sends three members to parliament — two from
the county and one from the town. There is no overbear-
ing territorial influence. The Roman Catholic property is
very extensive, and always supports that interest. The
number of freeholders amounts to 4000. The freeholders
within the borough, along with the members of the corpo-
ration, v/iio are chosen at will, elect its representative. —
The inhabitants of this county are mostly Catholics, the
Catholics being as forty or fifty to one ; in landed properly
they are about one to three ; and in personal property as
three to one. In the western parts, there are distiicts of
fifty miles in extent, without a single church or a single

Prolcslant. The niiruia, consisting of 1000 men, were ail
Catholics, except the band and petty ofiicers, amountuig to
sixty or seventy. The Catholics arc increasing. There
are ten Catholics called on the grad jury.

This county conlains 1546 square miles, 989.950 acres,
16 baronies, 116 parishes, 28,212 houses, 142,000 inliabi-
tants, 35 acres to a house, and \8 24 souls to a square mile.
See Beaufort's Memoir of a Ma/t of Ireland. Wakefield's
Statistical Account of Ireland, (r)

GAM.\, Vasco UK, the discoverer of the passage to the
East Indies by the Cape of Good Hope, v/as descended of
a noble Forlugucsc family; and in early life distin,i;ui.shcd
himself as a naval commander in a war with ti'.e Fu- . Ii
In 14'J7, he was selected by Emmanuel, King of Portugal,
to command the squadron which had been equipped for the
voyage to India. His courage, penetration, pi udence, and
enterprising spirit, rendered him worthy of the important
charge, and were signally displayed in the course of the ex-
pedition. His squadron consisted only of three vessels and
a store-ship, all of them of a burden and force very inade-
quate for such a service. On the 8tli of July, the shore
was covered with the inhabitants of Lisbon, and the adven-
turous band set sail amidst the tears and prayers of their
countrymen and friends. It was the 4th day of Novem-
ber before they toucherl land on the western coast of Africa,
where, in an accidental scuflle with the natives, Gama was
wounded in his foot by a dart. From this period all his he-
roism was called forth in contending with the most tem-
pestuous seas, and combating the mutinous opposition of
his crew, till the 20lh of the same month, when the storm
suddenly ceased, and the Cape of Good Hope appeared in
view. Having taken in provisions, and destroyed their
store-sloop, they proceeded to sea on the 8th of December,
and reached the shores of Mozambique about the beginning
of March, where they first experienced the hostile dispo-
sitions of the Moors, and Gama narrowly escaped their
treacherous attempts upon his life. After various adven-
tures, in which his coolness and intrepidity were equally
displayed, he came to anchor before the city of Melinda,
where he found several merchant vessels from India, com-
manded by Christians; and, having procured a skilful pi-
lot, arrived at Calicut on the 22d of May 1 498. The sove-
reign of the country, or Zamorim, at first welcomed the
strangers with every demonstration of friendship ; but was
soon influenced by the Moors to depart from his promises
of alliance. On this occasion, Gama gave a noble proof of the
most determined resolution and heroic self-devotion to the
cause in which he had engaged. In order to complete the
object of his voyage, an interview with the Zamorim v/as
absolutely necessary; and, while he boldly committed him-
self into the hands of strangers, with all his experience of
their treacherous dispositions, his whole arrangements and
commands were directed, not to his own safety, but to the
success of the expedition. He left the most peremptory
orders with his officers, that if he were detained a prisoner,
or any attempt made upon his life, they should take no step
to save him ; that they should give ear to no message,
which might come in his name ; that they should enter into
no negociation in his behalf; that they should not risk the
loss of a single man, or endanger in any respect the home-
ward voyage for his sake ; but the moment they perceived
his escape to be impracticable, they should set sail for Eu-
rope, and carry to the king of Portugal the tidings of the
discovery of India. He escaped the snares of the Zamo-
rim, defeated the Indian fleet, and pursued his homeward
course. He reached St Jago in safety; but his brother,
Paulus de Gama, sinking under the fatigues of the voyage,
was unable to proceed. The generous and afTcctionate
Gama, less elated with the triumphs which awaited his re-

GAM

GAN

567

turn, Uian artlictccl by the sickness of liis brotljcr, sent for-
wai'tl his shij) iiiidc]- the commancl of one of his otliccrs, and
remained at 'I'ercera, to soothe the death bed, and to close
the eyes of Paulas. Having fulfilled this melancholy of-
fice, lie landed at Lisbon on ihc I4tli of September 1499,
after performing the longest «ind most difhcuU voyaije that
had ever been made since tlie frst discoveiy of navij^ation.
Honoured with tlie lille of nobility, appointed admiral of the
I'kistcrn seas, rewarded w ith a suitable salary, loaded with
the compliments of the court, and followed by the sliouts of
the populace, he remained inconsolable for the loss of his
biollier, the coiiipauion of '..s toils; and shutting liimselt
lip in a lonely house on 1 e sea-side at Bclem, could not
be persuaded, till after a long interval, to mingle again in
public life, lie was appointed, in 1503, to the command of
a i)0\vcrful fleet of 20 ships, destined for India, wlicrc he
had frequent engagements with the fleets of the Z imorim ;
and, having secured a friendly commerce with the ports of
Cochin and Cananore, he returned home with 12 ships,
loaded wiih the riches of the East. The mal-adniinistralion
of future commanders in India requiring the jiresence of
some distinguished character, he set sail a third time, in tlie
year 1524, in the office of \'iceroy, and with the title of
Count de \'^idigucyra. Having remedied the errors of his
predecessors by his exalted and liberal policy, he was in-
terrupted in the prosecution of his enlightened jilans, and
died at Cochin three months after his arrival. See Roljerl-
son's History of America ; Abbe Raynal's History of lite
East and West Indies ; Mickle's Lusiad, Introduction; and
Modern Universal History, \-o\. its., (y)

GAMBOGE is the name of the concrete, gummy, and
I'esinous juice of the Statagmitis gambogioidcs, a tall tree,
with spreading branches, which grows in Cambodia or
Cambogia, Ceylon, Siam, and Cochinchina. The gam-
boge from Siam is sent home in small tears, which exude
from the leaf-stalks, andyoiuig shoots that are broken off
the tree. The gamboge of Ceylon is obtained from deep
incisions in the bark, the juice being afterwards inspissated
by the heat of the sun, and formed into cakes or lolls. The
external colour is brownish-yellow, leaving a deep reddish-
orange tint witliin. Its surface is smootli, and its texture
equal and unif'jrni. It has no smell, and very little taste ;
but when it has remained some time in the mouth, it leaves
an acrid impression. It melts and blazes when applied to
the flame of a candle, emitting sparks and a dense black
smoke. Its f^ame is white when the gamboge is good, and
its ashes grey. The larger and dark-coloured cakes are
not good.

When dissolved in water, gamboge forms a fine yellow
pigment, which is well known. It is also employed in
making the gold-coloured lacquer for staining white wood,
so as to resemble boxv/ood ; and in giving a beautiful and
durable citron-yellow stain to marble.

The following Table shews the quantity imported and
sold by the East India Company from 1804 to 1808, in-
clusive. The permanent duty is Ls. 12s. per cwt. and the
war duty il : 17 : 6, amounting in all to i-7 : 9 : 4.

Aver. Price

Years.

March Sale.

Sept. Sale.

Total.

per Cwt.

Cwt.

Price.

Cwt.

Price.

Cwt.

Price.

L. s. d.

1804

L 1270

Z,1270

19 16 10

18C-5

1095

219 5

1806

1592

24 9 10

1807

1048

34 18 8

1808

Z-.929

112

2175

146

3104

21 5 2

Twenty cwt. of gamboge are all6\ved to the ton. See
Lewis' Materia Mcdica ; .N^eumann's C/nmislry, bv Lewis,
yi. 300, note m; Aikin's Dictionary of C/icmistry ; and
Milbuni's Oriental Commerce.

G.\iME Laws. See LA:r.

(i.^MES. Sec GuF.ECK and IJomk.

GANGES, a celebrated river of Asia, whose waters are
regarded by the Hindoo as an object of peculiar sanctity
and veneration.

In Eastern mythology, Ganga, the Ganges, is described
as the eldest daughter of the great mountain Himavata,
and called Ganga on account of flowing through gang, the
earth. _ The Hindoo, willing to adopt' what the Brahmin
tells him as most congenial to his prejudices of the origin
of the sacred river, believes that it issues from the root of
the Boohjputre tree, through the semblance of a cow's
mouth in stone, and flows directly from heaven ; nor does
he seek to be undeceived of so ag'reeable an illusion.

Until lately, much obscurity existed with regard to the
true source of the Ganges ; nor indeed to this day lias it
been traced up to the fountain head. Bui on this point the
field of conjecture and doubt is much narrowed. All the
maps, till 1 807, assigned a course to the Ganges many hun-
dred miles within the range of Himalaya mountains, the
northern boundary of Hiudostan. But the late Lieutenant-
Colonel Colebroke, Surveyor-General of Bengal, refused it
so remote an origin, on the grounds, that if it pursued such
a length of course, it must have swelled to a river of great
magnitude long before it reached Gangoutri, from the sup-
ply of mountain-snows and lills. This gentleman was di-
rected by the Bengal govcinment to explore the sources
of the Ganges; unfortunately, a premature death deprived
the world of his services and professional abilities. Lieu-
tenant Webbe, surveyor, was instructed to follow up Colo-
nel Colebrooke's views, but he failed of success, being
stopped by the extreme difficulties of the way, when, by all
accounts, he was witliin a few days reach of the ultimate
object of his mission. Geographers now agree m deducing
the source of the Ganges from no considerable distance
beyond Gangoutri, situated in N. Lat. 31° 4', and E. Long.
78° 9', among- the Himalaya mountains, in the province of
Scrinagur.

This opinion rests on the following grounds : that all the
mountain streams, during Lieutenant Webbc's journey,
were found to be increased during a course of eight or ten
miles, from the smallest rivulet, to a considerable and un-
fordable river, by the supply of springs and tributary rills.
The course of the Ganges and Alacananda rivers having
been followed, till the former became a shallow and stag-
nant pool, and the latter a small stream ; and both being
affected by the dissolution of snows, in addition to springs
and rills, it was concluded, from analogy, that the sources
of these rivers could be at no great distance from the spot
where the observations were made. As we have no reason
to suppose that the Bhagiratlii branch of the Ganges is go-
verned by laws diflerent from other mountain streams, we
are warranted in fixing its source on the soutiiern side of
the Himalaya range of mountains, and likewise in conclud-
ing that all the tributary streams of the Ganges, with the
Sarjew or Goggrah, and the Jumna, whose chief fountain
is not remote fkom the Ganges, rise also on the same side
of that chain of mountains. Every account agrees that the
source of the Ganges extends beyond Gangoutri, which
is merely the point whence it issues from Himalaya. It
is said to be here fifteen or twenty yards broad, the current
moderate, and waist deep. But the access beyond this place
is much obstructed by snows. The pilgrims, and those
who reside in the vicinity of Gangoutri, and who gain a

568

GANGES.

livelihood by biingiiig water from the spot, say that the
roud is only passable for a few miles, when the current is
entirely concealed under heaps of snow, which no travel-
ler ever has surmounted, or can surmount. This river
assuming the name of the Biuitjirathi, continues to How Irom
the nortii till it meets the waters of the Alacananda from
the east. Their united streams at the town of Devapraya-
ga, in North Lat. 3(j° 8' 6", form the Ganges. Thus it ap-
pears that the Alacananda, which rises at a place called
Bhadinath, in North Lat. 30° 42' 28", and East Long. 80°
18' 22" divides with the liiuigirathi the honour of forming
the sacred river. The contrast of these two rivers is re-
markable. The Bhagirathi rushes down a steep declivity,
foaming over large stones and fragments in its bed, while the
placid Alacananda flows with a smooth and unruffled wave,
till it unites its murmurs vviih the boisterous torrent of its
sister stream. The breadth of the former is 112 feet, and
it is said to rise 40 feet in the rains. It is crossed by a
bridge of ropes, elevated 52 feet above the level of the water.

The spot Where theG.mges enters the plains, after forc-
ing its way through an extensive tract of mountainous
country, is called Hairu ca Pairi, situated at the extremity
of the town of Hurdwar, and is regarded with peculiar ve-
neration by the Hindoos. Hither an annual pilgrimage is
made by people from all parts of Hindostan and the Dec-
can, for the purpose of ablution in the sacred stream. The
bathing commences on the 10th of April. Every twelfth
year is celebrated with greater rejoicings, and is called
Cumbla Meba, from the planet Jupiter being then in the
sign Atiuarius. A fair is held here, and numbers repair to
it merely from commercial motives. Merchants from the
Penjab, Cabul, Cashmere, and other places, furnish mer-
chandise, and from this mart the principal cities in the
Duab, Delhi, and Lucknow, are supplied. At this season,
sometimes two millions of people are collected. The tem-
ple containing the idol rises from the bed of the river. It
is a plain building, surmounted by two cupolas. No par-
ticular ceremony is observed at the bathing, which consists
of simple immersion. Those who are rigidly devout, or
who have any apprehension about going into the water, arc
assisted by a couple of Brahmins, who having dipped the
penitent in the holy stream, reconduct him ashore. Few,
however, require this assistance ; and as the water is not
above four feet deep, the women plunge in without hesita-
tion, and both sexes mix indiscriminately. After ablution is
perfoimed, the men whose fathers are dead, and widows,
undergo tonsure, and the hair is generally strewed in
some ' frequented path, with the superstitious idea, that
good or bad fortune is indicated by the person or animal
that first chances to tread on it. An elephant is consider-
ed peculiarly fortunate.

Although the water of the Ganges, from Gangoutri to
Sagor, is esteemed sacred, yet there are certain places, the
resort of pilgrims from a distance, more eminently so than
the rest. These are chiefly the five Pruyags, or sacred
junctions of rivers, of which the principal is Allahabad,
called simply Pruyag by way of distinction. The others
' are situated in the province of Sirinagur, at the confluence
of the Alacananda with small rivers, and are named Deva-
prayagc, Budraprayaga, Carnaprayaga, and Nandaprayaga.
Besides its sanctity, the Ganges is much esteemed fur its
medicinal properties, and drank on this account by Maho-
medans.

The Ganges and Brahmapootra rivers, with their nu-
merous branches and tributaries, intersect the country of
Bengal in such a variety of directions, as to form the most
complete and easy inland navigation imaginable. So equal-
ly and admirably diffused are those natural canals, over a
country approaching to a perfect plain, that 4-5ths of Ben-

gal may be safely said to be so well watered, as to com-
mand some navigable stream, even in the dry season, with-
in a distance of twenty-five miles. This inland navigation
employs upwards of 30,000 boatmen. And when it is con-
sidered that all the salt, and most of the food consumed by
so large a population, is transported by water within Ben-
gal and its dependencies, and at the same time that the
commercial exports and imports, the interchange of manu-
factures and products throughout the country, tlie fisheries,
and travelling, arc all carried on by this means, it becomes
less a matter of surprize that the inland navigation should
employ such a number of hands.

The Ganges, on escaping from the mountains, flows with
a smooth navigable stream, through delightful plains, dur-
ing its course to the sea, diffusing plenty over the adjacent
lands, and afl'ording every facility for the transport of the
productions of its borders. Nor is it unimportant in a mi-
litary point of view; opening a communication between
the different posts, it serves as a military way through
the country, and renders unnecessary the formation of ma-
gazines.

After the Ganges issues from the mountains near Hurd-
war, to the conflux with the Jumna at Allahabad, (the first
large river that it meets), its bed varies from a mile to one
mileanda quarter in breadth. Erorn thence its course be-
comes more circuitoirs, and its channel wider, till having
received successively the Goggrah, the Soane, and the
Gunduck, besides many smaller streams, its channel attain'^
its lull width ; and though afterwards in some places it nar-
rows to half a mile, yet where no islands intervene, it ex-
tends to a breadth of three miles. When at its lowest, the
principal channel varies from 400 yards to lith mile wide,
and commonly is about ^ths of a mile in breadth. The
Ganges is fordable at some places above its conflux with
the Jumna, but the navigation is never interrupted. At 500
miles from the sea, the channel is 30 feet deep when the
river is lowest ; and this depth continues to the sea, where
the sudden expansion of the stream deprives it of force
sufficient to sweep away the bars of sand and mud thrown
across it by the strong southerly winds, so that the prin-
cipal branch of the Ganges cannot be entered by large
vessels.

In its course through the plains, the Ganges receives
1 1 rivers, some which are equal in size to the Rhine, and
none smaller than the Thames, besides as many more of
lesser note. To this vast influx of water, it is owing that
the Ganges exceeds the Nile so much in point of magni-
tude, while the latter exceeds it by one third in length of
course.

The general descent of the Ganges does not exceed four
inches per mile ; and the mean rate of motion, in the dry
season, is less than three miles an hour. In the wet season,
whilst the waters are running off from the inundated lands,
the current flows from five to six miles an hour, and in par-
ticular circumstances and situations, seven or eight miles.
An instance is mentioned by Rennell, in which a boat was
carried, against a strong wind, 56 miles in eight hours.
Considering that the velocity of the stream is three miles
in one season, and five or more in the other, or the same
descent of four inches per mile, and that the motion of the
inundation is only half a mile per hour, on a much greater
descent, no further proof is required, how small the pro-
portion of velocity is, which is communicated by the de-
scent. It is then to the impetus originating at the spring
head, or at the place where adventitious waters are pouied
in, and successively communicated to every part of the
stream, that we are to attribute the velocity, which is go-
verned by the greater or less accession of water.

The annual swelling and overflowing of the Ganges, i

GANGES.

569

attributable as miicli to tlio rain water that fails in tlie
mountains contiguous to its source, and to tlie sources of
the p;reat northern rivers that fall into it, as to that which
falls into the plains. The dissolution of mountain snow
adds l)ut little to iis increase ; for it rises but I5i feet out
of 32 (the sum total of its rise) by the latter end of June,
and it is well known that the rainy season does not com-
mence in most of the low countries till about that tiinc.

In the mountains, the rains begin early in April, and by
the latter end of tl-.at month, when the rain water has reach-
ed Bengal, the river begins to rise, but by very slow de-
grees, the increase being only about an inch a day for the first
fortnight. It then gradually augments to two or three
inches, before any quantity of rain falls in the low countries.
On the rain bticomina; general, the increase on a medium
is five inches per day.

The following Table shews the gradual increase of the
Ganges, and its branches, according to observations made
at Jellinghy and Dacca.

At Jellingliy.
In May it rose . . .

June

July

In the first half of August

Ft. In. At Dacca. Ft. In.

6 0 2 4

.96 46

12 6 5 6

4 0 1 11

52 0

Its daily increase is nearly in the following proportion.
During the latter half of August, and all September, from
three to four inches ; from September to the end of Novem-
ber, it diminishes gradually from three inches to one and
a half inch ; and at a medium a half inch per day, from No-
vember to the latter end of April. These proportions re-
late to such parts of the river as are not affected by the
tides. By the latter end of July, all the lower parts of
Bengal are overflowed contiguous to the Ganges and Brah-
mapootra, forming an inundation of more tliun 100 miles
in width, nothing appearing but villages and trees, and here
and there the site of an abandoned village, resembling an
island. Owing to the quantity of rain that falls in Bengal,
the lands are generally overflowed to a considerable height
long before the bed of the river is filled, the ground adja-
cent to the bank, to the extent of some miles, being more
elevated than the rest of the coimtry. Dikes, kept up at an
enormous expence, guard particular tracks from inunda-
tion, yet these are liable to be damaged, owing to the want of
tenacity in tlie soil of which they are composed. It is cal-
culated that the length of these dikes, collectively, exceeds
iOOO miles. The inundation is nearly at a stand in Bengal
for some days preceding the Isth of August, when it be-
gins to run off, though great quantities of rain still con-
tinue to fall during August and September ; but by this
time a decrease of rain having taken place in the moun-
tains, a consequent deficiency of supply to keep up the in-
undation ensues. Of the increase of the Ganges, Rennell
remarks thai, there is a difference in the quantity of this in-
crease at places more or less remote from the sea, the
height of the periodical increase diminishing gradually
from where the tide reaches to the sea, until it totally dis-
appears at the point of confluence. The ocean preserving
the same level at all seasons, (under similar circumstances
of tide) necessarily influences the level of all waters that
communicate with it, unless precipitated in the form of a
cataract. At Luckipoor, there is a difl'erence of about six
feet in the height at different seasons ; at Dacca, and places
adjacent, 14 ; and at Custee of 31 feet. The last place is

Vol. IX. Part II.

about 240 miles from the sea, by the course of the river;
and the surface of the river there i.s, in liie dry season, 80
feet above the level of the sea at high water,

The (luantity of water discharged by the Ganges, in one
second of time, in the dry season, is 80,000 cubic ftct ; but
the river, when full, having twice the volume of water in
it, and its motion being accelerated in the proportion of 5
to 3, the quantity then discharged is 405^000 cubic feet.
Taking the medium of the whole year, it will be nearly
180,000 cubic feet ])fr second of lime.

Eurijpeans view with wontlcrtlie remarkable alterations
in the course of tiie (innges, and the other rivers of Bengal,
although the natives of the country, who have long wit-
nessed the encroaclimcnts and deviations of their streams,
behold these changes without surprise. The greatest in-
jury is sustained during the periodical floods, and while the
waters are draining off ; and w!icn it is considered that at
this season, at the distance of 200 miles from the sea, there
is an increase of more than 25 feet in the pcrpentlicular
height of the water, some idea may be formed oi the velo-
city with which it will run off, and of the liavoc which it
will make on the banks. Accordingly, it is not unusual to
find, when the rainy season is over, large portions of the
banks precipitated into the channel, and the dcvastalltju ex-
tended over fields and plantations ; even trees which, with
the maturity of a century, have acquired strength to resist
the most violent storms, have been suddenly undermined,
and swept away by the stream. But tiie encroachments
are as often carried on gra(hially, arid in the dry season ;
in this case the natives have time to remove their effects,
and change their places of abode, if too near the banks.
Whole villages are thus seen deserted, whose inhabitants
had retired to safer situations. Along the banks of the
Ganges, wliere the depredations of the flood are most to be
apprehended, the people are so accustomed to removal,
that they make use of light materials only in huts, and
such as, on an emergency, can be easily transported.
These effects are attributable, in a great measure, to the
looseness of the soil ; but this destructive operation of na-
ture is in some degree compensated by the formation of
new lands, either by alluvions on the opposite shore, or by
islands which emerge in the middle of the stream, and
ultimately become connected with the main land, by the
closing up of one of the channels. The Ganges gives birth
to numerous islands, which are of an extent propor-
tional to the bulk of its waters. The rapidity with wliich
these islands have been tlvrown up, and the size to which
they have swoln, appear objects of astonishment to
those who have opportunity of observation. When the
inundation has subdivided, and the river found its ordinary
level in the dry season, considerable sand banks are seen
in places where, the preceding year, the channel had been
navigable. The collection of sand becomes sometimes so
great, as to divert the main stream into a new and general-
ly more direct course ; for it is only by encroachments on
the banks that inflexions in the stream are produced, while
the sudden alluvions, and frequent depositions of sand, have
a tendency to fill up the channel, into which it had been di-
verted, and to restore the straiglilness of its course. Such
of the islands as are found on their appearance to have any
soil, are immediately cultivated; and water melons, cu-
cumbers, and suisoo or mustard, are tlie produce of the
first year. Even rice is seen growing on those p;irts,
where a quantity of mud has been dept'sited near the wa-
ter's edge. Some of these islar.ds, before they havt; ac-
quired sufficient stability to resist tne force of t.ie curront,
are swept away; but when, ijy repeated adciitions of soil,
they appear to be firm and cijnsolidated, the natives no

570

GANGES.

longer hesitate to take possesbion of tliem, and the new
acquisitions become imni'idiatcly a subject of ..kercation.
The settlers transport their families, cattle, and effects.
The hii:;hest spots are selected for the villages, and dwell-
ings are raised with as much confidence as on the main
land; and though the foundation be sandy, the stratum of
soil which is uppermost bein;^ interwoven will) the roots of
grass and other plants, becomes hardened by the sun, and
at length sulTicicntly firm to resist the attacks of the
stream. Thus these islands are liable to destruction only
by the same process of undermining and encroachment to
which the banks of the river are subject. When an island
is found too extensive for cultivating the wliole of it, it is
soon overrun with reeds and long grass, forming impene-
trable thickets, and aflbrding shelter to tigers, buffaloes,
deer, and other wild animals. The rest of the lands pro-
duce good pasturage, and feed thousands of cattle. The
subsequent inundations fertilizing the soil, to which the
burning of the grass greatly contributes, the inhabitants
are induced to extend the limits of their cultivation, and
settle permanently. The islands of the Ganges are distin-
guishable from the mainland, by tl-.eir having few or no
trees, even after a communication has been formed by the
closing up of one of the channels, which generally happens
in a few years. Dera Khowaspour, one of the largest, has
continued longer in an insulated state than any other, ow-
ing to its peculiar situation, immediately below the con-
fluence of the Ganges and Doosa rivers. It is 9A miles
in length, and at the greatest breadth 2A broad, contain-
ing about 20 square miles of land, mostly cultivated, with
several villages. In the highest fioods the inhabitants are
obliged to erect temporary huts on pillars of wood, or
stages ; but they are seldom reduced to this necessity.

If we present to the imagination a wide extended plain,
with pens for cattle, and a few humble huts, wliose tops are
crowned with gourds, the intervening space highly culti-
vated with wheat, barley, and pulse of all sorts, whose
flowers entertain the eye with a variety of rich tints; if we
farther imagine the scene animated with numerous herds
of cattle, and a few villages scattered over the distance,
the horizon bounding the view with no other remote ob-
jects than a long line of grass jungle, and a few trees hard-
ly discernible, from the great distance on the mainland, we
shall then have a tolerable picture of an island of the Gan-
ges. Finally, if we imagine the air cool, the sky serene and
unclouded, we shall liave an idea of the state of these
islands during at least six months of the year.

In the higher parts of IlindDStan, where a conker soil,
or a hard reddish calcareous earth, prevails, the banks are
not so liable to be undermined, and are even firm enough
to resist the utmost efforts of the stream ; but in Bengal,
there are few places where a town built on its banks can
long retain the advantage of its situation, being either lia-
ble to be destroyed by the river, or else to be deserted by
it. In its course through Bengal, the Ganges may be said
to have under its dominion a large portion of the flat coun-
try; for not only the channel wliich contains the main body
of its waters, but also the land embraced by its collateral
brandies, is subject to inundation, or destruction, by en-
croachment of the stream, and may therefore be consider-
ed belonging to the river. Nor can the bed of the Ganges
through Bengal be said to be permanent. However, irom
local causes, at some places the main channel and deepest
water will always be found, as at IMoughir, Sultangunge,
Sicriguliy, and Rajemahl ; at these places rocky points
project into the stream, and some parts of the bed are
btony, or the banks consist of conker.

The following Table will convey an idea of the windings
of the Ganges, and its branches:

Miles.
Within 100 miles the Ganges increases the distance

to 125

The Goggrah, or Dewah, to 112

The Hoogly, from Calcutta to Nuddea, increases

from 60 to 76

The (ioompty from 10 J to 175

The Issamutty and Jaboona from 100 to .... 217

About 200 miles from the sea (but 300 reckoning the
winding of the river) commences the Delta of the Ganges.
Tlie two westernmost branches, called the Cossimbazar and
Jellinghy rivers, unite, and form what is called the Hoogly
river, which makes the port of Calcutta, and the only
branch of the Ganges commonly navigated by ships. The
city of Calcutta stands about 100 miles from the sea, on
the east side of the western branch of the Cianges, named
by Europeans the Hoogly, and by the natives the Bhagira-
thi, or true Ganges, and considered by them peculiarly
sacred. The river is here, at high water, fully a mile
broad ; but during the ebb, the side, opposite to Calcutta
exposes a long range of sand banks. On approaching Cal-
cutta from the sea, a stranger is much struck with its ap-
pearance ; the elegant villas on each side of the river, the
company's botanic gardens, the spires of the churches,
temples, and minarets, and the fine citadel of Fort- Wil-
liam, present a magnificent spectacle. Calcutta possesses
the advantage of an excellent inland navigation, foreign
imports being transported with great facility on the Gan-
ges, and its subsidiary streams, to the northern nations of
Hindostan, while the productions of the interior are receiv-
ed by the same channels. Where the Hoogly is joined by
the Roopnarain, a very large sheet of water is formed, but
it has many shoals; facing directly the approach from the
sea, (while the Hoogly turns to the right,) it occasions the
loss of many vessels, which are carried up the Roopnarain
by the tide. Here is formed a dangerous sand, named the
James and Mary, around which the channel is never the
same for a week, and requires frequent surveys. The
Bore commences at Hoogly Point. So quick is its motion,
that it hardly takes four hours to run a distance of 70
miles. It does not flow on the Calcutta side, but along the
opposite bank; from whence, crossing at Chitpoor, about
four miles above Fort-William, it proceeds with great vio-
lence past Barnag-ore and Duckinsoie. On its approach,
boats must immediately quit the shore, and go for safety
into the middle of the river. At Calcutta it sometimes
occasions an instantaneous rise of five feet.

The part of the Delta bordering on the sea is composed
of a labyrinth of rivers and creeks, named the Sunder-
bunds, which, including the rivers that bound it, give an
expansion of '.'00 miles to the branches of the Ganges at
its junction with the sea. A complete inland navigation is
formed from the disposition of these natural canals. In
tracing the sea-coast of this Delta, there are eight open-
ings found, each of which appears to be the principal
mouth of the Ganges. The course of the river fluctuates
from one side of the Delta to the other; nothing appearing
in its numerous creeks and rivers but regular strata of sand
and black niould : The clay is found deposited below.

The navigation through the Sunderbunds is chiefly by
means of the tides, there being two distinct passages; the
one the Southern or Sunderbund passage, the other the
Balliaghaut. The first is the longest, leading through the
widest and deepest rivers, and opening into the Hoogly or
Calcutta river, about 65 miles below the town. The Bal-
liaghaut passage opens into a lake on the east side of Cal-
cutta. The navigation of these passages extends above
200 miles through a thick forest, broken into numberless

GAN

GAR

571

islands by a variety of channels, clifTeiin.c; so much in widtli,
that a vessel is at one time entangled among the trees, and
at another sails on a broad expanse of water, beatilifully
skirted with wood. The water is every where salt; and
the forest is abandoned to wild beasts, with the exception
here and there of the solitary habitation of a fakeer. Dur-
ing the dry season, the salt-makers who visit these livers
exercise their trade at the imminent hazard of their lives;
enormous tigers not only making their appearance on their
borders, but swimming off to the boats that lie at anchor.
In addition to these, the rivers swarm with alligators.
These passages are open throughout tlie year, and during
the season when the stream of the Ganges is low, all the
trade of Bengal (the western districts excepted) passes
either by Channel Creek or by Balliaghaut, but chiefly by
the former.

It is neither practicable nor desirable to reclaim these
salt marshy lands, generally overflowed by the tide. This
forest has always been considered of importance in a poli-
tical view, presenting a strong natural barrier along the
southern frontier of Bengal. Excellent salt in abundance
is here manufactured ; the woods also furnish an inexhaus-
tible supply of timber for fuel, boat-building, and other
purposes.

The British nation, with their allies and tributaries, oc-
cupy the whole navigable course of the Ganges, from its
entry on the plains to the sea ; which by its windings, is
about 1500 British miles. The following circumstance at-
tending the Ganges and Brahmapootra rivers is remarka-
ble. Though the sources of tiie latter have never been
explored, they are in all probability only separated from
those of the former by a narrow range of snow-clad moun-
tains, about the 32° of North Latitude, and the 82° of East
Longitude. From thence directing their courses to oppo-
site quarters, they are more than 1200 miles apart ; but
afterwards meet, and roll their mighty streams in conjunc-
tion to the sea.

There is a species of dolphin peculiar to the Ganges,
which is particularly described by Dr Roxburgh in the
seventh volume of the Asiatic Researches. We shall give
merely a general outline of this animal. The body is long
and slender, thickest r.bout the forepart, and from thence
tapering to the tail. The skin is soft, smooth, and of a
shining pearl-grey, or lead colour when dry; diversified
viih lighter coloured spots, or clouds, particularly when
old; but when the animal is alive, and as it a])pf-»is in the
water when vising to breathe, it looks much darker. The
length of the one described (a young half thrown male) was
61- feet, and 3 feet in circumference where thickest, rather
bcliiiid the pectoral fins. It weighed 120 pounds. The
head is remarkable, being about one-sixth part of the
length of the whole animal, and the jaws are furnished
with no less than !20 teeth. Wiicn in pursuit of fish, it
moves with great velocity. Between the skin and flesh is
a coat of yellowish-coloured fat, more or less thick accord-
ing to the state of the animal. This the Hindoos set a high
value on, as an application for removing pains of various
kinds. The flesh is like the lean of beei in colour, of no
disagreeable smell, yet, so far as was learnt, not eaten by
the natives. See Colebrooke, Asiatic Researches; Ken-
nel's Phil. Memoir ; Webbe's Sun<ei/, Asiatic Researches;
and Hamilton's East India Gazetteer, (w. t)

GANGLION. See Surgf.ky.

GANGRENE. See SunGEKY.

GANJAM is a town of Hindostan, in the cirrar of Ci-
cacole, near the Bay of Bengal. It is situated on a small
eminence along the river, at the distance of about a (|uarter
of a league from its embouchure. The principal public build-

ings are a large pagoda, and the house of the governor, built
of Ijiick. All the other houses arc built of a greasy earth,
and covered within and without with lime. They are
roofed with straw or bulrushes, wliicli are renewed every
two years. The town is of a moderate size; the streets
are nairow, and ill arranged ; but the inhabitants are nu-
merous, lii 1711, when the town was rich and populous,
it was situated very near the shore, but a violent storm of
wind, which rose in the evening, drove out the sea, and in-
undated the town, so that only a few of the inhabitants es-
caped. The harbour of Ganjam is commodious; it has
five or six feet of water at neap tides, and nine or ten in
spring tides. Vessels are built here at a cheap rate, and
in great numbers. The finest muslins that are made on the
coast are manufactured at Ganjam. Provisions are cheap,
and there is plenty of corn and vice. The town is much
frequented by the merchants of Bengal, and by the Arme-
nians.

Ganjam is at present one of the five districts into which
the northern Circars arc divided, and is the residence of a
collector and judge. The fort, which stands on the sou-
thern side of the river, is a small pentagon, on plain ground,
and is capable of making a considerable resistance when
well garrisoned. Sugar and jagary arc cultivated in the
neighbourhood ; but the country north of the town is very
low, and is inundated in the rainy season.

Between the 1st of May 1811, and the 30th of April
1812, the total value of imports at Ganjain, chiefly from
Calcutta, was 105,250 rupees, of which only Gil 4 rupees
was from places beyond the territories of the Madras go-
verimient. The total value of exports within the same
period, was 471,503 rupees, of which only 8553 rupees
was to places beyond the Madras territories, viz. 3157 to
Calcutta, and 5396 Arcot rupees to Botany Bay. Distance
from Calcutta 372 miles ; from Madras 650. East. Long.
85° 18' 15", North Lat. 19° 22' 30", according to astrono-
mical observations. See Hamilton's East India Gazet-
teer; Milburn's Oriental Commerce ; and Peuchel's Dic-
tionary.

GARD, the name of one of the departments of France,
in the province of Languedoc, formed out of the dioceses
of Alais, Uzes, and Ninies. It is bounded on the north by
the department of Ardcche, on the west by those of Lo-
zere, Avcyron, and Herault ; on the south by the sea ; and
on the east by those of the Bouches du Rhone and Vau-
cluse.

The territory of this department, though mountainous,
is very fertile. It contains many rich meadows, and pro-
duces grain of all kinds, wines, olives, silk, brandy, and
coal. The wines of St Gilles have the greatest reputation.
It has also mines of copper, iron, and other minerals. It
is bounded by the Rhone on one side, and is watered by the
Gardon, which passes below the Pont du Gard, a splendid
specimen of Roman architecture. It is an aqueduct bridge
of 49 arches, which crosses a valley not less than 160 feet
deep. The forests occupy from 47 to 48 thousand hectares,
or about 93,000 acres. More than a third of them belong
to individuals, the greater part of the remainder to the
communes, and the rest to the nation. The contributions
in the year 1803, were 2,866,398 francs. The principal
towns are

Popukation.

Nimes 39.300

Alais s 9i7

Uzes 6,1 yi

Le ^'igan 3,848

The population of the dcpartmeiit is 309,052. See
Fkance.

4 C 2

572

GAll

GAB

GARDENING is a very general term, being emijloyecl
to sigiiil'y both the Imjing-aut of pleasure grounds, and the
cuUivaim^- of fruit-trees, culinary herbs, and llowers. To
the former branch belong the consideration of the general
aspect of the ground, and the capabilities of the entire place,
the improver often availing himself of liills, rivers, or fo-
rests, beyond the boundaries of the domain immediately un-
tkr his power; the situation and extent of woods, groves,
and clumps ; the general grouping of trees, and the charac-
teristics of the difiercnt kinds; likewise the fnanagement
of ornamental water, either in the form of rivers or brooks,
with waterfalls and bridges ; or as lakes, with islands and
fountains ; al?o of rocks and ruins ; and, lastly, the mansion-
house and oflices, it being evident that the house and the
grounds must agree in character, or be mutually adapted
to each other. To the latter belong the formation and cul-
ture oi \\i& garden, properly so called, including the culti-
vation of fruit-trees, as standards, espaliers, or wall-trees,
of kitchen vegetables, and of ornamental plants, with a num-
ber of subordinate operations, such as the management of
forcing-houses, hot-bed frames, hot-houses, conservatories,
and green-houses. The former branch is properly denomi-
nated Landscape-Gardening, and the latter Horticul-
ture ; and under these titles we purpose to treat of them.
The raising of forest trees in nurseries, and the general or-
dering of woods and copses, are subjects connected with
gardening, which shall receive due attention in a subse-
quent part of our work. An account of the mode of estab-
lishing orchards, and of managing them, willi descriptions
of the best orchard fruits, may be expected under the word
Orchard.

GARMOUTH, or Garmach, is a seaport town of Scot-
land, in tlie county of Moray, situated at the mouth of the
river Spey. The houses are principally built of clay, but the
streets are rcy;ular, and the appearance of the place is re-
spectable. From the great rapidity of the Spey, the tide
does not run above half a mile up the river, and hence the
harbour is often choked up by the gravel which is brought
down by the rapidity of the Spey. At neap tides, the ordi-
nary depth of water is from 8 to 93 feet. Ships of 400 tons
can enter and leave the harbour without any inconvenience.
The principal trade of Garmoutb consists of wood and
salmon. The wood, which is cut on the property of the
Duke of Gordon, Sir James Grant, and Mr Grant of Rothie-
murchus, are floated down the Spey in rafts to a great ex-
tent, and is shipped at Garmouth, partly for Hull, and part-
ly for Deptford and Woolwich. The wood, which is of the
very best quality, is often cut into planks where it grows.
There are two sawmills at Garmouth : One of these, driven
by wind, works about 'lO saws; and the other, which is im-
pelled by water, works from 30 to 36 saws. Vessels from
50 to 500 tons have been built here, entirely of homegrown
wood. Several sloops are employed in conveying salmon
to London during the fishing season. There is a fall of 60
feet in the Spey, from Gordon Castle to Garmouth. Inha-
bited houses 304. Population 1200. West Long. 3°, North
Lat. 57° 39'.

GARNET. See Mineralogy.

GARONNE, Higher, the name of a department of
France, in Languedoc, formed out of the dioceses of Tou-
louse, Rieux, and Comminges. It is bounded on the north
by the department of the Lot, on the west by those of Gers
and the Higher Pyrenees, on the south by the Pyrenees,
and on the east by the departments of Arriege, Aude, and
Tarn.

The soil of this department is fertile in vines, grains, and
pasturage ; and it contains large forests, with quarries of
marble and mineral springs. The river Garonne passes
through the very middle of the department. The forests

occupy 48,940 hectares, or about 95 or 95 thousand acres.
Half of them belong to the communes, and the rest to the
nation. The contributions in 1303, were 4,554,341 francs.
The principal towns arc

Population.

Toulouse 50,171

Castel Sarazin 7,000

StGaudens 4,155

Muret 3,141

Villefranchc 2,035

The population of the whole department is 432,263. See
France ; and Toulouse.

GARRICK, David, the celebrated English comedian,
was horn in the city of Hereford, and baptized on the 20th
of February 1716. His grandfather was a French mer-
chant, who, on the revocation of the edict of Nantz, fled to
England witli other Protestants, and settled in London.
His father, Peter Garrick, obtained a captain's commission
in the army, and married a daughter of the Rev. Mr Clough,
one of the vicars in Litchfield cathedral. Soon after that
time, it appears that Captain Garrick sold his commission,
and retired to Litchfield on half-pay. At the ageof ten, his
son David was sent to the grammar-school, under the tui-
tion of Mr Hunter ; but he does not seem to have displayed
any early disposition for study. He very soon, however,
discovered a turn for niimickry ; and imbibed a relish for
theatrical performances from the strolling players who oc-
casionally viaited Litchfield. Having engaged a set of his
scliool-fellows to undertake their several paitsina comedy,
he exhibited the Recruilmg Officer before a select audience,
in the year 1727. Garrick was then eleven years old; he
performed the character of Serjeant Kile, and is said to
have acquitted himself with great humour.

In the year 1729 or 1730, Garrick was sent out to his
uncle, a thriving wine-merchant at Lisbon ; but being found
too volatile for a counting-house, he returned home in the
following year. He was once more placed under the care
of Mr Hunter; but his vivacity was still superior to serious
application. In 1735, the celebrated Samuel Johnson, a
native of Litchfield, formed the design of opening an aca-
demy for classical education, in which he was encouraged
by Mr Gilbert Walmsley, register of the ecclesiastical
court, a gentleman of most respectable character and at-
tainments, and a generous patron of genius. Garrick, at
that time turned of eighteen, was, with several other young
men, consigned to the care of Johnson, and began to apply,
with some diligence, to the study of the classics. At the
end of twelve months, however, the master grew tired of
his undertaking, and resolved to abandon it altogether.
Soon afterwards, Johnson and Garrick, having become wea-
ry of the contracted sphere of a country town, and desirous
of trying their fortune in a more extensive field, determin-
ed on an expedition to the metropolis.

These two friends, who were destined to attain a high
degree of celebrity in their separate walks, accordingly set
out from Litchfield on the 2d of March 1737, provided with
letters of recommendation from Mr Walmsley to Mr Col-
son, a celebrated mathematician, at that time master of the
school at Rochester. It was intended that Garrick should
place himself under the tuition of Mr Colson ; but he seems
to have relinquished that intention upon his arrival in Lon-
don. On the 9th of March 1737, he was entered a student
of Lincoln's Inn ; but the state of his finances did not enable
him to pursue his profession. About the end of that year,
his uncle arrived from Lisbon, with the intention of settling
in London ; but his design was frustrated by a fit of illness,
which in a short time put an end to his life. He left bis ne-

GARRICK.

573

phew David 100o;.;aiul upon this event, Gurrick repaii'ed
to Rochester, and remained several months under tlic tui-
tion of Mr Colson. During his stay at Roclicslci-, his i';i-
ther died of a lingering illness ; and his mother did not sur-
vive her hushand above a year. Ciurrick now took his
leave of Mr Colson, and returned to t!ic metropolis. His
eldest brother, Peter, had commenced business as a wine-
merchant, and in 173S David was induced to enter into
partnership with him. This gave occasion to the saying:
of the facetious Samuel Foote, " that he remembered Gar-
rick living in Durham-yard, witli three quarts of vinegar
in the cellar, calling himself a wine-merchant." It is cer-
tain, however, that his business was upon a scale rather
more extensive ; and his situation, in the neighbourhood of
the two play-houses, gave him an opportunity of becoming
acquainted with tlie actors of the time, and confirmed his
previous inclination for the theatrical profession.

To that career Gariick now determined to devote him-
self: and the low state of the stage, at this period, seemed
to present ample scope for the exercise of his genius.
Quin and Macklin were the only male performers of dis-
tinguished reputation, and even their excellence was con-
fined within the limits of a few particular characters. Mrs
Pritchard, Mrs VVotlington, and Mrs Clive, shone in come-
dy. But with these few exceptions, truth and nature seem-
ed to be banished from scenic representation. Comedy was
reduced to mere farce and buffoonery ; while in tragedy, vi-
olent rant and whining declamation were deemed the only
just expression of passion and sentiment. Garrick per-
ceived these defects in the style of theatrical exhibition;
but ne flattered himself that he should be able to revive a
better taste, and to succeed by the truth of imitation. In
the beginning of the year 1740, he dissolved partnership
with his brother, and passed the remainder of the year in
preparation for his great design; studying, wiih all his at-
tention, the best characters of Shakespeare, and of our most
esteemed comic writers. Having consulted his friend Mr
GifTard, who was manager of tlie theatre in Goodman's
Fields, he determined, by his advice, to make an experi-
7nent of himself at a country theatre. Accordingly, they
both set out for Ipswich, where, in the summer of 1741,
there was a regular company of comedians. Garrick's
diflidence was still so great, that he assumed the name
Lyddal; and to prevent every chance of discovery, he chose,
for his first appearance, the character oi Aboan in the tra-
gedy of Oroonoko. His reception, however, was such, that,
in a few days, he ventured to throw off his black complex-
ion, and shew himself in the part of Chamont in the Orphan.
He afterwards displayed his powers in comedy, and with
the same success. Not only the inhabitants of the town,
but the gentlemen all round the country, went in crowds
to see the new performer ; and thus Ipswich had the ho-
nour of having first discovered and patronised the genius
of a young actor, who soon afterwards became the brilliant
ornament of the English stage, and the first comedian of
the age in which he lived.

Garrick returned to town before the end of the summer,
and resolved, in the course of the following winter, to pre-
sent himself before a London audience. With this view he
offered his services, first to Fleetwood, and afterwards to
Rich, the managers of Drury Lane and Covent Garden ;
but was rejected by both. He then applied to his friend
Giffard, and agreed to act under his management, at a sa-
lary of five pounds a week. The part he chose for his first
appearance in the metropolis, was that of Richard III.
which he performed at Goodman's Fields, on the 19tn of
October 1741, in a style so new, so natural, and so impres-
sive, as secured for him a most abundant harvest of ap-
plause. His fame quickly spread over the metropolis ; and

the ])ublic rushed in crowds to sec a young performer, wlio
burst forth at once a complete master of his art. The
most elegant company flocked to Goodman's Fields; the
celebrated Mr Pope was drawn from his retreat at Twick-
enham ; and Lord Orrery is reported to have been so much
struck wiiii the peiformance, that he said, " I am afraid the
young iiuin will be spoiled, for he will have no competi-
tor." In tlie course of the season, Garrick appeared in a
variety of characters ; in Lothario., Chamont., Sharfi in his
own farce of the Lying Valet, Lord Foji/iington, Cafitaia
Plume, and Daycs in the Rehearsal. In this last charac-
ter, he seized the opportunity of making keen and power-
ful strictures on the prevailing taste in dramatic composi-
tion ; and availed himself of his wonderful powers of
mimickry in taking off" the most eminent performers of the
time.

The unparalleled success which had hitherto attended
all his efforts, induced Garrick to attempt a nobler flight,
and to aspire to the first character in tragedy, by repre-
senting the diflicult part of King Lear. Never was his
genius more con ,jicuously displayed, than in his portrai-
ture of the madness of that unfortunate monarch; it was,
perhaps, the most accurate and impressive imitation of na-
ture that was ever exhibited to the view of a theatrical au-
dience. With that wonderful versatility of powers, for
which he was so eminently distinguished, he descended
from that first character in tragedy, to the farcical part of
Abel Drugger, and represented the tobacco-boy in the
truest style of comic humour. Hogarth, the famous paint-
er, saw iiim in Richard III., and on the following night in
Abel D rugger ; he was so struck with the various powers
of the pertbrruer, that he said to Garrick, " You are in your
element, when you are begrimed with dirt, or up to your
elbows in blood."

Meanwhile the theatres of Drury-Lane and Covent-Gar-
den were almost deserted ; and the actors beheld with jea-
lousy the rapid and unprecedented success of the new per-
former. Quin said, in his sarcastic manner, " This is the
wonder of a day; Garrick is a new religion; the people
follow him as another Whitfield, but they" will soon return
to church again." The joke was relished, and soon spread
through the town. Garrick thought it required an an-<
swer, and replied in the following epigram

Pope Qvis, who cLimns all churches but his own.
Complains that heresy infests the town ;
That Whitfield Gauuick has misled the ag-e,
And taints the sound religion of the stag'e ;
He says, that schism has turn'd the nation's brain,
But eyes will ojjen, and to church again.
Thou Grand Infallible! forbear to roar,
Thy bulls and errors are revered no more.
When doctrines meet with general approbatioiij
It is not Heresy, but Reformation.

About this time, Garrick produced the farce of Lethe,
in which he acted three different characters; and in the
month of May 1741, he closed the season at Goodman's
Fields, after a career of the most brilliant success. In the
beginning of June he repaired to Ireland, in consequence
of proposals on the part of the managers of the Dublin
theatre, inviting him to perform with them during the
summer months. He there performed his various comic
and tragic characters to astonished and delighted audiences,
and received the same applause that had been bestowed
upon him in London. Towards the beginning of August
he returned to England.

Garrick's reputation, as an actor of first rate excellence,
was now completely established; in so much that Fleet-
wood, the manager of Drury Lane, now solicited those ser-
vices which he had formerly rejected wiUi disdain. He ac-

574

GAERICK.

cordin^'y opened a ncgocialion with Gairick; and the
treaty Uiis soon concluded on a salary of 500/., wliicli was
iTiore than had ever hccn given Iiefore. Ganick continued
to perform at Drury Lane durinq; three successive seasons,
I gradually augmenting his list of characters, by reviving
the masterpieces of our great dramatic poet Shakspeare.
Ilamkt, Macbeth, King John y and 0//;f//o, were successive-
ly Inought forward, and exhibited in a style of varied ex-
cellence, which no actor before his time had been able to
attain. Among the numerous merits of Garrick, it ought
not to be reckoned the least, that by the correctness of his
taste, and the charms of his acting, he contributed to re-
store our old standard plays to their just rank on the stage,
and excited a relish in the public for the works of that great
author, wliose sublime conceptions of character, and pro-
found knowledge of the most minute springs of human ac-
tion, have elevated him to the highest seat among ancient
and modern poets.

Towards the end of the year 1745, Garrick went over to
Ireland, having received an invitation from Sheridan to be
joint manager of the Dublin theatre for the season. On
his return to England, in May 1746, he was offered advan-
tageous terms by Rich, the manager of Covent Garden,
who proposed, as a further inducement, to open his play-
house, which was then shut, for six nights, upon an equal
share of the profits. Garrick accepted, and played his ca-
pital parts with great success. He was also engaged for
the ensuing season at the same theatre. Early in January
1747, he produced his farce of Miss in her Teens, which
was extremely well received, and when, in the course of
this season, Dr Hoadlcy's excellent comedy of the Suspi-
cious Husband was brought forward, Garrick provided the
prologue and epilogue.

The following season, Garrick attained the great object
of his wishes, by becoming joint-patentee with Mr Lacy of
the Drury Lane theatre. At the opening of the theatre, on
the SOth September 1747, he spoke an occasional prologue,
written by his friend Dr Johnson, in a style superior to
every thing of the kind in the English langiiage, if we ex-
cept, perhaps, Pope's prologue to (he tragedy of Cato.
Durin.g several years, Garrick continued to devote himself,
with unremittin.g zeal and assiduity, to the concerns of the
theatre, bringing forward new productions of merit, reviv-
ing the neglected plays of Shakspeare, Otway, and our
best dramatic writers, occasionally diversifying the mode
of entertainment by the exhibition of pantoiiiines, and con-
tinually delighting the public by the display of his own
great powers. In the month of July 1749, Garrick enter-
ed on a new scene of life, by marrying the fair Violetti, a
native of Vienna, who had chosen to adopt an Italian name.
She had an elegant figure, and was much admired as a
dancer. She was patronized by Lord and Lady Burling-
ton, who, it was generally understood, gave her a fortune
of six thousand pounds. In the summer of 1753, he form-
ed a design to visit the continent, having been told by his
physicians that he stood in need of air and exercise, and
that Mrs Garrick's health would receive benefit from the
v.'aters of Barrege. Accordingly, he set out for Dover on
the I5th September, leaving his brother George, as his
substitute, to act for him in concert with Mr Lacy. Du-
ring his absence, the affairs of the theatre continued to be
managed with considerable profit ; but the public longed
for the return of their favourite performer. Garrick and
his lady arHved in London about the end of April 1765.
The news was announced in the papers, and was received
with joy by the town. He did not act, however, during
the remainder of the season, which ended, as usual, in the
tiionth of June. On the 14th of November 1765, his ma-
jesty, alter opening the session of parliament, commanded,

for his evening entertainment, the comedy of Much ado
about Js'oiliing. This called forth Garrick from his retreat.
He came prepared with an address to the audience, and
was received with loud acclamations of joy and approba-
tion. From this period he continued to appear occasional-
ly in his best characters, and to conduct the affairs of the
theatre with the same spirit and success as he had formerly
done.

In the month of March 1773, Garrick lost an able coad-
jutor by the death of Mr Lacy, the joint-patentee of Drury-
Lane. The whole burden of management now fell upon
him, at a time when his inhrmities rendered him unequal
to the task. He therefore appeared as seldom as possible
in the laborious parts of tragedy ; but still continued to
perform his favourite comic characters. In the beginning
of the year 1776, he formed the resolution of retiring from
the stage, and this intention was first intimated to the pub-
lic in the prologue which he wrote to Mr Colman's farce,
called The Sjilcen, or Islington S/iaw. After describing
a tradesman, who quits his business to enjoy the air of Is-
lington, he adds,

The master of this shop too seeks repose,

Sells off liis stock in trade, his vei-se and prose.

His daggers, buskins, thunder, lightning, and old clothes.

On the 10th of June, he made his last public appearance.
For some time he proposed to finish his theatrical career
with the part in whicli he at first set out; but he thought
that after the fatigue of so laborious a character as that of
Jiichard III. it would be out of his power to utter a fare-
well address to the audience, and he therefore chose the
part oi' Don Felix, in the comedy of ?/;e Wonder, The pro-
fits of the night were assigned to the fiuid for the relief of
those who should be obliged by their infirmities to retire
from the stage. After the play he came forward and ad-
dressed the audience in a few words, which he uttered in a
manner that sufficiently indicated the feelings which agi-
tated his mind. He then bowed respectfully to all parts
of the house, and in a slow pace, and with much hesita-
tion, withdrew for ever froin the scene of his well-earned
fame, amidst the regret of all those who knew how to ap-
preciate his unrivalled genius.

Garrick now retired to his villa at Hampton, resolved
to pass the evening of his life in peace and rural tranquil-
lity. Here he enjoyed the occasional society of a nume-
rous circle of friends. He lived in an ele.gant style, and
to the luxuries of the table added the charms of his conver-
sation, and the polished manners of one who had enjoyed
the best company. During the year 1778, his former com-
plaints returned with increased violence. But liis courage
had not deserted him ; and he endeavoured to conceal his
sufferings by assuming an air of gaiely. He was invited
to pass the Christmas of that year at Altrop Park, the seat
of Earl Spencer, in Northamptonshire; but his enjoyment
of that party was soon interrupted by a violent attack of
his inveterate disorder. He arrived at his house in the
Adclphi on the 15th of January 1779. Medical aid was
found to be in vain. During the last four or five days he
suffered excruciating pain with great fortitude, and on the
20th of January, at eiijht in the morning, he expiied with-
out a groan. On the 1st of February his remains were
conveyed from the Adelphi to Westminster Abbey, and
deposited in Poet's Corner, near the monument of Shak-
speare. The funeral was magnificent; it was aliended by
many noblemen and gentlemen of rank and fashion, and by
almost all the admirers of polite literature. Tiie train of
carriages reached from CharingCross to the Al)bey. A '
prodigious concourse of people lined the way, and by their

GAR

Tiiournful silence gave the most evident demonstralioii of
their sorrow. A haiulsome nionuniciu w;ts erected to tlie
memory ol" Garrick by tlie late Mr Albany Wallis, at his
own expence.

Garrick's stature did not rise above the middle size ;
his frame was delicate ; his limbs well proportioned ; his
countenance animated ; his voice clear, flexible, and melo-
dious; and his eyes were remarkably keen and penetrat-
ing. In private life he was greatly esteemed for his amia-
ble dispositions, as well as on account of his various ac-
complishments and agreeable manners. He had a fine flow
of animal spirits, and a great share of wit and humour; he
delighted in polite and liberal conversation, but generally
avoided the discussion of political topics. In the outset of
life, when his means were slender, he was a sirict obser-
ver of economy, and his enemies gave it the name of ava-
rice; but as soon as his circumstances would afford it,
he was distinguished by hospitality and munificence. He
loved his friends, and his purse was often at their service.
To merit in distress his benevolence was sure to be ex-
tended. Dr Johnson has been often heard to say, that when
he saw a worthy family in distress, it was his custom to
collect charity among such of his friends as he knew to be
in a state of affluence ; and, on those occasions, he receiv-
ed from Garrick more than from any other person, and al-
ways more than he expected. He was tremblingly alive
to his professional reputation, and his anxiety upon this
subject sometimes betrayed him into strange revolutions
of temper. However, he had a quick discernment of me-
rit in others, and was ever ready to acknowledge and re-
ward it.

As an actor, Garrick burst forth at once in a style of un-
rivalled excellence, and continued, during tlie whole course
of his career, to stand at the very summit of his profession.
It is impossible for us to convey a just notion of the strik-
ing effects of his performance, or to do justice to his va-
rious merit. Those traits of excellence, by which an ac-
tor draws forth the adiniralion of his contemporaries, are
unsubstantial and evanescent ; and leave nothing beliind
from which an adequate judgment can be formed by pos-
terity. As Mr Sheridan has said, in the language alike of
truili and poetry, —

" Tlie p-ace of .iction, the .idaptcd mien,

Faillit'ul as nature to the varied scene ;

Th' expressive g-Iance, wliobe subtle conriir.enl draws

Entranc'd attention and a mute applaiisc j

(xesture that marks, with force and fcehng fraugiit,

A sense in silence, and a will in thought ;

Harmonious speech, whose pure andlitjuid tone

Ciives verse a music, scarce confcssM its own ;

As light from gems assumes a brig-l.ter ray,

And, dock'd with orient hues, transcends the day !

Passions wild break, and frown that awes the sense,

Andev'ry charm of gentler eionuencc,

All perishable! — like the electric fire.

But strike the frame, and, as they strike, expire ;

Incense too pure a bodied flame'lo bear,

lis fragrance charms the sense, and blends with air."

Jilunady to the Memorv of Garrick.

We are therefore left to form a faint idea of his talents,
from the testimony of those who were eye-witnesses of his
performance. To a quick and just conception of the pe-
culiarities of every character, he added a wonderful power
of adapting his looks and gestures to the circumstances
and situation of the person represented. If we may be al-
lowed the expression, his very silence spoke; his counte-
nance was itself a language. Before he uttered a single
word, the varying passions visibly began to work, and
wrought such rapid changes in his features, in his action,
his attitudes, and the expression of his eye, that he was al-

GAU

575

most every raoment a new man. His talents were versatile
as they were powerful ; and he was equally sure of attain-
ing his object, whether his aim was to excite terror or pity,
or to raise laughter. It was one great excellence of his
acting, that he constantly held in remembrance the cha-
racter he played, throughout all its various stages. No
situation of it whatever was neglected; nor was he ever,
for a moment, inattentive to the business before him. IJy
his extreme earnestness to appear always what he ought to
be, he obtained complete possession of his audience, aiid
roused them to a correspondent approbation of his action.

As an author, Garrick has displayed no contemptible
powers. He was not, indeed, an author by profession ; tlie
duties of his situation engrossed too much of his time to
permit him to apply regularly to literary composition. Hut
the comedy of The Clandestine Marriage, his farces, and
poetical pieces, sufficiently shew that he wanted leisure,
rather than wit or genius, to have enabled him to produce
works of greater value. See Davies' Mejuoirs of the Life
of Garrick ; and T/ie Life of Garrick, by Murphy. (:)

GARSl'ANG, is a market and corporate town of Eng-
land in Lancasliirc, situated in the hundred of AmoundeV-
ness, on the great west road from Edinburgh to London. It
stands on the western bank of the river Wyer, which runs
parallel to the east side of the principal street, supplying the
town with excellent water, and fish of different kinds.

The town, which is irregularly built, contains a few good
houses. The church is a large Gothic structure, which
stands about a mile to the south of the town. It possesses
no manufactory; but there are several in the neighbour-
hood, viz. a printing cotton and calico manufactory at Cat-
tcral, and spinning manufactories at Seaton, Dolphinholm,
and Calston. Number of houses 62. Population 73 1. See
Beauties of England and IVales, vol ix. p. 1 13.

GARTER, Order of the, is a military order, which
was instituted in 1 344 by King Edward HI. under the title
of" Sovereign and Knight's Companions of the most noble
order of the Garter." See Heualduy.

GARTH, Sir Samuel, an English poet and physician,
was descended of a good family in Yorkshire, and received
his academical education at Peterhouse College, Cam-
bi idge, where he took his degree of Doctor of Medicine on
the 7th July 1691.

On the s'eth June 1692, he was admitted a fellow of the
College of Physicians; and in 1694, he published his Z)/«.
pensanj, a mock heroic poem, in which he ridiculed the
company of apothecaries, and some of tlie members of the
College of Physicians, who had opposed the establishment
of a dispensary for supplying the poor with medicines and
graliiitous advice. The" Dispensary," which is an obvi-
ous imitation of Boileau's Lutrin, went through three edi-
tions, and, aftei receiving successive improvements from the
hands of the author, it has enrolled his name in the second
class of British poets. In 1697, Garth pronounced the
Ilarveian oration before the College of Physicians. It was
immediately published, and was regarded as a good speci-
men of oiatory. Dr Garth pronounced a Latin eloge over
the remains of Dryden. He addressed some complimen-
tary verses to Lord Godolphin, on his dismissal iij 1710.
He lamented, in a complimentary poem, the exile of the
Duke of Marlborough; and in 1711 he displayed his at-
tachment to the family of Hanover, by the dedication of an
intended edition of Lucretius to the Elector, afterwards
George I. The gratitude of this prince was shewn upon
his accession to the throne, by conferring the honour of
knighthood upon Garth, which was done by the sword of the
Duke ol Marlborough. Soon afterwards he was appoint^
ed physician in ordinary to the king, and physician-general
to the army ; but he did not long enjoy these distinguished

576

GAS LIGHTS.

honours. After a sliort illness, he died in January 1719,
and was interred at Harrow in Middlesex, on the 22d of
that month.

GAUUM, is a name which has been applied by medical
■writers to a pickle, in which fish had been preserved. Tlie
garum of the ancients was greatly esteemed as a delicacy
at their tables.

GAS, is a name which was given by Van Helmont to
aeriform or elastic fluids. See Cukmistuy, and Gases.

GAS Lights, is the name given lo the ariificidi light
produced by the combustion of ii)llanimuble gases, obtain-
ed from the destructive distillation of pit-coal, and several
other combustible bodies.

The late Mr VV. Nicholson has very properly observed,
that during the combustion of oil, tallow, wax, 8cc. in pro-
ducing light, the same change lakes place among their
respective elements, which would have been produced by
subjecting them lo destructive distillation, the inflamma-
ble gas being the substance furnishing the light which they
afford. The only difference, therefore, between the light
of candles, lamps, kc. and the gas lights, is, that in the
former the decomposition of the substance, «nd the conse-
quent evolution of the inflammable gas, is effected by ils
own heat. In the gas lights, the decomposition is effected
in a close vessel by a separate tire ; and the gas given out,
after being washed, is conducted to a reservoir, from
whence it is drawn thruugli small apertures, where it is set
on fire. In candles and lamps, the inflammable gas, which
is the source of the light, is more or less accompanied with
smoke, which, if not burnt, produces a cloudy yellow flame.
In the Argand lamp, where the supply of oxygen is great,
the smoke is burnt, which of itself furnishes some light ;
but the brilliant light is more to be attributed lo the pu-
rity of the inflammable gas after the cloudy matter is re-
moved.

All substances, whether animal, vegetable, or mineral,
consisting of such proportions of hydrogen and carbon as
to furnish the inflammable gases, are capable of furnishing
artificial light by decomposition. The gases produced in
the operation are carburetled hydrogen, oiefiant gas, and in
sonae cases carbonic oxide and pure hydrogen.

We are indebted to Dr Henry for some valuable facts,
derived from his experiments, upon several bodies afl'ord-
ing inflammable gas by destructive distillation. The fol-
lowing is a small Table from his paper, exhibiting the re-
lative value of the gases from different substances in pro-
ducing light.

100 Measures of

Requires of

oxyf;en for its
consumption

Producing
of carbonit
acid ^

Pure hydrogen gas

Gas by heating moist charcoal

from dried peat

from oak wood

from cannel coal

from lamp oil

— — ^ from wax

50
60
68
54

iro

190

220
284

33
43
33
KjO
124
137
179

Pure olefiantgas

It is found, as we should naturally infer, that the quantity
of light furnished is as the quantity of oxygen required to
consume the gas. The carbonic oxide, which is already
half saturated with oxygen, produces the least light, while
the defiant gas, as will be observed in the Table, requires
the most. The gas from moist charcoal contains about 78

percent. l)y weight of carbonic oxide, the rest being prin-
cipally hydrogen. On this calculation, liie specific gravi-
ty of this gas comes out 6, hydrogen being 1. lis specific
gravity by experiment, according to Cruickshank, is 5.4.
Tliose from oak-v/ood and dried peat piobably differ but
little from the latter. This, however, might be ascertain-
ed nearly, if we knew their specific gravities. Tiie gas
from cannel coal, when purified in the manner heriaflcrto
be directed, consists almost wholly of caiburetted hydro-
gen. Its specific gravity, derived bi calculation from Dr
Henry's table, is 6.5. Carburetled hydrogen, on the au-
thority of Mr Dalton, is 7.5, hydi'ogen being 1. If Dr
Henry's experiment be correct, and 7.5 be the true speci-
fic gravity of carburetled hydrogen, then the cannel coal
gas must contain free hydrogen, from its specific gravity
being less than that of carburetled hydiogen The car-
bonic oxide, sulphuretted hydrogen, and sulphurous acid,
which the coal gas will contain, if not purified, would con-
tribute lo increase the specific gravity.

defiant gas produces the most brilliant light of any other
gas, which is lo be attributed to ils consisting entirely of
hydrogen and carbon, and its great specific gravity. The
gases from the distillation of lamp oil and wax, in the way
the coal is distilled, will be seen in the table to exceed the
coal gas; and tliat from wax nearly approaches the olefiant
gas in the consumption of oxygen, and in the property of
producing light. The substances, however, affording ole-
fiant gas are too expensive to be applied to the production
of light by the process used for obtaining coal gas.

When the Lavoiserian theory was first advanced, it was
generally thought that the light and heat were furnished by
the oxygen : hence, whatever might be the combustible
body, the greatest light and heat would be produced, the
greater the quantity of oxygen which entered into combi-
nation in a given lime ; and the intensity inversely as the
space in whicli the combustion look place. It has since
been held, and with good reason, that the inflammable body
also contributes light and heat.

There does not appear to be any just theory of the pro-
duction of light and heal by combustion, but that founded
on the change of specific heat between the materials of
combustion and the body resulting from the combustion.
We cannot, however, expect to derive much practical be-
nefit from such a theory, till we are in possession of a cor-
rect table of the specific heat of bodies.

Since chemists are sufficiently acquainted with four in-
flammable gases to obtain them in a slate of purity, name-
ly, hydrogen, carburetled hydrogen, carbonic oxide, and
olefiant gas, we might, by a few experiments, get some
idea of the relative quantities of light afforded by carbon
and hydrogen. If we suppose these gases to consist of pure
hydrogen, and still retaining their respective densities, the:>
the intensity and quantity of light would be directly as their
densities. In as much, therefore, as their light differs
from the ratios of their densities, may be attributed the re-
lative quantities of light afforded by the bodies of which
they are composed.

Two small gazometers will be necessary for these ex-
periments, the one to contain hydrogen gas, and the other
the inflammable gas to be compared with it. Let the pres-
sure of each be exactly the same, and let the gas from each
pass through exactly the same sized aperture, at the time
it is burnt. The flames must now be compared with each
other, by making shadows in them fall upon a white sur-
face; then remove the strongest light backward, till the
shadows are of the same intensity. The squares of the
distances of the flames, from their respective shadows,
will express the ratio of the illuminating powers of the twa
flames. If, for instance, hydrogen were compared with

GAS LIGHTS.

577

olefiant gas, and if the carbon of the latter gas contributed
as much to the illumination as the hydrogen, then the ra-
tio of the squares of the disiaiices of the llanies from the
shadows, when the shadows were of the same intensity,
would be as 1 to 11.85. If, howcver,the flame of the de-
fiant gas will not require to be shifted so far back, in order
to make the shadows equal, then it will show that the car-
bon of this gas has not afforded the same light as so much
liydrogen would have done. If now the comparison be
made between hydrogen and carburcttcd hydrogen, the
ratio of the squares of the distances, if the latter gas were
all hydrogen, would be as 1 to 7.5. But the distance of the
flame of the carburcttcd hydrogen gas will probably fall
short of the .y/7.5, owing to the carbon it contains ; but it
contains a less proportion of carbon on the whole than
olefiant gas, and therefore ought to produce more light, in
proportion to its density, than olefiant gas. In these in-
stances we have presumed, and with good ground, that a
given weight of liydrogen, in its combination with oxygen,
aff"ords more light and heat than any other inflammable bo-
dy. In these and all other instances of combustion, the ab-
solute quantity of light and heat will be the same, whatever
may be the density of the combustible body and the oxygen;
but the intensity may be much increased by diminishing
the time of burning the same quantity of matter, and the
space in which the combustion takes place. Hence we ac-
cumulate liglu and heat by means of bellows, and other
means of furnishing oxygen, with great facility. We
should also get a proportionate effect by increasing the
density of the oxygen. If hydrogen and oxygen were in-
creased in their density by artificial pressure, and present-
ed to each other for combustion, the intensity of the light
and heat would be in the complicate ratio of their increas-
ed density. If each were compressed into half the space,
then the effect of their combustion would be four times the
intensity of that in their natural state. In this way much
greater intensity of both light and heat may be produced
than we have hitherto heard of. The carburetted hydrogen
■would much exceed olefiant gas in producing light, if its
density were equal to the latter gas, because it contains
■more hydrogen than olefiant gas. And if pure hydrogen
were of the density of olefiant gas, the intensity of its light
■would be nearly twelve times greater than when burnt in
its ordinary state, and it would be to olefiant gas as about
7 to 3.

Cannel coal, and the most bituminous of the Newcastle
coal, and many others in the country, when exposed to dis-
tillation at a red heat, furnish several gaseous products, the
principal part of which is the carburetted hydrogen, a quan-
tity of tar, and an aqueous fluid charged with carbonate of
ammonia. The separation of the carburetted hydrogen,
which when pure burns with great brightness, and without
smell, is now effected with great success, on the largest
scale, and the other products, part of which have only been
applied to useful purposes, will in time find beneficial
sources of consumption.

We shall decline entering miiiutely into the history of
the discovery and progress of the art of lighting witli gas.
With respect to the discovery, it would be difficult to fix
any period to it, or with justice to give it to any particular
person. Dr Hales and others, among their iiumerous ex-
periments in obtaining gases from different bodies by heat,
cannot have failed to witness the perseverance of their in-
flammability.

An account will be found in the Philoso/ihical Transac-
tions, vol xli. of some experiments upon the distillation of
coal by Dr Clayton. He collected the gas in bladders, and
burnt it. In Lord Dundonald's attempts to extract tar from
coal, the gas evolved at the time was fired. It is singular

Vol. IXv Part II.

to remark, that coal is now distilled for its gas and coak,
the tar being of no value ; and that this invaluable substance
should have been the only thing which his Lordship sought
for. We do not hear of any attempt to apply the coal gas
to the economy of producing artifical light, before the ex-
periments of IMr Murdoch, made at Redruth, in Cornwall,
lie distilled coal and other inflammable bodies from an iron
retort, conveyed the gas to a distance through tinned cop-
per pipes, and burned it as it escaped through small aper-
tures. These experiments were made in the year 1792.
After leaving Cornwall, he resumed his experiments at
Old Cumnock in Ayrshire, iti 179 6, where he exhibited
the new phenomena to numerous friends. He after this,
in 1798, went to the Soho Foundery, where he constructed
an apparatus for lighting the building, in which he made
some improvements in the means of purifying the gas, to
get rid of the smell. In the spring of 1802, on the event
of the general peace, he made a grand display of these new
lights at the Soho works, which excited much curiosity.

Although Mr Murdoch was certainly not the first ob-
server of the inflammability of the coal gas, he may lay
just claim to the application of it to economical purposes;
and doubtless first pointed out the practical means of bring-
ing it into use. The manufactory of Messrs Lee and Phi-
lips of Manchester was lighted with gas, under the direc-
tion of Mr Murdoch, as early as 1805, which, in the pre-
.sent state of gas lighting, is considered as very complete.
At that period Mr Lee had his house lighted with the
gas.

Mr Clegg, late of Manchester, and originally with Boul-
ton and Watt of Soho, has given much attention to the sub-
ject of gas lights, and has contributed many useful im-
provements in the apparatus used for preparing it. He
has given a description, with the aid of a drawing of a gas
apparatus, to the Society for the encouragement of Arts
and Manufactures, which is published in their transactions
for 1808. This apparatus, with some few improvements,
is at present considered the best. As we shall describe
one embracing several improvements upon Mr Clegg's, it
will not, in this limited article, be possible to give a copy
of his in addition.

The apparatus generally consists of an iron retort of a
cylindrical form, its length being from seven to eight times
its diameter. It has an opening at one end, which can be
closed by a lid with a conical edge, and pushed up to its
place by a catch or wedge. The retort is placed horizon-
tally in a furnace, which allows the flame to pass under it
in the direction of its length, and over it on its return, after
which it enters the chimney.

The fire should be so intense as to be capable of heating
the retort to a bright red heat, and of keeping it up at the
same lime ; but should not be capal)le of heating it very
hot, as the retort itself might be melted, or at least much
injured, and the gas less perfect.

At some distance from the mouth of the retort, which
projects a little way beyond the brick work in front, a pipe
ascends from the upper side, and at light angles to the
length of the retort. Through this the gas escapes, as-
cending first, and then, the pipe turning, it descends into a
wide pipe, placed in a horizontal position. This last is
called the condenser. From the end of this pipe an in-
clining pipe proceeds, which conveys the gas, and also the
tar, after it has accumulated in the condenser, till this last
admits it to run off. The gas and tar now proceed together,
the former occupying the upper half of a longitudinal sec-
tion of the pipe, and the latter the lower half. The tar is
at length deposited in a vessel, from whence it can be
drawn at pleasure. The gas first ascends from the pipe
in which it was accompanied by the tar, and then descends

578

GAS LIGHTS.

into a vessel containiii!^ a mixture of lime and water, by
which it is purified. It then passes into an apparatus call-
ed a Gazometer. This consists of an outer vessel filled
with water. A second vessel, less in diameter, is invert-
ed and immersed into the first. If ilie common air be al-
lowed to escape from the inner vessel, it will freely descend,
and water will occupy the place of the air. If now tlie
source for the escape of air be stopped, and the inner ves-
sel counterpoised by a weiii^ht, the inflammable gas, puri-
fied as above, may be admitted under the inner vessel,
which will ascend to make room for the gas. The sus-
pended vessel is a little heavier than the weight, so that if
the force of the entering gas were withdrawn, and an open-
ing made to permit the air to escape, the vessel would de-
scend. This apparatus is not only a reservoir for the gas
while its production is going on, but it serves to force out
the gas to be burnt, with a gradual and uniform pressure,
wliich gives steadiness to the flame. Tlie gas is set on fire
when it is escaping through one or more small apertures,
about one thirtieth of an inch in diameter. These are some-
times disposed in a circle, aljout the size of the circular
wick of the Argand lamp, and hence have been called Ar-
gand burners. A glass is placed over them, similar to the
Argand lamp. The gas tube sometimes terminates in a
spherical head, perforated with different numbers of holes.
Before we proceed to enter into any particulars relative
to the practice of gas lights, we shall give a more minute
description of the apparatus, in reference to the Plate. Fig.
1. Plate CCLXIV. is a plan and section of the furnace
containing the retort. The latter is seen to more advan-
tage in the perspective view. In Fig. A, e e e are project-
ing pieces marked similarly in Fig. 1, for the retort to
rest in a horizontal position: fi is the place where the two
parts of the retort are screwed together. The front part
contains two ears t t. Fig. B is the lid or cover, having a
conical edge, which fits the mouth of the retort, and is forc-
ed into its place by a wedge Fig. C, which passes through
two holes in the ears t t ; s is a pipe, with a plunge to re-
ceive the pipe n, (Fig. 2.) being cast wit!) the front part of
the retort. The fire-place is shewn at m (Fig. 2.), d is
the door, g the grate, A the ash-pit, and/the flue. The
flame first passes along the flue under the retort, where it
reaches r, and rises to the upper side of the retort, and
passes, in the direction of the returning darts, into the
chimney C. The separation of the lower half of the flue
from the upper is seen in Fig. 3. at//; bb are long fire-
bricks, which separate the fire place from the bottom of
the retort ; this prevents the immediate action of the flame
upon the retort, which would soon destroy it. The retort,
notwithstanding this apparent power, ultimately receives
the whole of the heat without being liable to oxidation.
■\Vhen the retort is charged, and the lid secured, the gas
and the other volatile products rise through the pipes s and
?;, and enter the large pipe c , which is called the conden-
ser; see Fig. 7. A portion of the tar, &;c. condenses in
this vessel, till it rises to the level of the pipe 2, along wliich
the gas and tar descend through a succession of pipes, pass-
ji!g round the inside of the vessel AB, which is filled with
cold water. This vessel is square, so that the pipes pass-
ing along its sides are of equal length. They are so in-
clined to the horizon, as to come to the point -v when they
have passed quite lound the vessel. The pipe t; jr now
brings it out at the point x. This pipe continues its direc-
tion iiito the vessel, Fig. 6. which cannot be seen in the
profile, Fig. 7. The gaseous products rise up the pipe/;.
Fig. 7. and then descending, terminates in the vessel L ;
the plan of which is Fig. 5. The tar and ammoniacal li-
quor condense in the vessel, Fig. 6. which is called the
tar vessel. It is made perfectly air tight, and its contents

are drawn off at an aperture on a level with the bottom, so
that no air can escape till the whole of the liquid is dis-
charged. We now return to the gaseous products, which
enter the vessel L ; and in order tlie better to see how they
are disposed of, it will first be necessary to describe its
office. The vessel in Fig. 7. is a reservoir to contain a
mixture of lime and water, for the purpose of supplying
the vessel L. The vessel m is of a limited depth, in order
just to supply the vessel L to a certain height. The trans-
fer from m to L is made by means of the pipe /;, by draw-
ing out the plug s. As soon as the vessel L has received
its proper quantity, the plug is replaced. The gas enters
at 0. The lime water, which now stands at the level of
the top of the vessel ?«, is pressed down to the point d.
The same quantity, rising along the passage d e/g, reaches
to the point g. The gas now enters at d, and passes to e,
then returning, ascends to.^ from whence it rises up to g,
where it enters the pipe b c, and the larger pipe /, which
surrounds b c. The pipe / is closed at the top, but below
the height / it is perforated with a number of holes. The
vessel AB is filled with water up to the lower extremity of
the vessel D. When the gas has passed out at the top of
b c, it displaces the water in /, which is on a level with that
in AB, till it sinks to I. It now escapes at the holes above
mentioned, and bubbles through the water. In this state
it is preserved in the gazometer, and is fit for burning. The
gazometer we shall now explain more particularly. It may
be first proper to return to the lime vessel L. The cavity
d e/ g is formed by six plates of iron, lead, or wood, of
the width of the vessel L, arranged in pairs parallel to each
other, forming cells, which contain a stratum of fluid three
inches thick, fifteen inches wide, and of a length equal to
d e added to e / added to/g. This cavity, and the space
L, constitute the whole of the capacity of this vessel, which
is etrployed for the liquid, the rest being shut out by the
partition 3 d, and the plates forming the zig-zag cavity.
The gazometer, which receives the gas after it has been
purified by the lime water, consists of an outer vessel AB
filled with water. It is made of cast iron plates screwed
together by flanges. D is a vessel made of plate iron, the
l>]ales being united by rivets. This vessel, in an inverted
position, falls and rises in the outer vessel as more or less
gas is contained in it. For this purpose it is suspended by
chains, which pass over the pullies 1,2. The ends of both
these chains are fastened in separate grooves in the edge
of the pulley M, which is of such a diameter that the ves-
sel D rises to its full height before the pulley makes one
revolution. In another groove in the edge of the pulley M,
is fastened the end of a second chain, to which the weight
W is suspended. This weight is nearly equal to the
weight of the vessel D, and assists it in rising as the gas
comes under it. It will be evident, that when the whole
of the vessel D is immersed in the water, it will become
as much lighter as is equal to its own bulk of water. The
vessel will therefore require a greater counterpoise as it
rises higher, and will be the heaviest when it is at the top.
This is compensated by forming the groove in tlie pulley
RI, which contains the weight chain, so as to make the radii
of the wheel change reciprocally with the relative weight of
the vessel D, by v.-hich tf.e pressure of this vessel, which
is always a little heavier than the weight, will be uniform
in every part of its ascent and descent. Before the gas can
be admitted, the vessel D is allowed to descend to the bot-
tom of the vessel AB, which is effected by opening the stop
cock y in the pipe zgy, which opens into the gazometer
aliove the water. The common air is expelled, and its
place occupied by water. The cock y is now shut, and
the gazometer is ready to receive the gas.

We have already traced the progress of the gas to the

GAS LIGHTS.

579

lime vessel, where it is purified. It now rises through the
pipe be, as has been already described. When llie cock
y is opened, the preponderating weight of the vessel D
I'orces the gas along the pipe z r/ y, from which it is con-
veyed by other branches into situations where the light is
required. The pipes T and t are firmly inserted into tiie
top of the vessel D, and in their motion up and down con-
stantly envelope the tubes Oc and g z. They are for no
other purpose than keeping the vessel D steady in its as-
cent and descent. Tliat part of each projecting above the
vessel forms a recess for the reception of the ends of the
pipes b c and z q, in order that the mouths of the latter may
be above the water, when the roof of the vessel D comes
to the surface. Without this contrivance, the whole of the
common air at the commencement could not be expelled.
It will be easy to see, that, from improper management,
the gas may, under some circumstances, come over so ra-
pidly as to raise the vessel D quite to the top, and, still ac-
cumulating, would bubble out at the lower edge of the ves-
sel. Such gas mixing with the common air of the room,
would be liable to explode by the light of a candle ; indeed,
several serious accidents have already happened from this
cause. There are several ways of avoiding the danger at-
tendant on this circumstance, but the most effectual we
have yet seen, we shall explain by Fig. 8. AB is a sec-
tion of the outer vessel of the gazometer, D the inner ves-
sel, /I a pipe inserted in the top of the latter, open at both
ends ; the lower end being above the surface of the water,
while the vessel D remains a little immersed. The part
i c is a portion of a larger tube, with a bottom which is
perforated to receive the pipe /;, to which it is soldered, so
as to form a recess capable of holding water, and hence
has been called a water-lute. When another pipe, such as
/, has been placed in the recess filled with water, a gase-
ous fluid passing up /;, would be induced to pass through
y, if not resisted by a force less than the column of water
at the recess b c. It will now be evident, that if the tubey
be fixed in the roof of the building, and open at both ends,
when the vessel D rises till the recess 6 c receives the end
of the pipe /, that the lower end of /i will be' above the
water. The gas will therefore rise through /;, and pass
forward through y into the open air, and thus prevent its
escape into the room.

In carrying on the process, the water in the vessel AB
V ill frequently require to be changed, as well from being
contaminated with the remaining impurities of the gas, as
from becoming warm by the pipes from the retort passing
through it. Where water is very plentiful, it would be ad-
visable to have a constant current of warm water from the
top of the vessel, and a cold current in at the bottom. The
lime-water in the lime-vessel L, Fig. 7, will require chang-
ing much oftcner than in the vessel AB. Tlie sulphure-
ous acid, carbonic acid, and sulphuretted hydrogen, which
come with the carburetted hydrogen, are all taken up by
the lime, forming sulphate, carbonate, and hydrosulpluirtt
of lime. From this it will be obvious, that the lime will
ultimately be all consumed ; but it should be removed long
before it arrives at complete saturation. The mixture of
lime and water in the vessel m should be about the thick-
ness of cream, and hence has been called the errant of lime.
When the liquid in the vessel L requires to be changed,
the plug k is taken out, while the plug s is kept secure.
When the vessel L is emptied, the plug k is replaced, and
the plug s taken out. The fresh lime and water in m is
now transferred to L ; the proper quantity being as much
tis will run in till m remains full. It must be here observed,
that the vessel m is rather a measure with which to fill the
vessel L to a proper height, than a reservoir. It is hence

supposed to be supplied from a large cistern, in which the
cream of lime is prepared in considerable quantity.

When the gas has been carried through the jiipe z g tj,
and its dillercnt ramifications, to the places where it is
to be burnt, the passage terminates in a small apparatus,
called a burner, perforated willi one or more small holes,
about one-thirtieth of an inch in diameter. The most sim-
ple of these terminates in a spherical surface, as seen in
Fig. 9. There is one hole in the centre, and several others
around it. The surrounding holes, if it were not for the
upward current of air, would give flames, radiating in
straight lines from the centre of the spherical burner ; but
the upward motion of the heated air causes the flame to
curve upwards, like the spur of a game-cock, and hence
they have been technically called cocksfiur burners. Fig.
10. is a bracket, at the end of which is a burner, terminat-
ing in the face of a cylinder, near the outer edge of which
is a circular series of holes, from which the flame rises per-
pendicularly. These are surrounded by a glass like the
Argand lamp. In its general appearance it is so like this
lamp, as to have acquired the name of the Argand burner.
Figs. 11. and 12. are a plan and section of this burner upon
a larger scale. The holes in the inner circle, Fig. ll.aic
supplied with gas front the cavity C, Fig. 12 : The same
holes appear in section at a b, Fig. 12. The holes in the
outer circle. Fig. 11. communicate with the cavity <?/, Fig.
12. which also communicates with the atmosphere by the
openings i k ; gli is an ornamented rim for the reception of
the glass. The air from the glass becoming heated by the
flame, rises, and a current takes place from i k, through the
cavity c f, and between the burner and the glass. This
current in the Argand lamp is both within and without the
circular flame, and serves to supply the lamp with oxygen
for burning the smoke, as well as to keep the flame steady.
In the gas lights there is no smoke to burn : the current of
air, therefore, is not so essential. It has the good effect,
however, of keeping the flame steady, which othervdse
would be agitated by the slightest motion of the surround-
ing air. Fig. 10. shews the manner of bringing the gas to
supply a bracket-lamp fixed to the wail : The stop-cock a
is connected with the pipe behind the board c d, which also
communicates with the pipe b leading to the burner. Fig.
9. is provided with a similar plate to screw to the wall.
These brackets are capable of moving in a horizontal direc-
tion. The end of the tube b is ground into the little globe
s, so that it will turn round without allowing the air to
escape. Fig. 9. is similarly constructed. A great variety
of these ornamental brackets, chandeliers, candelabras, Sec.
will be found in Mr Accum's work upon gas-lights.

The apparatus above described is upon a small scale,
compared with what would be required for lighting a large
manufactory, or upon the scale practised for lighting the
streets and shops in the metropolis. The gazometer, lime-
vessel, and tar vessel, are all made of cast and wrought
iron, precisely in the same way that would be recommend-
ed upon the largest scale. It would be found impractica-
ble to increase the fire and the retort to the same extent to
which the other apparatus may be increased. It would be
improper to make a fire to heat a greater length than from
six to eight feet. And if the cavity of the retort were
more more than 12 inches wide, the coal would not be com-
pletely decomposed in the centre. It is found, therefore,
more advantageous when a greater supply of gas is want-
ed, than would be aflbrded by a vessel of the above dimen-
sions, to use additional retorts and fires, all communica-
ting with the same gazometer, lime-vessel, Sec. In Fig. 7.
there is but one furnace, but it may easily be supposed
tliat a scries of furnaces may join this on Uie left hand.
4 D 2

580

GAS LIGHTS.

Each retort liaving a tube n, tliey may all be connected
with one common pipe c, which is the condenser: to show
this, the pipe c in this ligure is broken off on the left hand.

When the vessel D is made very large, it requires to be
first formed in a skeleton of wrought or cast iron, and af-
terwards covered with iron plate.

It is strongly advised, where it is practicable, that the
retorts should be kept in constant action night and day for
the season, or at least never allowed to go below a red heat.
The first portion of oxide which forms upon the surface,
when allowed to cool, cracks and falls off, leaving a new
surface to be acted upon the next time it is heated. By
thus being every day heated and cooled, a retort will be
destroyed in a few months. When they are kept continual-
ly red hot, they fiequently last three winters. The writer
of this article is indebted to Mr Lee of Manchester for this
fact.

In discharging the retort at a red heat, the coak may
drop through an opening into a cellar below, the hole being
afterwards closed; without this contrivance, the operation
Would be much annoyed. In applying the gas lights to the
streets and shops, pipes of cast iron are employed running
along each side of the street, of different sizes, from two to
four inches in diameter, according to the supply. The
main streets have larger pipes, called mains, from which
smaller pipes p)'oceed, to light the cross streets, alleys, and
courts. T! e pipes are perforated opposite to the shop to
be lighteci, and an iron pipe ground air tight into the hole.
With this other iron pipes are connected, to convey the
gas to the place where it communicates with the burner.
The pipes in the streets are laid so near the surface, as not
to be disturbed by the carriages, or interfere with the pav-

ing. They are joined together by slipping one end of one
into a widened part in the end of another. The cavity be-
tween the inside of one, and the outside of the other, which
is nearly one inch, is filled with melted lead, which when
set, is afterwards hammered in by the end of a punch.

Having generally described the apparatus used in light-
ing by gas, we shall give some statements respecting its
economy compared with other means of lighting.

Mr Murdoch, of whom we have before spoken, has pub-
lished a statement of the expence of gas lighting, compared
witii candles, in the P/iiloaophical Trannactiona of London,
for the year 1 808. He begins by ascertaining that a tallow
candle, of six in the pound, is consumed at the rate of 175
grains, or 1 .4 of an ounce in one hour ; and that half a cubic
foot of carburetted hydrogen, such as comes from cannel
coal, burnt the same time, producing a light of the same
intensity.

In the calculation of the expence of lighting by gas, he
takes his estimate from the manufactory of Messrs Lee and
Philips of Manchester, the apparatus being put up by him-
self. He employed 271 Argand burners, each being equal
to four candles of the size abovementioned, and 633 cock-
spur burners, each being equal to 2-| candles, the whole
amount being equal to 2500 candles of the same size. From
what has been stated, it will appear, that to keep so many
lights up, will require an hourly consumption of 1 200 cubic
feet of gas.

He states the average time of working by the gas light
throughout the year at two hours per day, this will require
a daily consumption of gas equal to 2500 cubic feet ; and
allowing 313 working days, the yearly consumption will be
782,500 cubic feet.

He found that, to produce this gas, there was required 1 10 tons of cannel coal, at 22s. 6d. per ton,
Consumption of common coal for distilling the gas, 40 tons, at 10s. .....

Interest of the capital, and wear and tear of the apparatus,

Deduct the value of 70 tons of coak,

The price of 2,347,500 candles, equal to 39 1 ,250 lb. at 1 s. per lb.

Then deducting ............

Leaves the clear annual saving .........

If the working time per day were thr.e hours, the annual saving would then be

Total expence

il24 0 0

20 0 0

550 0 0

i694 0 0

A93 0 0

Nett expence^ 2,601 0 o

iSOOO 0 0
600 0 0

il400 0 0
i2350 0 0

The veracity of this author would alone be sufficient to
give great weight to these facts ; but they have gained
greater strength by their strict agreement with subsequent
experience.

It is now found that the best form for the retorts is a cy-
linder, and that they should not much exceed 10 inches in
diameter, nor be much more than six feet in length. If
they were much wider, the heat would not penetrate the
loose coal within sufficiently ; and as regards the length,
the fire would not act to much advantage, nor the heat be
uniform, if the length were much beyond the above state-
ment. This should be the limit for one furnace. If more
gas is wanted, more furnaces must be made, as has been
shewn in the Plate.

In an apparatus on the scale of these in London for light-
ing the streets, from 24 to 36 such retorts and furnaces
would be required. These retorts contain, independent of
the mouth-pieces, about 5655 cubic inches, and will hold
conveniently 100 lb. of cannel coal. When the fire is ap-
plied to good advantage, each retort gives out all its gas in
about four hours. There is no good policy in pushing the

distillation very far, as the gas which comes the last is the
least combustible. The retort should not be heated beyond
a brightish red, as the gas is not only injured, but the re-
tort would soon be destroyed.

In order to condense as much as possible the most use-
ful facts, we have given a Table, founded upon the state-
ments already made. We are indebted to Mr Murdoch
for the comparative light given by gas and candles, the gas
and coak afforded from a given quantity of coal, and the
consumption of common coal to produce the necessary heat
for the distillation. The proportion of tar and ammoniacal
li(|iior we have quoted from Mr Accum's work on gas
lights.

The first column gives the number of retorts, each being
10 inches in diameter, and 6 feet long. Tiie second column
gives the capacity of the gazometer. The third column,
the weight of coal used to furnish the gas. The fourth and
fifth columns give the same by measure. The sixth, the
coal used to distil off the gas. The seventh, the cubic feet
of purified gas. The eighth, the weight of coak left in the
retorts. The ninth, the weight of tar. The tenth, the am-

GAS LIGHTS.

581

moniacal liquor; and the eleventh, the number of candles
to produce the same light with the gas; the candles being
six to the pound each, wiien fairly burnt, consuming 175
grains of tallow in one hour.

This Table is formed by doubling the first numbers of

each column for the second number, then adding the first
number to the second for the third, the third to the first
for the fourth, and so on, so that it may be easily extended
to any greater number of retorts.

TABLE

S/ieit>ing the relative firofiortions ofGas^ Tar, and Coak, produced by the distillation of Coal, and the illuminating

flower oj" the Gas comfiared with Candles.

Number of re-
torts, 10 inches
diameter by six
feet long, ex-
clusive of the
mouth-piece.

Capacity

of the
Gazometer

Coal for
producing
the Gas in

Pounds.

By measure in
Bushels & Pecks.

Coal consu-
med to dis-
til ofi' the
Gas.

Cubic feet

of Gas

pui'ified.

Coak in
ditto.

Tar.*

Ammonia-
cal Lieiuor.

No. of Can-
dles, 6 in the
lb. to give an
equal light
with the
Gas.

Bushels.

Pecks.

295

100

320

5.4

7.85

390

200

1-J

640

128

10.8

15.7

192

485

300

102

960

192

16.2

23.55

288

780

400

136

1280

256

21.6

31 40

384

1075

500

170

1600

320

27.0

39.25

480

1370

600

204

1920

384

32.4

47.10

576

1665

700

238

2240

448

37.8

54.95

672

1960

800

272

2560

512

43.2

62.80

768

2255

900

306

2880

576

48.6

70.65

864

2550

1000

340

3200

640

54.0

78.50

960

1 I

2845

1100

4
■5

374

3520

704

59.4

86.35

1056

3140

1200

408

3840

768

64.8

94.20

1152

3435

1300

442

4160

832

70.2

102.05

1248

3730

1400

476

4480

896

75.6

109.90

1344

4025

1 500

510

4800

960

81.0

117.75

1440

4320

1600

544

5120

1024

86.4

125.60

1536

4615

1700

578

5440

1088

91.8

133.45

1632

4910

1800

612

5760

1152

97.2

141.30

1728

5205

1900

646

6080

1216

102.5

149.15

1824

5500

2000

680

6400

1270

108.0

157.00

1920

5795

2100

-4

714

6720

1334

113.4

164.85

2016

6090

2200

748

7040

1398

118.8

172.70

2112

6295

2300

782

7360

1462

124.2

180.55

2208

6 ',90

2400

816

7680

1526

129.6

188.40

2304

6885

2500

850

8U00

1590

135.0

196.25

2400

7180

2600

4
■5

884

8300

1654

140.4

104.10

2496

7475

2700

918

8640

1718

145.8

111.85

2592

7770

2800

952

8960

1782

151.2

119.70

2688

8065

2900

986

9280

1846

156.6

127.55

_2784

8360

3000

1020

9 600

1910

162.0

135.40

2880

Kit were required to find the number of candles of any
■other size, or a diflerent number in the pound, multiply the
number of candles in the Table by the given number in the
pound, and divide the product by 6, the number in the
pound of those in the Table ; the quotient will be the num-
ber required. Tor example, the number of candles equal
to the gas from 800 lb. of coal, which is 2560 cubic feet, is
768, what will be the number of candles of 5 to the pound ?
5X768r:3840 ; then, 3840-r-6:^540, the number of candles
required.

From this Table it may be seen how much coal is equal
to a given weight of tallow. If the number of candles in
the last column be divided by 6, the quotient will give the
w\.ight of tallow in pounds to the coal in the third column.
For instance, the candies equal to 800 lb. of coal are 768 ;

the last divided by 6 gives 128lb. of tallow, equal to 800lb.
of coal, which is 1 lb. of tallow to 6.25 of coal.

Gas light may be compared with candles in another point
of view. That is, what number of candles of a given size
give a light equal to that produced by the gas when its rate
of burning is given ; that is, when a given quantity in cubic
feet is burned in a given time. We have seen, by the data
already giVen, that half a cubic foot of gas will be consum-
ed in the same time, giving the same light as 175 grains of
tallow from a candle 6 to the poujul. We therefore should
say, that when a cubic foot of air is burnt in two hours, its
light will be equal to that of a mould candle of 6 to the
pound ; but if the same gas were burned in one hour, either
from doubling its velocity or its aperture, then it would re-
quire two such candles to produce an equal light in all re-

• This fluid on distillation affords about one-fourth its weight of a thin light inflammable fluid resembling naphtha, leaving a residuuna like
pitch or asphaltum.

i82

GAS

spects. ir the candles to give an equal light with the tjas
when burnt in one hour be clividctl by the time, it will give
the candles for that lime. To find the quantity of candles
of any other size, use the rule above given.

Before we conclude this article, wc think it right to give
a few useful rules to those who may have the management
of the gas light apparatus. These are the substance of the
rules drawn up by Mr Clcgg for the use of the workmen.

1st, Before closing the retort, take common clay, dried,
pulverised, and sifted, lo which add as much water as will
give it the consistence of treacle ; make both the surfaces
where the lid fits the retort very clean, spread the luting
thinly over the turned part, then secure the lid in its place
by the wedge, Fig. C, Plate CCLXIV. If this is not strict-
ly attended to, the retort will lose the gas, and the smell
will be very oflcnsive, and injure the health of the operator.

2d, The bridge of bricks, b b, Fig. 2. which separates the
fire place from the retort, must never exceed a bright red
heat. If they are raised to a white heat, the gas will be in-
jured, and the retort be soon destroyed. This may be re-
gulated by a damper in the chimney, or by the register
door to the ash pit. See Fig. 7.

3d, The gazometer should be examined at least once a
week, which is done as follows : shut the stop-cock y, Fig.
7. and likewise the retort from the gazometer, no operation
going on. Mark the suspended vessel at the surface of the
water when it is nearly full of gas. If the mark sinks be-
low the surface, there is some opening where gas es-
capes. To find out this place, walk slowly round the ves-
sel, and if the leak is not very small the gas may be smell-
ed. Apply a candle to the place, and the issuing gas vvill
be inflamed. Mark the place, and blow it out. In the same
way search the vessel all round. There, however, may be
a small leak, and yet it will not inflame. About the sus-
pected part apply with a brush a little white lead paint.
The place where the gas escapes will become yellow, and
ultimately black, from the sulphur in the gas. The place
being discovered, talie a small piece of linen, dip it in a little
melted pitch and bees wax, and apply it to the part while
hot, and keep pressing it on till it is cold.

4th, Keep the water in the outer vessel of the gazome-
ter at its proper height, in order that the gas may have to
rise through the same column of water.

5th, In the place where the lights are, appoint one person
only to superintend their management. Be careful to shut
the cocks when the lights are not wanted, and do not suffer
them to be opened till they are to be lighted, and then hold
a lighted paper over the aperture while the cock is turned.
Do not use a candle for this purpose, lest it drop on the
burner, (c. s.)

GASES, Sounds produced by. In our article Acous-
tics, vol. i. we have mentioned the experiments by Dr
Chladni, on the sounds of diflerent degrees of acuteness
produced by the same organ-pipe, when blown with differ-
ent gases, inappropriate receivers; and in page 115 we
stated that the number of vibrations which the same column
of gases of diflerent specific gravities should make in a
given time, are inversely proportional to the square roots
of their specific gravities.

We propose, in the present article, to exhibit, in a tabu-
lar form, the results of the principal experiments that are
recorded on this subject, for comparison with calculations
on the above principles, and with other calculations from
the velocities with which sound is propagated through dif-
ferent gases, considering the pitches of the sounds to be in-
versely proportional to the velocities of piopagation.

In the first column of our table are mentioned the names
of fifteen kinds of gases, on which Messrs F. Kirby and
Arnold Merrick made repeated experiments, which are

fully detailed, and their apparatus dcsciibcd,in Nicholson's
Pliilosiijilikal Journal, vol. xxxiii. p. 171 ; and in the second
and third columns arc set down the mean results of these
several experiments, as they have been calculated by Mr
John Farey, in the Philosolihical Magazine, vol. xlv. p. 28.
The intervals in column 2. being stated in his notation, (as
usual in other parts of our work,) reckoned upwards and
downwards from note C, to which the experiment pipe in
atmos])heric air is supposed to be accurately adjusted. Co-
lumn 3. shews the nearest notes on the Rev. Henry Lis-
ton's Euhau.monic Organ, (see that article,) followed by
the differences, whether more acute -j-, or grave — , ex-
pressed in Schismas; small and capital Italic letters mark-
ing the octaves, above and below C c.

In column 4, the specific gravities of the gases have
been taken from the mean of those mentioned in our article
Chemistry; and column 5, (like col. 2.) shews the calcu-
lated intervals above and below C ; wherein it will be ob-
served, that ether vapour, and sulphuretted hydrogen, ap-
pear to be graver notes than C, and olefiant gas more acute
thanit,contrary to the results of experiments thereon in col. 2.

In column 7. are contained the velocities with which
sound is propagated, extracted from Acoustics, Vol. I. p.
118 ; in col. 8. are the intervals; and in columns 6. and 9.
the several notes and differences, as already described.

By subtracting the intervals in columns 2, 5, or 8, (with
due attention to the signs,) the relation or interval of any
two gases may be found, and the name of such interval may
often be obtained from our 30th Plate, in V^ol. II. Thus,
in the experiments in col. 2, hydrogen appears to yield a
sound higher than azote by 610 S -J- 12 f-j- 53 m, or only
1.49 1 less than an octave. Again, the interval o{ azote and
oxygeri, in col. 5. is 55.29S-|-f4-5 m, or S — 1.71 S ; and be-
tween the sounds of oxygen and ole/iant gases, is 55.70S-}-
f-f 5 m, or S — 1.32, &c.

The Table here presented will at least serve to shew,
that much remains to be done, to reconcile the facts and
the princi))les that ha\e been advanced by different writers
on the subject. Careful and numerous repetitions of these
experiments, with gases carefully prepared, and in well
contrived apparatus, conducted as Mr Farey has recom-
mended, with reference by means of the beats, to fixed
notes, carefully tuned on Liston's organ ; not trusting to
unisons for the comparisons of the sounds in any case, but
resorting to the thirds and filths by way of checks:
Experiments so conducted might, perhaps, so adjust these
several intervals, that they may prove of use, in giving
greater precision and consistency to the specific gravities,
velocities of propagated sounds, and perhaps to the lueighta
of atoms also, of the several gases ; if it be true, as has been
conjectured, (and, as seems nearly true of most of the gases
in our Table, and perhaps of others,) that, with tl,«; excep-
tion of oxygen and olefiant gases, the weights of atoms,
nearly as stated by Dr Thompson in h\% Annals of Philoso-
phy, are exactly double (or octave) of the specific gravities,
respectively, (to oxygen, 1.); but nitrous gas seems here
to form a remarkable exception, as Dr Chladni found it to
present, on another point, in his experiments, as mentioned
in our first volume, p. 115. It may not be amiss to add,
that the specific gravity of nitrous gas being 1.094, its note
will be C'b — 3.53S— 59.632-f-f-f 3 m, below C, according
to the principle of calculation used in our Table; whereas
in Messrs Kirby and Merrick's first set of experiments,
(see Phil. Mag. vol. xxxvii. p. 4.), this gas was observed
to sound 52.95S + f+5 m above C. It must however be
observed, that the results of the first and second sets of ex-
periments by these gentlemen, are most of them so greatly
different, as to shew strongly the necessity of the repeti-
tions theieof that we have reconmiended above.

GAS

GA8

583

Intervals abuve

Speciiic

Intervals at

ove

l^islon's

fnlcrvals above 01

Liston's

Gases, and Mix-

or below tlie

Liston's Notes

Gravities

below the

sound

Notes and

Veloci-

below the Sound

Notes and

tures of such,

Sound with At-

and Differ -

of the

with Atmospheric

Uiftisrences

ties of

withAtmospheric

DilRrencs

eJtpcrimented on.

mospheric Air.

ences in

Gases.

Air.

Sound.

Air.

S f m

2 f in

Ether vapour

661.82 13 57

cJ^ + 2.82

2.250

1—358.00

Carburctled

hydrogen .

644.59 15 56

c'i$-3.41

0.5554

259.63

i^ -1-5.63

Hydrogen

523.89 12 54

c'-f0.89

0.0807

1111.10

a^+l.lO

3899

1093.5" 21 95

b'bb— 1.43

Sulphuretted

hydrogen .

7r.97 1 7

C»»-5.18

1.161

—65.95

iJ^-l-2.05

Ether vapour

and com. air.

24.80 1 2

C^^— 11.21

.^.zote, or ni-

trogen . . .

13.38 0 1

C'+2.38

0.977

10.03

C— 0.97

1149

14.77 0 1

C'+3.77

Common Air

0 0 0

1.000

1130

0 0 0

Carbonic and

hydrog. gases

32.06 1 2

C'b+3.95

Oxygen and

nitrog. gases

32.69 1 2

C'b + 3.3l

Oxygen . . .

43.19 1 3

.6' -1-2. 81

1.108

45.26

£'-1-0.74

1064

53.15 1 4

-S -1-3.86

Olefiant gas

51.87 1 4

Cb— 4.87

0.9745

-1-10.44

C— 0.56

Chlorine and

olefiant gases

137.91 3 12

flbb+209

Chlorine . .

160.73 3 14

^+0.27

2.713

440.55

i!'b— 0.55

Carbonic acid

189.04 4 16

^'b3-04

1.500

178.93

./i'b+7.08

922

179.55 4 16

^'b+6.45

Nitrous oxide

197.59 4 17

^b— 0.59

1.603

208.33

./?'b— 0.33

A very interesting memoir on the sounds produced by
hydrogen gas, was published in the Journal cle P/iysir/ue,
vol. Iv. p. 165, by Dr Delarive of Geneva. Dr Higgins
and Brugnatelli were the first who published an account of
the sounds produced by hydrogen gas passing through a
small tube. Profes.sor Pictctmade a series of experiinents
on these sounds, and describes the various musical phe-
nomena which are produced. He explained the influence
on the sounds occasioned by the length or width of the
lubes, and the situation were the hydrogen is burned ; but
it was left to Dr Delarive to assign a very ingenious and
plausible cause for the phenomena: He supposes, that a
brisk vibratory motion is caused by the continual produc-
tion and condensation of aqueous vapour ; and that, in or-
der to produce a sound, this vibratory motion must be able
to harmonise with the dimensions of the tube, and is then
regulated and equalised by the regular reflections from the
tube, so as to constitute together a clear n)usical sound.
For this purpose there must be a great difTcrcncc of tem-
perature in the air and the tube near the flame. For far-
ther information on this subject, see Nicliolson's Journal,
vol. i. p. 129, and vol. iv. p. 23 ; and Dr Thomas Young's
A''atural F/iiloso/i/nj, vol. ii. p, ?67.

GASSENDI, Petek, an eminent Frencli philosopher,
was born at Cliantersier in Provence, in 1592. After giv-
ing very premature indications of his talents, which he did
l>eff:re he liad reached his fifth year, he was sent to school
at Digne, where he made rapid progress in the Eatin lan-
guage, and acquired a decided pre-eminence among his
school-fellows. He was next sent to study philosophy at
Aix, and when he had continued there two years, he re-
turned to his f.Uher's house, with the view of prosecuting
his studies in retirement. A vacancy, however, having
taken place at Digne, he was invited, at the early age of
sixteen years, to leach rhetoric in that city ; and he had
scarcely filled this situation for three years, when he was
appointed to the vacai.t chair of philosophy in the universi-
ty of Aix. The authority of Aristotle was still acknow-
ledged in almost all the public schools of France, and it re-
quired no ordinary boldness to call in question his philoso-

phical system. Gassendi, however, did not scruple to ex-
pose the errors of that great master, in the indirect form of
paradoxical problems, which he published under the title
oi Fxercitationcs Paradxoic£ adversus Aristotelem. This
work obtained for Gassendi the particular friendship of
Nicholas Peiresc, president of the university of Aix, who
succeeded, by the assistance of Joseph Walter, prior of
Vallette, in procuring for him a canonry in the cathedral
cluuch of Digne, where he was admitted to the degree of
doctor in divinity, and appointed rector of the church. This
new situation, which enabled him to resign his chair at
Aix, allowed Gassendi the uncontrolled management of his
lime. He composed a second book of his Exercilationes
Paraduxicx, for the purpose of pointing out the absurdity
of the Aristotelian logic, and intended to pursue the subject
to a much greater extent, but he was violently assailed by
the powerful adherents of the ancient sage, and he con-
sidered it prudent to abstain from any farther attacks upon
the Aristotelian system.

In the year 1628, Gassendi travelled into Holland, in or-
der to make himself acquainted with Ihe philosophers of
that country; and during his visit, he composed an apology
for his friend the learned Mersennus, in answer to the at-
tack of Robert Fludd on the subject of the Mosaic philoso-
phy. Upon his return to Digne, he resumed with great
diligence his astronomical studies. He had the good for-
tune of being the first that observed a transit of Mercury
over the sun's disc. Tiiis happened on the 7th of Novem-
ber 1631, the transit having been calculated by Kepler.
In the year 1541, Gassendi was called by a lawsuit to Paris,
and gained the acquaintance and esteem of the distinguish-
ed characters of that metropolis, and particularly of the
Cardinal Richelieu, and his brother the Cardinal of Lyons.
He had long preserved an intimacy with the great Des-
cartes ; but a circumstance now occurred, which for a long-
time interrupted their friendship. In the year 1629, the
singular jihenomenon of two parhelia had been seen at
Rome, and Gassendi published a dissertation on the sub-
ject. Descartes, in his Treatise on Meteors-, described the
same phenomenon, but forgot to make any reference to the

584

GAY

dissertation of his fi-lend. Gassendi chagrined at this ne-
glect, and probably not unintliienccd by a secret jealousy of
Descartes' fame, attacked tlic philosophical system of his
friend, in a work entitled, Disguisilio Meta/ihyska sen Du-
bitationes, &c. which was put into Descartes' hands by their
mutual friend Mersennus. Descartes replied to the objec-
rions of Gassendi, which he has published with his own
answers, under the head of the Sixth objection in his Medi-
tations. In 1643, Gassendi composed b.'i'i Instanti£, as a
reply to the answer of Descartes, and circulated it in MS.
in Paris, before it was sent to M. Sorbiere to be printed at
Amsterdam. This circumstance widened the breach be-
tween the two philosophers, which was still farther increas-
ed by their respective friends. In 1645, Descartes wrote a
reply to Gassendi's Instantix ; but the differences between
these philosophers were now on the eve of beinp; adjusted.
The Abbe D'Estrees, afterwards archbishop of Laon and a
Cardinal, lamented the dissentions which had so long sepa-
rated these distinguished philosophers, and resolved to use
all bis influence in reconciling them. He invited a large par-
ty of their friends, among whom were Mersennus, Roberval,
and the Abbe MaroUes, to meet the two philosophers at a
public dinner. Gassendi was prevented by an illness from
attending ; but so anxious was the Abbe to effect his pur-
pose, that he took the company to Gassendi's apartments,
where he and Descartes made mutual apologies for their
conduct, and declared that their friendship should not again
be interrupted by any difference of sentiment. By the in-
terest of the Cardinal of Lyons, Gassendi was, in 1645, ap-
pointed regius professor of mathematics at Paris. He read
lectures on astronomy to crowded audiences, and added
greatly to the reputation which he had formerly acquired.
His constitution had now sufl'ered from the severity of his
studies, and having caught a cold, which occasioned an in-
flammation in his lungs, he was compelled, in 1647, to re-
turn to Digne for the recovery of his health. His native
air produced a considerable amelioration in his strength,
and he was able to return to Paris in 1653. He now pub-
lished his lives of Peiresc, Copernicus, Tycho Brahe, Pur-
bachius,and Regiomontanus ; and forgetting the weakness
of his constitution, his astronomical studies brought back
his former disorder, of which he died in 1655, in the 63d
year of his age. A short time before he breathed his last,
he is said to have laid his hand on his heart, and feeling the
languor of its pulsation, he said, " See how frail is the life
of man !" Gassendi was intimately acquainted with the
most distinguished characters of his age. His library and
philosophical apparatus were purchased by the Emperor
Ferdinand III. and deposited in the imperial library at Vi-
enna. His works and MSS. were collected and published
after his death in 6 volumes folio by Sorbiere in 1658.
They contain the philosophy and life of Epicurus ; the
philosopliy of Gassendi ; his astronomical works ; the lives
of Peiresc, Copernicus, Sec. ; a refutation of the meditations
of Descartes' epistles; a tract on the theory of music;
and other treatises. See Bougerellc's Vie de Gassendi,
Paris, 1737 ; and Baillet's Vie de Descartes, passim.

GAUGING, istlie art of measuring the contents or ca-
pacities of vessels of any form. See the article Meksu-
n.iTioN, where this subject will be fully treated.

GAUI^. See France.

GAUTS. See Ghauts.

GAY, John, a celebrated English poet, was born in 1 688,
at or near Barnstaple, and descended of an ancient family,
long possessed of the manor of Goldworthy in Devonshire.
He v/as educated by Mr Luck, the schoolmaster of Barnsta-
ple, a teacher of good reputation, who cultivated a taste for
poetry, and published a volume of Latin and English verses.

Inheriting no fortune, and without the prospect of any,

Gay was sent to London when young, and placed appren-
tice to a silk mercer. It is not known how long he con-
tinued behind the counter. Feeling, however, the irk-
someness of the restraint or servility of his occupation, he
procured his discharge from his employer.

In 1712, the Dutchess of Monmouth took Gay into her
service as secretary. Availing himself of his leisure, he
published his first poem. Ore Rural Sfiorta, and inscribed it
to Mr Pope, then fast rising into reputation. Pope was
much pleased with the compliment, and attracted by the
manner and conversation of Gay, he admitted him to the
fullest confidence, and a friendship was formed between
them which lasted unabated till death. Though Gay was
caressed by the association of wits, he appears to have been
regarded rather as a play-fellow than a partner, and treated
more with fondness than with deference.

Like most poets, he was anxious to place his muse un-
der the fostering wing of a patron, and paid his court ac-
cordingly to princes and their favourites ; yet his assiduity
was not rewarded in proportion to his expectations. When
the Earl of Clarendon was appointed envoy extrarordinary
to Hanover, in the room of Lord Paget, Gay was made se-
cretary, for which situation he considers liimself obliged to
Swift, as he declares in a letter to the Dean. How far Gay
would have succeeded in establishing himself as an expert
diplomatist, cannot well be ascertained from his short con-
tinuance in office, for the death of the Queen deprived him
of an opportunity of distinguishing himself; and his dedi-
cation of the Shefiherd's Week to Lord Bolingbroke, is
supposed to have excluded him from the patronage of the
house of Hanover. Gay, however, still enrolled himself
as an expectant of Couit favour, and hailed the arrival of
the Princess of Wales with a poem. This compliment
procured him but little solid advantage. She and the
Prince went to see his mock tragedy of the " What d^ye
call it." This mark of regard flattered Gay's hopes of
farther countenance ; but meeting with disappointment, he
sunk into despondency, from which his friends conspired
to raise him. Lord Burlington despatched him into Devon-
shire for amusement; next year he accompanied Mr Pul-
teney to Aix, and the year following Lord Harcourt invited
him to his seat.

Gay having attained celebrity, in 1720 he published his
poems by subscription, by which he raised 1000/. He
seems to have been at a loss how to dispose of his money,
and called a consultation of his friends. Lord Oxford's
steward, Lewis, advised him to invest it in the funds, and
live on the interest ; Arbuthnot bid him live on the princi-
pal, and trust to providence for a fresh supply. Pope re-
commended him to purchase an annuity, in which advice
he was seconded by Swift. In the calamitous year of the
South Sea scheme. Gay having got a present of some stock
from young Craggs, he began to dream of nothing but
dignity and splendour, and resisted all the importunities of
his friends to sell his share. He was even deaf to entrea-
ties to secure himself from want, in case of failure, by sell-
ing as much as would give him a hundred a year for life,
and enable him, at least as Fenton told him, to command a
clean shirt and a shoulder of mutton. Gay risked and
lost every thing, and was so completely overwhelmed by
the blow, that it required all the tenderness of his friends
to restore his health. On this occasion, the attention of
Pope was conspicuous. Gay at length, having recovered
his health and spirits, resumed his studies, and produced
his tragedy of tiie Captive, which he was invited to read
before the Princess of Wales. On his introduction into
the room. Gay found the Princess and her ladies waiting in
state to receive him ; being completely engrossed by the
importance of the occasion, he stumbled over a stool, and

GAY

GEM

585

in his fall threw douti a Japan screen. Tiie Princess was
alarmed, the ladies screamed, and Gay, after all this flutter
and trepidation, had still to read his play.

On the advancement of the Prince and Princess to the
throne, Gay expected that something would be done for
him ; but on the settlement of the household, finding him-
self appointed gentleman usher to the Princess Louisa, he
tliought himself insulted, and declined the place. Still,
however, he was assiduous in paying court to favourites,
and flattered Mrs Howard, afterwards Countess of Suffolk,
who was in high favour with the King and Queen. The
lady listened to his verses, and did nothing. But the un-
rivalled success of his Beggar's Ojiera may be supposed
to have been some compensation for the neglect and in-
gratitude of the court. When shewn to Gibber at Drury
Lane, it was rejected; it was then carried to Rich; and,
as was ludicrously remarked, had the effect of making
" Gay rich, and Rich gay."

At length Gay secured himself an asylum for life in the
house of the Duke and Duchess of Queensberry. The
Duke is said to have undertaken the management of his
money, in consideration of his want of economy, and to
have allowed him only enough for his necessities. But
even the affectionate attentions of the Duke and Duchess
failed to soothe the mind of Gay into a state of compla-
cency; his disappointments at court preying on his spirits,
he fell into his old distemper, an habitual cholic, in which
state he languished, with many intervals of ease and health,
till a violent fit hurried him to the grave with unusual pre-
cipitancy. He died on the 4th December 1732, and was
buried in Westminster Abbey. Pope sums up his charac-
ter as follows : " Gay was a natural man, without design,
who spoke what he thought, and just as he thought it ; and
^vas of a timid temper, and fearful of giving offence to the
great."

Gay dying without a will, his two maiden sisters inherit-
ed what he left ; amounting to 2000/., besides the profits
of his opera of Achilles.

Although the genius of Gay was not of the highest
order, or deeply inspired, yet it was not destitute of origi-
nality ; and he must be allowed to be the inventor of the
ballad opera, a new species of composition, which has long
kept possession of the stage. We have the following ac-
count of the origin of the Beggar's Opera, in the words of
Pope : " Dr Swift had been observing once to Mr Gay,
what an odd pretty sort of a thing a Newgate pastoral
riiight make; Gay was inclined to try at such a thing for
some time; but afterwards thought it would be better to
write a comedy on the same plan. This was what gave
rise to the Beggar's Opera. He began on it ; and when
first he mentioned it to Swift, the Doctor did not much
like the project. As he carried it on, he shewed what he
■wrote to both of us, and we now and then gave a correc-
tion, or a word or two of advice; but it was wholly of his
own writing. When it was done, neither of us thought it
■would succeed. We shewed it to Congreve, who, after
reading it over, said, it would either take greatly, or be

d d confoundedly. We were all, at the first night of

it, in great uncertainty of the event, till we were very
much encouraged by overhearing the Duke of Argyle,
who sat in the next box to us, say, ' It will do, it must do,
1 see it in the eyes of them.' This was a good while be-
fore the first act was over, and so gave us ease soon ; for
that Duke, (besides his own good taste), has a particular
knack, as any one now living, in discovering the taste of
the public. He was quite right in this, as usual ; the good
nature of the audience appeared stronger and stronger
every act, and ended in a clamour of applause."

Vol. IX. Part II.

It is generally known that the run of this piece was un-
usually great in London, and all over England. The ladies
carried about its songs in fans, and houses were furnished
with it in screens ; besides, it expelled from Kngland for
that . ason the Italian opera, which had carried all before
it during ten years. Of the merit of this performance
when it was jjublishcd, there were a variety of opinions.
By some it was commended for the excellence of its mo-
rality, placing vice in the strongest and most odious light ;
while it was censured by others as giving countenance to
crimes, by making a highwayman the hero, and dismissing
him unpunished. Swift was of the former opinion, and Dr
Herring, Archbishop of Canterbury, was of the latter.
Aftei- the representation of the Beggar's O/icra, the num-
ber of robbers is said to have greatly increased. But per-
haps this play, written merely for amusement, was not in-
tended by its author for any moral purpose ; yet, in our
opinion, such a representation is more calculated to in-
flame than amend the bad passions of our nature. The
picture of a criminal who converts the horror of a prison
into a scene of merriment and debauchery, and consumes
those hours that are given him for repentance among his
cups and prostitutes, can have no good effect upon an au-
dience. And though perhaps, as Dr Johnson observes,
highwaymen and housebreakers seldom frequent the play-
house, yet the latent seeds of robbery and pillage may
spring up the more readily from viewing highwaymen
dignified as heroes, and hearing their speeches made the
theme of popnlar applause. Some such objection as this,
(either moral or political,) prevailed with the Lord Cham-
berlain, who prohibited a second part which Gay produced
under the name of Poltij ; he was, however, no loser by
this repulse, as he gained thrice as much by a subscrip-
tion, on publishing the latter, as he did by the publication
of the former.

From the variety of his performances, Gay may be r^ec-
koned a writer of versatile talents, though perhaps not equal-
ly well qualified to shine on every subject he attempted.
His Fables appear to have been with him a favourite work ;
he published one volume, and left behind him another.
They are told with liveliness; their versification is smooth,
and the diction happy. The origin of the Shefiherd's Week
is somewhat singular. Steele having praised Philips' pas-
torals, as yielding only to those of Theocritus, Virgil, and
Spenser, Pope, who was a competitor for fame in this way,
piqued at the comparison, incited Gay to write his Sheji-
hcrd's JVeck, in order to prove that if nature be scrupulous-
ly followed, rural manners must be delineated as gross and
ignorant. But Gay mixed so much truth and nature with
the coarseness and humour of his compositions, that his pas-
torals became generally popular, as just representations of
country manners, {w. t.)

GAZETTE, or Newspaper, is a term derived from
Gazetta, a species of coin formerly current at Venice,
which was the ordinary price of the first newspaper print-
ed in that city. The first Gazette is said to have been pub-
lished at Paris in 1631 . Tlie first English Gazette appear-
ed at Oxford on November 7, 1665, in a folio half sheet.
When the court removed to London, it was called the
London Gazette.

GAZOMETER. See Chemistry, and Gas Lights.

GELATINE. See Ciiemisthy.

GEMS. This appellation is employed in two different
senses: first, in denoting jewels or precious stones, which
from rarity and beauty, hr.ve always been highly prized by
mankind ; secondly, in characterizing stones, which, though
not ot the former description, are sculptured or engraved
with various subjects, and more especially if executed by

4 E

586

GEMS.

the ancients. But tlie name of gems is likewise applied,
in a less appropriate signification, to artificial compositions
designed to imitate tlie finer precious stones, either when
polished in the natural state, or wnen llicy have passed
throu!2;!i the hands of the engraver. In our article Mine-
ralogy, we shall have occasion lo consider tiie subject of
precious stones at some length, and we sliall at present
confine our attention lo the subject of Eiii^iavid G^ms.

It is probable that no stone ol sufficient hardness was
excluded from receiving the engravings of the ancients;
but it has been doubted whether they were acciuaintcd
with the means of cutting the diamond, oi sculpturing the
emerald and topaz. IMuch difterencc is experienced in
•working hard stones: the emerald is only to be conquered
by uncommon patience, and a long time is requisite to pro-
duce a good engraving. The Eastern nations are unac-
quainted with the proper method of cutting and polishing
the diamond ; and it is said that little more than a century
has elapsed since the means of disposing its lustre to the
greatest advantage in brilliants was discovered. The an-
cient Jews, in the days of Aaron, according to Scripture,
could engrave on diamonds; and if the same art was un-
known to the Greeks or Romans, they were sufficiently ac-
quainted with the use of this stone in cutting other jewels.
But if we consider ilie ingenuity of the Greeks and Ro-
mans, it is not unreasonable to conclude, that they fre-
quently engraved on precious stones. There are indeed
few instances of the fact: thousands of their works must
have perished many centuries ago, and many are still to be
brought to light. Yet it is affirmed, that the art of polish-
ing the diamond, as it now appsars, is not of anterior date to
the yearl455, and that engravings upon it belong exclusively
to the moderns, having been attempted only about the suc-
ceeding century. In the year 1500, Ambrose Caradosso,
an Italian, engraved the portrait of a father of the church
on a diamond, which he sold to Pope Julius II. a great
patron of the arts, for 5500^, an immense sum at that pe-
riod. His example was followed by subsequent artists,
and diamond dust was used in reducing this gem itself.

The substances most frequently sculptured by engra-
vers, both ancient and modern, are rock crystal of different
colours, jasper, calcedony, cornelian, onyx, blood stone.
Rock crystal, which is well known, is not considered of
sufficient hardness, and the same has been observed of ma-
lachite, which is also sometimes used. Jasper is found in
great variety, as well in appearance as quality, and in pieces
of large dimensions; none but the finest and most compact
is employed; and this occurs both in the colder and warmer
climates. Cornelian and calcedony are so nearly allied,
that their names are mutually interchanged, according to
the tinge which either exhibits; but the latter, which is
also called white cornelian by lapidaries, is to be distin-
guished by a greyish-while colour, bearing marks which
resemble the scoopings of a knife on wood, and occasion-
ally exhibiting a sky-blue colour. Tiie ancients are sup-
posed to have obtained the best species by the route of
Carthage, from the mountains of the Nasomencs in Africa,
and also from Thebes. One of their most f.nourite stones
was the cornelian, on which all the ingenuity of their art
has been anxiously beslowed: its colour, hardness, and tex-
ture, are the most favourable far delicate engravings, and
it seems to have been diffused in much greater abundance
than any other. This stone is seen of diff'erent shades, from
cherry red to flesh colour, and sometimes of a yellowish
tinge, or brownish colour ; but exposed to moderate heat
it becomes white. The ancients divided it into two spe-
cies, male and female, the latter being pale yellow; and
they obtained both from India, Arabia, and other parts of
Asia, as well as the Mediterranean islands. At present

the finest cornelians come from the east, particularly the
Indian peninsula, where they are found from the si.^ of a
nut to several inches in diameter, and constitute a consi-
derable article of traffic : the Dutch also brought a quan-
tity from Japan, during the subsistence of their trade with
that island. A large proportion of ancient and modern
engravings are executed on beautiful cornelian, the colour
ol which may be deepened and improved by the proper
application of heat. The onyx has been esteemed valua-
ble since the earliest periods of Jewish history, from the
singular combination of its colours; and it was equally
prized by the Greeks and Romans, who applied it to their
most valuable works of art. This stone is considered a
calcedony, the colouis of which are disposed in alternate
zones or strata. Generally they do not exceed two or
three; five or six are extremely rare. The proper gems
of onyx consist of parallel zones, as these only can be
worked to advantage ; but there are other two varieties
with undulated zones, or concentric nuclei, resembling the
eye of animals. Where the stripes are of various colours,
lapidaries commonly call the stone a sardonyx, a vague and
indefinite appellation, and used in another sense by mine-
ralogists. But some apply the name of sardonyx where
the ground is coloured, and that of onyx where it is white.
It is not known where the latter was obtained by the an-
cients, but it is now found principally in Germany and
Scotland. Artists have ingeniously disposed of the com-
bination, particularly in sculpturing cameos or figures in
relief: a while subject appears on a dark ground; or if
there be three colours, the third is artfully converted to
drapery, or some accessory of the general design. This
may be easily understood on reflecting, that the thickness
of each zone is worked so as to leave one surface entire,
or penetrating still deeper, the artist jjvails himself of two.
M. Mariette speaks of a gem of this kind, consisting of
four equidistant zones of difl'erent colours, describing four
ellipses within each other in as great perfection as if drawn
mathematically ; and in the centre was engraved a small
figure of a Bacchante adapting his footsteps to the sound
of his lyre, as if it had been a picture fitted into a frame.
The largest onyx said to exist, is an oval of eleven inches
by nine, on which is sculptured the apotheosis of Augus-
tus in four zones, two of which are brown and the others
white. Several stones of the same species have attracted
the particular notice of antiquarians : such is the Bruns-
wick vase, six inches in height, representing Ceres in quest
of Proserpine; Venus on a marine animal, surrounded by
Cupids, engraved upon an onyx of two zones ; Marcus
Aurelius and Faustina in one of four zones, two white, and
two of lilac. Many are wont to consider the finest works
of art as insipid when not diversified by colour ; but this ob-
jection is removed by the onyx, and it has hence been in great
request both among the ancients and ourselves. Scipio Af-
ricanus, according to Pliny, first brought it into notice.
Engraved gems of two colours, as the onyx, are called ca-
meos, a word of uncertain etymology. It is more usual-
ly applied to such subjects as arc in relief or elevated,
while all hollow engravings are called intaglios, a name
adopted from the Italian, or in French en creu:r. Some
artists are inclined to distinguish an onyx with a red
ground as the cornelian onyx. The ancients seem to have
been well acquainted with blood stone, called heliotrofie by
them, and on the continent at present, sfieckled agate.
There are two species in use with engravers, one of
which has the ground of deep green irregularly sprinkled
with red specks, and not opaque. It is found in Siberia,
Sicily, Germany, and likewise in Scotland, in considerable
pieces, but of very unequal quality ; and the red, which is
thought to be iron, sometimes separates from the sub-

GEiMS.

587

stance of the stone. Engravers have here, as in the for-
mer instance, availed themselves of colour; and M. Rrard
actiuaints us, that there is a gem, though not antique, in
the national library at Paris, representing the head of
Chiist under flagellation, where the crimson specks imi-
tate the drops of blood In the other species, the specks
are so numerous, that at a little distance the whole stone
appears of a reddish cast. Besides these the art of en-
graving has been exercised on many other stones, even on
some which, from softness and the intermixture of colours,
were ill adapted for it.

Before alluding to the subjects represented by engraving
on stones, a few words may be said of the nations among
which it was anciently practised; and here it is natural
to expect the utmost diversity, according to the progress of
the arts. The Egyptians had gems both in intaglio and
relief, but more commonly the former ; and those preserv-
ed are for the most part called scarabei, from the figure
resembling a beetle, consisting of green jasper, cornelian,
and calcedony. The Jews perhaps learned engraving from
the Egyptians among whom they dwelt, and some notices
respecting it are preserved in sacred writ, while describing
the decorations of the high priest. Of the jewels which
were in the ephod, Moses was directed to take two onyx
stones and grave on them the names of the children of
Israel, six of their names on one stone, and the other six
names of the rest on the other stone, according to their
birth. " With the work of an engraver on stone, like the
engravings of a signet, shalt thou engrave the two stones
with the names of the children of Israel." The Greeks,
before the decline of their own country, and afterwards
when their artists were under the patronage of the Romans,
have been much more eminent for their gems than all the
other nations of antiquity. The most rehned taste for the
arts prevaile<l among them: they excelled alike in architec-
ture, sculpture, and painting ; and almost every succeeding
artist has formed his works after their model. They prac-
tised seal-engraving at a remote period, though it does not
appear to have been upon stones; for we are told, that a law
oi Solon prohibited engravers from keeping or making
copies of seal-rings ; and Mnesai'chus, the father of Py-
thagoras, was a seal engraver. The names of many cele-
brated artists are preserved on their works, which M. INIil-
lin, a learned antiquarian, has endeavoured to arrange in
chionological order; an undertaking of much difficulty,
and one that can never be free of doubt. But the catalogue
given by him of the Greeks and later engravers being
long, we can only make a brief excerpt from it. Those
who flourished anterior to the era of Alexander, he sup-
poses, were Theodore of Samos, who engraved a lyre on a
famous emerald belonging to the king Polycrates, 750
years before Christ, which the owner, to mortify himself,
threw into the sea ; Mnesarchus, none of whose works
are extant ; Heius, Phrygillus, Thamytos. Pyrgoteles
was cotemporary with Alexander, who is reported to have
issued an edict prohibiting all other artists from engraving
his effigy. Between the era of this sovereign and the Au-
gustan age, are enumerated Adnione, Apollonides, Poly-
cletes, who was also a statuary, Tryphon, whose period is
well ascertained, and others. They become still more
numerous on descending later ; Aulus, Chronius, and espe-
cially Dioscorides, to whom some of the most beautiful
works are ascribed, and who engraved the Roman empe-
ror Augustus. Alphaeus Ehvodus, Antiochus, jEpolian,
flourished in the age of his more immediate successors ;
but the exact era of the greater number cannot be ascer-
tained. Some of the most celebrated of these are Aetian,
Agathemeros, AUion, Apollodotus, said to be the first en-
graver who added his profession to his name ; Pampliilus,

whom some have supposed a pupil of Praxiteles, and who
engraved upon an amethyst Achilles playing on a lyre ;
Teucer, Carpus, and others, whose names would protract
the catalogue to a great length. Among tiie Roman artists,
M. Millin includes all those whose names do not appear of
Greek origin, or are written in Latin ; such as Afjuilus,
Felix Quintillus, Rufus, and a few, but not many more.
The Greeks still preserved their taste for engraving on
fine stones during the earlier part of the darker ages ; nor
was it obliterated entirely from among the Romans. But
the doctrines of Christianity, which gradually spread over
the eastern and western empire, were adverse to the art,
from discountenancing images ; and those again being sup-
planted in the seventh century by the IVIahometan religion,
it may be said to have entirely disappeared. Here the his-
tory of ancient gems concludes ; because the empire of the
ancients was overrun by barbarians, the arts sunk into in-
significance, and those that had shone with the greatest
lustre were obscured in the gloom of ignoi-ance.

In retracing the qualities of the gems anterior to the first
centuries of Christianity, we find the Egyptians did not
produce any works of excellence ; their engravings were
principally symbolical, or representing rude figures of
their divinities in partial human shape, or the animals that
they worshipped. The Jews are said only to have written
names. The Etruscans present few if any works of skill,
or of much interest. But what remains of Grecian work-
manship, or that of the Romans in their zenith of refine-
ment, exhibits beauty and perfection belonging to no other
people. Wherever the arts are patronised they floui'ish ;
for mankind, always guided by self interest, will soon dis-
cover the way to celebrity. Many circumstances conspir-
ed to encourage engi-aving in Greece : The opportunity of
receiving the best materials from foi'eign nations ; the his-
torical events of their own advancement to power; the va-
riety, complication, and allurements of their religion, all
contributed to aflford an infinite variety of interesting sub-
jects. The tasle for gems may be called original with
the Greeks : Among other nations, it is rather to be deenu-
ed imitative, and to have been introduced along with a taste
for the various arts. The Greeks chose many interesting
subjects; the heads of eminent men; their divinities, with
their adventures either in heaven or on earth ; historical
events, which were transmitted to posterity; and the like.
They were particularly successful in the beautiful repre-
sentation of the human body naked ; and they always pre-
ferred pictures undisguised by drapery. They were mas-
ters in engraving animals, eitlierina passive state, or when
animated with rage and ferocity. Dioscorides engraved
naked figures at Rome; but the Romans, whose works do
not bespeak the same character as those of the Gi-eeks,
generally concealed them in drapery. These nations pro-
duced works in relief and intaglio ; and there are rare ex-
amples of gems being engraved on both sides. The artist
just alluded to worked in very slight relief, which is reput-
ed to be of extremely diflicult execution; but many figures
rise highly prominent on the gem. It has been supposed
by the learned, that the Greeks had better models than
have fallen to the lot of the more modern nations. " To
judge by the heads alone which we see on engraved stones,
and particularly by those which unquestionably are por-
traits, their models abounded in beauties rarely found among
ourselves. The set of the eyes, the figure of the nose, the
smiling lips, the majestic countenance, in short, those un-
definable graces, which are the offspring of internal sensa-
tion, never were the fruit of the artist's imagination only.
The woi'k declares, that he must have beheld thtm in his
model, and that nothing belonged to him but to make a
faithful representation. The Greeks besides had another
4 E2

588

GEMS.

advantage, in being able to study the proportions and atti-
tudes of ihe human body. Far from being disgraceful to
appear naked in public, the most distinguished characters
contended for the nrizes bestowed for wrestling, running,
and similar exercises. Many opportunities were thus pre-
sented for artists to examine the natural motions of the per-
son, far preferable to the constrained or languishing pos-
tures of our mercenary models. Their draperies too were
so simple, that we might aflfirm they were devised to betray
the human figure itself ; and of this we are so well aware,
as invariably to adopt them when dignity or expression arc
required."

Amidst all the variety of subjects represented on gems,
it is not wonderful that antiquarians should be led into er-
rors and controversies : of which, a notable instance ap-
pears in Michael Angelo's seal, now preserved at Paris. By
one, this subject is supposed to be Alexander the Great
represented as Bacchus ; by another, it is thought a reli-
gious procession of the Athenians ; and there are others,
who suppose it simply a vintage, or sacrifical rites relative
to the conquest of India. But it is said to be proved, that
instead of being an antique, this gem was engraved by an
intimate friend of Michael Angelo himself; which is suffi-
cient evidence of the uncertainty relative to ancient en-
gravings. The seal is a cornelian ; it was bought by the
keeper of the cabinet of Henry IV. of France for 800 crowns;
and Louis XIV. having afterwards acquired it, frequently
wore it as a ring. Specimens of Greek workmanship are
always more anxiously sought by those who appreciate the
arts of antiquity.

We can scarcely recognise the appearance of gems, be-
fore the revival of the art of engraving among the Italians
in the fifteenth century. It experienced several fluctua-
tions during those which succeeded, but was at length com-
pletely re-established, and several masters have produced
works which almost rival those of tlie ancients. The names
of Dominico de Camei, Maria de Pescia, Caradosso, Tag-
liacarne, Valeric de Vincenti, and more recently Sirleti,
who died in the year 1737. This artist claimed his descent
from a cardinal of the same name, who had distinguished
himself in ecclesiastical affairs ; he was a goldsmith, as
well as an engraver on fine stones, and the style of his per-
formances bears a close analogy to that of the Greeks.
Amidst a multitude of subjects, he engraved the Apollo
Belvidere, the Farnese Hercules, and the rest of the finest
statues preserved at Rome ; but his chef d' eiivre is esteem-
ed the groupe of Laocoon on an ametlrj-st. The art has
been successfully cultivated in that country, in the most
recent times, by Santarelli, Capperoni, Rega, and by a fe-
male artist, Signora Talani, of great celebrity in Rome.
France has produced some good engravers, though the
ability which they have displayed has been less permanent
than in Italy ; but the best was probably M. Guay, a na-
tive of Marseilles, who flourished in the middle of the
preceding century, and is extolled by Gori as ofiificum gem-
marum deciis et orname7ittim. He studied first at Paris,
next at Florence, and afterwards at Rome, where he pro-
secuted his profession in imitating the chosen productions
of the ancients. After returning to his native country, he
was appointed engraver of fine stones to the king ; and
with his decease the art is considered to have expired in
France, until restored under the patronage of the National
Institute, in awarding a premium to M. Jeufl'roy in 1810.
There are very few, if any, of the arts in which the Ger-
mans have not excelled ; indeed, they seem to stand pre-
eminent among the moderns for mechanical ingenuity. Yet
their first engraver on gems, Henry Enghelh-'.rt, was only
a cotemporary of Albert Durer. One of tlie best was Lau-
rence Natter, a native of Biberach in Suabia, who followed

the profession of a jeweller botii tin-re and in Switzcrlaiid ;
then travelling through Italy, he established himself at Ve-
nice, devoting his attention exclusively to engraving gems.
After visiting England, he repaired to Denmark and St
Petersburg. In Denmark he engraved several of the royal
family, especially the Princess Royal, whom he rcijrcscnt-
ed on an oval black and white onyx, three inches long, and
in relief so prominent, that the head projected about half
an inch from the stone. He next engraved an elephant,
for one of the royal orders, also in relief, on an oriental jas-
pei', which being of difl'erent colours, enabled him to make
the elephant and a man mounted on it white, the tower red-
dish on its back, and the feet of the animal darker, while
the ground of the whole was a fine deep green. Natter
was treated with particular regard by the King, Christian
VI. who assigned him an apartment in his palace, and be-
stowed upon him valuable presents when he departed fur
England, where he died in the year 1763. Natter was the
author of a treatise on gems, wherein he draws a compari-
son between the works of the ancients and the moderns, ami
lays down the principles of the practical part of the art. It
has been erroneously maintained, that he is the only author
who does so ; but in a treatise by M. Marielte, a few years
anterior, it is discussed still more at large: Both these
works are extremely useful to the artist and antiquarian.

Modern gems, by common consent, are judged inferior
to those of antiquity, and hence many attempts have been
made to substitute fictitious gems for those which are real.
This is accomplished by two or three different methods :
the improvement of a stone, which is really precious, — the
imposition of an absolute counterfeit of it, — or the insertion
ol the name of an ancient engraver on a production of mo-
dern origin. This last expedient is by no means uncom-
mon; and some of the most reputable engravers are accus-
ed of lending their assistance to the fraud, which may be
detected, at least in some instances, in the inferiority of the
spurious work compared with that of the master. The
beauty of the gem should always correspond with his cele-
brity ; and, if a number should be offered undep the same
name, strong suspicions may be entertained whether they
be genuine, because engraving on hard stones is a tedious
and difficult art. The principal engravers, for the most
part, employed themselves only on the finer stones; and
therefore the names of these annexed to stones of inferior
quality render them doubtful, especially if ascribed to the
Greeks, or if they are of indifferent execution. Greek
engravers inscribed their names in their own characters,
which are borrowed by the Romans for the same purpose;
and even modern engravers have not hesitated to use
Greek characters on the works from which they themselves
expected to gain celebrity. The most common deception
is the insertion of a celebrated name oii a gem, ancient or
modern, where it is entirely wanting; and the aitists most
successful here were Natter, Pichler also a German, and
Sirleti. The first of these rather appears to defend the
practice ; for he observes, " Scarcely had I arrived at Rome
when the Chevalier Odam engaged me to copy the Venus
of M. Vettori, and convert it to a Danae, adding the name
of Aulus. I afterwards sold this production, though a tri-
fle, to M. Shwanav, who was then governor of a young
prince, and he seemed to prize it highly, knowing it to be
in my style. I have no hesitation in avowing, that I still
continue to make similar copies whenever they are com-
missioned ; but I defy all the world to convict me of hav-
ing sold any one of them as an antique." A gem with a
counterfeit name was sold in 1749 for 450 Roman crowns,
to a Polish nobleman, who presented it as genuine to the
Marchioness of Luneville. Precious stones are of unequal
value, from their faintness or intensity of colour, which has

GEMS.

589

led to different methods of improving; them. This is ge-
nerally clone by heat, which, if applied in a proper degree,
and sufficiently regulated, has sometimes an admirable ef-
fect. From the uniform beauty of the ancient cornelians,
and the great inequality of the modern, it has been sus-
pected there was some method of purifying them, as is al-
luded to by Pliny. The Japanese are said to possess the
secret ; and it is common elsewhere to raise the pale yel-
low of a species bearing little value, to a line glowing red.
Gems being transparent, their colour is afl'ccted by that of
the substance whereon they rest; and hence the variety of
foils employed in setting them, which may deceive an un-
skilful person. Rut a more ingenious kind of deception
is practised, in interposing the thinnest possible layer of
any colour between two pieces of fine rock crystal, which
counterfeits the real gem. Many rules are given for the
detection of frauds ; but they are of difficult acquisition,
and can be learned only by practice.

Independent of these expedients in counterfeiting ancient
gems, or in improving the appearance of hard stones, the
imitation of the latter has been carried to a very great ex-
tent, as forming a branch of experimental chemistry. Se-
neca acquaints us, that Deniocrilus had discovered the art
of making artiiicial emeralds; but, in the opinion of Pio-
fessor lieckmann, this was nothing more than giving a
green colour by cementation to rock crystal. Pliny men-
tions several artificial stones; and Trebellius Pollio re-
lates, that Gallienus, enraged at a deception in selling
" certain glass gems to his wife for real jewels," punished
the cheat with castration ; and when the byestanders ex-
pressed their surprise, he ordered the crier to proclaim,
imfionluram. fecit et fiassus est. The difficulty of obtain-
ing glass in extreme purity, was in itself a sufficient guide
to colour it in imitation ; and this art was undoubtedly
known from an early age. At Alexandria, the glass ma-
nufacture was in high repute, which is corroborated by an
Egyptian priest presenting several glass cups, sparkling
with every colour, to the Emperor Adrian, who valued
them so highly, that he allowed them to be used only at
festivals. The coloured glass of this city was ascribed by
Strabo to a kind of earth found in the neighbourhood.
Many of the antique fictitious gems, or pastes as wc mere
commonly denominate them, are preserved; and the art
seems to have been one of the few which was not lost du-
ring the darker ages. Heraclius, an author of the ninth
century, gives directions, in uncouth Latin verses, hov/ to
imitate precious stones after this manner, in a treatise tie
Jrtibus Romanorum. We do not know what perfection
was then attained ; but the imitations were so successful,
or the people so unskilful, that coloured glass passed cur-
rent for the precious Oiiginal, and donations were unsus-
pectingly made by crowned heads of this as of the most va-
luable substance. A celebrated vase belonging to the ca-
thedral of Genoa was believed to be a real emerald during
centuries, and, on a certain emergency, was pledged for a
sum equivalent to 30,000/. sterling. Natter, one of the
most skilful modern artists, was long deceived by a com-
position in imitation of onyx. The surface was blue, with
a black ground, and the whole so intimately resendded a
natural production, that it was not before some accidental
circumstance induced him to put it to the test that the
truth was ascertained. An antique green paste belonged
to the same artist, with a white zone in the middle exactly
like an onyx, and which did not undergo any alteration
from heat. The ancients were, besides, acquainted with
the art of compounding such ;nrty coloured pastes of large
size, which they are supposed to have accomplished by
dipping a black, blue, o; brown lump of glass in a mass
of milk-white enamel glass, and blowing it into its proper

form ; then the outside being cut away, the figures requir-
ed were represented in relief. Mr Raspe says, that some
thing of the same kind is at present practised in the glass-
houses of Bohemia. The art of making fictitious gems
was revived and carried to an tuicoinnion degree of excel-
lence by ingenious chemists of the seventeenth and eigh-
teenth century, whereby the most accurate imitation of
precious stones, combined with antique engraving, has
been effected. Neri, Kunkel, and particularly Orschall,
who all nourished in the former period, made important
improvements ; but the two latter seem to have attended
more to the imitation of a ruby colour, which was consi-
dered most difficult to obtain, and was then the subject of
animated controversies. They were succeeded by Hom-
berg, an eminent chemist, who was patronised by the
Duke of Oi leans, regent of France, and who has left a tract
on the subject in the Memoirs of the Royal Academy for
1712 ; Lippert of Dresden, originally a glazier; Riffenstein
at Rome ; Dr Quin of Dublin ; James Tassic of Glasgow ;
and a female artist, M. Feloix, who of late years carried
on the fabrication of artificial gems with great success in-
Paris. To these names must be added that of M. Fon-
tanieu, who, by a numerous series of experiments, has ex-
plained an improved method of making pastes for every
different species of stone. Tassie perhaps extended the
art farther than any of the rest : for, availing himself of the
skill and industry of others, he collected no less than 15,000
subjects, originals, counterfeits, and impressions, the whole
of which he seems to have imitated. This artist was born
in Scotland, and practised modelling and sculpture in DuTj-
lin during three years preceding 1766. He then repaired
to London, where, amidst the study of various branches of
the fine arts, he confined himself principally to the com-
position of coloured pastes and artificial gems. The for-
mer were first brought into repute by the London jewel-
lers employing them for ornamental purposes; the latter
consisted of a beautiful hard white enamel, which struck
fire with steel, and was not affected by heat. Tassie car-
ried on an extensive traffic in these fictitious gems, which
he sold from eighteen pence to two guineas, according to
the quality ; and the late empress of Russia, a liberal pa-
tron of the arts, commissioned a complete set of his whole
collection. This he executed in a masterly manner, imi-
tating original gems where circumstances admitted of it,
where otherwise the pastes were chiefly transparent; and
cabinets containing them arc now in the imperial palace
ol Czarsko Celo. As public fashions are fluctuating, pastes
began to lose their value, and fictitious engraved gems
are at present in little repute in Britain, though imita-
tions of precious stones are still worn as personal orna-
ments.

The practical part of the art of making fictitious gems,
in so far as relates to colour and consistence, is amply ex-
plained by M. Fontanieu, from whose work we shall quote
a lew observations, as his principles have received gene-
ral approbation. ]\L Fontanieu's primary object was the
discovery of a colourless base, constituting the elements
of all gems, which, by the addition of metallic oxides,
would imitate their respective tinge; and he found it might
be obtained from dill'erent siliceous substances, pure sand,
flint, pebbles, or rock crystal. Any of these, such as crys-
tal or pebbles, being pounded, are put into a crucible and
heated red hot ; the contents are emptied into a wooden
bowl filled with clean cold water, and being shaken from
time to time, the lighter particles of extraneous matter es-
cape and rise to the surface, while the rest, together with
any metallic particles, remain below. The water is then
decanted, and the mass being dried and pounded, is sifted
through a sieve of the finest silk, after which the powder

590

GEMS.

is digested four or five hours in the muriatic acid, shaking
the mixture frequently. Having poured off the acid, a
pure vitrifiable eartli remains, which, being frequently
washed, is again dried and sifted, when it becomes fit lor
use. From the earth now obtained, M. Fontanieu formed
six different bases, of which the fifth seems to be that,
■which, in respect of quality, is preferred by himself; and
his proportions are all calculated in parts of eight ounces
each. The first base is formed by 20 ounces of lead in
scales, 12 ounces of prepared rock crystal or flint, 4 ounces
of nitre, 4 ounces of borax, and 2 ounces of arsenic, which
being well pulverized and mixed, arc melted in a Hessian
crucible, and poured into cold water. The mass is melt-
ed again a second and a third time, always in a new cruci-
ble, and after each melting poured into cold water as at
first, taking care to separate the lead that may be revived.
This forms the first base. The second is obtained from a
mixture of 20 ounces of white ceruse, 8 ounces of prepar-
ed flint, 4 ounces of salt of tartar, and 2 ounces of calcined
borax, all melted in a Hessian crucible, and poured into
cold water. The melting must be repeated, and the mass
washed a second and third time with the same precautions
as before. A compound of 16 ounces of minium, 8 ounces
of crystal, 4 ounces of nitre, and 4 ounces of salt of tartar,
constitutes the third base, being treated as in the preced-
ing examples. The fourth is formed by 8 ounces of rock
crystal, 24 ounces of calcined borax, 8 ounces salt of tar-
tar mixed and melted together, and poured into warm wa-
ter. The mass being dried, an equal (juantity of minium
is to be added, and the whole repeatedly melted and wash-
ed as before. Fifthly, a base judged by the author as one
of the finest crystalline compositions, and called by him the
Mayence base, js procured in the following manner: Eight
ounces of rocfc crystal, or flint pulverised, is baked along
with 24 ounces of salt of tartar, and the mixture left to cool.
It is afterwards poured into a crucible of hot water, to dis-
solve the frit, and the solution is received into a stone ware
pan, and the nitrous acid added until it no longer effer-
vesces. The water being decanted, the frit must be wash-
ed in warm water until it ceases to have any taste ; and the
frit being then dried and mixed with 12 ounces of fine ce-
ruse, or white lead in scales, the mixture is to be well le-
vigated witl) a little distilled water. An ounce of calcined
borax is now to be added to twelve ounces of this powder
when dried, the whole well mixed in a marble mortar, then
melted and poured into cold water, in the same manner as
in the rest of the bases already described. After repeating
these fusions and lotions, and the mixture being dried and
pulverised, five drachms of nitre are to be added, and the
whole being melted for the last time, a mass of crystal
will be found in the crucible with a beautiful lustre.
Lastly, a very fine white crystal may be obtained from
eight ounces of ceruse, two ounces of borax finely powder-
ed, half a grain of manganese, and three ounces of rock
crystal treated as above.

The colour of artificial gems is obtained from metallic
oxides, a fact that must have been almost coeval with the
discovery of vitrification ; but the opinion of chemists has
differed as to their proportions and combinations. The
diamond being colourless, is imitated simply by the May-
ence base ; and M. Fontanieu gives receipts for making
all other fictitious gems, of which the following are exam-
ples. The oriental topaz is prepared by adding five drachms
of antimony to colour 24 ounces of the first and third base :
the amethyst, by taking 2 4 ounces of the Mayence base,
to which are added for colour, four drachms of manganese,

prepared by being exposed to a red heat, and quenched in
distilled vinegar ; then dried and powdered, and passed
through a silk sieve, and also four grains of precipitate of
cassias. The hyacinth is obtained from a base of prepared
rock crystal, and two drachms 48 grains added for colour.
To imitate the beryl, 96 grains of antimony, and four grains
of the calx of cobalt, are added to 24 ounces of the third
base. Precautions, however, are necessary in preparing
the oxides ; and these the author has detailed at length in
his original work, of which there is an abstract in the Jour-
nal de Phyaujue, 1778. A fictitious turquoise, from a com-
position by M. Suaviac, has lately appeared in France,
which is a perfect imitation of the original, and the colours
penetrate the substance of the mass. It is now ascertained
that the genuine turquoise is not what may be called an
original product of nature, but the petrified bone of an ani-
mal. The same artist, M. Sauviac, has likewise made fic-
titious malachite.

The quality of artificial gems consists in their absolute
uniformity of texture, compactness, hardness, and lustre;
and it is surprising to what perfection repeated practice has
brought the art. Fictitious gems may be detected from
their softness, which always yields to the file, and from
their small specific gravity.

The artist having chosen his natural gem, it is put into
the hands of the lapidary to give it surface and figure.
Next he models the subject in wax, as delicately as possi-
ble, which he means to represent, in order that he may
constantly avail himself of the resemblance, or he has some
other subject, which he is to imitate, before him. His
tools are few and simple, consisting of a lathe nearly on
the same principle as the turning lathe, into the end of the
spindle of which he can insert points, knobs, or circles.
These project a certain distance, and receive a rapid mo-
tion from a wheel below. The gem is fixed with mastic to
the end of a small piece of wood as a handle, and the artist
sketches the subject upon it with a copper point or a dia-
mond. It is then applied to the end of one of the tools in
motion, which, being wet with diamond dust and olive oil,
quickly grinds off the surface ; and, by long perseverance,
or frequent repetition, produces the outline of the figure,
and then the hollow or relief Frequent impressions must
be taken in the course of the work, to shew where there is
any excess or defect ; for the slightest error in one part,
may occasion the alteration of the whole. Such impres-
sions, however, are necessary only in intaglios,* not in ca-
meos, because both the prominences and depressions are
there obvious to the eye; and experienced artists consider
it more easy to work on a convex surface, from the distance
interposed between the tool and the hand. Although the
most elegant curves may be produced with skill and atten-
tion, much difficulty is experienced in cutting angles ; for
the tool being the segment of a circle, can never be closely
applied; and hence all the letters on the ancient gems,
even of the first masters, are imperfect.

The tools employed are either of soft iron or copper ;
and in defect of diamond powder, that of the ruby, or other
hard stones, may be substituted. In cutting tlie amethyst,
the Bohemian emerald, or crystal, water is used to wet the
diamond dust instead of oil. Tools of still softer metal,
along with tripoli, or rotten stone, and lastly brushes, are
used in giving gems their final polish ; but it has been ob-
served, that in this respect, the moderns have never been
able to equal the ancients. We desciibe this process in few
words, but it is a slow and tedious operation, and requires
a penetrating eye, and a delicate hand. The artist must

* All intaglio may be raised into a caineo optically, and vice versa, by viewing it with a microscope which inverts objects.

Ed.

GEM

591

be master of drawing and modelling, and he must be a suf-
ficient naturalist to be intimately acquainted with the pro-
perties and imperfections of the various finer stones.

Although the art of engraving gems might have been
preserved during the darker ages, it is doubtful whether
the method of giving impressions to paste, without en-
graving, was not entirely lost. It was revived, however, by
M. Homberg, who, in the year 1712, explained it in such
a manner, that all later artists have been enabled to follow
his precepts. A quantity of soft, smooth, red tripoli is
pounded in an iron mortar, sifted through a fine silk sieve,
and set aside for use. Another species, called yellow, or
Venetian tripoli, which has a natural kind of unctuosity,
is then scraped with a knife, and bruised in a glsss mortar,
with a glass pestle, until reduced to a very line powder ;
the finer it is the more favourable for the impression. The
red tripoli is now to be mixed to the like consistence of
paste with water, and when moulded between the fingers, it
is put into a small flattish crucible, scarcely exceedmg half
an inch in depth, and little more in bieadth at the surface
than the size of the gem whose impression is to be taken.
The crucible is then to be filled with the paste, slightly
pressed down into it, and the dry yellow tripoli strewed
over its surface. Here the stone which is to give the im-
pression must be laid, and pressed down so much on the
paste, as to give it a strong, clean, and perfect impression ;
and the tripoli is to be collected and applied nicely to the
edges, with the fingers or an ivory knife. After the stone
has lain a few seconds to allow the humidity of the paste
to moisten the dry powder of the yellow tripoli scattered
over it, the operator must raise it carefully by a needle
fixed in a wooden handle, and the crucible being inverted, it
will fall out, while the impression remains on the tripoli
still adhering to the crucible. The stone must now be ex-
amined, to ascertain that none of the paste has come off
along with it, otherwise there will be a corresponding
defect in the impression, and the operation must be repeat-
ed. Having allowed the crucible and paste to dry, the
artist selects a fictitious gem of the suitable size to be laid
over the mould, but in such a manner as not to touch the
impression, which would thus be obliterated or injured;
and the crucible being gradually brought nearer the fur-
nace, is to be heated until it can no longer be touched by
the hand, when it must be placed in tlie furnace under a
muffle, surrounded with charcoal. When the gem begins
to appear bright, it is the sign of being ready to receive the
impression. The crucible must now be taken from the
fire, and the hot gem pressed down with an iron implement,
to make it receive the impression from the mould below it ;
after which the crucible is to beset by the side of the fur-
nace, to cool gradually without breaking. When cold, the
gem may be removed, and its edges nipped or grated round
with pincers, to prevent it from cracking, which sometimes
happens. Red tripoli is used for the paste only from eco-
nomy, as it is the yellow species alone which is adai>ted for
the purpose. Casts of plaster of Paris may be substituted
for both, made into small cakes half an inch thick, and being
put into a furnace without a crucible, the gem is to be
pressed down upon it to take the impression.

Many discussions have arisen among the learned concern-
ing the use of those ancient sjems, now preserved with so
much care in our cabinets. The beauty and rarity of na-
tural jewels constitute their principal recommendation, and
they have always been employed as personal ornaments,
some being more [jrizcd than others, according to f:»shion
or ideal properties. It has been supposed that engraved
gems were applied in the same manner, and purposely
sculptured for ornaments.

During some time, there was an ordonnance of the Ro-
man emperors, prohibiting the use of rings bearing their
portraits, the infringement of which was little less than a
capital crime; and we are told of the praetor Paulus being
exposed to imminent danger, from having a cameo repre-
senting the Emperor Tiberius. Vespasian wisely removed
this restriction. But the use of those elegant suljjects of
mythology an i history, which appear in relief, is less evi-
dent, unless it had some relation to the religious principles
of the owner, or was like a picture, designed to peipetuate
historical events. It is said that the Romans long abstained
from engravmg any image of their gods on gems; but
adopting the religious fashions of other nations, they be-
came enslaved by superstitions. Augustus sealed with the
head of Alexander, and then substitute!! his own, engraved
by Dioscorides. Before resorting to either, he had sealed
with a sphynx. Nero is said to have had a seal engraved
with the subject of Apollo flaying Marsyas; that of Pom-
pey represented a lion holding a sword; and the Emperor
Galba retained the seal of his ancestors, representing a
dog on the prow of a vessel. Sylla, proud of the capture
of Jugurtha, caused a representation of the King Bocchus,
delivering up the Prince, to be engraved on a ring which
he wore on his finger, and always sealed with it ; and Sci-
pio Africanus did the same to commemorate one of his
conquests.

The ancients entertained a great partiality for rings ; -^
they wore many of the most valuable kinds at a time, load-
ing their fingers, in the words of Pliny, with extravagant
wealth, censu o/iimo digitos onerabant ; and these rings, as
we have seen, contained either natural jewels or engraved
gems. Most probably, numerous cameos were worn in
the same way, merely for ornament, and cutting them might
simply be a display of art in miniature, as sculpturing a
statue, or painting a picture. But they httd special collec-
tions of gems; as a taste for works of nature and art was
not inferior at certain periods of ancient empires to what
now prevails. Caesar had a splendid cabinet, which he had
collected at an immense expense, and of which the pearls
of Great Britahi constituted a valuable portion. This he
consecrated to the temple of Venus Genetrix ; and Pom-
pey deposited the gems and rings found among the spoils
of Mithridates in the capitol at Rome.

With the irruptions of barbarians, the arts were over-
thrown ; and the most ingenious works of antiquity were
consigned to oblivion. Among those which escaped, some
became votive offerings in the hands of the ear.ier Chris-
tians to the shrines of their saints, and have thus been pre-
served through ages ; but by far the greater part were lost
or destroyed.

See Pliny Historia Xaluralis^Xx'o. 37, 58. Goilaeus Dac-
tyliotheca. Gorious DactijUolheca Smithinia, Gemmarum
antiquarum, delectus ex prastantioridus desum/itus quee in
DactijHothecis Ducis Marlhuriensis conservantur. Le Chau
et Le Blond, Descrifition den Princi/mles Pierres Gravies
du Cabinet de M. le Due d'Orleans. Marictte. Traite des
Pierres Gravees. Stosch, Ge?nma jin'.iqucs celate scul/i-
torutn nominibus insignite. Natter, Traile de la Methode
Antique de Graver en Pierres Jines. Raspe, Descrifilive
Catalogue of Tassie's Gems, 2 vols, in 4to. Memoires de
t' Academic Royale, \7 12. Oi-%ch.\i\, Sol sine veste. Fon-
taineu. CJrt de faire lea Cristaux, Paris, 1778, in 8vo ; and
Journal de Physique, (c)

GEMMI, is the name of a lofty mountain of Switzer-
land, situated between the Upper Vallais and the canton of
Berne. Its name is derived from Gemini, indicating the
two summits of the mountain. The height of Gemmi
above the level of the sea is 6985 feet. On the southern

592

GEN

side of the mountain, which is extremely precipitous, a
road has been cut in the rock, which is accessible to mules
and beasts of burden, and is reckoned the ijreatest wondcv
in Switzerland. It was constructed by the Tyrolcse, be-
tween the years 1736 and 1741, at the joint cxpence of the
Vallais and the canton of Berne. It is about nine feet
broad, and the traveller is separated from the precipice
only by a small parapet. Tlie descent of this mountain is
particularly alarming to those who are subject to giddiness.
The invalids from the north of Switzerland, who frequent
the baths of Lcuk, arc carried upon a burrow by eight
men, who relieve one another by turns. When they arrive
at the frightful passage, the invalid is turned with his back
to the precipice ; his eyes are tied up, and the undaunted
guides endeavour to dispel his fears by singing. From the
baths of Leuk to the Chalets of Gemmi is a distance of
10,110 feet, and the vertical height of the wall of Gemmi
above the baths is 1 600 feet. From the highest part of the
road, there is a magnificent view of the Southern Alps,
which separate Piedmont from the Vallais. See Alps.

GENDER. SeeGRAMMAK.

GENERA, in Music: with Euclid and others of the
ancient Greek writers, implied or included the various
modes of dividing and disposing of the divisions of the
Tetrachord, or minor Fourth., which Interval seems to have
been considered as the constant boundary of sounds with
the ancients, as the octave is now with us. The three ge-
nera were called Chromaticum, Diatonicum, and En-
HARMONicuM. The two first of these genera have been
already treated of under their respective articles, and the
other remains to be described.

According to Euclid, in the Enharmonic genus, the Te-
trachord was so divided, that the first degree was a diesis
or quarter of a major tone, the second degree the same,
and the third degree such a ditone as would make up the
true fourth : that is, in our notation, Plate XXX. Vol. II.
202 S -{- 4 f + 17^ m
- iT=: 26 2+ lf+ 2im
iT=: 26 2+ ^f+ 2im

4th := 254 2 + 5 f-f 22 m
According to Aristoxenus, in this genus, the tetrachord
was divided into 30 equal parts, which were thus distribut-
ed, viz. 3 -f 3+24=30 ; or

4|ths, or I X 4thz=203.19686 2 + 4f + 18 m
/gths, or_V X 4th=: 25.32674 2 + f + 2 m
,3_ths, or T^L X 4tli= 25.32674 2 + f + 2 m

, 5253.850342 + 6 f + 22 m

4tll _ ^ 254.00000 2 + 5 f + 22 m
Dr Pepusch, Mr Overend, and Dr Boyce, were of opi-
nion, that this genus was thus constituted, viz.
T+'t (or III) =1197 2 + 4 f + 17 m
£= 212 + 2 m

^::z36 2+ f-f 3m

4th=:254 2 + 5 f + 22 m
According to Ptolemy, this genus is said by Dr Wallis,
to have been ^| x |^ X 4 = ^; or

I zr 197.00000 s + 4 f + 17 m
11= 37.53974 2+ f+ 3 m
jf = 19.46026 2 -f 2 m

4th ^ 254.00000 2 + 5 f + 22 m (f)

GENERATION. See Physiology.

GENEVA, is a city in Switzerland, and capital of an
ancient and independent republic of the same name. It
is situated on the confines of Savoy and France, at the
southern extremity of the Lake of Geneva, where the

Rhone issues from it in two rapid transparent streams of
a beautiful blue colour, v, hi'.n unite after passing the city.
These two branches of the Rhone arc crossed by two
wooden bridges, cictiimte of beauty, and divide the town
into two unequ:il pans-. The principal part of Geneva is
situated on the left bank o' the Rhone, upon a rising ground,
about 80 o: 90 feel above the level of the Lake.

Geneva is stirrjundcd, except towards the Lake, with
high walls and fortifications, which were begun at the com-'
mencemcnt of the seventeenth century, under the direc-
tion of Agrippa D'Aubigne. The building of the bastion
of Hesse, which is well worthy of being visited by stran-
gers, cost no less than 10,000 crowns, which Philip, land-
grave of Hesse, had given to the re^jublic for this purpose.
The southern gate of the city is remarkably beautiful.
The double ditches round this gate are filled with water.

The town of Geneva is irregularly built. Some of the
streets are extremely steep. The houses are lofty, con-
sisting frequently of four or five stories ; and in the com-
mercial part of the town, particularly in the Rue Basse,
they have gloomy arcades of wood supported by huge
wooden pillars, which rise to the very top of the house, and
thus protect the foot passengers from the effects of the sun
and the rain. In this street there are two rows of low
w'ooden shops in front of the houses, separating the street
from the foot pavements.

The upper part of the town forms a striking contrast
with the lower part, not only from the splendid views which
it commands, but also from the admirable houses that it
contains. The Rue Nouveau de Beauregarde, command-
ing a splendid view of the Lake and the Western Alps,
contains many elegant houses ; and the Terrace, which
looks to the mountains of Sion, consists of the houses of M.
M. Tronchin, Boissier, Scllon, Saussure, &c. which are
large quadrangular buildings.

The principal public edifices and establishments, are the
cathedral of St Peter's ; the Hotel de V^ille ; the arsenal ;
the college ; the public library ; the hospital ; the theatre ;
and the places of worship. The cathedral, situated in the
upper part of the town, is a large modern church of Go-
thic architecture in the interior, with a fine organ, and win-
dows of painted glass. The portal is in imitation of that
of the Rotondo at Rome. It is built of rough marble, and
consists of a fine peristyle of six Corinthian columns, sup-
porting a pediment which is surrounded by an ugly substi-
tute for a dome, covered with tin. In the time of the Allo-
broges and the Romans, a temple, consecrated to the sun,
occupied the spot on which the cathedral now stands. It
contains the tombs of the Duke de Rohan, the head of the
Protestant party in France, who was banished by the Cardi-
nal Richelieu, and who died of the wounds which he re-
ceived at the battle of Rhinfeld. His wife, the daughter of
the great Sully, erected this monument to his memory.
Another tomb is erected to his son Tancred ; and another
to the celebrated Agrippa D'Aubigne, who died in 1630.
The view from the top of the cathedral is very extensive
and magnificent. The other churches of Geneva have no-
thing remarkable in their appearance. That of St Made-
laine is very plain without, but neat within ; and thechurcli
of Fusticre, in the square of the same name, is more like a
large house than a religious edifice. The Hotel de ^'ille
is situated in the upper part of the town. It is an ancient
and uninteresting building, with large Gothic halls, and has
a singular paved staircase, without any steps, like an in-
clined plane. Between the two principal gates, is an in-
scription in commemoration of the abolition of the Catholic
religion. The arsenal, like all other buildings of the kind,
contains specimens of ancient armour, and arms for 12,000
men.

GENEVA.

593

The colIc!i;c. is a quadrangular building. Each class has
a separate and commodious school-room on the ground
floor, so as to occupy the two sides of the quadrangle, and
the upper part of the building contains apartments lor t!ic
xise oitlie principal or general inspector, and for the public
library of the city. The public library was founded by liou-
nivard, prior of St Victor, who lived in the time of the Re-
formation, and who was twice imprisoned, for having as-
serted the independence of Geneva against the Dukes of
Savoy. lie bequeathed to it his manuscripts, relative chief-
ly to the history of Geneva, and his books, and left his for-
tune for the support of the college. It now contains about
50,000 printed volumes, and 200 MSS. of which an account
was published in 1779, by M. Senebier the librarian, enti-
tled. Catalogue raisonnee des Manuscrits cotiserveti dans la
Biblioilif(jve de Geneve. Among these, are 24 volumes of
Calvin's sermons, and a large collection of the letters of
that celebrated reformer. There are also MS. letters of
Beza and Bullinger, the homilies of St Augustine, written
upon the papyrus in the sixth century, and a book of the ex-
pences of Philip le Bel for 1314. This curious journal
consists of six tablets of wood covered with a kind of wax,
in which the letters are engraved. One of the chambers
of the library contains a collection of optical and mathema-
tical instruments, anatomical preparations, and antiquities.
Among these is a round buckler of silver 34 oz. in weight,
with the following inscription : Largitar D. .A". Valcnliniani
Augusti. It was found in the bed of the Arve in 1721, and
it is the only one of the kind in existence, excepting that
which is preserved in the royal library of Paris. The li-
brary is also adorned with paintings of several eminent
men ; and at one end of it is a fine bust of Charles Bonnet,
the celebrated naturalist. One of the halls of the college
contains several models in gypsum of ancient statues,
groups, busts, and bas-reliefs, and also some fine paintings
of St Ours and De la Rive. The public hospital is a large
and elegant quadrangular building, and along with other
four charitable establishments, it has an annual expence of
80,000 crowns. In these establishments about 4000 per-
sons are annually relieved, and their benefits are extended
even to indigent foreigners. The theatre is a neat edifice,
situated at the south gate. The front of the theatre con-
sists of six Ionic columns, fluted two-tliirds of their length
from the capital downwards. Geneva is sujiplitd with water
by a hydraulic machine, which raises it to the height of 100
I'eet, and furnishes 500 pintsof water in a minute to the pub-
lic fountains. The principal piece of antiquity at Geneva
is the Tour Maitresse, a remnant of the ancient wall, built
in 1366 liy William de Marcossai.

Among the collections of natural history in Geneva, one
of the most celebrated is that of the able chemist Theodore
de Saussure, the son of the celebrated Saussure. It con-
tains a fine collection of minerals, petrifactions, volcanic
productions, insects and birds, and a collection of philoso-
phical instruments and chemical apparatus. The collec-
tion of Dr Jurine, besides a cabinet of ornithology and ento-
mology, contains a collection of all the fossils of St Gothard.
There are also collections of minerals in the possession of
M. M. Pictet, Tollot, Tingry, De Boissy, and De Luc.

Geneva is well supplied with excellent baths, both warm
and cold. The baths of Luilin arc erected in the very mid-
file of the Rhone, where it issues from tiic lake. The warm
baths in the quarter called Le Drrrkre du Rhone, are
much frequented, on accotn)t of the fine view which some
of the apartments enjoy. \ warm mineral spring was some
years ago discovered at St Gervais, in Savoy, at a little dis-
tance from Sallenche. Btiildings have been erected on the
spot, and have been in use since 1809. The temperature
of the water is 33° of Reaumur. Fifty pounds of it contain,

V^oL. IX. Part II.

Oz.Gr.Dr.
Sulphate of lime mixed with one-seventh of

carbonate of lime 10 2

Sulphate of soda 1 6 0

Carljonatc of soda '.072

Carbonate of magnesia 0 2 20

Petroleum 002

Concrete carbonic acid 0 18

It is supposed to have the same mcdici^ial qualities as
the baths of Leuk in the Vallais.

There is perhaps no town in the world, which can boast
of such an immense variety of splendid and interesting
views as Geneva. Within the city, the houses which form
the lofty terrace already mentioned, those in the street of
Beauregard, and those which are near the cathedral, enjoy,
from their elevated situation, very interesting views of the
lake of Geneva, the Eastern Alps, the Salcve Mountains,
h.c. The principal pi'omcnades within the city, are the
T'reille, the Bastions, and the Place de St Antoinc, from
which there is a fine view of the lake, with the various
villas on the side of Cologny as far as Yvoire, where the
lake begins rapidly to expand itself. It commands also a
view of the opposite side of the lake, including Copet, the
seat of Madame de Stael, Nyon, and Moi-ges, which is not
far from Lausanne. The Little Languedoc is also a fa-
vourite promenade, when the wind blows from the north.

The country around Geneva is so extremely grand and
beautiful, that it is impossible to walk in any direction with-
out being gratified with the views and objects which are
constantly presented to the eye. The right, or western
bank of the lake, is more interesting than the Savoy side.
Mont Blanc, in clear weather, is a principal feature in eve-
ry landscape. About a t|uarter of a league from the town,
on the road to Fernay, the Mole, a hill about 4516 feet
above the level of the lake, first presents itself among the
Eastern Alps. To tli« right of this rises the Great and the
Little Saleve, 3022 feet high, remarkable for the whiteness
of their rocks. On the left, the round mountain of the
Voiron (3112 feet high) stretches its enormous and well
wooded flanks far to the east, and between it and .Saleve,
rises the round and beautifully shaped hill of Montoux, 625
feet high. Between the Mole and the Voiron is seen the
Aiguille des Argentieres, and at a little greater distance,
the rounded summit of Mont Buet. The mountains of
Brezon and Vergi (4000 or 5000 feet high) appear between
the Mole and the Saleve ; and above them INIont Blanc
rises in all its majesty to the height of 13,428 feet. In look-
ing to the north-east, we can observe from the village call-
ed Little Sacconez,all the mountains which stretch beyond
Montreux and ChiUon, (at the eastern extremity of the
lake,) as far as Molesson, which is 5047 feet high, and is
situated above the Gruyeres, in the canton of Fribourg,
al)out seventeen leagues in a straight line from Geneva.
To the west and the north, the grand ridge of Jura stretches
its uninterrupted length. Its three highest summits are
the Reculet de Thoiry, 4062 feet high ; the Dole, 3943
feet ; and the Montendre, 4035 feet high, and to the north
of Reculet.

The splendid view which we have now described, be-
comes more distinctly seen as we advance along the road
to Fernay, and is developed in all its majesty from the beech
tree promenade, in the garden of Voltaire. The writer of
this article hi.d the good fortune to see this magnificent
prospect under the most favourable circumstances ; but he
was much more overpowered with the majesty of Mont
Blanc when he saw it from the heights of Fourriere, or
from the Quai de la Guillotierre, at Lyons, a distance of
about 1 60 miles.

594

GENEVA.

The system of education which prevails at Geneva, is
perhaps not surpassed by that of any other city in Muropc.
It is nut associated, indeed, with those splendid establisli-
ments, nor supported by those rich endowments, which are
to be found in the other cities of Europe ; but it is kept
alive and reijulated by a loveof science, and an cnli;^htcn-
ed and patriotic zeal among the learned men of .Geneva,
which we believe has no other example. The system of
public education which prevails in this city, relates to the
studies of cbihihood, those of adolescence, and those of the
learned professions of divinity, law, and physic.

The first of tliese departments resembles that of our
Eton or Westminster schools. It is conducted by eleven
masters, called rt^fn«, under the superintendance of a rec-
tor, a principal, and the academy of professors. Children
from the age of five to sixteen are successively taught read-
^ing, writing, orthography, arithmetic, and the elements of
Greek, Latin, and mathematics. The college is divided
into nine classes, each having a separate and commodious
class room. The scholars generally continue a year in each
class, and no one is permitted to leave his form, till he is
fit for being promoted to a higher one. An account of the
degrees of good and bad conduct of every boy is regularly
and faithfully kejjt, which is summed up at the end of the
week. Twice every year prizes are distributed for good
conduct, and for progress in study ; and once in the year,
generally in the beginning of June, exercises are proposed
to each class, and prizes are adjudged to the best. These
prizes are distributed on the day called the Day of Promo-
tion, the day before that on which the properly qualified
students are promoted to a higher class. A grand solem-
nity is on this occasion celebrated in the cathedral church,
and is attended by all the public bodies in their robes, and
by crowds of citizens of every class. On the celebration
of this fete on the 20th June 1814,88 silver medals were
distributed.

The second department of the system of education at
Geneva, is entrusted to the professors, who occupy the
highest station in the academy. It is subdivided into dif-
ferent classes, called audiioires. All the courses of lectures
begin on the first Tuesday of August, and continue sum-
mer and winter, with several vacations, which amount to
between four and five months in the year. Four years at-
tendance is necessary to complete the studies of this depart-
ment : the two first are devoted to the Belles Lettrcs, and
the two last to the different branches of philosophy. The
pupils are examined daily on the subject of the preceding
lecture.

When the student has completed this course, which he
generally does at the age of 18, he may then attend to the
study of divinity, law, or physic. The following is a list
of the subjects on which lectures are delivered :

Natural philosophy M. A. Pictet.

Mathematics M.TM. D'Huiliier and

Schaub.

Rational or mora! philosophy , . M. Prevost.

Pharmaceutical chemistry . . . Dr De la Rive.

Botany M. M. Vaucher, and

Necker, sen.

Mineralogy M. Theodore Saussure.

Geology M Necker, jun.

Chemistry applied to the arts . . M. M. Tingry, Boissy.

Zoology M. Jurine.

Anatomy M. Maunoir.

Theory and practice of medicine Dr Odier.

Rhetoric M. Weber.

Belles Lettres M. Sismondi.

History and Statistics . . . . M. Picot, jun.

Latin and Greek literature . . . Duvillard.

French literature M. Weber.

Roman law M. M. Fort and Girod

Jolivet.

Sacred eloquence Rev. M. Picot, sen.

Sacred Oriental languages . . Rev. M. De Roches.

Dogmatic theology Rev. M. Duby.

licclesiastical history .... Rev. M. Vaucher.

Evangelical morals Rev. M. Peschier.

Our readers will no doubt be surprised to learn, that the
preceding establishment, in which more than 1000 pupils
are educated, is supported exclusively by a population of
30,000. The annual salary of the professors is not more
than 60 guineas, and scarcely half of the professors are en-
titled to this sum, the rest being merely honorary teachers,
who give their labour to the community without any remu-
neration. The honour of teaching is here considered as a
sufficient compensation for its labour ; and such is the es-
teem in which even the masters of the schools are held, that
one of the regents was made a member of the provisional
government at the restoration of the republic.

As it is very probal>le that many of our countrymen will
send thfiir sons to Geneva for the sake of acquiring the
I'rench language, and other advantages which cannot be
easily obtained at home, we have dwelt more minutely on
the subject of education than we would otherwise have
been entitled to do. There is certainly no place in the
world to which a father may send his children with fewer
anxieties tlian to Geneva. The vices which prevail in ma-
ny of the principal towns of Europe, are here in a great
measure unknown. The young men are regularly instruct-
ed in the duties and principles of Christianity, and all the
decent proprieties of religion are observed here, as in our
own country. An Englishman, and a Scotchman still more,
finds himself at home in the society and customs of this
happy republic. The religion of Geneva has lost much
of the austerity which she wore in former times. Cheer-
ful and enlightened, she now appears in her native charac-
ter; and there is no danger of the religious habits of our
youth experiencing any violent change among the virtuous
inhabitants of tliis city. The similarity of our institutions
to theirs, the civil liberty and religious toleration which
distinguish both countries, have attached the Genevese to
tlie English character ; and we have no hesitation in saying,
that if an Englishman could for one moment expatriate
himself, even in imagination, he would wish to be a citizen -
of Geneva.

There are several literary societies at Geneva, the prin-
cipal of which is the Society of Natural History, compos-
ed of ail the distinguished individuals in the city. It meets,
we believe, alternately at the houses of the different mem-
bers : and the memoirs which are read are in general pub-
lished in the Bibliotheque Britannique, a monthly journal,
which is perhaps the best conducted in Europe. It was
founded by M. A. Pictet, who is one of the principal edi-
tors ; and the chief object of the work is to give an account
of British publications. Geneva has also a society for the
advancement of the arts, founded by M. Fuisar, a clock-
maker. There is a small observatory at Gi:neva, which con-
tains some good instruments ; and a botanical garden.

Geneva cannot be considered as either a commercial or
a manufacturing town. It has long been celebraten for its
manufactures of watches an^i jewellery; and towards the
end of the 18th century, five or six thousand persons of
both sexes were employed in this occupation. London and
Geneva were long regarded as the general magazines from
which the rest of Europe was supplied with clocks and
watches; and it is stated by Peuchet, that 25,000 gold and

GENEVA.

595

silver watches are manufactured every year. The rough
paiL of the vvoik is in general done by the inhabitants of
the mountainous districts of Switzerland, and tlicy arc sent
to Gtncvii to be finished for sale. Tliere are also in this
city manufactures of velvet, India stufl's, silk stockings,
hats, and leather. A great manufacture of imitation India
shawls is carried on by M. Pictet of Rochemont. In order
to acconmiodale the manufacturing class, a kind ot bank
called Caisse d'£sco?nfile, has been established. Manu-
facturers and tradesmen can here obtain money upon good
bills, at a moderate discount.

The climate of Geneva is extremely salubrious, though
rather cold. The air is always colder than at Paris. In the
greatest colds at Geneva, Reaumur's thermometer stands at
from 14° to 18° ; and in the greatest heats, from 26° to 27''.
There is^ very singular coincidence in the variations of the
barometer at London, Paris, and Geneva. Geneva is situ-
ated in North Lat. 46° 12', and East Long. 6° 9' 30". Po-
pulation 26,140,

GENEVA, Republic of, is a small territory, compre-
hending the following districts :

Population.
Town of Geneva .... 26,140
The suburbs ..... 4,104
The Ciiatellenie of Peney and its depen-
dencies 2,622

The Chatellenie of Jussy and VandcEU-

vres 1,301

The two seignories of Tuvretin and

Chateauvieux ..... 537

Total population 34,704
These inhabitants, with about 300 strangers, making in all
35,000 nearly, are contained in 3^1^ square leagues, which
gives 1 1,080 to every square league; a density of popula-
tion wnich is very remarkable.

The Genevese territory is extremely fertile and beauti-
ful. The villages are large and well built, and the country
is adorned with numerous villas.

Geneva formed part of the territory of the Allobroges.
Caesar established here a place of arms against the Hel-
vetians, and built on the left bank of the Rhone a wall 9000
pacts long, and 16 paces high, to oppose the passage of
the Helvetians across the Roman provmce. The city was
twice destroyed during the Roman emperors. In 1032,
under the successors of Charlemagne, it was united to the
German empire. After the 13th century, it was a constant
source of discord among tlic bishops, the counts of Geneva,
and those ol Savoy ; and from the middle of the 13th cen-
tury, till 153(5, it had to struggle against the ambition of
the Dukes ol Savoy ; but, in consequence of the alliance
which it formed with the towns of Berne and Fribourg, it
was enabled to establish its independence. This epoch of
the civil liberty ol Geneva was also marked by the com-
mencement of its religious freedom. The doctrines of the
Reformation were prtacbed in 1533 by William Farel ; and
in 1535, the reformed doctrines were adopted in full coun-
cil. Calvin and Beza now adorned t^iis asylum of libeity,
and men of principle and character found here a sanctuary
from the cruelties of civil and religious tyranny. In 1542
and 1543, the plague committed dreadful ravages in the
city. In 1584, a treaty of alliance was formed between
Geneva, Zuiich,and lierne. The house of Savoy made its
last attempt agan St the liberties of Geneva in 1602, but
though this perfidious attack was bravely repelled, the in-
dependence of the republic was never solemnly recognized
by the house of Savoy till the year 1754.

In the year 1768, 1782, 1789 and 1793, Geneva was agi-
tated with intestine commotions, of which we cannot find

room to give any particular account. On the 15th April
1798, it was occupied by French troops. Its independence
was destroyed, and it was incorporated with the French
empire, forming part of the department of Leman. The
restoration of European independence, in 18 14, by the over-
tlirow of the colossal power of Fiance, restored Geneva to
the possession of its independence and its an< ient laws;
and we had the good fortune, a few months after thia glo-
rious event, of witnessing the happiness of a free people
newly emerged from a foreign ancl oppressive yoke.

In our article Swiizkkland. our readers may expect an
account of the constitution of this republic.

GENEVA, Lake of, in French Leman, and in Latin
Lemannus, is an extensive lake in Switzerland, resembling
in its general shape the form of the moon when she is a
few days old. The concave side embraces Savoy, the con-
vex side the Pays de Vaud, and a line joining its extremi-
ties stretches in the direction NE. by E. Its length, mea-
sured along the great arch which forms the coast of Savoy,
is 1 83- leagues, but when measured in a straight line across
Chablais, it is only 14^. Its greatest width, which is be-
tween the towns of Rolle and Thonon, is 3A leagues. Its
breadth at Nyon, near Geneva, is 1^ league ; and from this
place it constantly diminishes to Geneva, where it is only
300 or 400 feet wide. It is about 620 feet deep about a league
from Evian; near the castle of Chillon it is only 312 feet,
but in an intermediate place in the environs of Meilleric
its depth is 950 feet. The lake occupies 26 square leagues;
and its height above the level of the seals 1 134 feet accord-
ing to M. Pictet, and 1 154 feet according to Sir G. Shuck-
burg. The lake of Geneva is said to have once extended
as far as Bex, about 4 leagues up the Rhone. The village
of Port Vallais, once on the banks of the lake, is now half
a league distant from it. From the year 1626 to 1726, a
large tongue of land, half a league long and 120 feet wide,
has been formed between Villeneuve and the mouth of the
Rhone. No fewer than forty-two rivers empty themselves
into this lake. The Rhone, which is the principal of these,
enters it by three branches, and issues from it in two ; and
after forming an island containing part of Geneva, they
both unite, and at the distance of one fourth of a league be-
low that city they receive the Aar. In 171 1, the Aar was
so much swollen that it pushed back the Rhone, and their
united waters flowed back into the lake of Geneva, which
tliey discoloured even to the distance of a league '.'(om the
town.

The lake of Geneva never freezes, excepting a few
paces from its margin ; and in very severe winters it
freezes between Geneva and the bank of sand. Its waters
have a beautiful blue colour; and such is the purity of
the atniosplicre, that a town upon its banks illuminated by
the sun, may be easily seen at the distance of about forty
miles. In autumn, fogs 1200 feet in perpendicular height
often rest upon the lake, when it is the finest weather
among the mountains. On the first of November 1793,
during a fall of snow, a singular waterspout was seen at
Cuilltia by M. Wild. The foaming waters appeared to
rise to the height of 100 feet, and the surface of the lake
immeiliately below it appeared to be excavated. The lake
is also subject to sudden agitations, similar to those which
have been seen in Loch Tay. (See the article Agitation )
The water rises suddenly to the height of four or five feet,
and descending, forms a species of ebbing and flowing,
which lasts for several hours. This phenomenon, which is
called Seiches, is particularly seen near Geneva. There
are no islands in the lake, excepting a small one with a few
trees near Villeneuve. The lake of Geneva contains twen-
ty-nine different species of fish.

The most common winds on the lake, are the Bise or
4 F 2

596

GEN

norlU vintl, and the Sec/iard or north east whid ; and the
most dangerous are the Bise and the Vaudaise or south
east wind. Sometimes, when tiie Bise is very strong, boats
can go from Savoy to Geneva, a distance of fifteen leagues,
in 4 hours.

The lake of Geneva is undoubtedly the most beautiful
lake in Europe, and that of Constance aloivc has been sup-
posed to equal it. It is impossible to convey any idea of
its varied beauties to those who have not travelled along its
banks. On the south east, east, and north east, it is en-
circled with lofty mountains 5000 feet high, while on the
south, the south west, and the west, the banks of the Pay
de Vaud rise in terraces from 200 to 600 feet high, resting
en the flanks of the ridge of Jura, which occupies the whole
of the western horizon.

The scenery wliich is presented to the traveller between
Villeneuve and Vevay, and as far as Lausanne, is certainly
the finest and the most varied in Switzerland, and we had
an opportunity of viewing it in the finest weather, and at
that season of the year when nature developes all her beau-
ties. In travelling down the Vallais along the banks of
the Rhone, after passing the village of Rennaz, we first
obtain a view of the lake and the Pays de Vaud. Over its
blue waters appears the town of Vevay, at the bottom
of a round hill, and in the distance rises the hill and town
of Gourze, finely projected against the dark blue range of
Jura. A little farther on, the town of Villeneuve is seen on
the very margin of the lake, situated at the mouth of a fine-
ly wooded valley, and the lake gradually discloses itself as
we approach the town. The road is now almost washed
by the blue waves. The dark flanks of the Savoy hills,
clothed with gloomy forests, and occasionally enlivened
with smiling villages, form a fine transition from the ver-
dant borders of the lake to their peaked and rugged sum-
mits. Numbers of vessels open their white sails to the
wind, and on the Swiss side, one town appears after another,
disclosing a succession of the most sublime and picturesque
views. The old castle of Chillon, almost immerged in the
lake, and the ivy clad precipices which overhang it, next
attract the notice of the traveller ; the hills on the right
now retire from the lake, and open more extensive pros-
pects. The wooded recess whicli embraces the hamlet of
Vaiteau, is the commencement of this new scenery, and at
the village of Montreux, both the distant and near objects
are combined in forming the loveliest landscape we have
ever seen. The terraced vineyards begin to diminish the
picturesque effect of the woods and rocks, and the beauty
of the scenery declines as we approach to Vevay. The
view of the lake of Geneva from the terrace of the cathe-
dral of Vevay is much admired ; but we had the good for-
tune to be wandering along the promenade on the margin
of the lake, when the sun had just begun to descend be-
hind the ridge of Jura. A bright glow of purely yellow light
gilded the whole of the western sky. A warm tinge of red
appeared at a greater altitude, and the whole expanse of the '
lake towards the west, shone with the liveliest purple. As
the sun descended, the yellow tints of the sky gradually
deepened inlo orange, and the purple colour of the water
declined into a more sober hue. In turning the eye to the
south, this lively scene became less brilliant. The moun-
tains of Chablais faintly reflected the red twilight, and tlie
Alps of the Vallais, and the part of the lake which inter-
vened, were involved in almost impenetrable darkness.

GENITIVE. See Ghammar.

GENOA, a celebrated city in the north of Italy, is situ-
ated in Lat. 44° 25' N. and Long. 8° 58' E. on the noithevn
shores of the Mediterranean. It is built in the form of an
amphitheatre, on the slope of a mountain, rising gradually
from the sea, having for a centre the harbour, which is of

very considerable extent, and having sufficient depth of
water to admit a ship of 44 guns. The harbour is protect-
ed on two sides by piers, which, however, are sometimes
found insufficient to shelter the vessels from the south-west
wind, which although it does not blow directly into the
port, often occasions considerable damage. The entrance
also to the harbour, although wide, is not free from dan-
ger, and can only be approached with safety from the east
side.

Genoa is surrounded by two ramparts, one of which in-
closes the town, and is about six miles in circuit ; and the
other, which forms a circumference of thirteen miles, is
carried round the hills which command the city. The ex-
ternal appearance is extremely magnificent. In no other
city in the world is there to be found such a profusion of
marble and other rich materials, both in public and private
edifices ; while their situation on terraces, ascending one
above the other, adds an additional degree of splendour to
their appearance. On entering the city, however, the nar-
rowness and darkness of the streets produce a mean eifect,
but ill corresponding with its magnificent exterior, although
lined with palaces of vast and lofty dimensions, some entirely
of marble, and all ornamented with marble portals, porticos,
and columns. The interior of these mansions is no less
magnificent. The staircases are of marble, and the long
suites of spacious saloons, opening into each other, are
adorned with the richest marbles and tapestries, with valua-
ble paintings, and gilded cornices and pannels. Of these,
the most remarkable are those of the Doria, Uurazzo, Bal-
bi, and Serra families. The first of these (consecrated by
the recollection of the restorer of his country's liberties,)
is a beautiful specimen of the pure and simple stile of archi-
tecture, but in magnitude and splendour is far surpassed
by the Durazzo palace, which, both iu its materials and fur-
niture, is superior to the abodes of most of the sovereigns
of Europe.

The public buildings of Genoa are no less splendid
than the abodes of her citizens ; but the profusion of pai'ty-
coloured marbles and gilding, which gives an air of wealth
and grandeur to the palaces, is offensive to the eye of taste
in churches and temples, where all unnecessary and gaudy
ornaments detract from that simplicity which should al-
ways characterize such edifices. Of this description are
the cathedral of St Laurence, the churches of the Annun-
ciation, St Siro, and St Dominic. That of Santa Maria di
Carignano is in a purer style, and placed in a very com-
manding situation. It was built about the middle of the
16tli century, at the expense of Bendinelli Sauli, a noble
citizen of Genoa. The approach to this church is by a
lofty bridge of three arches, about 90 feet high, across a
deep dell, now a street. Genoa owes this building also to
the munificence of the Sauli family. It was begun by the
grandson, and finished in the year 1725, by the great-great-
grandson of the founder of the church di Carignano.

The great hospital or infirmary is a magnificent building,
which was formerly possessed of ample funds, dedicated to
the relief of llie sick or infirm of th.e poorer classes; but
these and the funds of the Albergo dei Poveri, another
charitable institution on the same grand scale, have been
swallowed up by the exactions of the French armies, and
the edifices remain as monuments of the munificence of
former limes, and serving only, like the city itself, to recal
to the recollection of the traveller the days of the commer-
cial greatness, the military glory, and tlie freedom of the
repuhlic.

'I'he population of Genoa in the year 1765, amounted to
I00.0((0, and in 1800 to 80.000. The suburbs of Bisagno
and Polcevera were supposed to contain 20,000, and the
total population of the Ligurian territory, 480)595. The

GENOA.

597

ordinary military force of the state was about 3000 ; in the
Spanish succession war, however, the contingent of the re-
public amounted to 10,000.

Commerce was always the favourite pursuit of the Ge-
noese ; and as it was considered by no means disgraceful
for the nobles to become merchants, the bulk of the capital
of the nation was invested in commercial speculations.

The exports from llie Genoese territory consist chiefly
of silks, fruits, oils, &c. There are also marble quarries
of considerable value. The manufacture of velvet is at
present the most extensive branch of Genoese trade. Vel-
vets of every sort arc made in the neighbourhood of Genoa,
but principally black velvets ; and it was computed that at
one time 6000 workmen were employed in the manufac-
ture. There is also a considerable manufacture of a coarse
sort of paper, the most of which is exported to the Indies.
It is to be presumed that, while under the dominion of
France, the trade of Genoa, like the rest of the empire,
must have suffered much during the late war ; and the
comparative poverty to which its late wealthy nobles have
been reduced, together with the decay of public credit,
and the failure of the bank of St George, render it improba-
ble that it v/ill ever regain its former state of prosperity.

From the barren nature of its territory, the articles im-
ported into Genoa are very numerous. From France she
is supplied with wine ; from Italy, with corn, cattle, fuel,
&c. ; from Germany and Switzerland, linen ; from England,
woollen cloths; from Holland, spiceries; from Sweden
■with wood, iron, and copper ; from Russia with furs and
liides ; and from Spain and Portugal with dressed leather,
bullion, and American produce.

The earliest mention in history of Genoa, is in the year
241 B. C. when it is described as one of the principal cities
of the Ligurians, at that time defending themselves against
the encroachments of the Romans, a struggle which they
maintained for more than 80 years. It was then erected
by the Romans into a municipal city ; and continuing faith-
ful to that republic during the Punic wars, was destroyed
by Mago, the Carlhagenian general, in the year 205 B. C.
It was, however, soon rebuilt, and, from the advantages of
its situation, and the enterprising spirit of its inhabitants,
appears to have early acquired such a degree importance,
as to be stiled by Strabo, Emltorium totius Ligurite.

After the ruin of the Roman empii'e, Genoa, separated
by its mountains from the rest of the world, long maintained
its connection with the Grecian emperors; and although
for a short period successively under the power of the
Lombards, Franks, and Saracens, soon expelled its invaders,
and before the end of the 10th century, had established a
free constitution, resembling in its form the Roman repub-
lic. The government, however, as in the other Italian
cities, was far from being iix<j<I or stable ; and for a long
series of ages, the history of Genoa presents little else at
home but a continuation of struggles between the nobility
and the people. Frequently, ton, the latter, worn out by
the vexatious oppressions of the nobles, threw themselves
tinder the protection of some foreign prince, choosing ra-
ther the impartial dominion of a distant sovereign, than the
name of liberty and real subjection to a haughty and tyran-
nical oligarchy. For a more particidar account of these
revolutions, see the article Italy. But tedious and unin-
teresting as the relation of the struggles of the Genoese
factions may be, the liistory of its external transactions
gives us a high idea of the enterprizing greatness of the
republic. In the year 1G50, the Genoese forces, united
with those of Pisa, achieved the conquest of the island of
Sardinia, at that time under the possession of the Moors.

In 1100, in conjunction with Venice and Pisa, they sent
to the assiitance of the ci'usaders a lltet of 28 galleys, and

six vessels, and a body of troops commanded by one of their
consuls, who, after a short siege, took by assault the city
of Cesarea. The republics of Pisa and Genoa were soon
after engaged, by a mutual jealousy, in a bloody war, which
lasted, with various success, for many years, till put an end
to, in the year 1162, by the interposition of the Emperor
Frederick Barbarossa. But this peace was of no long du-
ration ; and in two years the war was again renewed, from
a (juarrel betsveen the vassals of the two republics in Sar-
dinia. In 1190, liowever, we find them both arming a
fleet to assist the Emperor Henry VI. in an unsuccessful
enterprise to recover the crown of Sicily.

In the succeeding century, a much wider field was open-
ed for the restless and enterprizing spirit of the Genoese.
The Venetians having, with the other crusaders, dethroned
the Grecian Emperor, received, as their share of the spoil
one fourth and a half of the empire, in which were included
all the maritime parts of Greece, with the island of Crete
or Candia, and most of the Islands of the Archipelago. Un-
able, however, to colonize their conquests, many of them
were left unoccupied, a circumstance which the Genoese
did not fail to take advantage of. Their first attempts to
obtain settlements in Candia, the Morea and Corfu, were
conducted by a private individuikJ, and the Venetians soon
succeeded in expelling them.

About this period also, having warmly engaged on the
side of the Pope, their fleet sustained a signal defeat from
the united forces of the Pisans and Neapolitans, of 27 gal-
leys, three being sunk, and 19 taken. Undismayed by this
reverse, they still continued in the papal interest, until
1261, when, having engaged in a long and bloody war with
Venice about their possessions in Palestine, they entered
into a strict alliance with Michael Paleologus, and bound
themselves to assist him againts the Venetians, French, and
the other crusaders. In this war they were successful ;
and on Michael's regaining the throne of Constantinople,
obtained from him the grant of many commercial privi-
leges, with the isle of Chios in the Archipelago.

Shortly afterwards, a fresh war broke out ». ith Pisa, on
account of their Corsican possessions; and large fleets be-
ing armed on both sides, continued for some time inactive,
until the year 1284, wlien the Genoese, under the command
of Oberto Doria, completely destroyed the Pisan fleet, of
above 100 sail, commanded by Alberto Morosini, at Me-
loria. In this battle, the Pisans lost 5000 men, besides
1 1,000 prisoners, whom the Geonese retained for 16 years
in captivity.

In 1298, commanded by another Doria, they obtained a
signal victory over the Venetians at Corzola, which for a
time put an end to the war. Their mutual jealousy, how-
ever, still continued; and, in 1306, the Venetians having
embraced the interests of Charles of Valois, and the Geno-
ese that of the Grecian Emperor Andronicus, the war
broke out with fresh vigour. It was also about this time
that civil dissentions arose at Genoa between the nobles
and the people, which terminated in 1339 in the elevation
of Simon Boccanigra to the dignity of Doge, under whose
vigorous administration the republic at length enjoved a
season of tranquillity.

The Genoese had now obtained many valuble settlements
in the Grecian empire, and had extended their commercial
relation with the Russi.uis and the north of Europe: thev
possessed the colonies of KafVa and Tana in the Criniea,
and of Pera and Galata near Constantinople, which served
as a depot for tiie merchandize brought by them from India,
Armenia, Egypt, and Arabia.

Their riches and power now began to excite the envy
and avidity of Cantacusenus, the Emperor of Constantino-
ple, whom they soon overcame, but to whom they granted

598

GEOGRAPHY.

peace on moderate terms. With the Venetians they wem
not so successful, and the war continued with great obsti-
nacy and various success for many years. At one time the
Genoese, discouraged by the signal defeat of ihoir Admiral
Giiinaldi, threw theins.lves under the protection of Jolm
Visconti, Archbishop of Milan. Somi' lime after his death,
however, in the year 1356, they tnrew off the yoke of liis
cruel and tyrannical nephews, and reasserted their liberty.

On the other hand, in the year 1379, the Genoese re-
duced the Venetians to the last extremity ; took the fort of
Chiozza, and nearly made themselves masters of Venice.

At length, in 1381, ihc peace of Turin put an end to the
war. In it the Venetians lost their continental possessions,
and the greater part of their wealth. Nor was it less fatal
to the victorious Genoese. Deprived of their best fleet
and the flower of their sailors, and the finances of the re-
public e.\liausted by the length of the war, they were again
forced to throw themselves under the power of a foreign
master, and submit to the authority of Charles VI. king of
France, and afterwards of the Dukes of Milan ; a slavery
under which they continned for more than a century, not-
withstanding many ineffectual attempts to recover their
liberty. At last, in 1528, Andrew Doria having expelled
the French, restored the ancient form of government and
freedom to his country ; — a rare instance of disinterested
patriotism, as, supported by his fleet and the powerful as-
sistance of the Emperor Charles V. he might easily have
retained possession of the sovereign power, and have even
been aided by the people, to whom his liberality and milita-
ry virtues had justly endeared him. See Doria.

After this period, the republic, although deprived of its
former conquests, for a long time enjoyed, with liberty,
peace and prospeiity.

In 1624, it was engaged for a short time in a war with
France and Savoy ; and in 1636, the city was unsuccessful-
ly attempted to be surprised by the Spaniards; but these
wars were ol no long duration.

In 1684, having incurred the displeasure of Louis XIV.
the republic was attacked by that monarch, and obliged to
give up the island of Corsica, and to submit to other terms

peculiarly mortifying and degrading; the Doge and four
of his counsellors being forced to appear in person at Ver-
sailles to sue lor peace, and tiie stale bound to disarm all
their gallics except six, with a promise not to lit out more
without the consent of the king.

During the remainder of the I7tli and the early part of
the 18tli century, the republic continued to observe a strict
neutrality ; but in the war which broke out in 1743, having
joined the French and Spaniards against the Austrians,
Savona and other Genoese ports were bombarded by the
English fleet, and the city, in 1746, obliged to capitulate to
the Austrian army. The people, however, soon expelled
their invaders, even without the concurrence of tiie senate ;
and in 1748, the peace of Aix-la-Cnapelle again restored
to the stjte tranquillity.

In 1798, by the ascendancy of the French, the ancient
form of government was abolished, and one resembling the
French constitution adopted, under the name of the Ligu-
rian Republic. The followmg year, General Massena's
lines in the neighbourhood of Genoa being forced by the
Austrians, he was obliged to throw himself into the city,
which was besieged for some time, and suffered consider-
ably, liy the treaty of Campo Formio in 1801, between
the Austrians and French, the Ligurian republic's inde-
pendence was acknowledged ; but it continued under the
power of France, and might actually be considered as a'
part of that empire. The British having made themselves
masters of Savona, blockaded Genoa, which in 1814 sur-
rendered to Lord William Bentinck, who issu.-d a procla-
mation, holding out some hopes to the Genoese that tlieir
liberties should be restored. It was however determined,
at the congress of Vienna, that the territory of Genoa should
be ut)ited to Savoy and Piedmont. It was accordingly, in
1815, given up by the British to the troops of the King of
Sardinia, and may now be considered as an integral part of
that monarchy. See Sismondi's Histoire des Rejiubliques
Itatiennes ; Accinelli's Revolutions of Genoa ; Eustace's
Clasaical Tour through Italy, &c. (e. j.)

GEXTOOS. See Bbahmins and India.

GEOGRAPHY.

The term Geography, is derived from two Greek words,
yiu. the earth, and y^a/pa I ivrite, and in its original accep-
tation signifies a descrifition of the earth. In the progress
of science, however, its meaning has become gradually
more' extended, and it is now taken to denote, not merely
an account of the divisions, produce, inhabitants, &c. of the
earth taken as one whole, but also the explanation of various
phenomena, arising from its relation to other bodies of the
solar system. It was indeed from discoveries respecting
the heavanly bodies, that inen first derived correct notions
with regard to the figure and magnitude of their own pla-
net ; and it is only by the appiication of astronomical prin-
ciples, that the apparently simplest of all geographical
problems can yet be solved, — that of accurately measuring,
or distinctly expressing, the distance between two points
on the surface of the earth. Astronomy and geography
have thus become intimately connected, not as two sciences
which have merely a certain affinity to each other, and
which philosophers, from a wish to generalize and simplify
the subjects of their investigation, have thought proper to
combine, bqt because the latter separated from the former
ceases to be a science. It is not n^erely for the language

of geography that we are indebted to astronomy. It is from
the same source, that we derive the method of constructing
a correct representation of the globe, determining the re-
lative position of different places on its surface, and exhibit-
ing a familiar view of the various changes that are conti-
nually taking place in its position and outward circum-
stances. In a system of geography, therefore, it is neces-
sary, in the first place, to consider the earth as a part of the
solar system ; to illustrate, from astronomical principles, its
figure, magnitude, and motion; to explain the construction
of the globes, with their application to the solution of prob-
lems ; and describe the various methods of projecting maps
and charts. This constitutes what is properly called Ala-
thematical Geography. The geographer may then pro-
ceed to consider the globe as one whole, and examine its
internal structure ; the natural divisions and inequalities of
its surface; the phenomena of tides and currents; the mo-
difications of its atmosphere with regard to weight, tempe-
rature, humidity, and motion, with other natural appear-
ances usually included under Physical Geogra/ihy. And,
in the last place, he may view it as the habitation of ani-
mated and rational beings, divided into different kingdoms

GEOGRAPHY.

599

and states, and exhibiting various monuments of human in-
dustry and skill. This forms what may be called Political
Geograf-ihy. In the followinij article, we shall confine our-
selves to the first of these, leavint;; physical (!;eograpliy to
be discussed under Physical Geography, Meteouology,
Mineralogy, &c. ; and political geography under the
names of the respective countries, and other articles,
where they will he treated more fully, and with greater
propriety, than they could possibly be in the present ar-
ticle. Before entering on the subject, however, it may be
proper to lake a short view of the origin and progress of
geographical discoveries.

In a rude state of society, it seems to have been the
universal opinion, that the earth was a large circular plane
or disc, every nation supposing itself to be placed in the
centre. Of the une.xplored parts of this plane various fanci-
ful and absurd opinions were entertained. The early
Gieeks,foi- example, imagined, that in tlie immense expanse
of the ocean numerous islands were scattered up and down,
inhabited by giants, pigmies, and a vast variety of other
beings, which never existed but in the extravagant dreams
of a fertile and untutored imagination; while the extreme
verge of the disc terminated in a chaotic gulf, of unknown
extent, and impenetrable darkness. The difliculties and
dangers which travellers and navigators at first encounter-
ed, in attempting to pass the limits of their own country,
and which they were on all occasions disposed to magnify,
served rather to confirm than refute these erroneous no-
tions. This remark is strikingly exemplified in the case of
the Phoenicians, who, as early as a thousand years before
the birth of Christ, iiad navigated the whole of the Medi-
terranean, from the eastern extremity to the Atlantic Ocean,
and had founded the colonies of Utica, Carthage, and
Gades. That bold and enterprising people, anxious to
reap the whole advantages of their discoveries, were care-
ful in concealing the success of their adventures, but took
all possible pains to magnify the dangers and difficulties
which they had encountered. Accordingly we find, that
long after this period the Greeks still regarded the islands.
in tlie western part of the Mediterranean, and even Sicily,
as the habitations of monsters, and the scenes of enchant-
ment. Nor did the discovery of their error in one instance,
lead them to suspect the accuracy of their opinions in ge-
neral. So firmly indeed were they persuaded of the truth
of that system, which the writings of their poets, and par-
ticularly of Homer, had rendered in some measure sacred,
that they no sooner became acquainted with a new region,
than they immediately transported to more distant islands
those fanciful beings, which they had at first erroneously
supposed to be inhabitants of places less remote. Even in
later times, when the true figure of the earth was under-
stood, the notions of the ancient Greeks, which were per-
haps common to all nations in similar circumstances, con-
tinued to pervade the writings of travellers, navigators,
and historians, and thus prejudice tended to suppress that
spirit of curiosity and adventure, which the discoveries of
science might otherwise have inspired. No motive per-
haps less powerful than avarice, could induce men to en-
gage in an expedition in defiance of difficulties and dan-
gers, against which they were taught to believe, that hu-
man strength and human prudence were equally unavail-
ing ; and when such expeditions were undertaken, it would
generally be by men little qualified, and still less disposed
to coiumunicate correct and interesting information to their
less adventurous brethren. In such circumstances, it does
not appear at all sui prising, that so many ages should have
elapsed, before any very extensive or regular intercourse
was established between difl'erent countries.

The first authentic account that we have of any consi-

derable portion of the earth's surface, is derived from the
writings of Moses. The object of that writer, indeed, was
not to leach men a system of geograpliy ; and therefore
the information which he afl'ords regards the earth, consi-
dered rather as the habitation of moral beings, llian as the
subject of physical research. We learn, iiuwever, from
his writings, that, 1700 years before Christ, a commercial
intercourse subsisted between the Midianites, whoinliabit-
cd the country on the northern extremity of the Persian
Gulf, and Egypt, by way of Palestine. From that period,
till within 500 years of the Christian era, the Hebrew wri-
tings make frequent allusions to tlie commerce of eastern
countries, and it is probable that the Phcenicians were at
this time acquainted with many countries, particularly to
the west, of which history makes no mention. The geo-
graphy of the Hebrews themselves, however, does iiot ap-
pear to have extended, at this period, beyond Mount Cau-
casus to the north, the entrance of the Hed Sea lo the
south, and the Archipelago to the west, including the
countries of Asia Minor, Armenia, Assyria, and Arabia in
Asia, with Egypt, and a little of Abyssinii in .-Mrica. The
Greeks, about the same period, reckoning Delphi the cen-
tre of the habitable world, were acquaiiited with little
more than the country included under the name Greece,
together with the islands in the Archipelago, llie western
part of Asia Minor, the seacoast of Egypt and Lybia in
Africa, and a little of the south of Italy. Beyond this cir-
cle all was involved in darkness and conjecture. With
regard to tiie Egyptians, with whom it has been supposed
that the science of geography originated, there are no au-
thenticated facts to show, that they had ever been distin-
guished for enterprise or adventure, previous to the period
of which we are speaking, still less that they had ever led
the way in geographical discoveries. From the peculiar
circumstances of their situation, they must have been ob-
liged, at an early period, to apply themselves lo topogra-
phy, as they did to geometry ; but there is every reason to
believe that, for theii knowledge of foreign countries, they
were indebted to the Phoenicians and others who visited
them for the purpose of commerce.

Such was the condition of the most enlightened nations
of the world with regard lo geographical knowledge, at
the commencement of the fifth century, before the birth of
Christ. In the course of the next seventy years, however,
many interesting and important discoveries were made by
the Greeks. Colonies of that people, either driven from
their native country by intestine commotion, or induced by
the prospect of wealth to go in quest of new settlemenls,
successively established themselves in Sicily, Sardinia,
Corsica, and even some of the southern provinces of
Spain. For their success in these enterprises, they are
said to have been greally indebted lo the geographical and
nautical charts which they contrived to obtain from the
Phoenicians, and which, with the sphere alleged to have
been constructed by Anaximander the Milesian, and disci-
ple of Thales, were the first attempts of which we have
any authentic information, towards delineating ihe whole,
or any considerable portion of the eartli's surface. But
whatever might have been the merits of Anaximander's
globe, or of the Phcenician maps, it is certain that the
Greeks had not borrowed from either, any correct notions
with regard to the figure of the earth. It was reserved
for Herodotus to contradict, from his own personal obser-
vations, the idea of the habitable world being a circular
plane, surrounded by the river Ocean. This distinguished
writer, who has been styled the father of history, and who,
as an attentive and intelligent traveller, has never been
surpassed, perhaps seldom equalled by any, either in an-
cient or modern limes, was a native of Halicarnaisus, in

600

GKOGRArHY.

lesser Asia. Inibibintj, in all pinbability, that spirit of
commercial ciilerprise for whicb liis countrymen were dis-
tinguished, and possessing confidence in himself siiflicient
to raise him above vulgar prejudices, and opinions not
founded in facts, lie pushed his researches into many coun-
tries, which till that time had never been explored. He
visited the Greek colonies on the Black Sea, and measured
the extent of the latter from the Bosphorus and the mouth
of the Phasis at the eastern extremity. He traversed the
country between the Borysthenes and Hypanis, now a part
of southern Russia, explored the coasts of the Palus
Moeotis, (sea of Azof) and obtained correct information
with regard to the situation and extent of the Caspian Sea.
He visited Babylon and Suza, and was well acquainted
with the greater part of the Persian monarchy. He tra-
velled through the whole of Egypt, where he obtained a
great deal of interesting information lespecting the cara-
vans from the interior of Africa, and also visited the Gre-
cian colonies of Cyrene. From his description of the
straits of Thermopylje, it is obvious that he had been in
Greece, and he traced the course of the Ister (Danube,)
from its mouth almost to its source. He terminated this
career of discovery and adventure, as useful to others as
honourable to himself, in the southern part of Italy, where
it is also supposed that he finished his much admired his-
tory.

In estimating the extent of the geographical information
furnished by Herodotus, we are by no means to limit it to
the circle wliich he described, and which we have just
traced out. Possessiiig in an eminent degree those quali-
fications which distinguish the intelligent traveller from
the mere tourist, he was enabled to collect much valuable
information respecting countries which he had no oppor-
tunity of visiting; and the accounts which he gives of
these countries have been confirmed by the most unques-
tionable of all evidence, the striking similarity in the cha-
racteristic features of their ancient and modern inhabitants.
Viewing it in this light, the geography of Herodotus ex-
tended to the greater part of Poland and European Russia,
western Tartary, the country on the Indus from its source
to the confines of the Cashmere, Arabia, and the northern
parts of Africa. He sometimes mentions Carthage, and
gives an account of a traffic carried on without the inter-
vention of language, between the Carthaginians and a na-
tion beyond the Pillars of Hercules, which has been consi-
dered as applicable to that of Senegambia. There is no-
thing explicit, however, in the text of Herodotus, with re-
gard either to the name or the situation of the country.

Before concluding this short review of the travels of
our author, it may not be improper to notice the informa-
tion which he gives, or is supposed to give, on three sub-
jects, which still continue to agitate the scientific world,
we mean the Niger, the Nile, and the pretended circum-
navigation of Africa by the Phoenicians. With regard to
the Niger, the only passage in Herodotus that can possibly
allude to this river, is the account which he gives on the
authority of Etearchus, king of the Ammonians, of a jour-
ney into the interior of Africa, undertaken by five young
Nasamons, a people situated at the extremity of the Gulf
of Sydra. These travellers having, in the first part of
their journey, passed through an inhabited country, came
to an immense sandy desert, through which they continued
their route westward, till they reached an extensive plain
covered with vegetation. While they were enjoying the
shade, and eating the fruit of the trees which they found
there, they were fallen upon by men of a very diminutive
size, who conducted them across a swampy country, till
they came to a town inhabited by black people, and situa-
ted on the bank of a large river, running from west to east.

Though the vague and indefinite nature of the account
itself, the authoiity on whicii it rests, and the circumstance
of its beuig obviously introduced for the purpose of prov-
ing tiiat the Nile runs from the west, tend to tlirow consi-
derable doubts on the truth, or at least the accuracy of this
relation, yet some eminent geographers are of opinion, that
the town mentioned above is no other than Tombuctoo,on
the banks of the Niger.

Of the Nile, Herodotus speaks with more precision;
and, as his information on this subject appears to have
been derived from personal observation, it is on this ac-
count entitled to more credit. After detailing at some
length the manner of ascending the river, an<l describing
minutely the nature and inhabitants of the countries through
which it passes before entering Egypt, he concludes by-
affirming that it certainly runs from the west, though he
acknowledges that beyond the country of the Automoles
it had never been explored. The Automoles, otherwise
called Asmach, were originally descended from a colony
of Egyptian fugitives, but, at the time of Herodotus, inha-
bited a province subject to the king of Ethiopia, and lying
as far to the south of his capital iVIeroe, as Meroe was
from the great cataract. According to Eratosthenes, and
other ancient geographers, this town was situated on an
island formed by the junction of the Atbar or Tacazze
with the Nile ; and this account is farther confirmed by
the testimony of Mr Biuce, who discovered magnificent
ruins to the north of Chandi, opposite the island of Kur-
gos. If this opinion be correct, it fixes the situation oi'
Meroe in 17 degrees of North latitude, about 6 degrees
south of the cataract, and 6 north of the Automoles. He-
rodotus, therefore, must have been acquainted with the
course of the western branch of the Nile, as far as the
eleventh parallel; and of its course beyond this, no sub-
sequent traveller has yet given any satisfactory information.

With regard to the circumnavigation of Africa by the
Phoenicians, Herodotus relates the story apparently as he
received it, without determining any thing as to its being
true or false. When Neco king of Egypt had completed
his famous canal between the Nile and the Arabian gulf,
he dispatched vessels manned with Phoenician sailors, who,
after navigating the ocean to the south of the Red Sea,
were to return to Egypt by the pillars of Hercules and the
Mediterranean. This they are said to have accomplished
in less than three years, including their stay on the coast of
Africa, while they sowed and reaped a crop of corn. On
their return, they related among other wonders, that in
sailing round Lybia, the sun appeared to be on their right.
" This," says Herodotus, " appears to me altogether in-
credible, but it may not perhaps appear so toothers." On
this passage it has been remarked by those, who are dis-
posed to admit the truth of the circumnavigation in ques-
tion, that the very circumstance which the historian rejects
as incredible, is one of the strongest arguments possible in
favour of the tradition. The truth of this remark is too
obvious to be disputed, and we are ready to admit the full
force of the argument which it alTords. At the same time
we cannot by any means consider it as decisive. The
Phoenicians, we think, might have sailed far enough to the
south in the Indian Ocean to have observed the phenome-
non of the sun to the north of the zenith, thoughthey had
never attempted, far less executed, the circumnavigation of
Africa ; and we cannot avoid observing in passing that they
who are disposed on all occasions to magnify the discove-
ries, and exalt the merits of the ancients, would do well to
be on their guard, lest they pull down with one hand what
they have taken pains to erect with the other. May not the
incredulity expressed by Herodotus with regard to the po-
sition of the sun, be brought forward with some plausibility,

GEOGRAPHY.

601

as presumptive evidence against the commonly received
opinion with regard to the extent of his own travels up the
Nile ? It is diflicult to conceive how lie could possil)ly have
advanced so far as to the eleventh parallel of latitude, with-
out having heard at least of the sun being observed to-
wards the north. To say that such a journey as this would
never be undertaken while the sun was advancing towards
the tropic of Cancer, on account of the overflowing of the
Nile, is hardly a satisfactory solution of the dilliculiy.

It has already been observed, that before the time of He-
rodotus, the Carthaginians had established a commercial
intercourse with some of the nations on the western coast
of Africa, though it is not exactly known when this inter-
course began, or how far it extended. There is reason,
however, to believe, that the voyage of Hanno, which some
say reached to the mouth of the Senegal, was not earlier
than the end of the fifth, or beginning of the fourth century
before Christ, and that it was about the same time that the
Carthaginians first became acquainted with the Canaries,
♦he northern provinces of Spain, and the British islands. The
latter, indeed, had, in all probability, been visited at a much
earlier period by the Phoenicians, who carried on a lucra-
tive trade in »>i with the inhabitants of Cornwall. During
this same period, the Greeks continued to cultivate geogra-
phy with ardour and success. Hippocrates, the celebrated
physician of Cos, retracing the footsteps of Herodotus, and
sometimes penetrating beyond his predecessor, collected
many valuable observations on the temperature and humi-
dity of different climates as affecting the human constitu-
tion, and may perhaps be justly styled the father of physical
geography. The subject in all its bearings wanted only to
be reduced to a regular and systematic form, to be placed
on a footing with the other sciences, and fortunately tiie ex-
ecution of this task fell to one, who of all men, perhaps,
was the best qualified to do it justice. Aristotle, directing
towards it the energies of his powerful nii?ul, stamped
a value on the discoveries and observations of others, which
till his time they had never possessed. He collected and
combined the whole of these facts into one system of geo-
graphical knowledge, deduced from them the spherical
figure of the earth, (the fundamental principle of all geo-
graphy,) and in this simple form put the science, along with
others, into the hand of his royal pupil, to smooth the
march of conquest, and make some reparation for the vio-
lated libeities of mankind.

The expedition of Alexander constitutes an era in the
history of ancient geography. As eager to be thought the
patron of science as the conqueror of the world, he was
careful on all occasions to blend the two characters, and
judiciously left to posterity an accurate geographical ac-
count of his expeditions, as the most durable monument
of his military glory. His successors indeed, however
anxious they were to imitate him in other respects, did not
shew the same predilection for literary fame, lint from
the school which he established in Alexandria, the light of
science continued to emanate with increasing splendour ;
and even to one of his generals, Seleucus Nicanor, who
carried his victorious arms from the Indus, where Alexan-
der's expedition terminated, to the mouth of the Ganges,
geography was not a little indebted. His ambassadors
Mcgasthcnes and Uaimachus, who were sent to Palibothra,
the capital of a large kingdom on the Ganges, and thought
to be the Allahabad, or according to others, Baliputra of
modern India, collected a great deal of iinportant informa-
tion with regard to the natural history of the country, as
well as the manners of the inhabitants. The spirit of com-
mercial enterpiise, which prevailed particularly in (ireece
fUiring the century after Alexander's death, served not
onlv to keep up a constant intercourse with the countries

Vol. IX. P.M'T 11.

thus discovered, but also to extend the boundaries of gco-
grajihy to others befoic unknown. Tlie Grecian kijigs ol
Egypt carried on a regular trade with India and Tapro-
bane (Ceylon,) while the Caithaginians extended their
commerce along the western coast, as well as into the inte-
rior of Africa. The Romans also, having obtained posses-
sion of all Italy, began to aspire after foreign conquest.
Their expeditions against Carthage made them acquainted
with Africa, and what was of still greater consequence,
taught them the construction and management of ships.
In the Macedonian war they ac(|uired a knowledge of
Greece, and rendered themselves formidable in Asia Minor
by the defeat of Antiochus. Their subseejuent conquests
were still more important in a geographical pomt of view.
Julius Ca;sar gave the earliest and the most accurate ac-
count of the interior of Gaul and the south of Britain, Ger-
manicus penetrated as far as the Elbe, and Elius Gallus
traversed the interior of Arabia. Thus, by the commence-
ment of the Christian aera, geography had received a vast
accession, not merely in extent, but it point of accuracy.
Countries that had only been heard of from the casual visit
of a solitary traveller, or misrepresented by the selfish po-
licy of the avaricious trader, were now familiarly known
from the march of victorious armies, whose leaders were
as anxious to describe as to conquer, and by a happy com-
bination of events, a Strabo arose to transmit an account
of all these discoveries to posterity. Of the elegant
and learned work of this celebrated writer, we cannot
pretend to give any thing like an analysis ; and indeed
no analysis could do it justice. We have only to ob-
serve, that the portion of the globe which he describes is
bounded on the north by the Baltic, towards the east by
the Ganges, and on the south nearly by the line joining
the mouth of that river with the mouth of the Senegal.
Of course his description of all the countries contained
within these limits cannot be equally minute, nor is he
always accurate in his delineation of those that were more
perfectly known. He is frequently mistaken with regard to
the situation of particular places, the course of rivers, and
the direction of chains of moiuitains. These, however, are
errors which will readily be overlooked, when we consider
the period at which the work was composed, a period when
the traveller had to struggle with difliculties in all inland ex-
peditions, and the geographer laboured under disadvanta-
ges from the want or the imperfection of instruments, of
which moderns can hardly form an idea.

The only other subject which we would notice as con-
nected with this period of ancient geography, is the situa-
tion of the much disputed Thule. Pytheas, a navigator of
Marseilles, who lived a short time before Alexander the
Great, after having explored the east, or as he thought the
north-cast coast of Britain, continued his voyage, as he
says, to the north, that is to the north-east, and after six
days fell in with land which he oalls Thuie or Thylc, and
which he states to be 46,300 stadia from the equator. The
situation of this place hasTong been a disputed point both
with ancient and modern writers, and the difficulty arises
from not knowing, in the first place, which of the ancient
stadia is here meant, and secondly, what was the precise
length of the stadiuin. The different kinds of stadia
in use among the ancients, are generally reduced, by mo-
dern geographers, to four, but the respective lengths of
these have by no means been accurately determined.
Without, however, entering into a detail of the various
opinions which have been entertained on the subject, we
shall merely stale that of an eminent writer, which is per-
haps as accurate as any other. This author (M. Gosselin)
supposes, that of the longest stadia 666|. were equal to one
degree of the etiualur, of the second kind 700, of the third

4 G

602

GEOGRAPHY.

833i, and of the fourth or Egyptian llll-j,-. Applying;
these diil'crcnt measures successively to Pytlieas's account,
Avc sliall have for the latitude of 'I'hule 69° 27'; 66° 8';
55° 34', and 41° 40'. Of these results (he third appears to
be the most probable, as it determines Thule to be on the
west coast of Jutland, and as it is to Jutland only that Pa-
theas's description can at Ml apply. He says, for example,
that there the sea, the earth, and the air, seem to be con-
founded in one element; a description strikingly appli-
cable to the downs of Jutland, where the sand is frequently
driven about with violent winds, and being scattered over
the surface of the marshes, conceals from the unwary tra-
veller the gulf beneath. His account of the produce of
the country is equally applicable ; and the whole is render-
ed more probable, from there being in Jutland, about a de-
gree farther north than the situation of Thulc, as now de-
termined, a part of the coast still denominated Thy or Thy-
land, and in the ancient lai'.guage of Scandinavia, Thiuland.
Other arguments might be urged in favour of this opinion,
]iotwithstanding the scepticism of Strabo, and other ancient
geographers ; but more, perhaps, has already been said on
the subject than is cci.sistent with the nature of our plan.
See FouLAH.

For some time after the commencement of the Christian
era, the progress of geographical discovery was neither
rapid nor very extensive. The Romans liad by this time,
indeed, subdued the greater part of the known world, and
had consequently a great deal in their power with regard to
the advancement of science. But their attention was di-
rected more to what they already knev/rthan what they
might still have to discover. They soon began to perceive
that conquests were more easily made than retained, and
that, by attempting to gain more, they might eventually
lose what they already possessed. They had therefore no
longer any inducement to extend their researches into fo-
reign countries for the purpose of conquest, scarcely even
for military renown; and thus geography was deprived of the
aid which it had formerly derived from a spirit of military
adventure, and to which, more than any other circumstance,
perhaps, it was indebted for its success. Nor had the Ro-
mans the same temptation as formerly to explore unknown
regions, for the purpose of commerce. Asiaconunued long
to supply them in abundance with every luxury which they
could desire, through the ordinary channel; and while that
supply kept pace with the demand, it was not to be ex-
pected that they would .give themselves much trouble
either about discovering new countries, or exploring new
channels of communication with such as were already
known to them. Add to all this, that geographical disco-
very was approaching that point, when its farther extension
could only be looked for in the event of some new and im-
portant improvement in the art of navigation, or some dis-
covery in those sciences on which it chiefly depends. But
though these circumstances were sufficient to prevent the
Romans from extending in any great degree the sphere of
geographical knowledge, they were by no means inattentive
to the cultivation of the science in general. The civil and
military establishments which they were obliged to main-
tain in all the conquered provinces, and the security which
trade enjoyed under a regular and efficient government,
gave rise to a closer and more regular intercourse among
all the countries which composed the empire, than had
ever been known at any former period. Were we indeed
to point out the limits of Roman geography, we should
probably not include a much greater extent than has been
already assigned to that of Strabo. But in point of accuracy
and minute detail, the difference is considerably in favour of
the former. They were well acquainted with all the coun-
tries on the Danube ant,! the Vistula, nor was the Rha or

Wolga unknown to thcni, though sometimes confounded
with the Tanais or Don. Of the intermediate space, con-
taining Scylhia, Sannalia, and Dacia, we have accounts
from various Roman writers, though it is obvious that in
many things they follow Herodotus. Their knowledge of
the countries on the southern coasts of the Baltic, as well
as Jutland, then called Cimbria Chersoncsus, was tolera-
bly accurate with regard to situation and extent; but the
origin and names of the different nations were by no means
well ascertained, and notwithstanding the labours of mo-
dern geographers and critics, they are still involved in dark-
ness and confusion. The Romans little thought, in the
meridian of their glory, that they were ultimately to fall a
sacrifice to the ravages of nations so barbarous as to be
without the limits of the civilized world, and so rude as to
be incapable of commimicating to others any account of
their own origin or early history. Of the countries to the
north of the Baltic, the Romans knew comparatively little.
The southern part of Sweden was denominated Scandia,
and was considered as an island of unknown extent. It
seems, indeed, to have been the general opinion, that the
Baltic was part of the northern ocean, containing an archi-
pelago of large islands, and it may perhaps be inferred
from this oi)ii)ion, that their geographical knowledge, in
this direction, did not extend beyond the large lakes in the
south of Sweden, and the entrance of the gulf of Bothnia.
Proceeding westward, the next country we meet with in the
geography of the Romans is Britain, of which we have a
very minute account, comprehending not only the main-
land of England and Scotland, but also Ireland, the Isle of
M.ui.thc Western Islands, and the Orkneys. Ptolemy speaks
of Thule as situ;'.ted to the north-east of Britain, by which
he has been understood as meaning one of the Shetland
islands. It cannot, however, be inferred from this, that the
Romans were really acquainted with these islands. Of
Gaul and the other western countries of Europe, itis hard-
ly necessary to take any notice, the Roman accounts of
these being familiar to every body.

From the west of Europe we naturally pass to Africa,
and we find that the Romans were acquainted with about
one-third of that continent. Pliny, from a statement by
Agi ippa, estimates the breadth from not th to south, through
Cyr.jnaica and the country of the Garamantes, that is from
Barca towards Bournu, at 910 Roman miles, a distance
from the Mediterranean which falls considerably short of
the Niger. It appears, however, that they were not alto-
gether ignorant of that river in another direction. Pliny,
on the authority of Juba, king of Mauritania, mentions that
the Nile rises from a lake in the interior of that country,
and that, after running under ground through a desert of
twenty days journey in extent, it makes its appearance
again on the confines of Ethiopia, where its source is call-
ed Nigris. From this modern geographers have conclud-
ed, that tlie desert here mentioned is th.e great desert of
Sahara, that what Pliny calls the Nile is only a small river
running along the south side of Mount Atlas, and thrt its
pretended reappearance is no other than the source of the
Niger or Joliba. In this our reade'rj will recognise the
opinion of Herodotus, expressed in a more detailed form,
that the Niger and the Nile are the same river, and they
will also observe, that the Roman geographers, in the time
of Piiny, were not better acquainted with the western part
of Africa, than their rivals the Carthaginians had been.
Ptolemy, indeed, distinctly mentions the Niger, and enu-
merates some of the towns situated on its banks, as Tuca-
bath, Nigira, Ta-Gana and Panagra, in which later geo-
graphers have discovered the modern tovais of Tombuc-
too, Cashnah, Ganah, and Wangara; but even his account
of tlje interior is very partial and indistinct. Of the Ca-

GEOGKAPHY.

603

naries, the Romruis uncloiibtctlly knew more than the Car-
thaginians, thouj^h these islands were s'.iil regurcled tno
much iis the rei^ion of fiction. Tliey were called in gene-
ral the Fortunate Iislcs, a. name famous with the poets, and
perhaps too IVctinently eni[)l()yed in the more sober details
of the historian. Among the parlicuhtr names, wc find
Canaria and Nivaiia, the former obviously the same with
modern Canary, the latter, perhaps, denoting Tenerifl'c
v,itii its snowy summit. On the eastern side of Africa, the
geography of the Romans was neitiicr very distinct nor
very extensive. They seem to have been acquainted with
the Nile, as far as the Automales of Herodotus, but not
to have penetrated farther. On the shores of the Indian
ocean, their navigation terminated at the promontory of
Prasum, a point which Ptolemy represents as lying to the
south of the equator, but which, from a careful investi.
gation of the measures employed by him, is found to cor-
respond with Cape Brava, two degrees to the north of the
line.

When we turn to .\sia, we find the geographical im-
provements of the Romans much iiKH'e interesting in a
scientific point of view, as well as more important in re-
gard to commerce. These improvements may be almost
wholly ascribed to the discovery of tlie monsoons, by which
the communication with India was completely altered, and
the trade of that rich and luxurious country prodigiously
extended. Embarking at the Egyptian ports on the Red
Sea, and passing the stiaitsof Babel-mandcl, the merchant
■was cariied by tlie south-west monsoon, or Hippalus, so
called from its discoverer, directly to the peninsula of Ilin-
dostan, and back again by the Vulturnus, or north-east
inonsoon, in the course of the same year. This navigation
was first undertaken during the reign of Augustus, till
which lime the route to India was either across the desert
from Syria to the Euphrates, down the Persian gulf and
along the northern coast of the Arabian sea to the mouth
of the Indus; or farther to the north by the Caspian sea,
and the Oxus or Jihon. Some ancient writers represent
the latter as much more easily accomplished than it could
possibly have been, by supposing that the Oxus fell into
the Caspian Sea, or rather that Lake Aral was a gulf of
that sea. But even if this had been the case, the conveyance
of merchandise by such a route, musThave been exceed-
ingly slow, expensive, and precarious, compared with the
direct course across the Arabian Sea. By the latter, also,
the western coast of the peninsula of India became better
known, and opened the way for other discoveries in the in-
terior as well as on the Bay of Bengal. The whole ex-
lent of country south of the line joining the mouth of the
Indus and the mouth of the Ganges, was soon explored,
and is described with considerable minuteness by Pliny
and Ptolemy. Of the north of India, the accounts of these
writers are extremely vague; but it appears that Thibet
was pretty well known under the name of Serica. On this
subject, indeed, there has been much learned disquisition
among critics and geographers, some supposing, as we
have now slated, that Serica included Thibet, with part of
the north of India, while ethers consider it as denoting
China. This last opinion is chiefly founded on liic calcu-
lations of Ptolemy, by which Ssrica appears to be situated
in the middle of the Pacific Ocean ; but these calculations
are obviously in direct contradiction, not only to Pliny, but
to Ptolemy himself. According to the foiiner, Asia ter-
minated a little to the east of the Gai -^es and the north of
the Caspian Sia; and he distinctly says that the Seres in-
habit the middle of the eastern regions, of which the Scy-
thians and Indians occupy the two extremes. The btter
also describes Serica as hounded on the east by unexplor-
ed countries, and on the south by the mountains of Einon-

dns, (the modern Emod, lleina, or lliiiimala), which sepa-
rate it fioiri India. It is unnecessaiy to ohsi;j've, that nei-
ther of these accounts can possibly apply to China, while
both arc accurate if understood of Thiliet. « Here, then,"
to use the words of a modern geographer, "among tlie
Alps of Asia, and on the borders of the great destrt of
Shamo, expired the last ray of tne geographical knowledge
of the ancients."

To pursue the history of geography through the period
on which we are novv about to enter, would he lo trace the
decay of every thing dignified and ennobiing, and to mark
the progress of ignorance and barbarism, triumphing over
science and civiliz.ilion. We should find, in the course of
a few centuries, tlie inhabitants of the whole civilized
world co.iiplelely extirpated, and succeeded by a race of
men who knew nothing of themselves farther back than
their recollection carried them, and nothing of the rest of
mankind but what they learned during their career of vic-
tory and bloodshed. We should perceive the termination
of all friendly intercourse among different countries, and
wars carried on no longer with a view to conquer and ci-
vilize, but to extirpate and destroy. It is not consistent,
however, either with the nature or the limits of the present
article to enter into a minute detail of tiie circumstances
that conspired to accelerate the destruction of the Roman
empire, or enumerate the vai-ious tribes that took ijosses-
sion of the different countries of Europe, and the revolu-
tions that look place in tlicir manners and form of govern-
ment. We shall only observe, tlicrefore, that during the
latter period of the Roman history, literature and the fine
arts had in a great measure banished the cultivation of
science, and the ardour of curiosity, so necessary in all la-
borious researches, but particularly for geographical dis-
covery, had degenerated into a love of indolence and ease.
A great deal still remained to be done by active and enter-
prizing adventurers, before the science of geography could
be successfully prosecuted in the retirement of an acade-
my; but enterprize and adventure were no longer to be
found among a people enervated by every species of luxu-
ry and dissipation. We find, accordingly, that from the
time of Ptolemy, till the overthrow of the Roman empire,
there is scarcely a single fact on record that deserves a
place in the history of geographical discoveries. From
that period, the progress of all knowledge was retrograde.
The monuments of learning that had been reared by the
persevering labours of many ages, were successively over-
thrown ; till Alexandria itself, the last refuge of persecuted
science, fell a sacrifice to the merciless fury of a barbarous
lunatic. The work of devastation was now complete, 'i'he
last faint glimmerings of intellectual light were extinguish-
ed, and the gross perversion of religious principle in Eu-
rope, with the establisl-.ment of a false system in Asia,
threatened to perpetuate that darkness which had envelop-
ed the civilized world.

Such was the state, and such the prospect, of literature
and science about the middle of the seventh century. There
was still one country, however, which had not yet felt the
shock ol revolution, and from which the light of science
was again destined to emanate. Arabia, from time imme-
morial, had preserved its independence ; and while tlie rest
of the civilized world was hurrying iato decay, it continued
to enjoy its ancient laws and privileges, and made consi-
derabir progress in many of the useful arts. Even the es-
tablishment of Mahometanism, at first so fatal in its opera-
tion, and which, like every other false system of religion,
might have been supposed inimical to the progress of
science, eventually contributed to the advancement of geo-
grapiilcal knowledge. The Arabians, possessing a great
extent ol seacoast, had from a very early period carried on
4 G 3

604.

GKOGllAPHY.

an extensive trade, wliicli was considerably increased by
tbc conquests of Mahomet and his immediate successors.
In their eagerness to propagate the doctrines of Islamism,
tlic Arabian caliphs extended their arms to the pillars of
Hercules in the west, and tlie banks of the Ganges in the
cast, and thus geographical discovery was once more asso-
ciated with its most powerful ally, a spirit of military and
commercial adventure. By the middle of the ninth centu-
ry, the Arabians had formed settlements in dificrent parts
of China, and established an intercourse with Madagascar,
the Maldives, Ceylon, Sumatra, Java, and other oriental
islands. Nor was it to geography, considered in a commer-
cial point of view, that their attention was exclusively di-
rected. Their generals had orders to procure geographi-
cal ac( omits of all the countries which they subdued; and
we find the Caliph Al iVlamon, as early as 833, obtaining
the measurement of a degree of latitude in the desert of
Sandgair, for the purpose of ascertaining the magnitude of
the earth.

Wiiile the followers of Mahomet were thus extending
the boundaries of geography in Asia, a spirit of enterprise
seemed for a time to break out in the north of Europe.
The earliest account of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden,
on which any reliance can be placed, is that giveri by Al-
fred king of England, towards the end of the 9th century.
This account is chiefly founded on the information of cer-
tain Norman adventurers, who finding the southern parts
of Europe already in possession of their own countiy-
men, were forced to betake themselves to maritime expe-
ditions in quest of ne-v settlements. These adventurers
gradually extending their researches into the Northern
Ocean, discovered Greenland and the Shetland isles, on
both of which they planted colonies, about the end of the
10th century. In the year 1001, Biorn, a Norman navigator,
while steering round the coast of Greenland in search of
his father, was driven by a storm a considerable way to the
south-west, where he fell in with land, afterwards called
\'inland,and supposed to be part of North America. Sub-
sequent voyages to the same jdace tend to confirm this opi-
nion, particularly that of the Zeni, two noble Venetian bro-
thers, who, in the account of their adventure in 1390, de-
scribe a country called by them Estotiland, corresponding
in every respect with Vinland, and agreeing in many points
also with Newfoundland in North America. From this
circumstance it has been inferred, that Columbus, in his
anticipations of a western continent, was guided by some-
thing more decisive than bare conjecture. But whatever
truth there may be in this supposition, it seems to be ge-
nerally admitted, that the Normans had at a very early pe-
riod landed on the coast of America. The consequences of
the discovery, however, were neither interesting nor im-
portant. Europe still continued ignorant and inactive, or
engaged in pursuits suited only to an age of ignorance and
barbarism. Even when her energies were awakened by the
crusading mania towards the end of the 1 1th century, they
promised to be productive of little benefit to the cause of
literature and science. The professed object of the cru-
sades was in itself chimerical, and it is diflicult to say what
advantage would have resulted from them, had they been
completely successful. But though the immediate effects
of these fanatical expeditions are still somewhat problema-
tical, there can be no doubt that they were ultimately bene-
ficial in a commercial point of view. It was in order to
supply the crusaders with stores and ammunition, that the
tienoese were first tempted to cultivate the art of ship-
building, which foi' many centuries had been almost totally
neglected, and to extend their short coasting expeditions to
the most distant extremity of the Mediterranean. The same
enterprising people having afterwards succeeded in re-es-

tablishing the Greeks on the throne of Constantinople, were
rewarded with certain exclusive privileges in the way of
commerce. By this event, their rivals the Venetians, who
had shared vvith them the advantages of a trade with India
nearly by the same route as was formerly known to the Ro-
ntans, were excluded from the navigation of the Black Sea,
The monopoly, however, was in this case beneficial to the
cause of commerce. The Venetians, by concluding a treaty
with the Sultan of Egypt, opened a communication with
India l)y the Hed Sea; and Alexandria soon became the
grand depot of commerce, as it had formerly been the re-
treat of literature and science.

While the consequences of the crusades were thus ap-
parent in exciting a spirit of enterprise in the commercial
world, there were not wanting men who, actuated by mo-
tives very different from those of avarice, or even curiosity,
contributed from time to time to extend the boundaries of
geography in the East. These consisted of ecclesiastics,
who, animated by a sincere though mistaken zeal for pro-
moting the doctrines of a corrupted church, undertook
long and painful journies into countries which European
commerce had not yet reached, and endeavoured, by the
more captivating method of persuasion, to propagate opi-
nions, which the sword had in vain attempted to impose.
From the accounts of these missionaries, scanty and unsa-
tisfactory as they frequently were, a great deal of informa-
tion was obtained respecting the interior of Asia, particu-
larly the north of India and Tartary. Among those who
chiefly distinguished themselves in these expeditions, the
first place is due to Marc-Paul, a noble Venetian of the
loth century. This celebrated traveller set out with his
father Nicolas Paul, who had already acquired considerable
reputation as a missionary to the East, and some Domini-
can monks, in 1271, and after 2G years spent in unremitted
labour, during which time he not only traversed those
coun'.vies that were already known, and explored many new
regions on the continent of Asia, but also visited Borneo,
Java, Sumatra, the Nicol)ar islands, Ceylon, Madagascar,
and other islands in the Pacific and Indian Ocean, till then
unknown to Europeans, returned to Italy, where he was
soon after made prisoner in a war with the Genoese. It was
during his captivity in Genoa, that he wrote the account of
his travels ; a work which, though composed in a very irre-
gular and confused manner, continued long to be the guide
of Europeans in all matters relating to oriental countries.
Of himself and his writings it has been justly observed,
that he was the father of the modern geography of Asia, the
Humboldt of the loth century, though the misfortunes of
the latter part of his life, by preventing him from publishing
a more accurate and systematic account of his travels, have
thrown a shade over the glory of his own name, and robbed
science of the advantages which she might otherwise have
derived from his labours.

Passing over the other events of the loth and 14th cen-
turies, as presenting nothing very striking or important, we
hasten forward to a period of all others the most brilliant
and interesting in the history of geographical discovery.
About the beginning of the I5th century, the Portuguese
began to attiact the notice of the other European states,
by the glory of their military exploits, and the fame of
their naval discoveiies. Having succeeded in driving out
their inveterate enemies and oppressors, the Moors, they
carried their arms into Africa, wi.ere their achievements
were such as might -..ive been expected from a combina-
tion of every motive that could lead to acts of fearless bra-
very. Religious zeal inflamed them with the desire of ex-
tirpating the enemies of the Christian faith; avarice inspir-
ed them with the hope of shai'ing the treasures of a rich
and powetiul people ; and a spirit of chivalrous and roman-

GEOGUAPHY.

605

tic gallantry threw a charm over military enterprise, more
powerful perhaps than either of the other lirinclples. Tlie
youthful adventurer of every country ranged himself under
the standard of Portugal, and courted the approbation of
his mistress by deeds of valour on the shores of Africa.
Success in such circumstances could be neither slow nor
uncertain, and every new victory led the way to a new ex-
pedition. The coast of Africa as far as Cape Nun, had
been formerly explored more than once ; but all beyond
that was still enveloped in impenetrable darkness. The art
of navigation, however, from the discovery of the compass,
was rapidly improving; and the daring spirit of enterprise
that had just been awakened, could no longer be confined
within the former limits. In attempting to extend their dis-
coveries towards the south, the Portuguese fell in with,
and took possession of Madeira, in 1420 ; and in 1433, Cape
Nun was doubled for the first time by Gilianez. It is ge-
nerally supposed, that in the same year the Azores, or Wes-
tern Islands, were discovered, though on this point geo-
graphers are by no means agreed.

The discoveries of the Portuguese along the coast of
Africa, though not very rapid, became after this period pro-
gressive. In 1445 they reached the Senegal; and in 1455
discovered the Cape Verd Islands. A short time after
this, Pierre de Cintra penetrated as far as Cape IVIesurada,
where the coast of Africa stretching towards the east, pro-
mised a speedy accomplishment of the great object of all
their expeditions, the circumnavigation of Africa. It was
just at the dawn of these hopes, that the death of Prince
Henry, the author of all the grand projects of the Portu-
guese, threatened to put an end to exeilions equally ho-
nourable to his country, and beneficial to the interests of
science. The spirit of the prince, however, had by this
time been communicated to the nation, and the progress of
discovery scarcely suffered any interruption. Prince's
Island, St Thomas, and Annobon, were discovered in 1471 ;
in 1484, Diego Cam entered the river Zaire, or Barbela, in
the kingdom of Congo ; and finally in 1486, fifty-three years
after Gilianez had first doubled Cape Nun, Barthelemy
Diaz reached the sovrthcrn point of Africa, which he named
the Stormy Cajie, but which King John II. afterwards more
properly denominated the Cajie of Good Ilo/ic.

Wliile the slow progress of the Portuguese in exploring
the west coast of Africa has generally been accounted for
from the imperfect state of navigation at that period, it has
also been considered by some geographers, as a conclusive
argument against the pretended circumnavigation of Africa
by the Phoenicians, it being quite incredilile, in their opi-
nion, that the latter should have been able to accomplish in
three years, twice as much as the Portuguese, with the as-
sistance of the compass, could effect in half a century.
Without at all entering again into the merits of the ques-
tion, we would observe, that the conclusion drawn from the
preceding fact is by no means legitimate. The Portuguese,
in all their expeditions, seem to have confined themselves
chiefly to the coast, where the compass could be of com-
paratively little use ; and there can be no doubt, we think,
that in every thing connected with coasting navigation, the
PhccniciRns had acquired much greater skill and dexterity
than the Portuguese could possibly have at the commence-
ment of their African expedlttons. But to proceed with
tlieir discoveries.

In 149", Vasco deGama was dispatched for the purpose
of exploring a passage to India by the Cape of Good Hope,
at the same time invested with a commission to conclude a
treaty with Prester John, whom the Portuguese supposed
to be the prince of Abyssinia, or some other country on
the eastern coast of Africa. That celebrated navigator, af-
ter touching successively at Port Natal, Mosambique, and

Melinda, obtained pilots at the last of these places, and tra-
versing the Araljian Sea, in 1498, landed at Calicut, on the
Malabar coast, the whole of which he soon aftei' explored.
About 1506, succeeding navigators pushed their discoveries
along the eastern coast of Africa, as far as the straits of
Babelmandel, and thus completed tlie circumnavigation of
that continent. In the same year they discovered Ceylon,
and in 15 11 established themselves in Malacca. Their dis-
coveries after this period are too numerous to be ])articu-
larized. It is enough to observe, that by 1520 they liad vi-
sited the Sunda islands, the- Moluccas, Philippines, and in-
deed almost all the islands to the south-east and east of
Asia, as far north as the thirtieth degree of latitude. Their
^being prohibited from entering China, probably led to the
discovery of many islands in the Pacific at a much earlier
period than would have happened, had the Portuguese
been permitted to open a commercial intercourse with that
country.

While geographical discovery was making such rapid
progress in the East, the West also had become the scene
of very interesting and important events, by the vast and
daring projects of Columbus. Hitherto the course of na-
vigators, in all voyages of discovery, had been determined
by the direction of the coast, and was probably, for the most
part, within sight of land ; but Columbus, leaving the guid-
ance of the shore, and trusting to the compass alone, ven-
tured across an ocean of unknown extent, in search of a
continent whose existence was extremely doubtful. In or-
der still further to excite our admiration of this extraordi-
nary man, it has been said, that he was strongly impressed
with the idea of there being a great western continent, and
attempts have even been made to point out the train of rea-
soning by which a man of genius might be naturally led to
forrH such an opinion. We do not think, however, that the
character and merits of Columbus require any adventitious
support of this kind. If the circumstances to which we
have already alluded respecting the adventure of the Zeni,
in 1390, be well founded, it proves, that Columbus was not
less distinguished for prudence than for intrepidity ; and if
it be false, we apprelicnd that his adventure is to be as-
cribed to an error common to him with Aristotle and many
of the ancients, that the eastern extremity of Asia was not
far distant from the shores of Spain. But whatever was the
origin or the nature of the opinion formed by Columbus on
this subject, it is certain, that he undertook his voyage un-
der a strong conviction of his ultimate success; and it is a
curious coincidence, that at the very time when Vasco de
Gama was taking possession of the peninsula of Hindostan
in the name of the King of Portugal, Columbus was adding
a new continent to the kingdom of Spain. It is unnecessary
here to detail the circumstances connected with the disco-
very of America, as we have already done so in another
part of our work, (See America and Columbus.) We
cannot, however, avoid noticing the striking contrast which
the history of that period exhibits, between the specula-
tions of a few bold and aspiring individuals, and the childish
prejudices which still enslaved the great bulk ofmankir.d.
While Columbi's supposed that the nearest route to the
eastern shores of Asia was by the western ocean, the Pope
imagined, that, by a line of demarcation drawn on one side
of the globe, he had completely separated the discoveries
of the Spaniards and Portuguese !

Though Spain, in exploring a nearer passage to the East
Indies, had discovered and taken possession of a new con-
tinent, she did not relax her endeavours to eflect her first
object. Accordingly, in 1520, Magellan was sent out on
another voyage of discovery, when he succeeded in pass-
ing the extremity of South America by the strait which
still bears his came, and pursuing his voyage westward,

Q06

GEOGRAPHY.

renclicd ilic islands on tlic cast coast of Asia. After liis
deatl), whicli liappciied at one of the Fliilippiiies, his com-
panions continiifd their course, and, after touchiiii^ at tlie
Moluccas, returned by the Cape of Good Hope, liavini^ ac-
complished the first navii^ution of tiie s^iobe in I12t days.
The attempts of the Spaniards to discover a passage by ihe
north of Anieiica were not so successful. Some indeed
have imagined, from their description of the Strait of Anian,
that it was lihcring'b Straits which they had reached by the
north-west ; but is it obvious that this strait was no other
than Hudson's Strait, about tlie.position of wliich the navi-
gators of that period had iurmcd sojne erroneous notions.

The success tliat had hitherto attended the adventures of
the Sjsaniards and Portui;;uese soon stimulated other na-
tions, |)articularly such as had thrown off the Papal yoke,
to undertake similar expeditions. In 1578, Sir Francis
Drake discovered the southern oUremity of 'I'crra del
Fuego, with some parts on the western coast of America,
and completed the circumnavigation of the globe in 1051
days. In 155 6, some English navigators, in seeking a
north-east passage to India, fell in with Nova Zcmbla, and
about the same time the Dutch discovered Spitzbergen.
Of the discovery of New Holland, or Australasia, various
opinions have been entertained, some ascribing it to Oon-
neville in 1503, others to Menezes, a Portuguese navigator,
in 1527 ; but the first authentic account of a landing on the
coast is by Captain Dirk Hariigh, a Dutchman, in 1616,
(See Australasia ) It would be tedious to enumerate
the various voyages of discovery, as well as land travels,
that have been undertaken by dilfcrent nations since the
commencement of the 17tli century, and still more so to
give a catalouge of the islands and countries with which
their labours have made us acquainted. We cannot con-
clude this sketch, however, without n)entioning the names
of Cook, Flinders, and Park, who may all be justly denomi-
nated martyrs in the cause of geographical discovery.
With Captain Cook's discoveries in the South Sea, Cap-
tain Flinders' expedition to the south of Australasia, and
Mr Park's interesting travels in Africa, our readers can-
not fail to be acquainted. Cook, indeed, has been accused,

by some French writers, of having entertained a mean
jeulousy of other navigators, unbecoming in any man, but
particular unworthy of one who had deserved so well, and
enjoyed so much of the grateful admiration of mankind.
But the history of his successor proves, that even those
who are loudest in tiieir jjraises of liberality, and the most
strenuous advocates for the m^\\iii, /la/mam qui meruit fe-
ral, arc not always pro'jf against the pitiful and degruiing
v..nity of attributing to tiiemstlvcs the di->cove! ies made by
another. At the very moment that the accusation above
alluded to was brouglu against Cook,, the accusers them-
selves were joining a national league to deprive the deep-
ly injured Captain Flinders of his hard earned glory, as
they had before done of iiis freedom and his pi-opcrty. Ac-
cident and misfortune threw him into their Irjnds in the isle
of France, w here he was, in violation of every law, both of
hospitality and humanity, detamed a prisoner, and treated
as a criminal for more than six years, obviously for no other
purpose but to afford time to the French navigators, who
had followed his track under the protection of British pass-
ports, to publish the account of discoveries wliich had been
stolen fi'om another. Justice indeed has at length extort-
ed an acknowledjjment of the fraud, and the geographers
of other countries are erasing from their charts the names,
by wnich the authors of this mfamous plot thought to im-
mortalise themselves at the ex|)enceof an individual. This
much was due to the merits and memory of Captain Flin-
ders, and a triumph more honourable or more complete,
the friends and admirers of that lamented navigator can
neither desire nor expect. But what expiation will ever
wipe away from the character of a great nation, the blot
which it has sustained, by permitting itself to be either de-
luded or wilfully drawn into a participation of such base-
ness, as to lend its sanction to an imposition, the most abo-
minable in the annals of science ? Sec Strabonis lierum
Geografih. libri xvii. &c. Oxon. 1807; Rennel's Grogra-
jihy of Herodotus ; Malte Brun Precis de la Geograjihie
Vnivtrselle, loai. i. ; Flinders^,' Voyage to Terra ^ustralis.
1801, 1802, 1803: also our articles Africa, Cook, and
Pauk.

M ATHEMATIC AL GEOGRAPHY.

CHAP.- 1.

Of the Sphere.

Secit. I. Of the Figure of the Earth, and of the Sjihere in
General.

The fundamental principle of all mathematical geogra-
phy, and what of course naturally claims our first attention,
is the spiierical figure of the earth. The proof of this, how-
evei-, is neither elaborate nor abstruse, tlie various pheno-
mena from which it is inferred being so obvious and so
conclusive, as to require only to be mentioned. The first,
and perhaps the most simple of these which we shall no-
tice, is the appearance of a ship at sea, either approaching
to, or receding from, an observer on the shore. In the
former case the vessel seems to rise out of the water, and
in the latter to sink beneath it, a phenomenon that can only
be accounted for from the convexity of the eai th's surface ;
and as the same appearance is observed at all times and in
all situations, this convexity must also hold in every direc-
tion, tl'.at is, the earth must be spherical. The same con-

clusion may also be drawn from other plienomena ; as the
change which takes place iri tlie visible part of the earth's
surface, as well as of the heavens, to an observer who
changes his situation — from tlie circular form of the
earth's shadow, as observed in eclipses of the moon — and,
finally, from the actual circumnavigation of the globe. Our
readers will find these appeai-ances illustrated at greater
length under the article Astronomy, in the second
volume of our work. Without, tiicrefore, attempting
any farther proof of the fact, we shall proceed on the sup-
position that the earth is a perfect sphere. This, indeed,
is not exactly the case, the globe being flattened or com-
pressed at two opposite points, forming what matliema-
ticians call an oblate spheroid, and at the same time having
its surface diversified with numerous elevations and de-
pressions. But to the geographer, these inequalities arc
of no importance, as they are too inconsiderable to afi'cct
any of the problems that he may have occasion to solve.
The longest diameter of the earth is to the shortest nearly
as 1 to .9968, or as 301 to 300, and the highest mountain on
the earth, if represented on a sphere of six feet nine inches
diameter, would not project fro'ii its surface farther than
j\ih of an inch. In a system of geography, therefore, we

GEOGRAPHY.

607

may safely omit the consideration of such minute iircgula-
rilies, and regard the globe as really a perfect sphere.

As our chief object in the present article is to render the
principles of geography intelligible to our readers in gene-
ral, we shall endeavour, as much as possible, to exhibit a
popular view of the subject, referring the scientific reader
to those articles of our work, where the propositions that
we may assume, and the phenomena that we sliall have oc-
casion to explain, are examined and illustrated on the most
rigid principles. Agreeably to this plan, we shall here
throw into the form of definitions, some cf the properties
of the sphere in general, referring for a demonstration of
these properties to the article Trigonometry.

yl sphere is an uniformly round body, every point of
whose surface is equally distant from a point within the
body, called the centre. Hence,

If a circle is made to revolve about its diameter, which
remains fixed, its circumference will describe or trace out
the surface of a sphere. The circle thus revolving is call-
ed the ge7ierating circle.

The diameter of a sphere is a straight line passing
through the centre, and terminated both ways by the sur-
face.

The axis of a sphere is that diameter about which the
generating circle, or sphere itself, is supposed to revolve.

If an indefinitely thin plane or flat surface cut or pass
through a sphere, the part of the plane that lies within the
sphere will be a circle, whose circumference appears on
the surface, and is called a circle of the s/ihere.

The Jiole oi a circle of the sphere, is a point on the sur-
face, from which every pomtin the circle is equally distant.
Hence

Every circle of the sphere has two poles, diametrically
opposite to one another.

A great circle of tlie sphere, is that whose plane passes
through the ccnlie, and consequently divides the sphere
into two C(|ual parts or hemispheres.

A small circle of the sphere is that whose plane docs not
pass through the centre, but divides the sphere into two
unequal parts.

Every circle is supposed to be divided into 360 equal
parts, called degrees; eacli degree into 60 equal parts,
called minutes; and each minute into CO equal parts, called
seconds, i hese difi'erent subdivisions are denoted by the
signs ° ' ", thus 12° 15' 10" mean 12 degrees, 15 minutes,
and 10 seconds.

The length of an arch is expressed by the number of de-
grees, mmutes, and seconds which it contains ; thus the
fourth part of a circle, or a quadrant, is said to be equal to
90°.

The distance between two /loiius, on the surface oi a
sphere, is measured by an arch of a great circle iiitercepted
between them.

All great circles of a sphere are equal, and intersect one
another in two points dianietiically opposite.

The angle formed by the intersection of two great circles,
is measured by the arch of another groat circle, cutting the
other two at the distance of 90° from the pomt of intersec-
tion in each.

When two great circles make with one another an angle
of 90°, that is, when their planes are at right angles to one
another, they pass through each other's poles, the poles of
a great circle being 90° distant from its circumference.

Sect. II. Of the Celestial Sphere.

The heavenly bodies, as seen from the earth, appear to
he placed in the concave surface of a hollow sphere, having
the earth in its centre, and seem to describe circles every

2 1 hours of a greater or less circumference, according as
they are farther from, or nearer to a certain point, that ap-
pears fixed. Diametrically opposite to this point is an-
other, about which also the heavenly bodii^s seem to dc-
scrilje circles, thus exhiijiting the same appearance, as if
the whole celestial sphere revolved about a diameter from
cast to west. In this motion, which is called the diurnal re-
volution of the sphere, all the heavenly bodies seem to par-
ticipate, but the sun, with others of them called planets,
have also a proper motion of their own in a contrary direc-
tion, by which, in a certain time, they perform a complete
revolution of the sphere, though this is generally a very
long peiiod, compared with that of their diurnal revolution.
Thus the sun, by his proper motion from west to east, de-
scribes a circle of the Celestial sphere in 365 days, the
moon in 27, and the other planets in different periods be-
tween 87 and 30689 days. In order to illustrate these mo-
tions, as well as to determine the relative positions of the
bodies themselves, certain imaginary points and lines are
supposed to be marked or traced out on the surface of the
celestial sphere. The most important of these we now pro-
ceed to explain.

The north and south fioles of the world, are those points
in the celestial sphere that appear to be fixed. The poles
are also termed arctic and antarctic ; the arctic or north
pole being that which is visible in this as well as in every
other country of Europe.

The axis of the world is that diameter of the sphere
which cotmects the poles, and about which the whole sphere
seems to revolve.

The zenith of any place on the earth, is that point in the
celestial sphere which is directly over the place, or it is
the point in which the plumb-line at th?.t place, if produced
upwards, would meet the celestial sphere. When the sun
or any other heavenly body is in the zenith of a place, it is
said to bt vertical to that place.

The nadir is a point in the sphere diametrically opposite
to tlie zenith.

The e</uinoclial is a great circle of the sphere whose
poles coincide with the poles of the world.

The horizon is a great circle whose poles are the zenith
and nadn-.

The cardinal points of the horizon are its north, south,
east, and west points, which divide it into four quadrants,
the two first being opposite to each other, as also the two
last. The point of the horizon nearest the north pole is
called the north point.

Meridians, called also hour circles and circles of right as-
cension, are great circles perpendicular to the equinoctial,
and consequently passing Vlirough the poles of the world.

The meridian of the place, or the twelve o'clock hour cir-
cle, is the meridian that cuts the horizon in the north and
south points.

The six o'clock hour circle, is the meridian at right angles
to the meridian of the place.

An azimuth or vertical circle, is a great circle perpendicu-
lar to tlie horizon, and consequently passing through the
zenith and nadir.

The prime vertical, is a vertical circle passing through
the east and west points of the horizon, and consequently
cutting the meridian of the place at right angles.

The ecliptic is a great circle representing the sun's an-
nujl path, and cutting the equinoctial at an angle of about
23° 28'. Hence the poles of the ecliptic are about 23° 28'
distant from the corresponding poles of the world.

The signs are the twelve equal parts into which the eclip-
tic is divided, each consisting of 30°. They are written
and named as follows ;

C03

(J EOGR APIIY.

<y Arks.
8 Taurus,
n (icmiiii.
25 Canrer.
£1 Leo.
iijj Virgo.

=i: Libra.

JH, Scorpio.

/ Sagittarius.

Vj Capiiconuis.

;K;> A([uarius.

X Pisces.

TVic cardinal fioints of the ecliptic are the two equinoc-
tial and two solstitial points.

The ei/uinoclial fioiuts or equinoxes, are those points of
the ecliptic wiiere it intercepts the equinoctial, viz. the be-
ginning of Aries and the beginning of Libra, 180° distant
from each other. The sun enters Aries about the middle
of spring, and Libra about the middle of autumn ; hence
the former is called the vernal, aTld the latter the autumnal
equinox.

T/ie solstitial ftoints or solstices, are those points of the
ecliptic that are at the greatest distance from the equinoc-
tial, viz. the beginningof Cancer and the beginning of Capri-
corn, also 180° distant from each other. Tlie sun enters
the former about the middle of summer, and the latter at
the middle of winter ; hence the one is called tUe summer,
and the other the nvinter solstice.

The equinoctial colure is a meridian passing through the
equinoctial points.

The solstitial colure is a meridian passing through the
solstitial points.

Circles oj" celestial longitude are great circles perpen-
dicular to the ecliptic, and consequently passing through
its poles.

Parallels ofdeclinatioti are small circles parallel to the
equinoctial.

Every point in the celestial sphere between the equinoc-
tial and the poles appears to describe a parallel of declina-
tion in 24 hours. When part of this parallel is above, and
part below the horizon, the former is called the diurnal,
and the latter the nocturnal arch.

The trojiics of Cancer and Cajiricorn are parallels of de-
clination, passing, the one through the summer solstice 23°
28' to the north, and the other through the winter solstice
23° 28' to the south of the equinoctial. They are so call-
ed from a Greek word signifying to turn, because the sun
in his annual course appears to recede from the equinoc-
tial till he reaches the tropics, after which he returns to-
wards it.

The arctic and antarctic fiolar circles are parallels of de-
clination, 23° 28' from their corresponding poles.

Parallels of celestial latitude are small circles parallel to
the ecliptic.

The declination of a heavenly body is its distance from
the equinoctial measured on a meridian ; or it is the arch
of a meridian intercepted between the equinoctial, and a
parallel of declination passing through the body. It is called
north or south, according as it is to tlie north or south of the
equinoctial.

The declination of a bt .ly cannot exceed 90°.

The right ascension of a heavenly body is its distance
from the vernal equinox measured on the equinoctial ; or
it is the arch of the equinoctial intercepted between the ver-
nal equinox and a meridian passing through the body,
reckoning in the order of the signs.

The latitude of a heavenly body is its distance north or
south from tlie ecliptic, measured on a circle of longitude;
or it is the arch of a circle of longitude intercejjted between
the ecliptic and a parallel of latitude passing through the
body.

The longitude of a heavenly body is its distance from the
vernal equinox measured on the ecliptic ; or it is the arch

of the ecliptic intercepted between the vernal equinox, and
a circle of longitude passing through the body.

The altitude of a heavenly body is its height above the
horizon measured on a vertical circle ; or it is the arch of
a vertical circle intercepted between the horizon and the
body. The arch of the same circle between the body and
the zenith, is called its zenith distance. The altitude and
zenith distance ate together equal to 90°. The former is
greatest when the body is on the meridian of the place,
which is then called its meridian altitude, and at equal dis-
tances on either side of the meridian, the altitude is the
same.

The azimuth of a body is its distance from the meridian
of the place measured on the horizon, or it is the arch of
the horizon intercepted between the meridian of the place,
and the vertical circle passing through the body. It is call-
ed eastern ov western azinmth, according as the body is on
the east or west side of the meridian.

A body is said to rise, culminate, and set, when its centre
is in the eastern side of the horizon, the meridian of the
place, and the western side of the horizon respectively.

The eastern and nufstern amjililude of a body is the arch
of the horizon intercepted between the point where the bo-
dy rises or sets, and the east or west point of the horizon.

The zodiac is a zone or circular space of the celestial
sphere, extending about 9° on each side of the ecliptic.

The preceding definitions will be rendered more intelli-
gible, perhaps, by referring to Plate CCLXV. Fig. I. where
HZRN represents the celestial sphere, and /izrn the earth,
situated in its centre. Then if Z be the zenith of a place
2, P and S the north and south poles of the world, and C
the vernal equinox, HR will be the horizon, jEQ the equi-
noctial, EL the cclii)tic, and P' its pole, PS the equinoctial
colure, HZRN the solstitial colure, TL the tropic of Can-
cer, and ED the tropic of Capricorn. Also, since the circle
HZRN passes through Z, P and P', the poles of the hori-
zon, equinoctial and ecliptic, it represents a vertical circle,
a meridian, and a circle of celestial longitude. If there-
fore, A be a given star, the arch R A will be its altitude, and
ZA its zenith distance to an observer at :, or rather at the
centre of the earth, QA will be its declination, LA its lati-
tude, CQ its right ascension, and CL its longitude. In this
case, its azimuth is nothing, the star being on the meridian
of the place. It is hardly necessary to observe, that though
CL and CQ, as repi'escnted in the Figure, appear to be
straight lines, they are nevertheless arches of great circles,
the point C being the pole of the hemisphere HZRN. The
same is true of all the other straigiit lines passing through
the point C.

Having thus explained some of the principal points and
lines, which geographers have imagined to be traced out
on the celestial sphere, we shall briefly mention the difl'er-
ent classes and characters of the heavenly bodies them-
selves. These are all comprehended under three heads,
Fixed Stars, Planets, s.n<.\ Comets.

The fixed stars are those heavenly bodies, that have al-
ways the same situation relatively to one another, having
no other motion than what they derive from the apparent
diurnal revolution of the celestial spiiere from east to west.
In order to distinguish them more easily from one another,
they are divided into classes, according to their brilliancy and
apparent magnitude, the brightest and largest being de-
nominated stars of the first magnitude, thenext largest of the
second magnitude, and so on to the sixth. Stars less than
those of the sixth magnitude, are not in general visible by
the naked eye, and are culled telesco/iie stars. Besides this
classification, the fixed stars are also divided into gi-oups
called Constfllations, each being named after some animal,
or other object, to which the sl.ii;, in their arrangement,

GEOGRAPHY.

609

bear a fancied resemblance. 'J'hcrc arc twelve such con-
stellations in the zodiac, and it is Ironi them that the sii^iis
of the ecliptic taUe their names. Tlie stars in each constel-
lation ai'c distingnislied by the letters of the (ircek alpiui-
bet, the first letter denolint; the largest star of the constel-
lation, whatever may he its magnitude. Stars not included
in any of the constellations, are called Unformed ^tara.

The filanctsi as we have already observed, are bodies
\vhich, l)csides their diurnal revolution, have also a motion
of their own in a direction contrary to the other. They arc
eleven in number, and are found to revolve about the sun
as a centre, in different periods, and at dilTerent distances.
These eleven are denominated Primary Planets, to distin-
guish them from the Secondary or Satellites, with which
some of them are accompanied, and to which they serve as
centresof revolution. The path which a planet describes
about its centre is called its Orbit. The primary planets
aje written and expressed as follows :

Juno.

Vesta.

?? 9 O S

Mercury. Venus. Earth. Mars.

Ceres. Pallas. Jupiter. Saturn. Georgium Sidus, Herschel, or Uranus.

For the distances of the planets from the sun, the pe-
riods of their revolutions, magnitudes, kc. see Astuono-
MY Index.

Comets are luminous bodies, which appear in the heavens
only occasionally, and foi a limited period, generally consist-
ing of a nucleus surrounded by a luminous vapour, some-
times shooting out into a long train or fail. Comets, be-
sides the diurnal revolution common to all the heavenly
bodies, have also a motion peculiar to themselves. In some,
this motion is in the same direction with that of the planets,
and in others it is in the contrary direction. See Astro-

NO.MY and Co.METS.

Sect. III. Of the Earth, or Terrestrial Sphere.

If all the inequalities of the earth's surface were remov-
ed, it would appear to its inhabitants to be a circular plane,
fixed in the centre of the celestial sphere. There are two
deceptions, however, in this appearance. The earth is not
a plane, neither is it at rest. Its true figure, as wo have
already shown, is spherical, and it is continually in motion,
revolving both daily on its ov/n axis, and annually in an or-
bit round the sun. It must be obvious, on a momeni's re-
flection, that the apparent diurnal motion of the heavenly
bodies may be produced, either by the revolution of the
celestial sphere from east to west, or by the rotation of the
earth on its axis from west to east. Of the two explanations
of the phenomenon, therefore, we are bound to adopt that
which is liable to fewest objections, and this will be found
to be the rotation of the earth. The revolution of the hea-
vens, indeed, presents difficulties both physical and me-
chanical, which it is impossible to remove, while the other
hypothesis is perfectly simple in itself, and in unison with
tlie other phenomena of the universe. The same observa-
tions will apply, with perhaps still more force, to the an-
nual revolution of the earth round the sun, which is the
true cause of the sun's apparent motion in the heavens from
west to east. The earth, therefore, is to be ranked among
the planets, revolving about the sun in a year from v/est to
east, having the ecliptic for its orbit, and accompanied by
the rnoon as a satellite or secondan' planet. Hut though
we have thus noticed the real motions of the earth, as the
causes of the apparent revolution of the sun and the celestial
sphere, we shall not, in the remaining jjart of the present
article, always confine ourselves to this view of the subject.

Vol. IX. I'.MiT II.

In the solution of geographical problems, it is often much
simpler to consider the apparent revolution of the celestial
sphere, and the motion of the sun in the ecliptic, as real,
than as produced by the combined motions of the earth,
while the solution is the same in both cases. We shall
not hesitate, therefore, to assume the first of these, when-
ever by doing so we can render the subject more intelligi-
ble or concise.

It is obvious from Plate CCLXV. Fig. 1. that the planes
of all great circles of the celestial sphere form, by their
intersections with the surface of the earth, corresponding
great circles on the latter. Thus/i r,zn,fi s, e <j, kc. on
the earth, correspond to HR, ZN, PS, jEQ, &c. in the hea-
vens. This transference of the circles from one sphere to
the other, may be still more clearly understood, by con-
ceiving the celestial sphere uniformly contracted in its di-
mensions, without any change in the relative position of its
parts, till it be just suflicient to cover the terrestrial sphere.
By tliis method, the small as well as the great circles of
tfie heavens may be transferred to the same positions on
the earth ; thus TL would coincide with 1 1, and ED with
ed.

The points/; and s on the earth, immediately under the
poles of the world, are called the north and south poles of
tlie earth ; (£q the equator or equinoctial ; h r or IIR the
rational horizon, to distinguish it from H'R', the limit of an
observer's vision at z, and which is called the sensible hori-
zon ; fisaiidhzr?i meridians, or circles of longitude ; and
t l,ec,/:arallels of latitude. In general, all parallels of de-
clination on the celestial sphere become parallels of lati-
tude on the earth, retaining however their proper or indi-
vidual names. Thus the tropic of Cancer in the celestial
sphere, is a parallel of the declination 23° 28' to the north
of the equinoctial, and on the eartli it is a parallel of lati-
tude at tlie same distance from the equator.

Besides the terms already defined in the account of the
celestial sphere, there are others peculiar to the earth,
which require to be explained.

The first meridian of any country, in modern systems of
geography, is the meridian passing through the capital of
that country, from which the position of other meridians is
determined. The ancients chose for their first meridian
that of the Foi'tunate Isles, which they conceived to be the
limit of the habitable world. In later times, the merid.'an
passing through Ferro, one of the Canary Islands, and nc:ar-
ly the same with that of the ancients, was used as the first
meridian by geographers of many countries ; but now eve-
ry nation generally reckons from the meiidian of its own
metropolis.

The longitude of any place on the earth is i:s distance
from the first meridian, measured on the equator; or it is
the arch of the equator intercepted between the first me-
ridian and the meridian of the place. It is called cas? or
loeat longitude, according as the place lies to the east or
west of the first meridian. Longitude on the earth cor-
responds, not to longitude, but to rigln ascension, on the
celestial sphere. As the longitude o/ places on the earth
is reckoned in two directions, it never can exceed 180°,
whereas the right ascension ofa heavenly body may be any
thing between 0 and 360°, being always reckoned in one
direction only, viz. in the order of the signs.

T/ie difference of longitude between two places, is the dis-
tance between them measured on the equator; or it is the
arch of the ecjuator intercepted between the meridians of
the places. When the places are on different sides of the
first meridian, the sum of their longitudes gives their dif-
ference of longitude.

As the sun in his apparent diurnal revolution round the
earth moves over 350° in 24 hours, or 15° in one hour, he
4 H

610

GEOGRAPHY.

is on the meridian ol any given place, or it is noon at
lliat place one hour sooner tliut at any other place 15" far-
ther west. Hence longitude, and dilVerence of longitude,
may be expressed in time, allowing 15° to one hour, or 1°
to four minutes. As the degree and hour are similarly
subdivided, any number of degrees, minutes, and seconds,
divided by 15, will give the corresponding number of hours,
minutes, and seconds ; and, on the contrary, hours, minutes,
and seconds of time multiplied by 15, give the correspond-
ing number of degrees, minutes, and seconds.

Tlie latitude of a place on the earth is its distance from
the equator measured on a meridian, or it is the arch of a
meridian intercepted between the equator, and a parallel
of latitude passing through the place. It is called north
or south latitude, according as the place lies to the north
or south of the equator. The distance of the place from
the nearest pole measured on the meridian is called the
co-latitude of the place, or the complement of the latitude.
Latitude on the earth corresponds to declination on the
celestial sphere.

The difference of latitude between two places is the dis-
tance between them nieasured on a meridian ; or it is the
arch of a meridian intercepted between the parallels of
latitude passing through the places. If they lie on oppo-
site sides of the equator, the jum of their latitudes gives
their difference of latitude.

A zone is any portion of the earth's surface included be-
tween two parallels of latitude. There are, however,
usually reckoned five zones; the Torrid, the two Tempe-
rate, and tlie two Frigid. v.

The torrid zone is the space included between the two
tropics: the temperate zones extend from the tropics to
the polar circles ; and the frigid from the polar circles to
the poles. To explain this division of the globe mathema-
tically, we may observe, that whatever be the position of
the sun, he always illuminates one half of the terrestrial
sphere at once, and tliat the great circle which separates
the light from the dark hemisphere, and which is called the
circle of illumination, has for its pole that point on the sur-
face of the earth to which the sun is vertical. Now, as
the sun ap|iears to be always in some point or other of the
ecliptic, moving over EL, (Plate CCLX\'. Fig. 1.), between
the middle of wiiiter and the middle of summer, and fron»
Lto Eon the opposite side of the sphere, in the next half
year, the phenomenon is precisely the same as il he vibrat-
ed along the arch DL, viz. from D to L during the first of
these periods, and from L to D during the next ; the earth,
in the mean time, revolving daily on its axis. When the
sun is at Q, he is vertical to y ; that is, the circle of illu-
mination corresponds with a meridian /i s ; and every point
of the earth's surface is successively 12 hours above and
12 hours beluw that circle. When the sun advances 1°
towards L, he becomes vertical to a point 1° to the north
of (7, or the circh of illumination falls 1° below fi towards
//, and rises 1° above s towards r ; that is, while the sun's
declination is 1° nerth, the circular space about the north
pole to the distance of 1° from it, never sinks below the cir-
cle of illumination, a-.id a similar space around the south
pole never rises above it. As the sun approaches L, a
greater space about P continues to be permanently within
the circle of illumination, and a corresponding space about
s to be permanently without il. When the sun reaches L,
or is vertical to I, the circle of illumination falls 23° 28'
below P, and rises as far above s, and may be represented
^y f^' ffi that is, on the day of the summer solstice, the
whole of the north frigid zone is witiiin the circle of illumi-
nation, and the whole of the south frigid zone is without it
for 24 hours. From this period the sun again returns towards
the south, when the circle of illuminalipn also begins to

move backwards, till at the autumnal equinox, three
months after the summer solstice, it again occupies the
position /i «, so that for six months the north pole is above,
and the soutli pole is below the circle of illumination.
The sun still continuing his motion southward, readies D
by the middle of winter, when tlie circle of illumination oc-
cupies the position b f, and the circumstances of the fri-
gid zones arc just reversed. Hence, to every place within
the torrid zone, the sun is vertical twice a year, which it
never is to any other part of the earth. In the temperate
zones, no place is either above or below the circle of
illumination for 24 hours together. And in the frigid zones,
a place may be in the dark or light hemisphere for any pe-
riod, between 24 hours and six months. The zones might
also be distinguished from each other physically, by the
difference in the intensity of the sun's rays, as indicated
in the difference of mean temperature in different latitudes.
But for the investigation of this sul)ject, we refer to Put?
sie.\L Gcograjtluj.

A climate is also a portion of the earth's surface, in-
cluded between two parallels of latitude, and of such a
breadth, that the longest day under the parallel nearest the
pole, is half an hour longer than under the other. There
are twenty-four such climates between the equator and
cither of the polar circles. Between the polar circle and
the pole, there are six climates of such a breadth that the
longest day under the two parallels varies by a month.
There are thus thirty climates in all on each side of the
equator.

The principle that has already been employed, in ex-
plaining the division of llie earth into zones, may serve
also to illustrate the nature of climates. When the sun i.s
vertical to Q, (Plate CCLXV^. Fig. 2 ,) the circle of illu-
mination coinciding with the meridian NS, divides the
equator jEQ, and every parallel of latitude, into two equal
parts, or the day and night are equal all over the globe.
When the sun passes to either side of Q, as northward to-
wards L, the equator is still divided into two equal parts
by the circle of illumination, as it must always be by a great
circle ; but the parallels of latitude are divided unequally,
the greater arch of the northern parallels being above, and
of the southern below, the circle of illumination; that is,
the day and night are still equal at the equator, but in
northern latitudes the day is longer than the night, and in
southern the night is longer than tlie day. This inequality
continues to increase in all latitudes, as the sun approaches
L ; and of two given ])aralk-ls, as c rf, e I, at any time, the
inequality is greatest at that which is nearest the pole.
When the sun reaches L, or at the summer solstice, the
day is longest in all northern, and shortest in all southern
latitudes. At the polar circle it is 24 hours, the whole of
the parallel a b being above the circle of illumination. At
the parallel c d, the day is to the night as twice ji d to twice
fi c, or as fid i.0 p c i at e L it is as y L to g e, kc. ; and at
the equator they are equal. It is obvious, therefore, that
between the equator and the polar circle, the length of the
longest day varies from 12 to 24 hours, and that conse-
quently 24 parallels may be found i-,t such distances from
each other, that the longest day under the one, shall exceed
that under the other, by hah an hour. With regard to
places within the polar circle, it is evident that the parallel
which comes to be wholly above the circle of illumination,
half a month before the sun reaches tiie summer solstice
L, or two months and a half after he passes Q, will conti-
nue to be a month above the circle, viz. half a month be-
fore the sun reaches L, and half a month till he returns to
ihe same position. In like manner, the parallel tnat begins
to be wholly illuminated one month before the sun reaches
the solstice, or two months after the vertial equinox, will

GEOGRAPHY.

Cll

continue to be so for two inontlis, and so of others. As
the pole rises above Uie circle of illumination at the equi-
nox, or tlii'ce months before the solstice, u continues, as
was formerly observed, to be illuminated for six months.
Hence, between the polar circles and the poles, six paral-
lels may be found such, that the longest day under the one,
shall be a month longer than under the other. The same
reasoning will apply to the southern hemisphere duiing
the sun's progress from Q to /;; and, in general, it is to
be observed, that at any time the length of the day, at a
given latitude in one hemisphere, is always equal to the
night, at the same latitude in the opposite hemisphere.
The climates, as above defined, are contained in the follow-
ing Table, where the first column shews the number of
the climate, the second the length of the day under the
highest parallel, or that nearest the pole, the third the la-
titude of that parallel, and the fourth the breadth of the
climate.

Table of Cllmales.

Between

the

Longest Day

Latitude

Hreadth

Equator

under the

of the

and

highest Parallel.

Climate.

Polar Circle.

Hours. Min.

Deg. Min.

Ueg. Min.

12 30

8 34

13 0

16 43

8 9

13 30

24 10

7 27

14 0

30 46

6 36

14 30

35 28

5 42

15 0

41 21

4 53

15 30

45 29

4 B

16 0

48 59

3 30

!6 30

51 57

2 58

17 0

54 28

2 31

17 30

56 36

2 8

18 0

58 25

1 49

18 30

59 57

1 32

19 0

61 16

1 19

19 30

62 24

1 8

20 0

63 20

0 56

20 30

64 8

0 48

21 0

64 48

0 40

21 30

65 20

0 32

22 0

65 46

0 25

22 30

66 6

0 20

23 0

66 20

0 14

23 30

66 28

0 8

24 0

66 32

0 4

Between

•

the

Polar Circle

and the

Pole.

Longest Day

under the

highest Parallel.

Latitude

of the

highest Parallel.

Breadth

of the

Climate.

Alonths.

Deg. Mi'n.
67 23

Deg. Min.
0 51

69 50

2 27

73 39

3 49

78 31

4 52

84 5

5 34

90 0

5 55

Besides dividing the earth into different climates, the
ancients also employed certain terms to distinguish the in-
habitants of particular countries, which it may be useful
to notice. Those who live under the same meridian and
parallel of latitude, but on opposite sides of the equator,

wete called relatively to one another Jntcec'd, from «vt, ,
oji/iositc to ; and oiy.rx, a liiibiiation. They have always the
same hour of the day, but opposite seasons of the year.
Those who live on the same side of the tciiiator, and under
tlie same parallel of latitude, but difi'er 180° in longitude,
were culled Pcrixcii, from ^rtji, ahoiit, and tiiy.ic., a habita-
tirjH. They have always the same seasons, but opposite
hours of the day. Tlie inhabitants of places under the
same parallel of latitude, Init on opposite sides of the
equator, and dill'ering in longitude 180°, were called the
Aniilwdes of each other, from cttTt, oftfiosite to, and xx;,
the foot. They have always opposite hours of the day, as
well as contrary seasons of the year. The inhabitants of
the difPerent zones were also disthiguishcd according to
tlie projection of their shadows. Thus the inhabitants of
the torrid zone were called Amfihiscii, from a.y.fi j around,
and e-y.iii, a shadow ; because their shadow is projected
sometimes towards the north, and at other times towards
the south; or Ascii, from a, -without, and fkiu, because
they sometimes have no shaclow. The inhabitants of the
temperate zones were called Hcteroncii, from srtfo?, differ-
ent, and o-k(« ; because their sliaclows are always projected
in opposite directions, or towards the poles. And the in-
habitants of the frigid zones were named Periscii, from
TTsfi, about, and o-y.ia ; because, during their longest day,
their shadows describe a circle round them.

As the celestial sphere, in its apparent revolution, may
present itself under three different aspects, according to
the situation of the observer, it becomes necessary to dis-
tinguish them by particular names. Accordingly, to an
observer at the equator, the celestial sphere is said to be
right, because the equinoctial and parallels of declination,
or circles described by the heavenly bodies, are at right
angles to the horizon, and divided by it into two equal parts.
To an observer between the equator and the pole, the
sphere is oblique, because the equinoctial and parallels of
declination are inclined to the horizon, so that all hea-
venly bodies not in the equator, are above and below the
horizon during unequal periods. And from the pole the
sphere appears /;c?n//t/, the equinoctial coinciding with the
horizon, and the heavenly bodies revolving in circles pa-
rallel to it.

In the view that we have hitherto taken of the earth, we
have considered it merely as a spherical body, v/ithoiit any
regard to its actual magnitude and dimensions. All the
phenomena, indeed, which we have yet noticed, depend en-
tirely on the figure and situation of the earth ; and there-
fore, in the explanation of these phenomena, it is not ne-
cessary to take the volume of the globe into the account.
In practical geography, however, it is frequently an impor-
tant question to express the distance between different
points on the surface of the earth, in terms of some known
measure, as miles, yards, feet, &c. ; and as these distances
cannot always be subjected to actual measurement, it be-
comes necessary to determine the dimensions of the globe
itself. Various attempts have accordingly been made by
astronomers to solve tliis problem, though it is only from
the perfection of modern instruments, that they have been
able to "ccomplish it with any degree of accuracy.

If the earth were perfectly spherical, it is obvious that,
to determine its circumference, nothing more would be
necessary, than to find the length of a degree of the terres-
trial meridian, that is, the distance between two places ly-
ing under the same meridian, but differing 1° in latitude,
and multiply that distance by 360. It was upon this prin-
ciple that Eratosthenes, computing the difference of lati-
tude between Alexandria and Syene to be 7° 8' 45", and es-
timating the distance between them at 5000 stadia, deter-
inin,ed the circumference of the earth to be about 252,000

4H 2

G12

GEOGRAPHY.

sladia. This esUmale is valuaWc, nr, beinp; ilie result of"
tlic first attempt to ascertain tlie cliniciisioiis of the globe
on correct psinciples. In point of accuracy, liowcvcr, as
iiiiglit be expected, it is very cltficient. Independent of the
inicertainty with regard to the length of the stadium which
]iratosthenes employed, he conniiittcd a considerable error
in supposing Alexandria and Sycnc to be under the same
meridian, and his calculation was also afl'ected by an irre-
gularity, of which he was not perhaps aware. It has been
found, from actual measurement, that the degrees of a me-
ridian on the earth increase in length from the ccpiator to-
wards the poles ; that is, if two points be taken in a terres-
trial meridian, at such a distance from each other that per-
pendiculars at these ))uints, or lines in the direciion of gra-
vity, when produced to the heavens, include between them
1° of a celestial meiidian; and if other two poinls be- taken
on the same meridian, but neai'er the pole, such that per-
pendiculars from them also include between them 1° of the
celestial meridian, then it is found, that the distance be-
tween the two first points, measured on the surface of the
earth, is less than the distance between the two last. This
difference, indeed, is the necessary consequence of the
spheroidal figure of the earth, which we formerly men-
tioned ; and though, in geographical problems in general,
the irregularity may be safely neglected, yet it is of impor-
tance to take it into account, in determining the dimensions
of the earth. At the etjuator, a degree of latitude has been
found to measure 60480.247 fathoms ; at the parallel of 45°,
60759.473 ; and in latitude 66° 20' 10", 60952.374. Taking
the second of these as nearly a mean for all latitudes, and
multiplying by 360, we have for the whole circumference
of the meridian 21873410.28 fathoms, or 24856.148 Eng-
lish miles. The circumference of the equator is found to
be 24896.16 miles, or 40 miles greater than that of the me-
ridian.

As all the meridians on the globe intersect one another
in the poles, the distance between any two of them dimi-
nishes as the latittidc increases. In many cases, it is of
importance to know the law of this diminution, that is, to
determine the length of a degree of longitude on any paral-
lel of latitude, the degree on the equator being given. In
order to solve this problem with the greatest possible ac-
curacy, it is necessary to make allowances for the spheroi-
dal figure of the earth, or the difference in the length of de-
grees of latitude at different distances from the equator.
But as there are irregularities in these differences, that
have led to doubt whether the earth be a regular spheroid,
and as for ordinary purposes it is not necessary to aim at a
degree of accuracy, which is after all perhaps a mere waste
of calculation, we shall suppose the earth to be a sphere,
and on this principle exhibit in a Table the diminution of
the degrees of longitude for every degree of latitude. In
such tables, it is usual to express the degree of the equa-
tor in terms of English miles ; but as the length of this de-
gree is estimated differently by different writers, we shall,
ill the following Table, assume it equal to unity, and exhi-
bit the corresponding arches of the parallels in decimal
fractions.

Tabk of the Diminution of a Degree of Longitude for eve-
ry Degree of Latitude, that of the Et/uator being reckoned
Unity.

tjatUude

Dc(f rec of
Longitude.

Luthude

Uej^ree of
Longitude.

Lulitudt-

Degree of

Longitude.

.99985

.85717

.48481

.99939

.84805

.46947

.99863

.83867

.45399

.99756

.82904

.43837

.996 19

.81915

.42262

6 .

.99452

.80902

.40674

.99255

.79864

.39073

.99027

.78801

.37461

.98769

.77715

.35837

.98481

.76604

.34202

.98163

.75471

.32557

.97815

.74314

.30902

.97436

.73135

.29237

.97030

.71934

.27564

.96593

.70711

.25882

.96126

.69466

.24192

.95630

■47

.68200

.22495

.95106

.66913

.2079 1

.94552

.65606

.19081

.9,3970

.64279

.17365

.93358

.62932

.15643

.92718

.61566

.13917

.92050

.60181

.12187

.91355

.58779

.10453

.90631

.57358

.08716

.89879

.55919

.06976

.89101

.54464

.05234

.88295

.52992

.03490

.87462

.51504

.01745

.86603

.50000

.00000

Since the circumferences of circles are to one another as
their radii, if the radius of the equator be taken to express
a degree of the equator, a degree of any parallel will be ex-
pressed by the radius of that parallel. But the radius e D
(Fig. 2.) of any parallel e L, is the sine of e N the colati-
tude, or the cosine of M e, the latitude of that parallel to
the radius MC. Hence, to construct the above Table, we
have only to take the natural cosines of the different paral-
lels to radius 1 , or the natural numbers corresponding to the
logarithmic cosines, removing the decimal point ten places
towards the left hand in each. Thus, let it be required
to find a degree of longitude on the parallel of 25°. The
natural cosine of 2 5° is 90,631 to radius 100,0^0, and making
radius I, the cosine becomes .90631, the length of the de-
gree required. Thus also the logarithmic cosine of 25° ^:
9.957276, and the number corresponding to this logarithm
is 9,063,100,000, which is the length of the degree re-
quired, that of the equator being 10,000,000,000, or radius
of the trigonometrical table. But as it would be inconve-
nient to operate with these numbers, they may both be di-

GEOGRAPHY.

613

vlJcil by 10,000,000,000, or the decimal point may be re-
moved ten places tu the left hiiul in each, which will i^ive
1 for the deij;rce of tlie equator, and .90631, as in the pre-
ceding Table, for that of the parallel of 2 j°. This num-
ber may also be found at once from the logarithmic Tables,
by subtracting 10 from the cosine, and finding the natural
number corresponding to the remaining logarithm. Thus
the cosine of 25° becomes 1.957276, and the number cor-
responding in the Table of logarithms is .90631.

The application of the above Talile for finding the length
of a degree of longitude under any parallel, consists in sim-
ply multiplying the fraction opposite to the given latitude,
by the length of a degree of the equatoi-. Thus, to find the
length of a degree on the parallel of 25°, that of the equa-
tor being 60 geographic miles, multiply 90,631 by 60, and
the product 54.3786, or 54.38 nearly, gives the degree re-
quired in geographic miles. If the earth be considered as
spherical, a degree of the equator may be assumed equal
to the degree of the meridian bisected by the parallel of
45°, or 60759.473 fathoms, which gives for the geographi-
cal mile 6075.947 feet.

Before concluding this account of the dimensions of the
globe, it may perhaps be of use to some of our readers, to
point out a simple and expeditious method of finding the
superficial contents of any given zone of the earth. By geo-
metry, the superficies of a sphere is equal to the product
of the circumference, multiplied by the diameter, and that
of a zone to the product of the circumference multiplied by
that part of the diameter, intercepted between the planes
of the two parallels containing the zone ; that is, the area of
the zone is to the area of the whole sphere, as the perpendi-
cular distance of the two parallels of the zone is to the dia-
meter. But the distance BD (Fig. 2.) between any two pa-
rallelsy^-, e L, is the difference of the sines of M e and
JE,/, the latitudes of c andy"; therefore the area of the zone
J'e L g : area of the globe : : sin. JE. e — sin. JEJ' : diameter : :

sin. Jie — sin.iE/" ,. ,. , ^ , ,. . ,
—: radms. If, therefore, the l-adius ot the

sphere be taken to express the whole area ; half the differ-
ence of the natural sines, or of the natural numbers corre-
sponding to the logarithmic sines of any two latitudes, will
express the area of the zone included between these lati-
tudes, the radius of the sphere being equal to the radius of
the respective Tables. If the radius be reduced to unity,
the area of the zone will be a decimal fraction. In the com-
mon logarithmic Tables, tliis is done by removing the deci-
mal point ten places towards the left hand, or the fraction
may be found at once, thus : From the trigonometrical ta-
bles, take the sines of the latitudes, subtract ten from the
index of each, and find the numbers corresponding to the
remaining logarithms ; half the difierence of these numbers
will express the area of the zone, that of the sphere itself
being unity.

Example. It is required to find the area of the zone con-
tained between the parallels of 56° and 57°, that of the globe
being 1.

Firsts by a Table of natural sines.

sin. 57° :r83867
sin. 55. 11:82904

Si'concllij^ by a table of logarithmic sines.

sin. 57° (subtracting 10 fi'om index) — T.923591

sin. :6 ZZ K9I8574

The natural numbers corresponding to these logarithms
are,

.83867
.82904

963

and -— ~481.5 is the :,rca required, the radius of the Ta-
ble being 100,000, and removing the decimal point five
places towards the left, the radius becomes 1, and the area
of the zone .004815.

and

.009 63

Difference .00963
: .004815 is the area required.

Upon this principle, the following Table is constructed,
exhibiting the area ot every zone of 1° from the equator to
the pole, that of the globe being unity.

l-,lltitlKlc.

Area.

LatiUide.

Area.

LuUtude.

Area.

0°

to 1°

.008725

30° to 31°

.007520

60°

to 61°

.004295

-^ 2

.008725

31 —32

.007440'6l

—62

.004165

— 3

.008720

32 —33

.007360 62

—63

004030

— 4

.008710

33 —34

.00727563

—64

.003890

— 5

.008700

34 —35

.00719564

—65

.003760

— 6

.008685

35 —36

.007105 65

—66

.003620

— 7

.008670

36 —37

.007010 66

—67

.003475

— 8

.008550

37 —38

.006925 67

—68

003340

— 9

.008630

38 —39

.00683o|68

—69

.003200

— 10

.008610

39 — 40

.00673569

—70

,003055

— 11

.008580

40 —41

.006535;70

—71

.002915

— 12

.008550

41 —42

.00653571

—72

.002770

— 13

.008320

42 —43

.006435 72

—73

.002620

— 14

.008485

43 — 44

.005330 73

—74

.002480

— 15

.008450

44 — 45

.006225 74

—75

.002335

— 16

.008410

45 —46

.006115 75

—76

.002185

— 17

.008365

46 — 47

.006005176

—77

.002035

— 18

.008325

47 —48

.005895 77

-78

.001890

— 19

.008275

48 — 49

.00578578

—79

.001740

—20

.008225

49 —50

.00566579

—80

001590

— 21

.008175

50 -51

■00555580

—8!

.001440

—22

.008120

5 I —52

.005430*81

—82

.001290

—23

.00806 5

52 —53

.005315'82

—83

.001140

—24

.008005

53 —54

.005190,83

—84

000985

—25

.0079 40

54 —55

.005065

—85

.000835

—25

.007875

55 —56

.004945

—86

.000685

—27

.007810

56 —57

.004815

—87

.000535

-28

.007740

57 —58

.004690

—88

.000380

—29

-007670 58 — 59

.004560

—89

.000230

—30

.OO7595I59 — 60

.004430

—90

.000075

To find from the preceding Table the area of a zone, less
than 1° in breadth, take a proportional part of the zone of
1° of which the other forms a part. Thus to find the area
of a zone between 43° and 43° 35', take from the Table the
area of tlie zone between 43° and 44°, which is .00633, and

say 60' : 35' : : .00633; area required nearly—— X 00633

ZI. 0036925. The true area, as found fronvthe Table of
sines, is .003705.

To find the area of a segment of a zone lerminated at
both extremities by meridians ; multiply the area of the
whole zone, by the length of the segment, and divide by
360. Thus, to find the area of a segnient of the zone be-
tween 43° and 43" 35', terminated by two meridians 6° 20'
distant from one another, multiply .0036925 by 6° 20', and

6° 20'

divide by 360, that is the area of the segment.=-

360°

380
2 1 600

■X.0036925=.000065,

614

GEOGRAPHY.

To fiiKl the aveaof iuiy pcirticular country or district, di-
vide the country into segments ol' zones, by purallels of la-
titude, and find the area of each segment separately ; the
sum of these areas will be the area required.

In some cases, this operation may be considerably ab-
breviated without aifecting, in any great degree, the accu-
racy of the result. Let it be required, for example, to find
the area of Portugal. Instead of dividing the v.'holc sur-
face into segments of zones of different lengths, according
to the difference in the extent of the country from west to
east, we may suppose the whole to consist of one segment,
ofa uniform length and breadth, viz. between 3"° and 42"
north latitude, aiul between 7° and 9° west longitude. By
this arrangement, indeed, the eastern boundary cuts off a
part of Tralos Monies and Beira, and the western a part
of Estremadura; but, in lieu of these, the former includes
a portion of Andalusia in Spain, and the latter a part of the
Atlantic ocean. Supposing, therefore, these exchanges to
be nearly equivalent, the area may be found thus : —

Take the sum of the areas of tlie zones between 37° and
42°, which is .03366, multiply by 2 the length of the seg-
ment, and divide by 360, that is,

2 .03366 „„„,„,

^^'=^=-36^>^-"''''=-fi^=°°°'''-
Taking the circumference of the globe at24856.148 Eng-
lish miles, the radius is 7911.9 64, or, making the circum-
ference 21600 geographical miles, the radius becomes
6875.499. By the former the area of the globe is 196660948
English square miles, and by the latter 148510778.4 geo-
graphical square miles. The area of a zone is found by
multiplying these numbers by the fractional value of the
zone. Thus the zone included between the parallels of
56° and 57" is equal to 196660948 X.004815 =946922.46
Englishsquare miles,or 148510778 4X. 004815=715079.39
geographical square miles. Thus also the area of Portu-
gal is equal to 196660948 X .000187= 36775.6 English
square miles, or 148510778.4X.000187=27771.5 geogra-
phical square miles.

There is another problem connected with the figure and
dimensions of the earth, which, though properly belonging
to trigonometry, may, from its application to the present
subject, and the facility with which it can be solved, be
properly introduced here, viz. to find the most distant
point of the globe visible to the eye at any elevation ; or to
determine the extent of the visible horizon from any given
point.

Let ABG, Plate CCLXV. (Fig. 3.) represent the circum-
ference of the globe, and GB a diameter produced to E, a
given elevation above B, it is required to find the most dis-
tant point visible to the eye at E, supposing the eminence
BE to be in a level country, or on the sea coast.

Through E draw EF a tangent to ABG in D, then D is
the limit of the horizon as seen from E ; the arch BD is
tlie measure of the distance required in degrees, minutes,
or seconds, and DE the tangent of that arch to the radius
CB or CD. But in very small arches, as BD must always
be, even though E were the summit of the highest moun-
tain on the globe, the tangent hardly differs from the arch
itself; theretore ED may, without any sensible error, be
considered as the distance required. Now ED-=GE.BE
(see GEoMETRv)=«(since BE is very small compared to
GB) GB.BE nearly, and thereforeED=.yGB.BE. Hence,
if d represent the diameter of the globe in English miles,

f
f the given height of the eye in feet, that i-

the globe be assumed == 7912 English miles, the formula
becomes

(/' = J

5280

the

7912
.280

height in miles, and d' the distance required in miles, we

X/. If the diameter of

have d'

= J'^^^ = '^7^.

5280

X/=V'1.49,84:X/= 1.224126 X-//. In

every case, therefore, the square root of the height in feet
multiplied by 1 224125 will give the radius of the visible
horizon in English miles, sujjposing the ray of light to come
from the verge of the hoi izun to the eye in a straight line,
viz. in the direction of the tangent DE. This, however, is
not exactly the case, the ray, Ijy the refractive power of
the atmosphere, being bent downwards, so as to meet BE
at a point below E ; that is, the point D is visible to the eye
at an elevation less than BE. From E, therefore, the hori-
zon extends to a greater distance than D, and consi,quent-
ly the value o(d', as found by the preceding formula, is too
little by a quantity corresponding to the refraction, and
which is found to vary from A to ^- of the whole distance,
according to the state of the atmosphere with regard to
weight and humidity. In a medium state, the refiaction is
about -'j or .0714, which may therefore be considered as a
near approximation to the truth in all ordinary cases. With
this correction the preceding formula becomes d' =
1.224l25xl.0714Xv'/='.31 15^//; and reduced to the
form ofa rule, it may be stated llms : Multijily the square
root of the heiglu of the eye, in feet, by 1.3115, and the
quotient luill be the radius of the -visible horizon in linglish
tniles.

Exainfde 1. Required the distance or radius of the visi-
ble horizon to the eye, situated six feet above the surface
of the sea.

Hereri'=1.3115 ^/ 6 = 1.3115x2.449 = 3.2118 English
miles, the distance required.

Examfile 2. At what distance may a mountain 21440
feet in height be seen, the eye being on the surface of the
sea.

In this case d' = 1.31 15 >/ 21440 = 1.31 15 x 146.42
= 192 English miles. Hence the summit of Chimbo-
razo, the highest of the Andes, ought to be seen at a dis-
tance of 192 miles, if its height be, as it is stated, 21,440
feet.

CHAP. II.

Of the Globes.

Sect. I. Construction of the Globes.

As soon as geographers had discovered the spherical
figure and diurnal revolution of the earth, they would na-
turally be led to a very simple method of representing its
motion and various positions, by means of an artificial
sphere. We find, accordingly, that from a very earh pe-
riod, the globe, with certain modifications, has been made
use of for this purpose, and notwithstanding all the disco-
veries and improvements in the astronomical apparatus of
modern times, it still continues to afford the simplest, and
at the same time a correct illustration, of the principles of
mathematical geography. We have already seen in what
way, and to what extent, the earth differs in figure frorn a
true sphere, and how imperceptibly small the irregularities
.of its surface become, when represented on a sphere six or
seven feet in diameter. If the sphere be reduced to one-
third of this, which is more nearly the size of ordinary
globes, these irregularities will totally disappear, and the
difference between the polar and equatorial diameters, or
between the meridian and equator, be itself inappreciable.
The earth therefore, with all its inequalities, can alone be

GEOGRAPHY.

615

represented by a sphere ; and tlie only remaining question
is, how can the instniment be accurately constructed, and
most extensively applied ?

In constructing an uitificial sphere or globe, the fiist
operation is, to jjrepare a spherical body of wood, metal,
ivory, or such other substance as may l>c found most con-
venient. The materials commonly cmi)loyetl, and per-
haps upon the whole best adapted for this purpose, are pa-
per and plaster, prepared and combined by the following
process : On a spherical block or mould of wood, some-
what less than the size of the intended globe, are laid suc-
cessive coverings of paper or pasteboard, attached to one
another by glue oi' paste, till the whole is about the thick-
ness of -jtjth or W^ths of an inch. When completely dry,
this covering is cut into two hemispheres, by which it is
separated from the mould ; and the hemispheres being
again placed on a wooden axis, previously prepared for the
polar diameter of the globe, they arc stitched together in
the same position, as when attached to the block or mould.
In the extremities of the wooden axis, are fixed pins of iron
or other metal, which represent the poles, and by which
the globe is suspended in a metallic semicircle, whose di-
ameter is exactly equal to that of the intended globe. In
this state, a composition of whiting and glue is applied to
the surface of the paper, the globe in the mean lime being
made to revolve, so that the interior edge of the semicir-
cle, which is prepared for the purpose, pares off the super-
fluous plaster from the projecting parts of the sui face. The
V'hole being thus made perfectly smooth and spherical, and
at the same time equally balanced on its axis, so as to re-
main in any position in which it may be placed while sus-
pended by the poles, it is set aside to dry and harden, when
it is ready to receive the various circles which geographers
have imagined to be described on the surface of the earth,
and which we have already explained, viz. the equator,
ecliptic, meridians, the tropics, polar circles, and other
parallels of latitude. These circles being tlescribed by
some of the methods afterwards to be explained, the va-
rious parts of the surface of the earth are then delineated,
according to their actual situation, the position of every
place being determined by the intersection of its meridian
and parallel of latitude. The iron pins in the extremities
of the axis, formerly used for fixing the globe in the me-
tallic semicircle, for the purpose of applying the plaster,
are now employed to suspend it in a brass circle, of such a
diameter that the globe may revolve easily without coming
in contact with any part of its interior edge. This ring is
called the mih'ersal meridian, because, by the revolution of
the globe, it may be made to represent the meridian of any
place. The frame in which the globe is placed is various-
ly constructed, according to the taste and fancy of the woik-
man ; but its top or upper part always consists of a btoad
horizontal circle of wood or metal VVNES (Plate CCLXV.
Fig. 4 ) of which the inteiior diameter WE is equal to
the inteiior diameter of the brazen meridian. The latter,
vith the globe suspended in it, passes through notches at N
and S, and rests by its under edge in a groove in whicli it
may be made to slide, so as to elevate or depress the pole
at pleasure. In every position, however, one half of the
globe is above, and another below the surface of WNES,
which is therefore taken to represent the rational horizon.
On the surface of this horizontal rim are described several
concentric circles, variously divided, according to the pur-
poses which they are intended to serve. The largest, or
that towards the outer edge, is named the calendar, being
divided into 365 parts, representing the days of the year,
classed under their respective months. The next repre-
sents the ecliptic divided into signs and degrees, and so ar-
ranged that each point of the ecliptic stands opposite to the

day on ^yhich the sun is at that point. The names or cha-
racters of the diflVrent signs arc placed at the beginning,
or opposite the middle of each. The innermost circle re-
presents the horizon divided irito quadrants, two of these
being reckoned from W the west point, and the other two
from E the east point, towards N and S, the north and south
points. This circle, or rather another concentric with it,
liut larger, is divided into 32 equal paits, representing the
points or rhombs of the mariner's compass. The side of
the brazen meridian facing the west is divided into de-
grees, or if the size of the circle will admit into degress
and minutes, reckoning from the etjnator towards both poles
on two quadrants, and from the poles towards the equator
on the other two, each ([uadrant being numbered from 1 to
90. The circle representing the equator is also divided in-
to degrees in two directions, on each side of the first meri-
dian, which, on British globes, is that of Greenwich. The
I5th, 50th, 45th, &c. degrees towards the west are marked
I. II. III. &c. to facilitate the conversion of longitude, and
difference of longitude into lime, and the contrary. The
ecliptic, which is generally made to intersect the equator
and first meridian in the same point, is divided into 12
signs, each sign being again subdivided into 30 degrees,
and reckoned from the first meiidian eastward. The cha-
racters of the signs are placed at the beginning, or opposite
the middle of each, as on the horizon.

Such is a general view of the artificial sphere usually
employed to represent the earth. It is called the terrestrial
globe, to distinguish it from that used to represent the hea-
vens, and which is denominated the celestial qlobe. The
latter, like the terrestrial globe, is suspended by the poles
in a brazen or universal meridian, and. mounted in the same
way in a horizon. On its surface are described the equi-
noctial, the ecliptic, the tropics, the polar circles, the equi-
noctial and solstitial colures, circles of celestial longitude,
and parallels of celestial latitude. As the celestial sphere
revolves from east.to west, the graduation of the brazen me-
ridian is towards the east, but, in other respects, it is thQ
same as that of the terrestrial globe. The ecliptic is di-
vided in the same way as on the other globe, but opposite
each degree is a dot, representing the day on which the
sun is at that point. The degrees of the equator are rekon-
ed in one direction only, viz. towards the east, and the equi-
noctial and solstitial points are determined from actual
observation of the heavens. On the surface of the celes-
tial globe are represented the fixed stars, in their true re-
lative positions, distinguished according to their magni-
tudes, and arranged in constellations.

Besides the parts already described, there are other ap-
pendages common to both globes, which yet remain to be
explained. The principal of these are, the horary or hour
circle, the quadrant of altitude, and the comfiass.

The horary is a small brass circle gencraWy fixed on
the north poW of the globe, and divided into 24 equal parts,
representing the hours of the day. The divisions are num-
bered from 1 to 12 along the first .semicircle, and again
from 1 to \2 along the next, in '/le contrary direction to
that in which the globe natur»"y revolves. The circle is
moveable se[)arately by Ih* hand, so that any given hour
may be brought to the brazen meridian ; but when left to
itself, it turns with t'''e globe, and thus serves to measure
the whole, or aiy part of a revolution.

The giiadr>^nt of altitude is a graduated slip of brass, so
thin and flexible, as to be easily applied to the surface of
the globe. It is furnished at one extremity with a nut and
screw, by which it may be fastenerl to any part of the me-
ridian. When this extremity is fixed on the zenith of the
globe, the zei-o, or commencement of the graduation, co-
incides with the horizon, thus forming the fourth part of a

616

GEOGRArilY.

vertical circle. Tlic gradualion is also coniiinicd to the
other extremity of the quadrant, which is i^encrally about
18 or 20 degrees. It takes its name from !>cing applied to
measure the altitude of heavenly bodies.

The comfmss consists of a magnetic needle, suspended
over the centre of a circle, on the circumference of which
are marked the 32 points or rhomlis of the horizon. It is
in fact, the simplest form of the mariner's compass, fixed
in the under part of the frame or mountinjj, and used for
placing the brazen meridian in the meridian of the place.

It would be tedious oven to enumerate the various im-
provements and alterations, that have been from time to
time recommended, in the construction and use of the
globes, as well as of their appendages. Such an enumera-
tion, however, is we coiiccive unnecessary, because any
body who understands the general principle of the globes,
as we have now explained it, will find no difficulty in using
any of the instruments with which they may be accom-
panied ; and because niore information will be acquired, in
half an hour, from inspecting the globe itself, than we could
communicate in a whole volume of descriptions and draw-
ings. While, therefore, we have endeavoured, in the pre-
ceding short sketch, and by help of the representations,
Figs. 5 and 6. Plate CCLXV. to convey some idea of the
nature of the globes, we would conclude, by recommend-
ing to such of our readers as wish to become thoroughly
acquainted with the subject, to draw their information from
the instrument itself.

The most natural, as well as the most correct method of
tracing out circles of a globe, may easily be deduced from
the preceding description. Suppose, for example, it is
required to delineate on the surface of a spherical body, the
various lines and figures of the tei'restrial globe. From
cither of the points that represent the poles, with a radius
equal to half the distance between them, a circle is des-
cribed to represent the equator, and divided into degrees.
From the 90th degree of the equator with the same radius,
another circle is described, passing through the poles, and
representing the first meridian. Other meridians are des-
cribed in a similar manner, by taking for a centre every
fifth, tenth, or fifteenth degree of the equator, according to
the number required. The first, or any other meridian,
being divided into degrees, from the equator towards the
poles, the tropics and polar circles may be described from
the poles as centres, with radii extending to 233° and 56^°
respectively. Other parallels of latitude are described in
a similar manner. The ecliptic is described, by taking as
a centre the point which is in 90° west longitude, and 66i°
north latitude, and for a radius one-fourth of the circum-
ference of the globe. Having thus described all the cir-
cles, it only remains to lay down the different places of the
earth, according to their respective longitudes and latitudes
as determir.ed by observation, and described in books of
geography.

But though till; method of delineating globes is in itself
simple, and capable of being carried to'almost ar^y degree
of exactness, those who:^ business it is to construct them
for sale, have found it nece:.sary, in order to lurnish them
at a moderate price, to adopt ai.-,ther method, less accurate
perhaps, but much more expeditions. This method con-
sists in delineating, on separate piecesof paper of the form
iENQS, (Plate CCLXV. Fig. 7.) called gores, separate;
portions of the earth or the heavens, accorclii.o- as they are
intended for a terrestrial or celestial globe, and tiCterwards
fi.xing them in order on the surface of the sphere, when
N and S coincide with the poles, N^ES, NMS, and NQS
become meridians, and ^EMQ an arch of the equator.
Strictly speaking, indeed, no portion of paper can be ac-
curately fitted to a spherical surface ; but if jEQ be veiy

small compared to the whole circumference, the portion oi
the sphere, covered by the segment jf.NQS, will not scn-
sil)ly differ from a plane in the direction .'1".Q ; that is, the
arches of the cqu;iior yi'.M, QM, and of the parallel of la-
titude ab,cb, may l)e considered as straight lines perpen-
dicular to N.S. The number of segments necessary to co-
ver the globe, will depend on the length of the arch jEQ ;
but when the whole have been once carefully designed
and accurately fitted to the sphere, it is only necessary to
make correct engravings of the originals, in order to con-
struct, with comparatively little labour, any number of
globes of the same dimension. Sometimes the segments
are truncated at each extremity AB, CD, so as to leave a
small circular space about the ))olcs. These spaces aie
considered as plane surfaces, and are accordingly covered
with one circular piece of paper, on which the portions of
tlic meridians form radii of a ciicle. The method of deli-
neating the gores will be explained when we come to the
projection of maps.

Having thus shortly noticed the different methods of
constructing globes, we should now proceed to what more
properly constitutes the object of this Chapter, the appli-
cation of these instruments to the solution of problems.
Before concluding this Section, however, we would ob-
serve, that in perusing the terrestrial globe, the eye of the
observer is in its natural position ; but in the case of the
celestial globe, he must conceive himself situated in the
centre, and looking towards the concave surface. This
will perhaps be better understood by referring to the ar-
iniltartj s/t/ierc, as represented Fig, 8. Plate CCLXV. This
instrument consists of a number of metallic rings, so con-
nected as to lepresent the circles of the sphere, and at the
same lime to exhibit the apparent relative positions of the
earth and heavens. As delineated in the figure, N and S
represent the poles, and the line NS the axis of the world,
with the earth G in the centre ; HR the horizon, jEQ the
equinoctial, EL the ecliptic, jENQS the solstitial colure,
KM the equinoctial colure, TC the tropic of Cancer, T'C
the tropic of Capricorn, AP the arctic circle, and A'P' the
antarctic circle. The meridian yENQS is graduated in the
same way as the brazen meridian of the celestial globe,
viz. from M. towards N and S, and from N and S towards
Q ; and the horizon is moveable, so thafby raising or de-
pressing it at the north and south points, it may be made
to intersect the meridian .ffi,KQS, in any two opposite
points. The whole instrument rests on the southern ex-
tremity S of the axis, and is generally so constructed, that
the earth G, with the meridian ^ENQS, and horizon HR,
may be made to revolve from west to east, while the other
circles remain at rest; or the latter may be made to re-
volve from east to west, while the former remain fixed.
By means of the joint B, the sphere may be placed so as
that the north pole N may have any elevation, the angle of
that elevation being measured by tiie graduated arch F, at-
tached to BS, and passing through a slit in BD. In using
the celestial globe, then, the eye is supposed to be situated
on G, and viewing the circles of the armiilary sphere, the
hitter in all cases being placed in the same situation with
the globe.

Sect. II. Solutirjii of Problems by tke Globes.
I. Sy the Celestial Globe.

Pros. I. — To rectify the globe for any place, that is, 'o
give the globe the same position as the celestial sphere
has, to a spectator at any- place on the earth's surface.

Elevate the north or south pole, accordirg as the place

GEOGRAPHY.

617

is north or soiUli of the eqiiator, till its altitude be equal to
the latitude of the place.

Pros. II. — To find the sun's longitude, or place in the
ecliptic, for any given day.

Find the day under the ecliptic on the i^lohe, and oppo-
site to it will be the siffn and degree required. The pro-
blem may also be solved, by findnig the day in the calendar
on the wooden horizon, marking the sign and degree op-
posite to it, and finding the same sign and degree in the
ecliptic on the globe. As the sun is always in the ecliptic,
he has no latitude.

Prob. III. — To find the sun's right ascension and decli-
nation for any given day.

Bring the sun's place in the ecliptic to the graduated
edge of the brazen meridian, then the degree of the equa-
tor under the meridian will shew his right ascension, and
the degree of the meridian over his place will be his de-
clination. When the sun's declination is less than 23° 28',
there are two corresponding places in the ecliptic, which
may be found by marking those two points on the ecliptic,
which pass successively under the given declination on the
meridian.

Prob. IV. — To dispose the celestial globe, so as to ex-
hibit the actual appearance of the heavens at any given
time and place.

Rectify the globe for the latitude of the place, and bring
the sun's place in the ecliptic, and the 1 2th hour of the
horary to the brazen meridian. Turn the globe tov/ards
the east or west, according as the time is before or after
noon, till the given hour on the hour circle comes to the
meridian, and the globe will represent the actual appear-
ance of the heavens, at that time and place.

Prob. V. — To find those stars that never rise, and those
that never set, at a given place not under the equator.

Rectify the globe for the latitude, and make it revolve.
The stars that do not sink below the wooden horizon, are
those that never set, and the stars that do not appear above
it, are those that never rise in that latitude. If the place
be under the equator, every star is 12 hours above and 12
hours below the horizon.

Prob. VI. — To find the right ascension and declination
of a fixed star.

Bring the star to the brazen meridian, and its right as-
censioji and declination will be found, as in Problem III.

Prob. VII. — The right ascension and declination of a
star being given, to find the star on the globe.

Bring the degree of the equinoctial denoting the right
ascension to the meridian, and the degree of the meridian,
denoting the declination, will be over the star.

PuoB. Vill. — To find the longitude and latitude of a
given star.

Place the upper extremity, or 90th degree of the qua-
drant of altitude, on the north or south pole of the ecliptic,
according as the star is north or south of the ecliptic, and
let its graduated edge fall upon the star; then the degree
of the ecliptic, intersected by the quadrant, will be the
longitude of the star, and the degree of the quadrant over
the star, its latiiude.

Prob. IX. — The longitude and latitude of a star being
given, to find the star upon the globe.

Place the extremity of the quadrant of altitude on the
pole of the ecliptic, and make its graduated edge intersect
the ecliptic, in the longitude of the star; then the star will
be found, under the degree of the quadrant denoting its
latitude.

Prob. X — To find what stars are rising, setting, or cul-
minating, at any given time and place, and also the altitude
and azimuth of any star, at the same time and place.

Vol. IX. P.VRT IF.

Dispose tlie globe as \n Prob. IV. then the stars under
the eastern side of the horizon are rising, those under the
western side arc setting, and those under the meridian arc
culminating.

If the quadrant of altitude be fixed on the zenith, and
its graduated edge made to fall on a given star, the degree
of the quadrant over the star will be its altitude, and the
degree of the horizon intersected by the quadrant its azi-
muth.

^^ Puoii. XT. — To find when a given star rises, sets, or
culminates at any place on any given day.

Dispose the globe and hour circle as in the first part of
Prob. IV. then bring the star successively to the eastern
side of the horizon, the meridian, and western side of the
horizon, and the times of its rising, culminating, and setting
on the hour circle, will come to the meridian respectively.

Prob. XII. — To find the apparent angular distance be-
tween two stars ; tiiat is, the arch of the great circle iii-
terccpted between them.

Apply the quadrant of altitude to the globe, so that its
graduated edge may full on both the stars, the zero, or
commencement of the graduation, being on one of them ;
then the degree of the quadrant over the other will be the
angular distance lequired.

Ptob. XIII. — To find when a planet rises, sets, or cul-
minates on any day at a given place.

Find the planet's place on the globe, from its longitude
and latitude, or right ascension and declination, as given
in the Nautical Almanack, or any other cphemcris, and fix
on that place the name or character of ti-.e planet ; then its
rising, setting, or culminating, also its altitude, azimuth,
he. may be found in the same way as if it were a fixed
star. In general, all the problems relative to the fixed
stars are applicable to the planets, the places of the latter
being determined from the cphemcris.

Prob. XIV. — To illustrate, generally, the phenomena
of the harvest and hunter's moons.

The moon's orbit forms with the ecliptic an angle of
5j-°, and advances about 13° daily from west to east. But
to simplify the problem, let it be supposed, in the first in-
stance, that her orbit coincides with the ecliptic, and that
her place and hour of rising being given for one day, it is
required to find her hour of rising for the next.

Rectify the globe for the latitude, bring the moon's place
to the east side of the horizon, and the hour to the brazen
meridian, then turn the globe westward till the point of the
ecliptic, 13° from the given point, come to the horizon, and
the hour required will be under the meridian.

By solving this problem for various points of the eclip-
tic, assumed as the moon's places, it will appear, that the
difference in the time of her rising on any two consecutive
days, to a place not under the equ;itor, is always considera-
bly less when the moon is in Pisces and Aries, and greater
in the opposite signs, than in any other point of the ecliptic,
and that this difference increases with the latitude of the
place of observation. Thus if the globe be rectified for
the latitude of 5 6° north, and the above problem solved,
supposing the moon's place to be the beginning of Libra,
it will be found, that the time of her rising one day will
be upwards of li hour later than on the preceding; but if
her place be Jhe beginning of Aries, her time of rising will
be little more than one quarter of an hour later, so tiiat she
rises for several days nearly at the same time. This phe-
nomenon, though it must obviously happen every month,
was long considered as peculiar to the autumnal months,
when the sun is in Virgo and Libra, because it is only then
that the moon is in Pisces and Aries, at the time of her

being full.

4 I

618

GEOGRAPHY.

Such is a brief illustration of the harvest and hunter's
inoon, on the supposition that the moon revolves in the
ecliptic. As her orbit, however, is inclined to that circle
at an anj^le of 5|", and as her nodes, or points where her
orbit intersects the ecliptic, are constantly shifting, it may
easily be shewn by describing several great circles, inclin-
ed to the ecliptic at an angle of 5 1°, but cutting it at dif-
ferent points, and solving the above piobleni, that the dif-
ference of time in the moon's rising during these montlis,
is sometimes greater, and sometimes less than it would be
if she revolved in the ecliptic. See Astronomy, Vol. n.

Prob. XV. — To trace the apparent path of a comet on
the celestial globe.

If the right ascension and declination of the comet be
known, at two different periods, find its position at each by
Prob VII. lay the quadrant of altitude through both, and
join them with a pencil line, which will represent the in-
termediate path. If the longitude and latitude of the co-
met be observed, its places may be determined by Prob.
IX. and if its azimuth and altitude be known at any hour,
the latitude of the place of observation being also given,
its place may be found thus: Disjiuse the globe as in Prob.
IV. fix the quadrant of altitude on the zenith, and make its
graduated edge intersect the horizon in the azimuth of the
comet ; then the degree of the quadrant denoting its alti-
tude will be over the comet's place. If the positions of
the comet, as determined in any of these ways, be at a
greater distance from each other than the length of the
quadrant of altitude, they may be both brought to coincide
with the horizon, and the path traced accordingly.

The preceding examples, though only a few of the pro-
blems that may be solved by the celestial globe, will be
sufficient to shew the general principle of such solutions,
and if that principle be well luiderstood, the reader will
find no difficulty in applying it to any particular case. The
problems relating to the sun, anil which are frequently
solved by the celestial globe, we consider as bearing more
directly on the subject of this article. We have therefore
reserved them for the second class of problems, viz. those
solved by the terrestrial globe, to which we now proceed,

II. By the Terrestrial Globe.

Prob. XVI. — To find the latitude and longitude of a
given place on the earth's surface.

Set the twelfth hour of the horary circle to the first me-
ridian, bring both to the brazen meridian, and turn the
globe till the given place be under the brazen meridian ;
then the degree of the meridian over the place will be its
latitude, the point of the equator intersected by the meri-
dian its longitude in degrees, and the hours of the horary
that pass under the meridian the longitude in time.

If the equator be divided into hours as well as degrees,
the problem may be solved without any previous adjust-
ment of the hour circle, by simply bringing the place to
the brazen meridian.

Prob. XVII. — The latitude and longitude of a place
being given, to find the place on the globe.

Find the longitude on the equator, and bring it to the
brazen meridian, then the degree of the meridian denoting
the latitude will be over the place.

Prob. XVIII. — To find the difference of latitude and
the difference of longitude between two given places.

Find the latitudes of both places by Prob. XVI. and
take the difference or sum of these according as they lie
on the same side, or on different sides of the equator. The
difference of longitude is found in the same way, by taking
the differenceor sum of the longitudes according as they

lie on the same side, or on opposite sides of the first me-
ridian.

Prob. XIX. — The hour being given at one place, to find
the hour at any other place at the same time.

Bring the given place and hour to the meridian, then
turn the globe till the other place comes to the meridian,
and the hours that pass under the meridian added to, or
subtracted from the first given hour, according as the
second place is to the east or west of the first, will give
the hour required.

PuoB. XX.— The hour being given at any place, to find
the places where it is any other given hour at the same
time.

Bring the given place, with the hour at that place, to the
meridian, then turn the globe towards the east or west, ac-
cording as the second given hour is earlier or later than
the first, till the difference between them pass under the
meridian, and the places required will be under the meri-
dian.

Prob. XXI. — To find the distance between two given
places on the earth.

Find the number of degrees, of a great circle, intercept-
ed between them; these degrees multiplied by 60, or by
69.045, will give the distance in geographical and English
miles respectively. The number of degrees may be found
from the brazen meridian, if the places are under the same
meridian ; from the equator, if they are both under the
equator ; and from the quadrant of altitude applied to
them, if they are neither under the equator, nor on the
same meridian.

Prob. XXII. — Given two places, it is required to find
the angle which a 'great circle, passing through them,
makes with the meridian of each.

When the places are under the same meridian, the an-
gles are 0, and when they are under the equator, the an-
gles are 90°.

When the places are neither on the same meridian, nor
under the equator, place the globe in such a position, that
both the places may be in the horizon together, and a line
drawn with a pencil along the horizon will be a great cir-
cle passing through the places ; the globe being then rec-
tified for both places successively, as in Piob. I. and the
places themselves brought to the brazen meridian, the
arches of the horizon, intercepted between the meridian
and the circle passing through the places, will be the
measures of the angles required.

This and the preceding problem may be very convenient-
ly applied to the solution of questions in globular sailing.
Thus, if the ship be steered on an arch of a great ciicle,
the distance sailed is found by Prob. XXI, and the ihombs
on which the ship must leave the one place and arrive at
the other, by Prob. XXII.

Exanifile 1. A ship leaves A, Lat. 16° south, Long. 5°
50' west, and sailing on a great circle arrives at B, Lat. 32°
30' north. Long. 63° 30' west, required the distance sailed,
and the rhombs on which she left A and arrived at B ?

1. Describe on the globe with a pencil a great circle
passing through A and B, and find the length of the inter-
sected arch by Prob. XX. which in this case will be about
73" 50', or 4410 geographical miles.

2. Rectify the globe for the latitude of A, bring it to the
meridian, and mark the point where the great circle pass-
ing through B intersects the horizon, which will be about
48° from the north point towards the west.

3. Rectify the globe for the latitude of B ; bring it to the
meridian, and mark the point of the horizon again intersect-
ed by the great circle, and whicli will now be found to be
nearly 58° from the north towards the west. It appears,

GEOGRAPHY.

619

therefore, that a ship sailing from A to B, upon a great
circle, must leave A on the rhomb N. 48" W., and gradu-
ally cliaiiging her course, must arrive at B on the rhomb
N. 58° W. having run a distance of about 4410 geographi-
cal miles.

Examfilc 3. A ship leaves A Lat. 16° S. on a course N.
48° W. and sailing on a great circle arrives at B, Lat. 32°
30' N. ; required the difference of longitude and 4istance
between A and B ?

Rectify tbe globe for the latitude of A, and bring it to
the meridian. Fix the quadrant of altitude on A, and make
its graduated edge intersect the horizon in the given course
(N. 48° W.); then the point where the quadrant of altitude
intersects the parallel of 32° 30', is the position of B. Tiie
place being thus determined, the difference of longitude
may be found by Prob. XVIII. and the distance by Prob.
XXI. In this example the former is about 57" 40', and
the latter 4410 geographical miles.

Exam/ile 3. A ship sails from B, Lat. 32° 30' N. on a
course S. 58° E. and when she reaches A, her difference
of longitude is 57° 40'; required the difference of latitude,
and distance between A and B, the ship having sailed on a
great circle ?

Bring B to the meridian, and rectify the globe for its
latitude. Place the quadrant of altitude on B, and let its
graduated edge intersect the horizon in the given course
(S. 58° E.); then the point where the quadrant intersects
a meridian, 57° 40' E. of the meridian of B, will give the
position of A, and A being determined, the difference of
latitude and distance may be found by Probs. XVIII. and
XXI. The former in this example is 48° 30*, and the lat-
ter 4410 geographical miles.

Examples of this kind might be multiplied, but the
preceding are sufficient to illustrate the general principle.
See Navigation.

Prob. XXIII. To find those places in the torrid zone,
to which the sun will be vertical, on any given day.

Find the sun's place in the ecliptic by Prob. II. solution
2d, bring that place to the meridian, and mark the degree
of the meridian over it; all the places that pass under that
degree while the globe revolves, will have the sun vertical
that day.

Prob. XXIV. — The day and hour being given at any
place, to find where the sun is then vertical.

Find the sun's declination, or the parallel to which he is
vertical that day, and bring the given place and hour to the
meridian ; then turn the globe, till the 12th hour at noon
come to the meridian, and the intersection of the meridian,
■with the parallel of latitude to which the sun is vertical,
will be the place required.

Puon. XXV. — A place being given in the torrid zone,
to find on what days the sun will be vertical there.

Find the latitude of the place, and the points of the eclip-
tic which have the same latitude; the days in the calendar,
opposite to these points, will be the days required.

Prob. XXVI— To find the sun's altitude and azimuth
at any given time and place.

Rectify the globe for the given latitude, and bring the
sun's place in the ecliptic and the 12th hour of the horary
to the brazen meridian. Turn the globe towards the east
or west, according as the time is before or after mid-day,
till the diff"erence between the given hour and 1 2 is undei-
the meridian. Fix the quadrant' of altitude on the zenith,
and make its graduated edge fall on the sun's place in the
ecliptic ; then the degree of the quadrant over the sun's
place will be his altitude, and the point of the horizon in-
tersected by the quadrant his azimuth.

If the sun's meridian altitude be required, it is found by

rectifying the globe for the latitude, and bringing the sun's
place to the meridian, when the arch of the meridian inter-
cepted between the sun's place and the horizon will be the
altitude required. In this case the azimuth is notliiiig.

PiioB. XXVII.— To find the circle of illumination for
any day, and the places that are above or below it at any
hour of that day, reckoning the time at a given place.

Rectify the globe for the latitude to which the sun is
vertical, and the horizon will represent the circle of illu-
mination. Bring the given place and hour to the meridian,
and turn the globe towards the west or east, according as
the hour is before or after mid-day, till 12 of the hour cir-
cle be under the meridian; then the horizon will represent
the circle of illumination at the given hour. To the places
in the western side of the horizon, the sun is rising, to
those in the eastern side, he is setting, and to those under
the meridian, he is culminating.

Prob. XX VIII. — To find the hour of the sun's rising or
setting, as well as his amplitude, on any day, at any place,
whose latitude does not exceed 66° 32'.

Rectify the globe for the latitude of the place, anej bring
the sun's place in the ecliptic, and the 12th hour of the
horary, to the brazen meridian. Then turning the globe
eastward till the sun's place be in the horizon, the hour
under the meridian subtracted from 12 will be the hour
of his rising, and the point of the horizon coinciding with
his place will be his eastern amplitude. In like manner,
turning the globe westward, till the sun's place be again
in the horizon, the hour under the meridian, subtracted
from 12, will be the hour of his setting, and the point of
the horizon, coinciding with his place, will be his western
amplitude.

In solving this problem by the celestial globe, the me-
thod now shewn is the most obvious and natural, because,
in using the celestial globe, the heavens are supposed to
revolve, every point rising above the horizon in the east,
and sinking beneath it in the west, while the earth itself
remains fixed, and the hour circle is graduated according-
ly. But in solving the problem by the terrestrial globe,
when the sun is supposed to be stationary at his place in
the ecliptic for that day, and the time of his rising or set-
ting to any place, is the time when that place, by the revo-
lution of the earth from west to east, is on the west or east
side of the circle of illumination, the following method,
when the hours cf rising and setting only are wanted, is
perhaps more natural.

Find the circle of illumination for the day ; bring the
given place and the 12th hour of the horary to the meri-
dian ; then turning the globe westward till the place is in
the horizon, the hour under the meridian will shew the
time of the sun's rising, and turning it eastward till the
place is again in the horizon, the hour under the meridian
will shew the time of his setting. It is an advantage at-
tending this method of solution, that the horary shews the
time at once, and by one rectification of the globe may be
found the length of the day, in any latitude between the po-
lar circles, as well as those places within the polar circles
where the sun never rises or never sets on that day.

Prob. XXIX. — To find the length of any day or night,
at any given place.

Find the hour of sun rising and sun setting by Prob.
XXVI II. double the latter will be the length of the day,
and double the former the length of the night.

Prob. XXX. — To find when, and how long, the sun is
present to, or absent from, a given place within the frigid
zone.

Rectify the globe for the latitude of the place, and while
it revolves on its axis, mark the points of the ecliptic, which
41 2

620

GEOGRAPHY.

coincide wivti the north oi- south point of llie horizon, ac-
cording as the place is in the north or south fris^id zone.
Find the days in the calendar corresponding; to these points,
and they will be the limits of the time, during which the
sun never sets at the given place. If the points of the
ecliptic intersected by tlie opposite point of the horizon be
marked, the days corresponding to these points, will be
the limits of the time, during which the sun never rises at
the place.

The problem may be solved without rectifying the globe
thus.

Find the sun's places in the ecliptic when his declina-
tion is equal to the co-latitude of the place, and on the
same side of the equator ; the days, corresponding to these
points, will be the limits of the time during which the sun
is present to the place. In like manner, find his places
when his declination is equal to the co-latitude of the given
place, but on the opposite side of the equator ; and the days,
corresponding to these points, will be the limits of his ab-
sence from the place.

PuoB. XXXI. — To find in what latitude any given day,
not one of the equinoxes, is of any given length less than
24 hours.

Rectify the globe for the sun's place in the ecliptic, and
bring the first, or any other meridian, with 12 of the hour
circle, to the brazen meridian ; then turning the globe cast-
ward, till the hour denoting half the given length of the
'day be under the brazen meridian, the point of the first
meridian, intersected by the eastern side of the horizon, will
be the latitude required.

The problems, for finding in what latitudes the longest
day is of any given length, and for determining the boun-
daries of the different climates, between the polar circles,
are only particular cases of the preceding general prob-
lem.

Prob. XXXII. — To find the hour of the day by expos-
ing the globe to the sun's rays.

Place the globe so that the wooden horizon may be level,
and the brazen meridian may coincide with the meridian of
the place. Rectify the globe for the latitude, and bring the
sun's place in the ecliptic, and 12 of the hour circle, to
the brazen meridian. In the sun's place fix a small pin
or needle perpendicular to that place, and turn the globe
till the pin has no shadow, that is, till it point directly to-
wards the sun ; then the hour under the brazen meridian,
subtracted from 12, will be the hour of the day.

For various other methods of solving the preceding
problem, see Adam's Astronomical and Geographical Es-
says.

Prob. XXXIII.— To find when
the morning, and ends at night, on any day.

Rectify the globe for the latitude of the place : bring the
12th hour of the horary and the sun's place in the ecliptic
to the brazen meridian, and fix the quadrant of altitude on
the zenith. Turn the globe westward, till the point of the
ecliptic diametrically opposite to the sun's place cut the
quadrant of altitude 18° above the eastern side of the hori-
zon, and the hour denoting the beginning of twilight in the
morning, will be under tlie brazen meridian. By turning
the globe in the opposite direction, till the point opposite
the sun's place be 13° above the western side of the hori-
zon, the hour circle will shew the end of twilight in the
evening. In those latitudes where the sun does not sink
more than 18° beneath the horizon, the twilight continues
all night. See Astronomy.

Prob. XXXIV. — To construct a horizontal dial by the
globe. .

Rectify the globe for the latitude of the place, and bring

the twilight

begins in

the first meridian to the brazen meridian ; the arches of the
horizon, intercepted between the first meridian, and the
meridians passing through every fifteentli degree of the
equator, will be the measures of the angles, which the
hour lines must make with the meridian line.

Hxam/ilc. It is rc(iuued to construct a horizontal dial
for Edinburgh, supposuig its latitude to be 56".

Elevate the north pole 56° above the liorizon, and bring
the meridian of London to tlic brazen meridian. While
the globe remains fixed in this position, the meridians on
each side of the first meridian, and 15° distant from it, will
intersect the horizon "7-]°, or more accurately 77° 28' from
the east and west points, that is 1 2" 32' from the south
point, therefore the hour lines for 1 1 forenoon, and 1 after-
noon, must make with the meridian line, eacli an angle of
12° 32'. The meridians on each side of the first meridian,
and 30° distant from it, will intersect the horizon in 64° 25',
that is 25° 35' from the south point, which is therefore the
angle that the hour lines, of 10 and 2, must make with the
meridian. In the same manner may be found tlie angles
made by the other hour lines, after which the dial is to be
constructed according to the directions given under the
article Dialling, § 40.

The lines for half hours and quarters may be found in
the same way as the hour lines, if meridians be described
on the globe, dividing every 15° of the equator into four
equal parts, that is at the distance of 3° 45' from each other.
But as globes have seldom so many meridians, the half
hours and quarters may be found thus:

Having disposed the globe as directed above, turn it in
cither direction, till the brazen meridian intersect the equa-
tor in 3° 45', and the arch of the horizon, intercepted be-
tween the brazen meridian and the first meridian, will be
the measure of the angle, which the line of three quarters
past 1 1, or a quarter past 12, must make with the meridian
line. Turn the globe in the same direction, till the brazen
meridian intersect the equator in 7° 30', and the arch of the
horizon intercepted between the brazen meridian, and the
first meridian, will measure the angle which the line of
half past 1 1, or half past 12, must make with the meridian
line, and thus every other quarter and half hour line may
be found, by bringing successively to the brazen meridiaa
every 5° 45' of the equator. If the globe is moved only
1° 15' at once, the successive arches of the horizon, inter-
cepted between the brazen meridian and first mcridiafl,
will measure the angles which the lines of every 5 minutes
must make with the meridian line, and so of any other sub-
division.

To construct a vertical south or north dial, rectify the
globe for the co-latitude of the place, and pi'oceed as in
the case of a horizontal dial. See Dialling, § 51. — The
application of tiie armillary sphere to the solution of prob-
lems, is the same in principle with that of the globes.

CHAP. III.

Of M.^ps.

Sect. I. 0/ Ma/is in General.

Though the representation of the terrestrial sphere, by
means of a globe, is the simplest as well as the most ac-
curate, it has been found in many respects deficient for the
purposes of geography. If the globe be made very large,
it becomes expensive and incommodious; if small, the
places which it ought to represent are either too much
crowded, or altogether omitted. To remedy these defecfs.

GEOGRAPHY.

(321

geographers have contrived to delineate the earth's sur-
face on a plane, hy which means the wliole or any portion
may be easily represented, on a greater or less scale, ac-
cording to circumstances. Such representations are in
general denominated majis, and are also distinguished by
particular names, according to their nature or use. Thus
a map represcnling the whole world is called a ftlanis/iliere;
if it represent a considerable poi tion of the globe, it is
called a general mafi ; and a Jiarticular inafi, if it contains
only a country. When a portion of a country is represent-
ed on a large scale, with the direction of roads, the course
of small rivulets, and the position of villages and single
houses, it is called a lojiografihical mo/i. Hence also mi-
neralogical mafis, intended to illustrate the geological struc-
ture of a country ; and nautical ma/is or c/iartsi used for
the purposes of navigation. With regard to the position
of maps, it may be observed, that whatever be their na-
ture or use, the north is generally at the top, the east on the
right hand, the south at the bottom, and the west on the
left hand. The graduation of the equator, or degrees of
longitude, are marked at the top and bottom, and the gra-
duations of the meridian, or degrees of latitude, on the right
and left sides.

The various methods adopted by geographers in the con-
struction of maps, may be referred to two principles. Pro-
jection and Developement. By tirojeetion is meant, a
representation of the surface of the sphere on a plane, as
it appears to the eye situated at a particular point; and by
develofiement is to be understood the unfolding, or spread-
ing out, of a spherical surface on a plane. We are now
to explain, brielly, the construction of maps according to
both of these principles; but as we shall frequently have
occasion to employ lines of chords, sines, tangents, secants,
Sec. we shall here show the method of constructing these
lines, and explain so much of their nature and use, as may
be necessary for our present purpose.

From any point C, (Plate CCLXV. Fig. 9.) draw CA,
CD at right angles to one another, and with any convenient
radius CA, describe a quadrant ABD. Join AD, and from
A as a centre, through every degree of the arch ABD, de-
scribe arches intersecting AD, marking these intersec-
tions with the corresponding degrees of the quadrant. Then
AD will be a line of chords. From each degree of the
quadrant let fall perpendiculars on AC, and it will be a
line of sines. Produce CD indefinitely towards E, and
through A draw AF parallel to CE. Through the centre
C, and each degree of tlic quadrant, draw lines intersect-
ing AF, and it will become a line of tangents. From C
as a centre, through every intersection of AF, describe
arches intersecting DE, and CE will be a line of secants.
And lastly, through every half degree in the line of tan-
gents, draw parallels to CD, and it will be a line of semi-
tangents.

For practical purposes, the lines, after being divided
in this manner, are transferred to flat rulers of different
sizes, where tliey are drawn parallel to one another, gene-
rally in the following order, chords, sines and secants in
one line,- tangents, and semitangcnts. In using them, no-
thing more is necessary, than to extend the compasses
from the extremity df the line, to the number denoting the
degrees of tlie given arch: thus the distances from A to
40 on AD, from C to 40 on AC, from A to 4-0 on AF, from
C to 40 on DF, and from C to 40 on CD, will give respec-
tively the chord, sine, tangent, secant, and semi-tangent of
an arch of 40", the radius of the arch being equal to AC.
In any set of lines, the chord of 60°, is always equal to
the radius of the quadrant, from which the lines are con-
structed.

Sect. II. Construction of Ma/is by Projection.

In projecting an object upon a plane, according to the
rules of perspective, Xho /ilane of /irojeclion, or that on
wliich the object is to be delineated, is generally supposed
to be transparent, and situated between the eye and the
object to be projected. The i)osition of the eye is called
the firojecting point, and the sfaiglu line drawn liom this
point, perpendicular to the plane of projection, is termed
the axis of that plane. The projection of any point of the
object, is the point which it is to occupy, when transferred
to the plane of projection, and is always detcnnined from
the intersection of that plane, by the ray of light coming
from the given point to tlie eye.

Tlie different methods of projecting the sphere, arising
from the different distances of the projecting point, are ge-
nerally reckoned four, the gnomonic or central, the ortho-
graphic, the stereographic, and the globular. In the gno-
monic projection, tlie eye is supposed to be placed in the
centre, and the plane of projection is tangent to the pole of
the hemisphere to be projected. In the orthographic, the
eye is supposed to be at an infinite distance from the sphere,
so that the rays of light coming from every point of the
hemisphere, may be considered as parallel to one another.
In the stereographic projection, the eye is situated on the
surface of the sphere, in the pole of the circle of projec-
tion. And in the globular, its distance from the sphere is
equal to the sine of 45°. In each of these methods of
projection, as applied to the globe, there maybe three dif-
ferent cases, according to the position of the sphere, witli
regard to the projecting point. These are called the /jo/ar,
eqtmtorial, and horizontal projections. In the first, the
plane of projection, or primitive circle, coincides with the
equator, and one of the poles is in the centre of the map.
In the second, the primitive is a meridian, and a point of
the equator is in the centre ; and in the last, the horizon is
the primitive, of which the given place occupies the cen-
tre. We shall now proceed to the mechanical construc-
tion of a planisphere or map of the world, according to
these difi'erent methods, referring to the article Projec-
tion, for the investigation of the principles of each,

I. By Gnomonic Projection.

This method, as its name implies, constitutes the foun,"
dation of dialling, but is very seldom used in the construc-
tion of maps. The disadvantages with which it is attended
in its application to the latter, are the distorted appearance
which it gives to countries at a distance from the centre of
projection, and the difficulty of describing parallels of lati-
tude, which in the equatorial and horizontal projections are
parabolas, ellipses, or hyperbolas. In the /io/nr projection,
however, where the primitive is parallel to the equator, this
difficulty is removed, the parallels of latitude being pro-
jected into concentric circles, while the meridians, which
in every case of this method are represented by straight
lines, intersect one another in the centre of the projection,
forming at that point, the same angles that they do on the
surface of the sphere. By this method, therefore, we ob-
tain a very simple and expeditious projection, of the north- ■
ern or southern parts of the globe, and at the same time a
tolerably accurate representation, at least of the polar re-
gions. This projection is shewn in Fig. 10, which is con-
structed thus.

From the centre P, with 60 from the line of chords, de-
scribe the circle WLEM for the primitive, and draw the
diameter LM to repn'sent the first meridian. From M set
oft" successively towards E and W the chord of 5, 10, or

622

GEOGRirHY.

15 degrees, according to the number of meridians vvanled ;
and through these points, draw diameters for tlic meridians
required. To find tlie parallels of latitude, take the tan-
gents of their respective co-latitudes, or distances from the
pole, and with these radii describe concentric circles about
the centre P. Thus the tangent of 10°, is the radius of
the parallel of 80°, the tangent of 20°, is the radius of the
parallel of 70°, kc. ; that is, PiVI is converted by the inter-
sections of the parallels into a line of tangents to radius
PM. The parallel of 45° corresponds with the primitive
VVLEM, after which the radii increase with great rai)idity
as they approach the equator, which becomes infinite.
Hence, a whole hemispiicre cannot be projected by this
method, and it is obvious from inspection, that of what can
be projected, the countries farther from the pole than the
60tli parallel of latitude, must be very inaccurately repre-
sented.

Having drawn the meridians, and described the parallels
of latitude as above, the continents, seas, islands, &cc. which
it is intended to represent, are to be delineated according
to their relative situations and extent, the position of every
point being determined by the intersection of its meridian
and parallel of latitude. This may be considered as a ge-
neral rule for determining the position of places in all
projections ; but as meridians and parallels of latitude can-
not be described through every degree, the position of any
intermediate point in the preceding method, may be found
readily thus : Transfer to the edge of a flat ruler the di-
visions of the line of tangents, then by laying the com-
mencement of this scale on P, and the graduated edge on
the degree of the primitive denoting the longitude, the di-
vision of the scale corresponding to the co-Ialitude of the
place, will shew the position required.

II. By Orthografihic Projection.

Though this method of projection is more frequently
employed in geography than the preceding, it affords but
a very imperfect and inaccurate representation of the whole
hemisphere. From the position of the eye, the parts of
the sphere arc seen more and more obliquely as they ap-
proach the primitive, and consequently the countries at a
distance from the centre of projection are contracted far
below their natural limits. The orthographic projection,
therefore, though the reverse of the gnomonic as to its de-
fects, is like the latter best adapted for representing coun-
tries at a moderate distance from the centre of projection.
The representations of the hemisphere on orthographic
principles, usually employed in geograpliy, are the polar
and equatorial, which are constructed as follows :

1. The Polar. From the centre P, (Plate CCLXV.
Fig. 11.) with 60° from the line of chords, describe the
primitive WLEM, which will represent the equator, and
draw the meridians as in Fig. 10. To find the parallels of
latitude, take the sines of their respective co-latitudes, and
with these radii describe circles about the centre P. Thus
the sine of 10° is the radius of the parallel of 80°, the sine
of 20" is the radius of the parallel of 70°, Sec. or PM is
converted by the intersections of the parallels into a line of
sines to radius PM. Hence, to find the radii of the paral-
lels without the help of lines previously constructed, divide
ME into as many equal parts as the parallels wanted, and
let fall perpendiculars from these divisions on MP ; the
distances between P and these perpendiculars will be the
radii required.

In this projection the whole hemisphere is represented
within the primitive, which in the gnomonic is occupied
by the zone of 45° round the pole; but the countries near

the equator are very much distorted from tlieir true di-
mensions.

2. The Er/uatorial. From jE (Fig. 1. Plate CCLXVI.,)
with the chord of 60°, describe the meridian WNES for
the primitive, and draw the diameters WE,NS at right
angles to one another ; the former to represent the equa-
tor, and the latter a meridian at right angles to the primi-
tive. From jE towards E, set off' Ah- Mg. Mf, Sec. equal to
the sines of 5°, 10°, 15°, or of 10°, 20°, 30°, Sec. according
to the number of meridiarK, wanted ; then elliptic arches
described through N a S, N 6 S, N c S, he. will re-
present the meridians, in this case, 10° distant from each
other, or whose angles of inclination to the primitive,
measured by the arches of the equator intercepted between
them, are 10°, 20°, 30". Sec. respectively. (Plate CCLXVI.
Fig. 1.) Of these ellipses, NS is always the transverse
axis, and M a, M b, M c, Sec. the semiconjugates.
Hence, to find the foci of any given arch N/ S; from/
the extremity of the semiconjugate, as a centre, with the
radius iEN, half the transverse, describe an arch intersect-
ing NS in F and F' : these points will be the foci required.
The foci being found, the ellipse may be described accord-
ing to the method explained under Conic Sections, or by
any of the elliptic instruments described under the article
Dn.\wiNG Instruments. If the whole ellipse NyS be
described, the other scmicircumference will represent the
corresponding meridian on the opposite side of NS. The
points a, b, c, d. Sec. may also be found by dividing EN or
ES into nine equal parts, and letting fall perpendiculars
from every division on EjE. Straight lines drawn through
the divisions of EN, and parallel to EW, will represent
parallels of latitude.

When this projection is made upon the solstitial coliire,
the planisphere is distinguished by the name of ^nalemma,
and is the foundation of a simple instrument of the same
name used for the solution of various astronomical prob-
lems. See ANALEMMA,and Projection of the Sphere.

The orthographical projection of the sphere on the
plane of the horizon, is seldom used in constructing maps,
partly from the inaccuracy of representation common to it
with the preceding methods, but chiefly from the difficulty
of construction, both meridians and parallels of latitude
being projected into ellipses. It is applied to the projec-
tion of solar eclipses. See AsxaoNOMy, vol, ii.

III. By Stereograflhic Projection,

In delineating maps according to the principles of this
projection, the defects of the other methods are in a great
measure avoided, both as to the accuracy of representation,
and the facility of construction. These advantages are chief-
ly owing to the two following properties, by which the ste-
reographic projection is distinguished from every other. 1«/,
All circles are projected into circles or straight lines ; and,
2dty, The projections of any two circles intersect one ano-
ther in the plane of projection, at the same angle that the
circles themselves do on the surface of the sphere.

In maps of the world constructed on stereograpliic prin-
ciples, the projection is generally made on the plane of a
meridian, the eye being successively placed in the poles
of that meridian opposite the hemisphere to be projected.
As the method, however, is of very extensive application,
we shall give an example of all the three cases.

1. The Polar. From P (Fig. 2. Plate CCLXVI.) with
60° from the line of chords, describe the primitive WLEM,
in this case the equator, and draw diameters for meridians
as in the gnomonic polar projection. To project the pa-
rallels of latitude, take from the scale the semitangents of

GEOGRAPHY.

623

their compliments of latitude, or distances from the pole,
and with these radii describe concentric circles about P.
Thus the scmitangent of 10" will be the radius of the pa-
rallel of 80", the semitangent of 2o° will be the radius of
the parallel of 70°, Sec. that is, PM by the intersections of
the parallels is converted into a line of scniitangcnts to
radius PM. The radii of the parallels may also be found
thus : From W draw straight lines to every tenth degree
of the quadrant ME, intersecting the line MP in 10", 20°,
30°, &c. then the distances between P and these intersec-
tions will be the radii of parallels for every tenth degree of
latitude.

2. The Equatorial. In this method, which is most fre-
quently used in constructing terrestrial maps, the meridian
of any place may be taken for the primitive, or plane of
projection: but for the more convenient representation of
the earth in two hemispheres, it is usual to take one of those
meridians, which nearly separate the eastern and western
continents. In Biitish maps, the projection is generally
made on the plane of the meridian 20° west from the me-
ridian of London, that is, the projecting points are in the
equator 70° east, and 110° west, from the first meridian.
The projection of meridians and parallels of latitude, ac-
cording to this method, is lepresented in Fig. 3, which is
constructed thus.

From K. with the chord of 60° describe the meridian
WNES for the primitive, and through the centre draw
WE and NS at right angles to one another, the former re-
presenting the equator, and the latter a meridian at right
angles to the primitive. (Plate CCLXVI. Fig. 3.) From
jE, set off on K. Ka.JS. Mb, c, &;c. the tangents of 5°, 10°,
15°, kc; or of 10°, 20", 30°, &c., according to the number
6f meridians wanted, and from these divisions, as centres,
describe arches of circles passing through the poles P andS ;
these arches will be the projections of meridians between jE
and W. In the same manner may be described meridians on
the other side of NS. In fig. 3. M a, M b, &C. are the tan-
gents of 10°, 20°, &c. therefore the arch described from a,
viz. N m S next to W, is 80° from N .£ S, the meridian
passing through the projecting point, that described from
b, viz. the second from W, is 70° from the same meridian,
and so of the others, always measuring the distance be-
tween two meridians, or the angle which they make with
each other, by the arch of the equator intercepted between
them. If the second from W be taken to represent the
meridian of London, the primitive WNES will embrace
the whole of the eastern continent, or old world, except a
small part of the north-east point of Asia, without includ-
ing any part of America, and the other meridians will be
reckoned both ways, towards the east and west. In the
present case, however, as our object is not to exhibit an
actual map of the earth's surface, but only the imaginary
lines with which it is supposed to be intersected, we shall
assume NjES as the first meridian, by which means our
references to the Figure will be more obvious and distinct.

Before proceeding to the projection of the parallels of
latitude, it may be proper to notice another method, be-
sides that already explained, of describing meridians, viz.
by determining the points in which these circles must inter-
sect the equator WE (Fig. 4 ). This is done by setting off
from jE towards W and E, M 10, jE 20, JK 30, &c. equal
to the semilangents of these arches respectively. Then
three points being given, viz. N, S, and 10, 20, or 30, in

the equator WE, a fourth may be found, which shall be the
centre of a circle passing through the other three. To
determine this fourth point or centre, draw lines from N
and S to the point in the equator through which the meri-
dian is to pass, bisect these lines, and erect perpendiculars
at the points of bisection ; these perpendiculars will meet
WE in the point required. See Geometry, Sect. II.
Phob. XL

Though both these methods of describing meridians im-
ply the use of lines or tangents, or semitaiigents, yet the
projection maybe performed without the assistance of these
lines. (Plate CCLXVI. Fig. 3.) Thus, in the first method,
divide the quadrants WN and ES, Fig. 3. into degrees, and
from S, through every tenth degree of each, draw straight
lines intersecting WE on both sides of M ; then the parts
of WE contained between every two corresponding points
of intersection will be the projected diameters of the me-
ridians, whose distance from the first meridian is equal to
the distance of the points in the quadrants from the poles.
Thus the straight line drawn from S to 10 in the quadrant
WN will intersect vEW in m, and the line joining S and
10 in the quadrant ES will intersect jEE produced in e,
wherefore m c is the projected diameter of the meridian,
80° distant from NjES. If then m e be bisected, the point
of bisection will be the centre, and half the line bisected
will be the radius of the meridian N m S. In the same
manner may be described the other meridians on either side
of N^S.

In the second method, where it is required to find the
points of the equator through which any given meridian is
to pass, draw a straight line from S, Fig. 4. to the point of
the quadrant WN, or EN, whose distance from N is equal
to the distance of the given meridian from the first meridi-
an, and it will intersect jEW or iEE in the point required.
Thus the line joining S and 10 in the quadrant WN will
intersect jEW in 80, the point through which the meridian
must pass, whose distance from the first meridian is 80°.
This point being determined, the centre may be found as
before.

In projecting maps on a large scale, it becomes extreme-
ly difficult to determine the centres, and still more so to
describe, with accuracy, the arches of meridians at small
distances from the first meridian. To remedy this incon-
venience, an instrument has been invented of a very simple
construction, by which these arches may readily be describ-
ed, the extremities and one intermediate point being given.*
When this intermediate point is determined, as in the pre-
ceding paragraph, and the circle described by means of the
instrument now mentioned, the operation is perhaps as
much simplified as the nature of the subject will admit of.

To describe the parallels of latitude in this projection,
set off from .,E (Fig. 3.) on yEN produced, the secants of
the co-latitudes of the parallels, and from these points as
centres, with radii equal to the distances between them and
the points in the quadrants WN, EN, denoting the lati-
tudes, describe arches, and they will be the parallels re-
quired. Thus the secant of 3u° set off from jE to/, on
jEN, produced, will be the centre of the parallel of 60°
north latitude, and the distance between that point and 60
in the quadrant WN, or EN will be the radius of the pa-
rallel.

The centre of any given parallel, as 60, may also be de-
termined thus: I'rom E, draw stiaight lines through 60 in

* This instrument consists of two rulers AB, CB (Fig'. 12. Plate CCLXV.) fastened tog'ether by a joint B, so as to form any required angle
ABC, a pen or pencil being fixed in tlie angular point B. In using the instniment, this pen is placed on the intermediate point of the arch to
be described, and pins being fixed, or weights laid at the extremities of the arch, the limbs AB, CB are extended so as to touch these pins or
weights. In this state the whole instrument is moved round, the two sides being always pressed against the pins or weights, and the point
at B describes the arch required. The principle of the instnmient depends on the property of the circle, that all angles in the same segment
are equal to one another. See Geometbt, Sect. II. Prop. XVH, and Diuwise Isstruments.

624

GEOGRAPHY.

each of Uie quadi-ants EN,WN, intersccling JEN, and MN
produced, in llic points 5- and /;, then the pait of jI^N con-
tained between these points will be the projected diameter
of the parallel of 60. If, thcvefoic, this line be bisected,
the point of bisection will be/, the centre ; and half the line
bisected will be the radius of the parallel.

If the semi-tans^ents of 10", 20°, 30'^, &c. 1)C set off from
A^ towards N, they will give_^the points in which the paral-
lels of 10°, 20°, 30°, must intersect ylCN". Thus the semi-
tangent of 60° set ofl'iVoiii A', inwards N, gives the pointy-.
In every parallel, there will thus be given three points, viz.
the extremities in the tjuadrants WN and liN, and an in-
termediate point in iEN ; and conse(|uently the parallel
may be described either by finding its centre, or applying .
the instrument formerly mentioned, in the projection of me-
ridians. The intermediate points in -E.N may also be found
■without a line of semitangents, as in the last paragraph,
viz. by drawing lines from E to every tenth degree of WN.
In the same manner may be described the parallels on the
ether side of the equator.

3. The Horizontal. Though this projection is not so fre-
quently used as the preceding in constructing a map of the
world, it is more convenient, as we shall afterwards shew,
for some particular purposes, and is therefore not to be
omitted in a system of mathematical geography. The pro-
jection of the ecjuator, meridians, and parallels of latitude
on the horizon of any given place, as Edinburgh, Lat. 56°
N. is as follows.

From C (Plate CCLXVI. Fig. 5.) with 60 from the line
of chords, describe the circle WNES from the primitive
horizon of the place C, and draw NCS, VVCE at right an-
gles to each other, the former representing the meridian of
the place, and the other a great circle 90° distant from it,
and which, on the celestial sphere, is called the Prime ver-
tical. From C set off on CN, the semitangent CP of the
co-latitude, in this case 34°, and P will be the projection of
the north pole. From the same point set off on CN and
CS, CJE, equal to the tangent of the co-latitude (34°), and
CQ equal to the semitangent of the latitude (56°) ; then a
circle described from jE as a centre with the radius jEQ
vill pass through W, E, and represent the equator. To
project the meridians, set off from C on CS, or CS pro-
duced, CA equal to the tangent "of the latitude (56°), and
through A draw BD at right angles to CA. From P, with
60 from the line of chords, describe the quadrant, v la, and
from V set off on this arch the chords of 10, 20, 30, Sec;
then a ruler laid between P and each of these divisionsvwill
intersect AD in a, b, c, d, kc. the centres of the meridians
between S and W. Thus AP will be the radius of the me-
ridian WPE, 90° distant from the first meridian NPS ; a P
•will be the radius of 80 P lon, the meridian 10° distant
from the last, or 80° from the iirst meridian, and so of the
otlicrs. In the same manner may be described the meridi-
ans on the other side of NS from centres in the line AB.
In determining the centres of the meridian, it is convenient
to describe the quadrant -y w with 60 from the line of chords,
because the chords of 10, 20, 30, &c. may be set off from
the same line, without the Irouble of dividing the quadrant.
It is not necessary, however, nor indeed is it always proper,
to take that particular radius, as any other will answer the
same puq:iose; and the greater it is, the more accurately
will the points in BD be determined, particularly such as
are at a great distance from A.

In the preceding method, the points P, Q. IL, A, are de-
termined by the lines of tangents and semitangents ; but
they may also be found without the help of these lines thus:
Having described WNES, and drawn NS, WE as before,
set oft' from N towards E, the arch NP' equal to the lati-
tude of the place (56°), and join P'W: the line P'W will

intersect CN in P, the projection of the north pole. From
P' draw the diameter P'C //, and at right angles to this di-
ameter draw another «' C g. From W, through the ex-
tremities of this diameter, draw W (j and W a. intersecting
CS in Q and CN produced in le, and bisect cs Q ; the point
of bisection will be JS. tlie centre, and half the line bisected
will be yEQ the radius of the equator WQE. To find the
centres of the meiidians, join W /<', and produce the lh)c
till it meet CS produced in ft ; bisect P fi, and the point of
bisection will be A the centre ; and half the line bisected
will be AP, the radius of the meridian WPE at right an-
gles to the first meridian NPS. The centres of the other
meridians are found as before in BD, drawn through A, at
right angles to AN.

In this, as in the equatorial projection, it becomes diffi-
cult to describe tlie meridians that make small angles with
the first meridian, their centres being at a great distance
from the point A. Tliis inconvenience, however, will be
in a great measure remedied by the following construc-
tion.

From C (Plate CCLXVI. Fig. 6.) describe WNES,
find jE, P, Q and A, and draw P'/'' and BD, all as in Fig.
5. From A draw A/perpendicular to P' fi', and on AC set
off A^, equal to Ay. From g as a centre, with any radius
as g-A, describe a (juadrant AG, and divide it into degrees
from A towards G. Through ff, and every tenth degree of
AG, draw straight lines intersecting AD in c, 6, c, d, 8cc.
and from these points draw straight lines through C : these
lines will intersect the primitive in the points through
which the corresponding meridian is to pass. Now, as
every meridian must pass through P, there will be given
three points in each, viz. 10, P, 170 in the meridian 10°
from NS, 20, P, 160 in the next, and so on ; the circle may
therefore be desciibed by the instrument formerly men-
tioned in the equatorial projection. In this construction,
the point in AD, next to A, gives the intersections of the
meridian nearest to NS, and in the method explained in last
paragraph the point next to A is the centre of the meridi-
an farthest from NS. By a combination of the two methods,
therefore, all the meridians may be determined by means
of points at a moderate distance from A.

To project the parallels of latitude, set off" from C. (Fig.
5.) on NS, the semitangents of the greatest and least dis-
tances of the parallel from C, and bisect the part of NS
contained between these points; the point of bisection will
be the centre, and half the line bisected will be the radius
of the parallel. Thus let it be required first to project a
parallel to the north of the given place, as of 70° north la-
titude. Since the parallel extends 20° on each side of the
pole P, and C is 34" distant from P, the nearest point of
the parallel to C is between C and P 34° — 20° = 14° from
the former, and the opposite or most distant 34° +20° ^5 4°.
From C, thereicre, set off towards N the semitangents of
1 4° and 51° to r and s, and bisect r s ; then the middle point
of r s will be the centre, and half the line will be the ra-
dius of ths parallel required. Secondly, let the parallel
to be projected be the 56th, or that whose distance from
lliC pole is equal to the co-latitude of the place. In this
case it is obvious, that the circle must pass through C on
the one side, and on the opposite it will cut CN in ,E, at
the distance of the semitangent of 34° -J- 34°= 68". The
distance therefore between C and that point bemg bisected,
it will give the centre of the parallel. Lastly, let the pa-
rallel be to the south of the given place, as, for example,
that of 30°. Heie the distance of the cii-ele from P is
greater than PC by 60" — 34°=26°, or its nearest distance
from C is 25° towards S, while its greatest distance is 60°
-j.34°=94°. From C, therefore, set off towards S the 'se-
mitangent of 26° Cy; and from C towards N the semitan-

GEOGRAPHY.

625

s^ent of 94° C^", and bisect the distance between these points
as before.

Parallels of latitude inay also be projected, without the
line of scmilant;cnts, thus: Divide the priniitivo into de-
grees from V" (I'ig. 6) in boUi directions, and through the
degree denoting the co-iatitudc of the parallel to be pro-
jected, draw lines to W, inlerscctinij NS or NS produced
in two points. Bisect the portion of NS contiiincd btiwecn
these intersections, and the circle dcbcribcd from the [loiut
of bisection, with a radius equal to' lialf the line bisected,
will be the parallel required. Thus, if straight lines be
drawn from the 20th degree on each side of P' to W, the
intersection of these lines with NS, will give the points r
and *, as in Fig. 5.

IV. By Globular Projection.

Though we have classed this method of projection under
a separate head, it is, strictly speaking, to be considered
as a modification of the stereographic. (Plate CCLXVI.
Fig. 7.) As originally proposed by its inventor De Laliire,
it is not indeed very frequently employed, but it has given
rise to a mechanical method, which, from the facility of
construction, is likely to become more and more common
in projecting maps of the world, on the plane of a meridiai^
According to Lahire's method, the projecting point, as
was formerly observed, is distant from the surface of the
sphere, the sine of 45°, that is, if the diameter or meridian
NS (Fig. 7.) be equal to 200, the distance NP of the pro-
jecting point P is equal to 70. Having determined P, di-
vide SW, SE into degrees, and from P draw straight lines
to every tenth division, intersecting MW and jEE. Through
these points of intersection, and the two poles N, S, de-
scribe ellipses, and they will be projections of meridians.
By this constiuction, it is found, that the straight line from
P to 45 in the quadrant SW or SE divides the radius jEVV
or jEE into two equal parts; but to render the other divi-
sion of these radii nearly equal, the projecting point P
must be only at the distance of 59^ from N, NS being equal
to 200. This equality, however, may be obtained me-
chanically thus, without regard to the position of the pro-
jecting point.

From C, (Fig. 8.) with 60 from the line of chords, de-
scribe the primitive WNES representing a meridian, and
draw the diameters NS, V/E at right angles toone another,
the former representing a meridian at right angles to the
primitive, and the latter the equator. From W and E set
ofl' in both directions towards N and S, the chords of 10°,
20°, 30°, &c. and divide each of the semidiameters CN, CE,
CS, C W, into nine equal parts, in the points 10, 20, 30, Sec.
then circles passing through the poles, N, S, and the divi-
sions of the semidiameters CW, CE, will be meridians 10°
distant from each other, and circles passing through the
divisions of the quadrants WN, EN, and the semidiameter
CN, or through the divisions of WS, ES, and the semidi-
ameter CS, will be parallels, the former of north and the
latter of south latitude, 10° distant from one another.
These circles may be described, either by finding the cen-
tres, which will always be in the diameters WE, NS, or in
these diameters produced, and which may be determined
from the three given points in the circumference ; or if the
centres be at a great distance from C, by employing the in-
strument formerly mentioned in the stereographic projec-
tion. Upon this principle is constructed the planisphere,
Plate CCLXVIII.

Having thus briefly explained the various methods usu-
ally employed by geographers, for delineating on a plane
the imaginary lines with which they suppose the surface
of the earth to be intersected, we might go on to apply the
same principles to the projection of the celestial sphere, or
jhe construction of a map of the heavens. As this, how-

VoL. IX. Part II.

ever, does not properly apply to geography, we shall pro-
ceed to take a short view of the comparative defects and
merits ol the jjrojections nov/ explained, as applicable to
tlie construction of terrestrial maps.

As '.he prircipal object of a planisphere, or rnap of the
world, is to determine the longitude and latitude of particu-
lar placer,, with their distances and bearings from each
othei', and to exhiint a view of the figure, extent, and rela-
tive positions of Ibe different countries, that projection is
to be prtlerred, which determines all these particulars most
acc'sratcly, and with the greatest facility. In none of the
preceding methods, however, nor 'indeed in any other me-
thod, are all these properties united. In the gnomonic po-
lar projection, as we formerly observed, the position of any
place to be projected, and consequently the situation of a
place after it has been projected, is easily determined, by
applying a line of tangents to the centre, and making its
graduated edge fall on the degree of the primitive denoting
the longitude. The distance between two places that arc
in the same meridian, or under the same parallel of lati-
tude, may also be easily and accurately determined from
this projection. In the former case, lay the extremity of
the line of tangents on the centre, and make its gradu^.ted
edge pass through the two places, then the difference of the
numbers on the scale between the two places, will shew
their difference of latitude in degrees, or the arch of a great
circle intercepted between them, from which their distance
in miles may be easily ascertained. In the second case,
when the places are under the same parallel of latitude, by
laying the ruler successively over each, and referring to the
divisions in the primitive, the arch or the parallel of lati-
tude intercepted between them will be determined, and the
latitude being known, the length of that arch may be found
in miles by means of the Table, at page 612. Of the latter,
indeed, it is to be observed, that the rule holds only in the
case of short distances, when the arch of a parallel of lati-
tude intercepted between two points does not sensibly dif-
fer from an arch of a great circle intercepted between the
same points. With these advantages, however, tlie pro-
jection is in other respects very defective. The distance
between two places, not under the same meridian or paral-
lel of latitude, can only be found by an operation far too te-
dious and complicated for ordinary use, while countries at a
distance from the pole are very much extended beyond
their true figure and dimensions.

In the orthographic polar projection, the advantages and
disadvantages are nearly the same as in the gnomonic. The
situation of places, and their distance from each other, when
under the same meridian or parallel of latitude, are found
by means of a line of sines instead of tangents; but the fi-
gure and dimensions of countries at a distance from the
pole, are as much contracted below the truth, as in the for-
mer case they were extended beyond it. In the equatorial
projection, it is more difficult than in the preceding me-
thods to determine the longitude of any given point, the cir-
cles ol longitude or meridians being ellipses. To the young
geographer, however, this method will be found extremely
useful, as calculated to convey a very distinct idea of the
earth's sphericity.

The stereographic polar projection affords the same fa-
cility of finding the positions of places, by means of a line
of semitangents, that the gnomonic and orthographic polar
projections do, by means of tangents and sines. By the for-
mer may also be readily found the distance between places
under the same meridian, or if they are not far from each
other, under the same parallel of latitude, and it possesses
the additional advantage of representing the different coun-
tries more nearly, according to their true figure and dimen-
sions. In other respects, it does not materially dilTcr from
the other polar projections.

4 K

626

GEOGRAPHY.

In the stercop,rapiiic projection on the plane of a meri-
dian, the princi])al advantages, compared with the corre-
sponding orlhogr;iphic projection, arc the simplicity of its
conslriiclion, and greater accuracy of its representations.
In neither, however, is it easy to find the distance between
places not under the same meridian ; nor is it possible to
exhibit exactly the different portions of the globe accord-
ing to their true figure and dimensions. In the orthogra-
phic, the countries at a distance from the centre of the map
are very much contracted, and in the stercographic they
are considerably, though not in the same proportion, ex-
panded. The convenience formerly mentioned regarding
the division of the globe into the eastern and western hemi-
spheres, is common to both; and, indeed, to all projections
in which the primitive coincides with the plane of a me-
ridian.

The principal recommendation of the stercographic pro-
jection on the plane of the horizon, is the facility it affords of
solving a ploblem which, in all the preceding methods, can
only be effected by an operation too abstruse for the pur-
poses of practical geography. The problem alluded to is,
to find the distance between any two places on the surface
of the globe, whatever may be their positions relatively to
one another. Thus, if it were required to find the distance
tetwecn Edinburgh and any other place, project the sphere
on the horizon of Edinburgh, and construct a line of semi-
tangents to the radius of the projection; then laying the
extremity of the scale on the centre of the map, with its
graduated edge on the given place, the number of the scale
over the place will be the distance required in degrees of
a great circle. If the place does not lie within the primi-
tive, that is, if it be more than 90° distant from Edinburgh,
the map may be extended beyond the primitive so far as to
include it ; or, what is perhaps better, the opposite hemi-
sphere may be projected, and the distance of the place from
the centre of this hemisphere subtracted from 180, will
give the distance required. By this projection may also be
found the angle of position which any given place makes
Avith the place in the centre, thus : Divide the piimitive or
horizon into degrees from the north and south points to-
wards the east and west ; then applying the scale as before,
its graduated edge will cut the horizon in the angle re-
quired. But though the solution of these problems may in
some cases be very desirable, the horizontal projection is,
upon the whole, very inconvenient for a map of the world,
particularly from the difficulty of determining, on such a
map, the longitude and latitude of places which do not hap-
pen to lie under any of the meridians or parallels of lati-
tude. This defect, indeed, is common to it with the equa-
torial projections, and it may be observed of them all in
general, that as it is impossible to combine in one the whole,
or even the principal properties of each, we must be satis-
fied with gaining one advantage by the sacrifice of another.
For ordinary purposes, the globular projection is, after all,
perhaps the best in constructing a map of the world. Sim-
plicity of construction, tolerable accuracy in the represen-
tation of different countries, and facility in finding the lon-
gitude and latitude of any given place, are the characteris-
tic properties of this projection ; and, to the majority of
those who have most occasion to consult such maps, these
properties are by far the most important.

Sect. III. Construction of Mafis by Dcvelojiement.

In- the various methods of projecting the sphere, as ex-
plained in the preceding Section, the reader cannot fail to
observe, that, besides the inaccurate representation of dif-
ferent portions of the earth's surface, common in some
measure to thern all, they are also attended in practice with
considerable difficulty and inconvenience. This difficulty
increases with the scale of the projection; and, in the deli-

neation of small portions of the earth's surface, it becomes
so great as almost to prevent the application of any of thcin
to the construction of such maps. To remedy this defect,
geographers have had recourse to the method oUUvclofie.
ment, or that which supposes the earth's surface to be
spread out on a plane. But as a sphere or spheroid, is a
body that does not admit of its surface being so extended,
it must be supposed to be converted into some other body,
as much as possible resembling the sphere, and whose sur-
face is at the same time susceptible of such a develope-
ment. The only bodies of this kind with which the sphere
can be at all compared, are the cone and cylinder ; and ac-
cordingly, both have been employed for this purpose.

I. 0/ the Cone.

The principle of this developement, or projection as it
is sometimes called, mav be shortly explained thus. Let
WNES (Plate CCLXV'l. Fig. 9.) be the sphere of which
it is proposed to develope any portion, as the fourth part
WNE, WE the equator, SN the meridian at right angles
to WNES, and ML the radius of the middle parallel, or
that which divides the part to be developed into two equal
parts in the direction of latitude, in this case 45". Draw
MA and M'A at right angles to the radii CM and CM', and
meeting SN produced in A ; that is, make MA and M'A
the cotangents of the latitude of the middle parallel ; then
AM and AM' will be the sides of a cone, tangent to the
sphere at M and M', and of which any zone, extending to
a moderate distance on each side of MM' may, without any
sensible error, be considered as equal to the corresponding
zone of the sphere. From A with the radius AM describe
the arch M?nM'; then, if the radius CN and the arch
M m M' be both divided into equal parts, arches described
from A through the former will be the projected parallels
of latitude, and straight lines drawn from the same point
through the latter will represent meridians, both at greater
or less distances from one another, according to the num-
ber of divisions. The arch M m M' will be the parallel
of 45°.

By this projection may be obtained a tolerably accurate
representation of a small portion of the globe ; but when it
is extended to a considerable space, as the fourth part of the
whole sphere, the countries towards the pole and the equa-
tor are extended a great deal beyond their true limits, in
the direction of their latitude. Various methods of reme-
dying this defect have been adopted or recommended by
different geographers ; but the simplest, as well as the most
successful, is tliat known by the name oi Flamstead's firo-
jection. It was so denominated at first from its inventor,
and it still retains the name, though since his time it has
undergone various alterations. In its most improved form,
the construction is as follows.

Draw an indefinite straight line NS (Fig. 10.) to repre-
sent the middle meridian of the map, and from the point M,
near the middle of the line, set off on both sides towards N
and S equal distances of any convenient length, to repre-
sent degrees of latitude. Suppose, for example, that the
map is to contain 60 degrees of latitude, viz. from the 20th
to the 80th parallel, and that this extent is to be equal to 3
inches ; then each degree will be equal to ^'^ or .05 in. ; the
point .M will be in the parallel of 50°, and the distance of J-
or .5 in. set off towards N and S will give the points througli
which the parallels of 40°, 30°, and 20°, must pass on the
one side, and those of 60°, 70°, and 80°, on the other. The
centre C of these parallels will be in the line NS towards
N, and may be found thus.

Let d be the length of the assumed degree of latitude,
/ the latitude of the middle parallel, or Ms and
d' the length of an arch of 1° to radius 1 ; then

cot. Ix d

d' : cotan. l::d: MC=-

GEOGH.VPIIY.

627

3 14159
Now, Iq this example, (/=.05 w., /=50°,and cl'=-^- —

=.01745329 ; therefore,

,,_ .05X cotan. 50. ,
MC== inches.

.01743329

The compi'tation is performed most conveniently by lo-
garithms, thus :

Log. .05 T698970

Log. cot. 50" to Rad. I . . . T923813

^622783

Log. .01745329 2.241876

Log. MC 0.38U907

and MC = 2.4038 inches.
From M, therefore, set off" towards N, MC=2.4 in. and
from C as a centre through each of the divisions in NS, de-
scribe arches for tlie parallels of latitude.

To find the meridians, take any parallel, as the middle
one passing through M, and from the table of degrees of
longitude, p. 612, take the length corresponding to the la-
titude of the parallel, multiply it by the length of the as-
sumed degree, and that product again by the number of
degrees to which the map is to extend on each side of the
iniddle meridian ; the last product will express the distance
from M at which the extreme meridian will intersect the
middle parallel. Thus, in the present example, let the
map extend 40° on each side of NS ; that is, let it include
80° of longitude, and the calculation becomes —

Degree of longitude in lat. 50 64279

Length of the assumed degree in inches .05

.0321395
Half longitude of the map .... 40

1.2855800

From M, therefore, set ofT on the middle parallel both
ways, 1.285 in. and it will give the limits of the map on that
parallel. Corresponding points being determined, in the
same way, on each of the other parallels, the curves pass-
ing through these points will be the meridians bounding
the map on the east and west. To find the other meridians,
divide the arch of each parallel between the middle and ex-
treme meridians, into as many equal parts as the number
of meridians wanted on each side of NS, and curves drawn
through the corresponding points will be the meridians re-
quired. In the above example, each of the arches being
divided into four equal parts, will give a meridian for every
tenth degree. If the parallels are at such a distance from
one another as to render it difficult to describe the meridian
curves with sufficient accuracy, intermediate parallels may
be described with a pencil point, and afterwards erased.

It maybe proper to observe, that the preceding method,
of determining the limits of the map on each parallel, gives
the extent somewhat too great, the chord of the arch Mm,
instead of the arch itself, being assumed equal to 1.285 in.
In ordinary cases, indeed, this diPTerencc is too small to af-
fect the accuracy of the map, and therefore an expeditious
and convenient method of construction is not to be aban-
doned, on account of an error which is scarcely, if at all,
sensible. The truth of this remark will be obvious from
-the following method of detei mining the arch of the middle
parallel, by which the length of the chord is obtained with
perfect accuracy.

As the arch of the middle parallel of latitude M?n, (Fig.
9.) is terminated on the sphere, and in the projection by
the same points, but has for a radius, in the former case
the cosine, and in the latter the cotangent of the latitude,
the numl)er of degrees which the arch contains in the pro-
jection, will be less than the number which it contained on
•he globe, or which it represents in the projection, in th.e

same proportion as the cosine of the latitude is less than the
cotangent. Hence, if a denote the amplitude of the arch of
the middle parallel I on the sphere, or tiie number of de-
grees to be represented between the middle and extreme
meridian of the map, and a' the amplitude of thesani'- arch
in the projection, as described from the centre of the paral-
lel, or the angle which a straight line, drawn from the ex-
tremity of the parallel to the centre, makes with the mid-
dle meridian, we have

, cos. I

cotan. C : cos. l : : a : a'=ax .

cot. I

„, ^ COS. I . , ^ ,. , sin. I ,.

But ■= sui. I to radius 1 = to radius r : there-
cot. I r '

foren'= ^, and by logarithms,

log. a' = log. a ■\. log. sin. I — log. r.
Let now half the longitude of the map be as above 40"',
and let it be required to find the extremity of the middle
parallel Mm, (Fig. 10.)

In this case a = 40 and I z=z 50°, therefore

log. d = log. 40 -J- log. sin. 50°^ log. r.

Log. 40 1.602060

Log. sin. 50° ..... 9.884254

Log. r
Log. o'

11.486314
10.000000

1. ■1863 14

d . . . 30°.641 = 30° 38'27"

therefore a straight line drawn from C, and making an an-
gle with MC=30° 38' 27", will intersect Mm in tire point
through which the meridian must pass, whose distance
from NS=40°. By a similar, though a more tedious cal-
culation, the amplitudes of the other parallels may be de-
termined: but, without entering upon these calculations,
we shall proceed to find what is the real difPeience be-
tween the two methods in point of accuracy. In the case
of the mi<ldle parallel, it has been shewn, that the angle
MCm=30° 38' 27", and joining ?nM, we have in the iso-
sceles triangle CMm an angle C, and a side mC. If the
triangle therefore be resolved, the base mM, or the chord
of the arch mM, will be found to be 1.27 in. which gives
for the excess of the former method .015 in. : an error
which in almost all cases may be safely overlooked.

The characteristic property of this projection is, that all
the quadrilaterals formed by meridians and parallels of
latitude have nearly the same ratio to one another on the
map, that the corresponding quadrilaterals have to each
other on the sphere. It is also a consequence of this pro-
perty, that distances on the map may be readily and cor-
rectly measured by a scale of equal parts. This scale may
be constructed as follows.

From any point A(Plate CCLX VI. Fig. 1 1 .), draw a straight
line AB, equal to any number of the assumed degrees of lati-
tude, as for example 60, and from the same point draw an
indefinite straight line AC, making any angle with AB.
Then, suppose the scale is to be divided so as to represent
English miles, the whole will contain 69.045X60=4142.7,
or nearly 4140. Froni any scale of equal parts, set off
from A towards C 4 divisions, and .14 of another division,
and let them terminate at D. Join DB, and through the
divisions of AD draw straight lines parallel to DB, and in-
tersecting AB in the points 1,2, 3, 4 ; each of these di-
visions will represent 1000 English miles, except the last,
which will be 140, and the distance between two places
on tlie map applied to this scale will give their distance in
miles.

II. Of the Cylinder.
The principle of this developement may be explained in
4 K 2

628

GEOGllAniY.

a manner analogous to that of the cone. Let WNC, (Fiij.
1. Plato CCLXVII.) be the eighth part of a sphere, a por-
tion of which it is proposed to develope, and let Mm be
the radius of the middle parallel of tlial portion. Then if a
cylinder ABCN, equal in diameter to the radius of the
middle parallel, be partly inscribed in the sphere, and part-
ly circumscribed about it, a zone of the cylinder to a short
distance, on each side of Mtn, may be considered as very
nearly coincidinj^ with the corresponding zone of the
sphere. If the former, therefore, be developed or spread
out, the parallels of latifude will be straight lines parallel
and equal to Mm, and the'meridians will also be straight
lines, cutting the parallels of latitude at right angles ; that
is, they will be parallel to one another, and equal in length
to the breadth of the zone. Upon this principle is construct-
ed the Plane Chart, as follows.

Suppose the chart is required to extend from 40° to 60°
north latitude, and from 10° west to 10° east longitude ; that
is, to contain 20° of latitude and 20° of longitude. Describe
a parallelogram ABCD, (Fig. 2,) making BC of any con-
venient length, and AB : BC : : cos. of the middle latitude
(50°): radius. Divide AB and BC each into four equal
parts, and straight lines drawn through these points paral-
lel to BC and AB, will be meridians and parallels of lati-
tude five degrees distant from one another. If necessary,
intermediate parallels and meridians may be drawn in the
same way.

It is obvious, from inspecting Fig. l,lhat a chart con-
structed on this principle may, for a few degrees on each
side of the ecjuator, be tolerably correct ; but that the in-
accuracy increases with the distance from the equator, and
in high latitudes becomes excessive. To obviate this in-
convenience, another method of developement has been in-
vented, known by the name oi Mercator's /irojeclion. In this
method, as in the former, meridians and parallels of latitude
are straight lines cutting one another at right angles, the de-
grees of longitude being of course the same in all latitudes;
but in order that the degrees of latitude and longitude may
preserve their true proportions to one another, the former
are made to increase on the map, in the same ratio that the
latter diminish on the sphere. The distances from the
equator, or from one another-, at whicli the parallels of la-
titude ought to be drawn, according to this principle, can
only be determined accurately by the application of the
fluxional calculus : (see Fluxions, vol. ix. p. 463); but an
approximation to these distances may be found as follows :

Let PE (Fig. 3. Plate CCLXVIII.) represent the qua-
drant of a meridian, CE the equator, and DE any arch of
PE; then DG will be the sine, CG or DH the cosine, EF
the tangent, and CF the secant of the arch DE. Now by
similar triangles (see Geometry) CG : CD : : CE : CF, or
taking I for the latitude of D. cos./: rad. :: rad. : sec. /.
But since circles, or arches of circles, are to one another as
their radii, rad : cos. / : : an arch of the equator : a corres-
ponding arch of the pareliel /; or supposing the earth to
be a sphere, rad. : cos./ : : an i-rch of the meridian : a cor-
responding arch of the parallel /. Hence if </ represent the
length of a degree of the meridian, and rf' the length of a
degree of the parallel / on th-; globe,

sec. / : rad. ■.: d : d'.
But on the map, the natural degree of the meridian rf, must
be increased in the same ratio as d' is diminished on the
sphere ; that is, taking a' to denote the lengthened degree
of the meridian. .»

1 , J tv rfxsec. /

rad. : sec. I : -.d: <?= ; .

rad.

When (/ and rad. are both = 1, the formula becomes S'=

sec. /; that is, when the natural degree of the me.'idian

and radius are both assumed =1, the length of any degree

of latitude will be expressed by the secant of that lati-

tude. But no degree of the meridian, nor indeed any arch
of a definite length, can have all the same latitude /, and
therefore in the equation ^=:sec /^is to be under.'»tood as
the projection of an indefinitely small arch d, assumed equal
to unity. Now any arch of the meridian DE, ib made up of
an indefinite number of such arches, and therefore the pro-
jection of DE, or the distance of the parallel / from the
equator, is equal to the sum of the secants of an indefinite
number of arches, each of which is assumed equal to unity.
This distance, as was formerly observed, can only be found
accurately by fluxions, but an approximation is obtained
by dividing DE into a number of small arches, each being
reckoned unity, and finding the sum of their secants. The
greater the number of parts, the greater also will be the
accuracy of the approximation. This piinciple was first
explained, and applied to the construction of charts, by Mr
Wright, in 1599, who determined the distance of each pa-
rallel to 1 minute of the quadrant, by finding the sum of
the secants, of all the arches of 1 minute, fron) the equator
to that parallel. These distances he arranged in a table
which is denominated a table oi meridional /larts, and which
is still employed in constructing charts, as in the following
examples.

1. Let it be required to construct a chart of the world,
according to Mercator's projection.

Through the point C (Fig, 4) intended to be the centre
of the map, draw two indefinite straight lines WE, NS, at
right angles to one another, the former representing the
equator, and the latter the first meiidian. From C, by means
of any convenient scale of equal parts, set off towards W
and E, 18 equal parts, each representing 10 degrees of
longitude. Find then, in the Table, the meridional parts,
corresponding to 10°, 20°, 30°, Sec. divide each by 60, and
taking the quotients from tl-.e same scale of equal parts, set
them from C towards N and S ; then straight lines diawn
through the divisions of WE parallel to NS will be meri-
dians, and straight lines through the divisions of NS paral-
lel to WE will be parallelsof latitude, 10° distxint from one
another. Upon this principle is constructed the chart of
the world, Plate CCLXIX.

2. Let it be required to represent only a portion of the
earth's surface, as for example, froin 0° to 50° V/. longi-
tude, and from 30° to 60° N. Latitude.

Draw AB (Fig. 5.) to represent the parallel of 30°, and
from the extremity, erect the perpendicular BC for the
first meridian. From B, by means of any convenient scale
of equal parts, set off five divisions, towards A, and from
these points erect perpendiculars for the other meridians,
10° distant from each other. Take then from the Table
the meridional parts corresponding to 40°, 50°, and 60°, sub-
tract from each the meridional prirts corresponding to 30°,
the lowest parallel of the chart, and divide tlie remainders
by 60° ; the quotients taken from the same scale of equal
parts, and set from B to C, will give the distances of the re-
spective parallels. Thus, to find the distance of the parallel
of 40° :

Meridional parts of 40° .... 2622.7
Meridional parts of 30° .... 1888.4

734..

and

734 3
60"

- = 12, 24 parts of the scale from which the divi-
sions of AB were taken.

To facilitate the construction of charts according to this
projection, the fiat rulers, commonly called Gunter's scales,
are provided with two lines adjacent and parallel to one
another marked Rler. and E: P, the first being meridional
paits, previously divided by 60, so as to reduce them to de-
grees, and the second a scale of equal parts, or degrees of
longitude, corresponding to the latitudes on the other.

GEOGRAPHY.

629

Hence, if the longitude of a chart I)c taken from the line
E : P, the distance of any parallel IVoni the c'luator is found
by ext»;nding the compasses from the extieniity of the line
Mer. to the number denolini^ the latitude, and applying
that distance from the commencement of the line E : V. In
like manner, to find the distance between any two parallels,
take the distance between the latitudes on ftler. and apply
it to E : P. Thus the distance between the parallels of
3u° and 40'' on Mer. will be equal to 12.24 on E : P, the
same as in the preceding example.

Such is the principle of the method, originally invented
by ^Vright, and still fre<iuently employed, in constructing
a chart, according to Mercator's projection. It was soon
discovered, however, and subsequently demonstrated by
Gregory and Halley, tlial the meridian line, divided accord-
ing to this principle, becomes a line of logarithmic cotan-
gents, to half the colalitudes of the different parallels, de-
ducting radius from each ; that is, C 20 (Fig. 4.) reckon-

90° — 20°
ing from C towards N, is the log. cot. -^ or 35°,

= log. tan. 55" ; C 40 = log. cot.

90°— 40°

or 25°, = log.

tan. 65", Sec. always deducting radius. Advantage has ac-
cordingly been taken of this principle, by adapting a line of
such tangents to the construction of charts. This line is to
be found on tlie common Gunter's scale, adjacent to the line
Mer. and marked Tan. Like the former, it commences on
the right hand, and is constructed on the following principle.
As radius is to be deducted from each tangent, before
transferring it to the scale, and as all tangents below 45°
are less than the radius, none less than that of 45° can be
exhibited on the line. Nor, indeed, is any less tangent ne-
cessary, as half the co-latitude never can be greater, or,
which is the same thing, the complement of half the co-
latitude never can be less than 45°. From the extremity
of the line, therefore, whicii is marked 45°, the logarithmic
tangents of all the arches greater than 45°, deducting ra-
dius, are set off towards the left hand, and numbered at
every tenth division, 50, 60, 70, Sec. But the logarithmic
tangent of any arch, as 50° 31 log. cot. 90 — 50° or 40" —

90° 10°

log. cot. ;- :3 log. cot. of half the co-latitude of 10°.

In like manner, tan. 55°~cot. 35°rzcot,

90° — 20°

-Zicot.

of half the co-latitude of 20°, and so of others. To facili-
tate, therefore, the application of the line, the divisions
marked 50, 60, 70, Sec. are also numbered 40, 30, 20, Sec.
by which means they exhibit at once the halt co-latitudes,
to which the tangents 50, 60, 70, Sec. arc co-tangents.
Hence the following sin)plo rule, for finding the pro-
jected distance of any parallel of latitude from the equa-
tor.

Extend the compasses from the extremity of the line
45, to the number denoting half the co-latitude of the pa-
rallel, and it will be the distance required. Thus, the dis-
tance of the parallel of 20° is found by extending the com-

90 20

passes from 45 to — - — ~ 35, and so of any other. Hence

also, to find the projected distance between any two paral-
lels, lake the distance between tlie numbers denoting half
the co-latitudes of each ; thus the distance between the pa-
rallels of 20° and 40° on the chart n: the distance between
35 arid 25 on, the seal?.

But though tlie dist'inces of the parallels, or the lengths
of ttic degrees of laiitudc, i're thus readily fmjnd, it is ob-
vious that the.se distsnces must correspond to some particu-
lar scale of longitudes. In order, therefore, to construct a
chart by the line dl tangents, it becomes nectssary to de-
termine the length of the deo;rec of lonsjitudc which cor-
responds to that line, and which may be found thus.

Take from the line Mer. any latitude whatever, as 37°
6', and applying that distance to the line E : P, mark the
corresponding length, which in this case will be 40 ; or
divide the number opposite to 37° 6' in the table of meri-
dional parts, which is 24C0, l)y 60, and n»ark tiic quotient,
viz. 40. From 45 on the lino Tan. extend the compasses
to half the co-latitude of 37° 6', the assumed latitude, whicli
is 26° 27' ; apply this distance to any scale of equal parts,
as of I inch, and divide the corresponding distance, whicli
in this case will be about 3.4 in. by 40, the number found
on E : P, or from the table corresponding to the assumed
latitude; the quotient, in the present instance .085, will be
the length of a degree of longitude, corresponding to the
above latitudes, in terms of the unit of the scale of equal
parts, viz. inches. Hence, if the distances of every tenth
parallel be taken from a line of tangents of the dimension
supposed above, every tenth meridian will be found by
setting off on the equator, or on any parallel of latitude,
divisions each equal to .85 i?:.

It follows, from the meridians in this projection being
parallel to one another, that the rhomb-lines, which on the
globe are spirals continually approaching the poles, arc re-
presented on the chart by straight lines; a property whicli
renders this construction of vast importance in navigation.
See Navig.vtiox.

The only other projection that we shall notice, as con-
nected with the subject of the present Section, is the con-
structioii of .Sfores, for covering globes, each of which may
be considered as a dcvelopement of a small portion of the
surface of the .spliere, extending longitudinally, in the di-
rection of the meridian. We formerly observed, in treat-
ing of the construction of globes, that in an indefinitely-
small portion of the sphere, jENQS (Plate CCLXV. Fig.
7.), jEQ and a c, portions of the equator and a parallel of
latitude, may be regarded as straight lines, perpendicular
to MN. In practice, however, the gore is not taken so
small as to warrant this assumption ; and therefore these
lines arc really portions of circles. The following method of
projecting gores, has been recommended by several emi-
nent artists, as well as astronomers.

Draw a straight line vEQ, equal to the breadth of the
intended gore at the equator, which is generally -fV of the
whole circumference, and bisect it by a perpendicular MN,
equal to i of the circumference. Divide MN into 9 equal
parts, and through each, from points in MN produced,
with radii equal to the co-tangents of their respective lati-
tudes, to rad. MN, describe arches for the parallels of eve-
ry 10th degiee. From each of the divisions in MN, and
with radii equal to the fractions opposite their respective
latitudes in the Table, p. 612, multiplied into the lengtli of
MjE, describe arches intersecting the parallels, on both
sides of .MN; then the curves N a jE, N c Q, drawn through
these divisions, will be tlie meridians distant I'lom one ano-
ther Jj of the circumference, or 30°, that is, the segment
of the gore jE a N c Q applied to the globe will cover J^ of
a hemisphere. The same operation repeated will give the
other gores, after which the different portions of the earth's
surface, or celestial sphere, are to bs delineated as on any
other maps. The globe, as was formerly observed, is ge-
nerally covered in this wny, from the equator to the paral-
lel of 70° or 80° ; but the space round the pole is projected
on or.e circular piece, whose radiu:> is equal to the sine of
its distance from ilie pole. It is hardly necessary to ob-
serve, th.at ncitiicr by this, nor any othf;r method, can gores
be constructed, so as accurately to cover any given portion
of ;■• sphere. It is even found that the dimensions of the
different pieces undergo a considerable alteration, in con-
sequence of their being moistened, for the purpose of be-
ing fixed on the globe. Tiie best method of correcting
these irregularities, is by enlarging or diminishing, as may
be necessary, the size of the globe itself.

630

GEOGRAniY.

Sect. IV. Construction of Maps refiyesenting small Por-
tions of the Earth's Surface, and the Method of filling
ufi the Outlines of Mafia in general.

Though the various methods of projection, explained in
the course of this article, arc sufficient for the construction
of any kind of maps, yet when it is required to represent
a small portion of the earth's surface, and to exhibit the
dilVeient parts nearly in their true proportions, the follow-
ing is perhaps the most convenient, as well as the most
accurate of any.

Suppose it is required to construct a map, extending
from 50° to 60° N. Latitude, and from 3° E. to 7° W.
Longitude.

Draw an indefinite straight line AB (Plate CCLXVIL
Fig. 6.) for the parallel of 50°, and from a point C, near the
middle of the map, erect a perpendicular for the middle
meridian, or that of 2° \V. longitude. From C set oft' to
D 10 equal parts, taken from a scale of any convenient
length, as inches, to denote degrees of latitude, and through
D draw EF parallel to AB, for the parallel of 60°. Take
from the Table, p. 612, the fraction corresponding to 50°,
which is .64279 or .643 nearly, and it will be the length in
parts of the same scale, in this case inches, to be set off
from C towards A, and from C towards B, for degrees of
longitude. In like manner, take the fraction opposite to
60° in the Table, which is .5, and it will give the length to
be set off from D to E and from D to F. Then lines drawn
through the divisions of CD, parallel to AB, will be pa-
rallels of latitude, and lines joining the corresponding divi-
sions in AB and EF will be meridians. A scale of miles
adapted to the map may be constructed, as formerly ex-
plained under Flamstead's projection.

Of the objects to be delineated on a map, or of the me-
thod of representing them, it will not be necessary to say
much, as such details must be familiar to all our readers.
The great natural division of the globe, is into lu7id and
•water. The subdivisions of the former are continents^ or
large tracts containing several kingdoms and states, as
Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, and island.'-,, or small-
er tracts, wholly surrounded by water, as Britain. A tract
of land, surrounded with water on all sides but one, what-
ever be its extent, is called a /leninsula, as Spain and Afri-
ca ; and the side by which it is united to other land, is call-
ed an isthmus, as the isthmus of Suez, which joins Africa
to Asia. A point of land running into the sea is called a
ca/ie, promontory, or head-land. The subdivisions of the
water are oceans, or those large collections which surround
the continents, and which are usually reckoned five, viz.
the Northern, Southern, Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian ; and
seas, or those branches of the ocean which intersect the
continents, as the Baltic and Mediterranean. When a nar-
row branch of the sea, or ocean, projects far into the land,
it is called a gulf, as the Arabian Gulf, and a bay, when its
entrance is wider, as the Bay of Biscay. The canal that
luiites a gulf with a sea or an ocean, is called a strait, as
the Straits of Babelmandel and Gibraltar. All these divi-
sions are traced out on the map, by a crooked or waving
line representing the coast, from which small parallel lines
are drawn towards the water, of about a tenth, or some-
times two tenths of an inch in length. These lines, while
they render the separation more distinct, have also the ef-
fect of making the sea appear to project from the surface
of the map. In charts, or maps chiefly intended for repre-
senting coasts, harbours, kc. the direction of the parallel
lines is reversed, which gives to the land the appearance
of projecting. The latter seems to be the most natural re-
presentation. In modern maps, the parallel lines are ge-
nerally drawn quite across the sea, from coast to coast, by
which the division of land and water is rendered still more
distinct. In repres'.ntiug mountains, geographers former-
ly employed vertical sections, as A (Fig. 7.) Ijut of late, the

bird's eye view is more frequently used. This consists in
small waving lines, as B, diverging from a point, the point
representing the summit, and the lines the declivity of the
mountain. Rivers are represented by waving lines, roads
by crooked lines, either single or double, and towns by small
circles, varying in magnitude, according to the size of the
towns themselves, and the scale of the map.

As the reduction of maps from one scale to another, is
frequently a problem of importance in practical geography,
we shall point out a method of making such a reduction,
which, if not extremely accurate, deserves to be noticed
for its simplicity.

Let ABCD (Fig. 8.) be a given map, and a b c d a simi-
lar figure of a reduced size, upon which it is required to
lay down points corresponding to E, F, G, H, and to trace
a line corresponding to the line LMN. Divide ABCD into
any number of equal squares, or parallelograms, by straight
lines parallel to AB and AD, and divide abed also into
the same number, by lines parallel to a 6, a d; then, by
comparing the corresponding parallelograms, points e, f,
g, h may easily be found occupying very nearly the same
positions ma b c d, that the points E, F, G, H do in ABCD,
and a line I m n may also be traced, differing little in
its direction from LINIX. This method may be advantage-
ously employed for filling up the details of a map, after
the principal points have been determined by some more
accurate method. For the use of the pentagraph, in re-
ducing maps, see the article Dr.vwisg Instruments. —
See, for the construction of maps, Precis de la Geografihie
Universelle, par M. Make Brun, torn. ii. Paris 1812; Me-
7noires sur la Projection des Cartes Geografiliiques, par M.
Henry, Paris 1810; Lorgna, Princifiiidi Geografa, Verona
1789; Playfair, Outlines of Xatural Philosophy, yo\.n. ^.
66, &;c.

Sect. V. On the Determination of the Longitudes and
Latitudes of Places 07i the Earth's Surface.

In the preceding Sections, we have pointed out the va-
rious methods which may be employed in delineating the
whole or a part of the earth's surface, either upon a sphere
or upon a plane. Before a map, however, can be complet-
ed, it is necessary to have the exact position of various places
in reference to the equator, and to some fixed meridian ;
and hence the determination of the longitudes and latitudes
of places by astronomical, trigonometrical, or chronome-
trical observations, is one of the most important operations
in geography.

We have already pointed out in our article Astronomy,
the method of making these observations by the aid of the
planets or the fixed stars ; and in our articles Navigation,
Surveying, and Timekeeper, we shall have occasion to
consider the method of determining longitudes and latitudes
by trigonometrical instruments, and by chronometers. We
shall, therefore, conclude this article with a Table of geo-
graphical positions, exhibiting the latitude of the principal
points on the earth's surface, and their longitudes, or dif-
ference of meridians, in relation to the observatory of
Greenwich.

This Table, which is by far the most correct that has
ever been published, has been taken principally from the
Connoissance des Terns for 1815, and contains the results
of the best observations which have been made by astrono-
mers and navigators, and by those eminent individuals who
have from time to time been ernployed in measuring de-
grees of the meridian. We have corrected many of the
positions, and have added more than two hundred new
places in England and Scotland, from the accurate obser-
vations of Colonel Wudge and Captain Coleby. No place
is inserted, unless its position has been actually determined,
either by astronomical, trigonometrical, or chronometrical
observation.

GEOGRAPHY.

631

TABLE OF LONGITUDES AND LATITUDES,

AS DETERMINED BY

Astronomical, Trigonometrical, and Chronometrical Observations.

Names of Places.

Aalboig 57 2

Aarhus 56 9

Aberystwith Station 52 45

Abbeville 50 7

Aberdeen 5 7 9

Abo 60 37

Acapulco 16 50

Actopan 20 17

Adelsberg 45 38

Admiralty Island 2 1 1

Adi-ia 45 2

Adventure bay 43 21

Aerschoot 50 59

Agde 43 18

Agen 44 12

Agero fort 59 1

Agria 47 53

Ahiis 55 55

Aichstadt 48 53

Aigues-Moi'tes 43 33

Air point lighthouse 53 21

Aire 43 41

Aix 43 31

Aix, Isle of 46 1

Ajaccio 41 55

Akerman 46 12

Alais 44 7

Alausi 2 13

Albano 41 43
Albans, St. Peter's steeple 50 45
Albemarle Isle, N. W. point 0 2

Albi 43 55

Alboran, Isle of 35 57

Alcala de Ilenarez 40 28

Alcmaer 52 38

Aleppo 36 11

Alet 42 59

Alexandretta 36 35

Alexandria 31 13

Algiers, the lighthouse 36 48

Algesiras 36 8

Alicante 38 20

Almaguer 5 54

Almeiia 36 51

Alost 50 56

Altavelalsle 17 28

Altdorf 47 45

Altcnrode 51 51

Altengaard 69 55

Amasreh 41 46

Amboyna, Isleof 3 41

Ambi im, Isle of 16 9

Amiens 49 53

Amlwch steeple 53 23

Amsterdam 52 22
Amsterdam Isle, west point 37 47

Anchoiile Islands 1 0

Ancona 43 37

Andover steeple 51 12

Andujar 38 1
Ancgada, Isle, south-east pt. 28 43

Latitude.

32 N
35 N
29 N

ION

19 N

28 N
ION

45 S

57 N

29 N
15 N
40 N
22 N

ON
54 N
SON
SON

58 N

28 N
52 N
48 N

38 N
1 N
ON

22 N
22 S
SON
19 N
ON

46 N
ON

40 N
2N

25 N

39 N
27 N

36 N

41 N

29 N
ON

18N

11 N

29 N
ON
3N

41 S

30 S
41 N

ON
17N
46 S

0 S
54 N
39 N
32 N
48 N

Longitude.

0 I It

9 56

10 14

4 3

1 49

2 8
22 20
99 48
98 49
14 23

146 12
12 3

147 23
4 49

3 28
0 36

10 55
20 21
14 16

41 E

5 E

19 W

58 E

15 E

18 W

25 E

4 n

3 18
0 15

E
E
E
E
E
E
E
E
E
E
E

26
10

8 44
30 44

4
79
12

0
91

3 0

3 23

4 44
37 10

2 15
36 !5
29 50

35 W

36 W
47 E
41 W

4 E
0 E
25 E
15 W
15 E
31 W
OW
33 E
40 W
22 W
45 E

E
E
E

E
E

76 55
2 31
4 2

71 38

9 34

10 43

23 4

32 24

128 7

167 51

2 18
4 19
4 53

77 25
145 25

13 29
1 28

3 59
C4 22

12 W
35 W

2W
OW

13 E
45 W
15 E

E
E
E
E
E
E

17 W
15 E
11 E

6 -E

7 E
19 W
33^W
50 W

Names of Places.

Angelos, los
Angers
Angouleme

Anguilla, Isle, west point
Anguille, cape
Anholt, lighthouse
Aniwa, cape
Anna-Maria harbour
Annabon, Isle of, north point
Annan spire
Ann's, St, Hill
Ann's, St, lighthouse
Anson's Island
Anstey, East, steeple
Anstruther, West, spire
Antibes

Anticosti, Isle of
Antigua, fort Hamilton
Antongil, bay of
Antvi'erp
Aor, Isle of
Apenrade
Apt

Apure, mouth of the river
Aquileia
Aquin, bay of
Aranda on the Douro
Aranjuez
Archangel
Ardenbourg
Arcndal

Arensbourg, Isleof CEsel
Argental, Cape
Arica
Aries

Arona, the statue of St Ch.
Arras

Asaph, St, cathedral
Ascension, Isle of
Ashwell spire

Asinara, Isle of, the summit
Aspoe, Isle of
Assenede
Assise
Astorga
Astracan
Ath
Athens

Atherington steeple
Atour, Isle, road of Ouimca
Atures
•Auch
Augsburg
Aurich
Aurora Isle
All tun
Auxerre
Aveiro
Aves, Isle
Avignon
Avranches

Latitude.
I II

19 0
47 28

45 38
18 12
47 55
56 44

46 2
8 56
1 25

54 59
51 41

5
51
56

43 34
49 26
17 4
15 27

13
30
2
52
36
45 45
18 13
41 40

40 1
64 31
51 16
58 27
58 15

42
18

43 40
45 45

50
53
7
52
41
61

51
43

42 27
46 21
50 42
37 53
50 59
21 57

5
43

48 21

46 56

47 47
40 38
15 50
43 57

15N

57 N

20 N

32 S
0 S

23 N

39 N
59 N

30 S
38 N

33 N
48 N

ON
SON
23 S
16N

ON
S7N
29 N
23 N
32 N
48 N
I2N
54N

40 N

27 N
ON
9N

25 N
40 S

31 N
53 N

34 N

28 N
0 S

32 N
40 N
20 N
42 N
22 N

9N
I2N
17N

IN
26N

ON
34N
39 N
46 N
12N

0 S
48 N
57 N
18N
18 N

Longitude.

o I II

98 2 30 W

0 33 OW

0 9 16 E

63 12 2W

59 23 5W

11 38 51 E

143 30 20 E

139 39 OW

45 15 E

14 45 W

8 53W

9 19W
154 35 0 E

3 36 15W
2 41 37 W
7 7 50 E

63 37 5SW
61 54 45 W
53 23 30 E

4 24 10 E
104 40 15 E

9 26 38 E

5 23 52 E
66 36 15W
13 23
73

3
5
5

3 36

40 43

0 E
20 S2W
39 42 W
ISW
30 E

3 26 56 E

8 50 25 E

22 27 45 E

11 9 39 E

70 11

4 37
8 33

47 E
8 E

2 46 25 E

3 25 44W
13 58 45W

0 9 23W

8 17
4 45
3 45

34 E
55 E
18 E

12 35 28 E
6 10 IW

48
3

159

2 45 E
46 32 E

46 14 E
59 40W
39 2 5W

48 41 23N

67 59 OW

0 35 11 E

10 54 42 E

7 27 22 E

58 6 E

17 59 E

34 21 E

38 45W

38 2W

48 SO E

3 2W

632

GEOGRAPHY.

Names of Places^

Latitude.

O 1 II

I.ongUude.

o / '1

Names of Places.

LatitucTe.
0 1 II

I./)nKitu<Ie.
0 // //

Aveilli

45 10

5 0 0 E

Blomoe

60 31 55 N

4 54 45 E

Avatcha, Bay of

62 51

45 N

158 46 45 li

Bojador, Cape

26 12 SON

14 25 45 W

Axedge

53 14

1 56 27W

Uolabola, Isle

16 32 30 S

151 50 35 W

Axliolme steeple

53 29

27 N

0 50 40W

Bolcherctz

52 54 30 N

156 50 15 E

Ayavaca

4 37

51 S

79 41 5 E

Bologna

44 30 12 N

11 21 30 E

Aylesbury steeple

51 49

0 48 4lW

Bolt Head

50 13 15 N

3 48 3W

Bombay

18 56 40 N

72 38 15 E

Baba, Cape

39 30

15N

25 51 40 E

Bommel

51 48 53 N

4 55 10 E

Bagaim

19 19

72 40 15 E

Boni, harbour of

0 2 30 S

131 1 59 E

Bagdad

S3 19

40 N

44 24 45 E

Bonifacio

41 23 10 N

9 9 16 E

Bajoly, Cape

40 2

45 N

3 52 5 E

Bootliby steeple

53 7 7 N

0 31 24 W

Balada, liarbour of Bourgioue

20 16

41 N

164 25 32 E

Borcliloeii

50 43 17 N

5 20 33 E

Balagiicr

40 59

SON

0 59 15 E

Boscawen and Keppcl Isles

15 53 OS

174 34 45W

Baldock telegraph

51 58

36 N

0 10 35W

Boston

42 22 UN

70 58 45W

Balsham steeple

52 8

13N

0 20 3 E

Botany Bay

34 0 0 S

151 23 15 E

Bainborough castle, flagstaff

55 36

42 N

1 42 8W

Botol, Isle of, east point

21 46 38 N

122 4 54 E

Baradello

45 4r

13N

9 5 44 E

Bouc, the lower of

43 23 31 N

4 58 49 E

Barbadoes, Bridgetown

13 5

59 40 OW

Bouca. See Anson's Island.

Barbary point

15 53

16 31 OW

Boulogne

50 43 37 N

1 36 59 E

Barcelona, New

10 6

52 N

64 44 30W

Bourbon Isle, St Denis

20 51 43 S

•55 SO 15 E

Barcelona, tower of Montjoy

41 22

44 N

2 9 57 E

Bourdeaux

44 50 14 N

0 33 59W

BarHeur liglithouse

49 40

21 N

1 15 ISW

Bourg de I'Ain

46 12 26 N

5 13 45 E

Barlingues Isles

39 25

9 29 57W

Bourgcs

47 5 4 N

2 23 55 E

Barnaould

53 20

83 29 0 E

Boutin, point

51 52 ON

141 48 15 E

Barnaby moor

54 33

31N

1 6 S8W

Bouton, the town of

5 27 53 S

122 29 37 E

Barlina

41 42

53 N

32 14 0 E

Bozzolo

45 6 4 N

10 29 36 E

Bashee Isles, Grafton

21 4

121 0 15 E

Brandenburg

52 27 ON

12 53 15 E

Basle

A7 33

34 N

7 35 27 E

Braunau

48 14 ON

12 56 45 E

Bass rock, highest point

56 4 53N

2 37 47W

Bray steeple

51 30 33 N

0 41 53W

Bassano

45 45

34 N

11 44 50 E

Breda

51 35 23 N

4 46 36 E

Bastia

42 41

36 N

9 26 45 E

Bregancon, fort of

43 5 28 N

6 19 21 E

Batavia

6 12

0 S

106 54 1 E

Bregentz

47 30 30 N

9 43 55 E

Bath

51 22

30 N

2 21 loW

Bremen

53 4 38 N

8 48 0 E

Bald, Cape

51 39

45 N

55 27 35W

Brescia

45 32 SO N

10 14 9 E

Bayeux

49 16

34 N

0 41 S6W

Brescou

43 15 21 N

3 27 8 E

Bayonne

43 29

15N

I 27 26W

Breslaw

51 6 30 N

17 2 18 E

Bazas

44 25

55 N

0 12 32 W

Brest

48 23 14 N

4 28 45 W

Beachyheatl

SO 44

24 N

0 15 12 E

Briel

51 54 15 N

4 9 51 E

Beaconsfield spire

51 36

0 38 OW

Bridgewater

51 7 41 N

2 59 39W

Bebbington spire

53 20

55 N

2 59 32W

Brighton

50 49 32 N

0 7 40W

Beauvais

49 26

2 5 0 E

Brill, rock of

6 5 0 S

lis 51 15 E

Bees, St, Head lighthouse

54 30

55 N

3 37 24 E

Bristol

51 27 6 N

2 35 29W

Behring, Isle

55 36

157 46 15 E

Brixen

46 40 ON

11 37 15 E

Belleisle

47 17

17N

3 4 45W

Brocken, Mountain

51 48 29 N

10 36 35 E

Bembridge

50 40

15N

1 0 OW

Brouage

45 52 3 N

1 3 45 W

Benavente

41 59

56N

5 39 28W

Bruck

47 24 34 N

15 15 41 E

Bencoolen

3 49

16 S

102- 10 45 E

Bruges

51 12 33 N

3 13 33 E

Bender

46 50

32 N

29 46 15 E

Brunn

•49 11 28 N

16 35 21 E

Bergamo

45 41

51 N

9 40 26 E

Brunswick

52 15 43 N

10 29 30 E

Bergen-op-Zoora

51 29

44 N

4 17 23 E

Brussels

50 50 59 N

4 22 15 E

Bergen

60 24

5 20 40 E

Buda

47 29 44 N

19 2 30 E

Berlin

52 31

45 N

13 22 15 E

Buenos Ayres

34 35 26 S

58 31 OW

Berne

46 56

55N

7 26 15 E

Buga

3 55 20 N

76 21 50 W

Berry, Isles, the one most S. E

1.25 30

45 N

78 1 38W

Bucharest

44 26 45 N

26 SUE

Berryhead

50 24

3 28 14W

Buckingham spire

51 59 53 N

0 59 5W

Berwick spire

55 46

21 N

1 59 41 W

Burgas

40 14 30 N

26 27 7 E

Besangon

47 13

45 N

6 2 45 E

Burgeo, Isles of

47 35 30 N

57 36 OW

Beziers

43 20

31 N

3 13 0 E

Burgos

42 20 59 N

2 40, 15 W

Eidston lighthouse

53 24

3 3 46W

Button Isle

60 35 ON

64 19 45W

Biggleswade spire

52 5

12N

0 15 55 W

Bwlch Mawr

53 0 19 N

4 19 46 W

Biorneborg

61 29

21 43 5 E

Birch, Bay of

4« 53

30 N

122 26 15 W

Cabrera, middle of the Isle of 39 7 30 N

3 0 20 E

Bizati harbour

37 38

27 N

'22 54 3 E

Cadiz, observatory

36 32 ON

6 17 22 W

Blackhead

50 51

12N

5 3 59W

Cader Idres

52 42 2 N

4 28 SW

Biankenburg

51 47

53 N

10 57 15 E

Caen

49 11 12 N

0 21 38 W

Blenheim Palace

51 50

29 N

1 20 45 W

Caffa

45 6 SO N

35 12 45 E

Bletchworth

51 14

35 N

0 14 39W

Cagliari

39 13 9 N

9 5 45 E

Blois

47 35

20 N

1 20 16 E

Cahors

44 25 59 N

1 27 17 E

GEOGHAPITY.

63;

Names of Places.

Latitude.

Lonsfitiule.

o / II

O / V

Cairo

30 2 21 N

31 18 45 E

Cajanebui'g

64 13 SON

27 45 30 E

Cajeli, Bouro Isle

3 22 33 S

127 2 49 E

Calais

50 57 32 N

1 51 16 E

Calculta

22 34 45 N

88 31 45 E

Callao, port of

12 3 9 S

77 14 ISW

Calniar

56 40 30 N

15 26 15 E

Calsliot Castle

50 48 13 N

1 18 6\V

Calvi

42 34 7 N

8 45 16 E

Cainbray

50 10 37 N

3 13 47 E

Cambridge, Trinity Spire

52 12 45 N

0 7 42 E

Camerino

43 6 25 N

13 24 18 E

Caminha

41 52 42 N

8 43 57W

Canipeacliy

19 50 45 N

90 30 SOW

Cananore

1151 ON

75 24 15 E

Candia, town of

35 18 45 N

25 18 15 E

Canea

35 28 45 N

24 12 45 E

Canigon, mount

42 31 7N

2 27 23 E

Cansau, harbour of

45 20 7 N

60 54 45 \V

Canton

23 8 9 N

113 2 45 E

Canterbury

51 18 26N

0 55 8 E

Canzer, cape

36 17 50 N

35 40 15 E

Cape Frangais, town

19 45 20 N

72 17 55 W

Cape Frangais, Old

19 40 30 N

70 1 15W

Cape of Good Hope

33 55 15 S

18 24 0 E

Cape Blanc

20 55 30 N

17 9 45W

Ditto

47 1 5 OS

65 59 15VV

Ditto

33 11 30 N

35 7 15 E

Cape North

54 31 30 S

73 16 14\V

Cape North in Europe

71 10 ON

26 0 45 E

Cape North east of Asia

68 56 ON

180 4 8 45 E

Cape Verd

14 43 45 N

17 30 30W

Capo d'lstria, town

45 30 35 N

13 42 48 E

Capraja, isle of

43 0 18 N

9 48 13 E

Caprera, isle

41 12 46 N

9 28 23 E

Caraccas

10 30 50 N

67 4 45 W

Carcassonne

43 12 54 N

2 21 0 E

Cardigan Steeple

52 4 59 N

4 38 18W

Carlaverock. castle

54 58 41 N

3 SO 41 W

Carlota

37 39 41 N

4 56 35W

Carlsburg

45 4 21 N

23 34 30 E

Carlscroiia

55 6 57 N

15 33 0 E

Carlsham

56 10 40 N

14 51 0 E

Carmona

37 28 IN

5 39 59V/

Carolina

38 17 5 N

3 36 13W

Carpentras

44 3 28 N

5 2 43 E

Carpio

37 56 37 N

4 29 26W

Carthagena

10 25 18 N

75 29 45W

Carthagena

37 35 50 N

1 0 21W

Carwar, cape

14 47 ON

73 56 15 E

Casal-Maggiore

44 59 12 N

10 25 38 E

Casbin

35 11 ON

49 33 15 E

Cashe'l

51 19 20 N

'9 35 18 E

Caslelnaudari

43 19 4N

1 52 36 E

Castiglione, fort

42 45 58 N

10 52 15 E

Castres

43 37 3 N

2 15 IE

Castries, bay of

51 29 ON ;

140 56 19 E

Catherinesburgh

56 50 S3N

60 40 15 E

Cavada

43 20 43 N

3 42 19W

Cavaillon

43 50 6N

5 2 10 E

Cavan

53 51 41 N

7 25 15W

Caxamarca

7 8 38 S

78 35 15W

Cayenne

4 56 15 N

52 14 45 W

Cayman Orsst

19 19 ON

80 46 15W

Cayman Chico

1 9 42 ON

79' 38 30 W^

Cayns, town of

18 11 10 N

73 50 19 W

Cayo d'Argan, N. E.

20 31 ON

69 32 3)W

Cavo Arore

20 29 24 N

70 3 52 W

Vol. IX. Part II.

Names of Places.

Cayo Confitfjs

C^ayo Cruz del Padre

Cayo (iuinchos

Cayo de Lobos

Cayo Honiainc

Cayo do Don Christoval

Cayo de Scl

Cayo vert

Cayqucs

Cerigo, isle, south point

Ccrs, isle of

Ccrvia

Cctte, the lighthouse

Ceuta, the mounlain of Acho

Chalons-sur-Marne

Chalons- sur-Saone

Chandernagorc

Charkov

Charlcton steeple

Charlotte's, Queen, Cape

Chartres

Chassiron, the tower

Chateau, Isles of

Chatham Isle, cape Young

Chatham, port

Oielidony, Cape

Cheltenham steeple

Cherbourg

Chester Trinity spire

Cliester-le-Strcet spire

Cheviot Hill

Chiloe, isle, at Don Carlos

Chapiona, point

Chinquinquira

Clioul, fort

Christchurch

Christian, Isle

Christiania

Christiansand

Christiansfeldt

Cliristianstadt

Christiansand

Christinaestad

Cilley

Cimbritzham

Ciotat

Civita-Vecchia

Clausthal

Clermont

Clermont Ferrand

Clevcs

Cobham's pillar

Cobourg

Cochin

Cocos, or Keeling isle, middle

Codera, Cape of

Coimbra

Coleby spire

Collioure

Colnet, Cape of, N. Caledonia

Colnet, North West America

Cologne

Colombrctfa Isle

Columbia, mouth of the river

Conimaciiio

Como

Comoi in, Cape

Conception

4 L

I..atitiKle. Longitudp.

O t II o I II

22 II 44 N 77 44 30W

23 14 ON 81 3 45W
22 44 ON 78 4 45 W
22 24 SON 77 36 30W

21 53 ON 77 42 15W

22 10 ON 82 0 45W

23 39 8 N 80 14 45 W
22 5 6N 77 40 15W

21 44 15 N 71 26 50W
36 6 ON 22 51 38 E
49 23 32 N 2 24 30W
41 15 31 N 12 19 43 E
43 23 37 N 3 41 5 E
35 54 4N 5 16 15W

48 57 16N 4 22 1 E

45 45 53 N 4 51 8 E

22 51 26 N 88 29 30 E

49 59 43 N 36 26 32 E

50 16 16 N 3 44 31W
22 IS 0 S 167 13 OF,

48 26 54 N 1 19 20 E

46 2 51 N 1 24 12W
22 7 45 N 74 25 SOW
43 48 OS 176 58 OW

35 3 0 S 116 35 0 E

36 13 25 N 30 20 25W

5 1 4 7 N 2 4 6W

49 38 31 N 1 37 3W

53 11 26 N 2 S3 IW

54 51 28 N 1 33 49W^

55 28 52 N 2 8 12W
41 53 OS 72 44 45W
36 44 18 N 6 24 OW

5 32 ON 74 13 52W

18 32 ON 72 43 45 E

50 42 57 N 1 45 llW
36 15 ON 25 3 45 E
59 55 20 N 10 48 4^ E
58 8 5'N 8 3 13 E

55 21 36 N 9 28 55 E

56 1 15 N 14 9 30 E
63 6 35 N 7 42 45 E
62 16 9N 2118 5E
46 40 0 N 15 2 1. 45 E
55 33 27 N 14 20 45 E
43 10 29 N 5 37 0 E
43 5 24 N 1 I 44 45 E
51 43 30 N 10 20 32 E

49 22 48 N 2 25 5 E
45 46 44 N 3 5 17 E

51 47 40 N 6 7 7 E

52 2 3 N 10 24.W

50 15 18 N 10 58 0 E
9 55 30 N 76 16 15 E

12 11 0 ^ 96 23 IS E

10 35 54 N 65 59 ISW

40 12 30 N 8 24 44 E

53 8 4 N 0 32 25W
42 31 31 N 3 5 15 E
20 30 0 S 15t 56 15 E
30 53 0 N 115 2 OW
50 55 21 N 6 55 15 E
39 5i ON 4 0 17 E
46 19 ON 123 54 OW
44' 40 27 N 12 10 2 E
45 48 22 N 9 5 41 E

7 56 0 N 77 32 15 E

36 -ig 10 N 73 54 45W

634

GEOGRAPHY.

Names of Places.

Latitude.

0 1 II

Longitude.

O 1 II

Names of PUees.

Latitude.
• / II

Longitude.
o r II

Gonchee, the tower of

48 41 2N

2 3 15W

Delmenhorst

53 3 29 N

8 39 28 E

Conclusion, port

56 IS ON

134 23 30W

Dendera

26 8 26 N

32 30 57 E

Condom

43 57 49 N

0 22 22 E

Denis, Cape

8 24 0 S 1

151 3 53-.E

Condor, Isle

8 40 ON

105 31 52 E

Derby steeple

52 55 32 N

1 28 16W

Constantinople, St Sophias

41 1 27 N

28 55 15 E

Dereham, East

52 40 ON

0 55 0 E

Constance

47 36 10 N

9 8 15 E

Deseada, or Desirade, Isle,

Cope, Cape

37 24 40 N

1 31 40W

N. E. point

16 20 ON

61 1 SOW

Copenhagen

55 41 4 N

12 35 6 E

Devizes, St John's steeple

51 21 15 N

1 59 6W

Copiapo

27 10 OS

71 5 15W

Diarbeker

37 54 ON

39 53 45 E

Coquet Isle lighthouse

55 20 UN

3 11 47VV

Dibeh, mouth of the Nile

31 22 6N

32 7 30 E

Coquimbo

29 54 40 S

71 19 ISW

Die

44 45 31 N

5 22 33 E

Cordova

37 52 13 N

4 45 53W

Diego Ramirezo, Isle

56 27 30 S

68 39 14W

Cordova, port

45 45 OS

67 27 15W

Diephelz

52 36 30 N

8 21 IE

Cordovan, tower

45 55 15 N

1 10 25VV

Diemens Isle, south cape

43 38 30 S

146 SO 45 E

Corientes, Cape, in Cuba

21 44 30 N

84 28 37W

Diemen, harbour, north of

43 32 17 S

146 56 48 E

Conentcs, Cape, in Mexico

20 25 30 N

105 35 36 VV

Dieppe

49 55 34 N

1 4 44 E

Corinth

37 58 22 N

23 28 29 E

Digg, Cape of

62 41 ON

78 49 45 W

Cork

51 53 54 N

8 29 OW

Digne

44 5 18 N

6 14 19 E

Corneto

42 15 23 N

11 43 15 E

Dijon

47 19 25 N

5 2 5 E

Coron

36 47 26 N

21 58 52 E

Dillingen

48 34 17 N

10 30 29 E

Corte

42 1 8 2 N

9 8 46 E

Discovery, Port

48 2 SON

122 37 41W

Corvo, Isle, south point

39 40 45 N

31 2 45 W

Disseada Cape

53 4 15 S

74 30 45 W

Couilras, Isles of

47 23 IN

70 23 19VV

Diu Cape

20 42 ON

70 47 15W

Coupang

10 9 55 S

123 28 28 E

Dixmude

51 2 12N

2 52 3 E

Coutances

49 2 54 N

1 26 23W

Dobryzn

52 38 5N

19 35 15 E

Courtray

50 49 43 N

3 16 6 E

Doera Cape

33 0 ON

22 16 45 E

Cowes

50 45 27 N

1 19 24W

Dol

48 33 8 N

1 45 3W

Cracatoa, Isle

6 6 0 S

105 36 15 E

Domburg

51 33 51 N

3 29 52 E

Cracow

50 3 38 N

19 57 9 E

Dominica, Roseau

15 18 23N

61 32 ISW

Crail spire

56 15 58 N

2 36 55W

Donawert

48 43 15 N

10 47 3 E

Crema

45 21 29 N

9 41 57 E

Dorchester

50 42 57 N

2 25 2SW

Cremona

45 7 43 N

10 2 12 E

Dordrecht

51 48 54 N

4 39 42 E

Crenismunster

48 3 29 N

14 8 8 E

Doro, Cape

38 9 30N

24 19 45 E

Crcux, Cape of

42 19 35 N

3 20 50 E

Dorpat

58 22 47 N

26 45 15 E

Criffel mountain

54 55 44 N

3 36 55W

Dortmund

51 31 24 N

7 26 41 E

Crillon, Cape of

45 56 ON

142 59 54 E

Dover Castle

51 7 47 N

1 19 7 E

Croc, harbour of

51 3 17N

55 49 45W

Drake Island, observatory

50 21 21 N

4 8 18W

Croisic

47 17 43 N

2 30 15W

Dresden

51 2 SON

13 43 IE

Crossfell

54 42 18 N

2 28 37 W

Dromedary, Mount

36 16 33 S

150 19 57 E

Cross-sound, entry

58 12 ON

136 5 OW

Drontheim

63 25 SON

10 23 25 E

Croydon steeple

52 7 57N

0 4 45W

Druja

55 47 29 N

27 13 45 E

Cucao, mountain

42 45 OS

74 6 15W

Dublin

53 21 UN

6 18 45 W

Cuenca

2 55 3 S

79 13 22W

Duisburgh

51 26 6N

6 45 39 E

Cuilera, Cape

39 9 ON

0 10 40 W

Dunchurch steeple

52 20 16 N

1 16 56 W

Cumana

10 27 37 N

64 9 45W

Dundee

56 25 ON

3 2 ISW

Cumanacoa

10 16 11 N

63 58 35W

Dungeness lighthouse

50 55 1 N

0 57 48 E

Cummin, Isle of

31 40 ON

121 41 0 E

Dunkirk

51 2 9N

2 22 37 E

Cura

10 2 47 N

67 44 45W

Dunnose

50 37 7N

1 11 36W

Cuxhaven lighthouse

53 52 21 N

8 43 IE

Dunse spire

55 46 SON

2 19 58W

Durham cathedral

54 46 31 N

1 34 6W

DafFenside beacon

54 49 27 N

2 30 47W

Dusseldorf

51 13 42 N

6 46 25 E

Dagelet, Isle

37 22 18 N

130 57 22 E

Dager-ort

58 56 IN

22 9 15 E

Easter Island

27 8 30 S

109 51 ISW

Dalrymple, Cape

48 21 ON

142 50 0 E

Eastham spire

53 18 SO N

2 57 IW

Damietta

31 25 40 N

31 50 0 E

Ebersdorf

SO 29 33 N

1! 40 23 E

Damme

52 31 34 N

8 12 18 E

Edam

52 30 49 N

5 2 56 E

Danger, Isles of, middle

10 51 OS

167 4 45 W

Eddystone lighthouse

50 10 55 N

4 15 3W

Dantzic

54 20 48 N

18 38 5 E

Eddystone Island

8 18 0 S

156 30 53 E

Danville Cape

31 27 30 N

131 27 15 E

Edgecumbe

57 2 ON

135 46 ISW

Dardanelles, old castle

40 9 8N

26 19 30 E

Edinburgh observatory

55 57 57 N

3 10 21W

Darmstadt

49 56 24 N

8 34 49 E

Egersund

58 26 10 N

5 57 0 E

Daveiitry spire

52 15 39 N

1 9 3W

Eisenach

50 58 55 N

10 20 15 E

David's, St, cathedral

51 52 56N

5 14 53 W

Eisgarn

48 54 IN

14 59 56 E

Dax

43 42 19 N

1 3 3W

Elbingen

54 8 20 N

19 22 0 E

Deadman

50 13 20 N

4 47 4W

Elbingerode

5 1 47 2 N

10 47 44 E

Deception, Cape

8 32 30 S

157 2 29 E

Eldon hills, highest point

55 35 6N

2 42 27W

Deliverance, Cape of

10 59 20 S

154 26 30 E

Elisabeth, Cape

59 9 ON

151 7 OW

Delft

53 0 49 N

4 31 45 E

EUaeet

53 11 21 N

8 26 20 E

GEOGRAPHY.

635

Names of Places.

Latitude.

O t It

Longitude.

O 1 II

Ely Minister

52 24 49 N

15 35 E

Embden

53 22 3N

li 1 E

Embiun

44 34 7N

25 9 E

Emeralda

3 11 ON

3 0 E

Emmerich

51 49 52 N

14 51 E

Enave

68 56 SON

IS 15 E

Endeavour river, mouth of

15 26 OS

145

11 8 E

Engano, Cape,

18 34 42 N

25 37W

Engelholm

56 14 20 N

52 15 E

Enkuysen

52 42 22 N

17 41 E

Enos

40 41 58 N

58 44 E

Epworth steeple

53 23 18 N

48 58 W

Erdingen

48 18 25 N

55 8 E

Eregri

41 17 51 N

27 20 E

Erfurth

SO 58 45 N

2 25 E

Erlangen

49 35 36 N

4 0 E

Erromanga Isle,

18 46 30 S

168

57 36 E

Erronan, Isle of.

19 34 OS

170

0 5 E

Escurial

40 35 50 N

7 SOW

Espoda,' Cape

18 19 48 N

34 13W

Estaing Bay,

48 59 38 N

142

31 59 E

Etaple

SO 31 -40 N

35 45 E

Etoile, Isle of, Peak,

14 29 OS

167

52 5 E

Evangelist, Isles of

52 34 OS

5 ISW

Evaux

40 10 42 N

U 18 E

Eversden, Great, steeple

52 8 35 N

0 20 E

Evoux, Isles

55 32 12 S

47 14W

Evreux

48 55 30 N

9 19 E

Exeter

50 44 ON

34 15W

Exeter cathedral

50 43 25 N

31 OW

Ezija

F
Fairhill

37 31 51 N

4 34W

59 28 ON

54 45W

Fairweather, Cape

58 50 40 N

138

5 SOW

Falkenberg

56 53 54 N

30 IS E

Falkland Isles, Port Egmont

51 25 OS

59 15 W

Falmouth

50 8 ON

2 ISW

Falsierbo

55 23 4N

49 45 E

Fanagoria

45 12 16 N

35 0 E

Fano

43 51 ON

59 S3 E

Farewell, Cape

59 38 ON

41 45W

Farnhani steeple

51 32 6N

36 41 W

Faro, from St Ant. de Alto

36 59 12 N

51 57W

Fawley steeple

51 34 34N

54 32 W

Fayal, Isle, from la Horte

38 30 55 N

41 48W

Fecamp

49 45 24 N

23 3 E

Feldkirchen

47 14 20 N

35 15 E

Fells, the tower of the castle

41 16 7N

57 48 E

Feltre

46 0 43N

55 24 E

Fermo

43 10 18 N

41 41 E

Fernando-Noronha, Isle

3 56 20 S

37 45W

Fernando-Po, Isle

3 28 ON

40 IS E

Ferrara

44 49 56 N

36 25 E

Ferro Isle, west point of

27 45 ON

9 4SW

Ferrol

43 29 ON

15 OW

Fez

34 0 3N

1 19W

Figueras

42 16 IN

57 39 E

Finisterre, cape

42 54 ON

16 OW

Fivehead steeple

51 0 17N

54 33W

Fiume

45 20 ION

26 22 E

Fladstrand

57 27 3N

33 30 E

Flatholme's lighthouse

51 22 33 N

6 25W

Freckeroe

58 5 ON

1 0 E

Flensburg

54 47 18 N

27 40 E

Florence

43 46 41 N

15 45 E

Floras, Isle

39 33 59 N

8 ISW

Flushing

51 26 42 N

34 57 E

Foerder, lighthouse

59 2 3N

10 37 23 E

Names of Places.

Folkstone

Foiitarabia

Foiitliill Abbey

Fostoii spire

Formby point, N. W. landmark

F"ortavenlura Isle, W. point

Foulpoint

Frampion House

Francais, liarbour of

Fiance, Isle of, harbour

Frankfort on the Main

Frankfort on the Oder

Fravenburgh

Freliel, Cape

Freisengen

Freistadt

Frejus

Fria, Cape

F"rontignan

Fuentes, Cape

Fulda

F'urnes

G
Gabey Isle
Gallego river
Gallipoli
Gamaley, Cape
Gamjam
Gap

Gaspay, bay of
Gate, cape of
Geer, Cape
Gefle

Gelnhausen
Geneva
Genoa

George's, King, harbour
Georgetown
Georgia, Isle, N. Cape
Gera

Gerona, the Cathedral
Gertruydenberg
Ghent
Gibraltar
Gidros
Gijon

Gillingham steeple
Giraglia, tower of
Girg6
Glandeves
Glasgow

Gloucester cathedral
Gluchow
Gluckstadt
Goa
Goave
Goes

Golowatschef, Cape
Goniera, Isle, harbour
Gonava, Isle, N. E. point
Gorgon Isle
Gore Isle
Goree Isle
Goring
Gortz

Gotha, Obs. of Seeberg
Gothaab
Gottenburg

4 L2

.atitude.

tiongitude.

/ II

O 1 II

4 47N

1 10 52 £

21 36 N

1 47 15W

4 43N

2 6 34W

55 33 N

0 46 21 W

33 34 N

3 5 2W

4 ON

14 31 15W

40 14 S

49 53 15 E

25 1 N

3 29 15W

36 ON

137 25 SOW

9 45 S

57 28 30 E

7 29N

8 36 0 E

22 8N

14 33 IS E

21 34N

19 40 30 E

41 ION

2 18 36 W

23 58 N

11 45 30 E

29 ON

14 22 15 E

25 52 N

6 44 9 E

2 0 S

41 31 ISW

26 42 N

3 45 18 E

8 29N

9 24 59 E

33 57 N

9 44 0 E

4 23 N

2 39 51 E

6 0S

126 24 0 E

40 0 S

69 4 45 W

25 33 N

26 37 30 E

37 40 N

139 48 30 E

22 30 N

85 18 15 E

33 45 N

6 4 28 E

47 SON

64 27 15W

44 ON

2 12 SOW

38 ON

9 51 45 W

39 45 N

17 8 SO E

13 25 N

9 13 53 E

12 ON

6 9 30 E

25 ON

8 58 0 E

5 30 S

118 14 IS E

55 ON

77 9 48W

4 45 S

38 14 4SW

53 22 N

12 4 1 E

59 21N

2 49 34 E

42 SN

4 51 54 E

3 21N

3 43 50 E

6 SON

5 19 31W

52 43 N

32 54 30 E

35 19 N

5 44 49W

2 20N

2 16 8W

1 42 N

9 23 53 E

20 3N

31 55 6 E

56 43 N

6 48 25 E

51 S2N

4 16 45W

52 3N

2 14 ISW

40 SON

34 20 15 E

47 42 N

9 27 2 E

31 ON

73 45 15 E

26 SIN

72 54 19W

30 18 N

3 53 31 E

30 ISN

141 55 0 E

5 40N

17 7 45W

40 ION

73 0 47W

25 46 N

9 S3 10 E

17 ON

177 11 15 E

40 ION

17 24 45 W

48 34 N

0 25 29W

57 SON

13 28 45 E

56 8N

10 44 0 E

9 55N

64 27 ISW

42 4 N

11 57 45 E

636

gp:ograpiiy.

' Names of Places.

Latitude.

0 / //

Longitude.

0 / II

Names of Places.

Latitude.

o / (/

Lonpittide.

O f II

Gottingen

54 N

15 E

Havre

49 29 14 N

0 6 38 E

Gotlo Isle, S. W. ext.

50 N

128

0 E

Hawk-hill, near Edinburgh

55 57 37 N

3 e 50W

Gouda

51 N

44 E

Hawkeslone obelisk

52 51 34 N

2 36 59W

Guula-Battou, rock

0 S

123

15 E

Hclbrc ligbt-liouse

53 23 34 N

3 10 I3W

Giadisca

30 N

0 E

Heligoland light-house

5 i II 34 N

7 53 13 E

G rado .

55 N

51 E

Helkinton

52 23 24 N

1 3 33W

Granby steeple

8isr

47W

Hclsinljorg

56 2 55N

12 43 15 E

Grand Combe dc Rois

36 N

15 E

Helsing-fors

60 10 ON

25 0 15 E

Grange, the point of

35 N

55 W

Helston steeple

50 6 15N

5 15 29 W

<iraoharum lighthouse

50 N

10 E

Hclvellyn mountain

54 31 43 N

3 0 2IW

Granville

16N

57VV

Helvoet-sluys

51 49 29 N

14 7 53 E

Grasse

19 N

24 E

Henley steeple

51 32 21 N

0 53 48VV

Gratz

15 E

Henlopen Cape

38 46 ON

75 12 15W

Gravelines

ION

50 E

Henry, cape

36 57 9N

76 31 15W

Gravesend

20 N

45 E

Hcraclea

41 1 3N

27 54 34 E

Gravois point

16VV

Hcrenthals

51 10 45 N

4 50 29 E

Gray's harbour

123

OVV

Hermit Isles

1 28 30 S

145 7 35 E

Greenwich Observatory

40 N

Hcrnosand Isle

62 38 ON

17 53 IS E

Gregory Cape

124

sow

Hcrvey Isle

19 17 OS

138 47 45 W

Griefs walde

35 N

15 E

Hesseloe

56 11 46 N

11 40 1 E

Grenaae

57 N

59 E

Hlghburv-house

51 33 13 N

0 5 SOW

Grenada, Fort

54 N

High Pike

54 42 27 N

3 2 49W

Grenoble

42 N

49 E

Hilary, St, steeple

50 9 23N

S 23 2W

Grodno

SON

45 E

Hinchinbrock, cape

60 12 30 N

145 39 20W

Gronskar

50 N

30 E

Hioring

57 27 44 N

10 0 28 E

Gronais isle

Hoaiagnan

33 34 40 N

118 49 45 E

Guacara

23 N

15W

Hoapinsu, isle

25 49 39 N

122 40 0 E

Guadalonp isle

118

48 W

Hoborg, cape

56 56 ON

18 11 0 E

Guadaioup

SON

Hogsties, isles, most eastern

21 38 SON

73 56 4W

Guaduas

58W

Hogstracten

51 24 sN

4 45 48 E

Guaira

19N

45 W

Hola

65 44 ON

19 43 45 W

Guaisabon, sugar loaf

46 N

32W

Holy Isle castle, flagstaff

55 40 20 N

1 46 38W

Guanaxuato

15N

100

45 W

Honda

5 11 42 N

74 53 30W

Guastalla

58 N

46 E

Hondschotte

50 58 56 N

2 35 14 E

(iuayaquil, town of

21 N

15W

rionfleur

49 25 13 N

0 14 14 E

Gueldres

43 N

9 E

Hood point

34 23 ON

119 49 0 E

Giiibert, port

134

SOW

Hooglede

50 58 44N

3 5 0 E

Guildford steeple

Hops harl)oiir

33 55 17 S

121 54 50 E

Guntherberg

37 N

30 E

Hope, Cape of

9 31 33 S

159 41 SO E

Gunzburg

15N

30 E

Horn, Cape

55 58 30 S

67 21 14W

Gurief

30 E

Hua!ieine Isle

16 42 45 S

151 10 45W

Gwynier steeple

17N

Hudwicks-vall

61 43 45 N

17 7 59 E

Hueliuitoca

19 48 39 N

99 11 40W

Haarlem

56 N

19 E

Huiddings-oe,

59 3 54N

5 25 15 E

lladdenham spire

20 N

26 E

Hulst

51 16 53N

4 3 27 E

Hadcrsleben

15 N

49 E

Hume castle

55 40 5 N

2 27 saw

Hafringe lighthouse

40 N

30 E

Huntingdon steeple

52 20 27 N

Oil 3W

Hague

SON

47 E

Hurst castle

50 42 23 N

1 32 4nv

Haiberstadt

55 N

33 E

Husum

54 28 59 N

9 4 42 E

llaldon obelisk

27 W

Hyeres

43 7 2N

6 7 55 E

Halifax

45W

Hallands-Vadero

56-N

30 E

lakutsk

62 1 SON

129 42 30 E

Halle

2 E

Ibagua

4 27 45 N

75 30 OW

Halmstadt

45 N

0 E

Ibarra

0 21 ON

78 18 34W

Halsall spire

11 N

24 W

lena

SO 56 28 N

11 37 15 E

Hamburgh

51 N

35 E

leniseisk

58 27 17 N

91 58 45 E

Hanieln

29 N

5 E

Iglau

49 23 29 N

15 36 15 E

Hammarshus

30 E

Ilchester steeple

51 0 23N

1 40 14W

Hammtrsfort

22 N

SO E

Illon steeple

50 57 9N

2 54 48W

Hango-Udd, isle and cape

20 N

45 E

Inist

47 14 20 N

10 43 45 E

Hano

30 E

Inague, the greater, W. point

21 3 41 N

72 47 28W

Hanover

25 N

55 E

Inague, the lesser, E. point

21 29 ON

73 1 28 W

Haradskar

SON

0 E

Ingoldstadt

48 45 47 N

Jl 25 51 E

Plardwick spire

55 N

Ingleborough hill

54 10 4N

2 23 ISW

Harefield

ION

45 E

Ingornachoix

50 37 17 N

57 15 15W

Ilarlingen

32 N

47 E

Inichi

42 0 26N

33 56 30 E

Hartland point

22 N

26W

Inselberg, mountain

50 51 35 N

10 28 IS E

Hastings

ION

25 E

Inspruck

47 16 8N

11 23 45 E

Havannah

27 N

53 E

Ipsera Isle, south point

38 30 ON

25 56 SO E

GEOGRAiMlY.

637

Names of Places.

l.alittnic

o / ft

T.nnj^'lUulc.
o / "

Karnes of Places.

Lalitiicle.

O 1 II

LongiUidc.
o 1 It

Ii-kiltch

52 16 41 N

104 11 50 E

Krementzouk

49 3 28 N

33 29 0 E

Irois, the point of

18 22 23 N

74 35 40 W

Kritch Sjjire

53 15 43 N

1 7 low

Isabeliciue, the point

19 50 43 N

71 16 35 W

KuUcn, tlie lighthouse

56 18 3N

12 35 45 E

Islamabad

22 20 0 N

91 45 15 E

Kumi

24 33 13 N

123 19 43 E

Ismail

45 21 oN

28 50 15 E

Kursk

51 43 30 N

36 27 4S E

Isola Bella

45 53 11 N

8 32 3 E

Kyloe steeple

55 39 36 N

1 54 39 W

Ispahan

52 24 34 N

5 1 50 15 E

Issclburgh

51 50 29 N

6 26 22 E

Labiau

54 51 20N

21 6 45 E

Istacalco

19 23 44 N

99 4 30 W

Ladrone Isles, the greatest

22 2 ON

113 55 15 E

Istapalapa

19 22 19 N

99 3 0 W

Lagos

37 ^ oN

8 38 3W

Ives, St, steeple

52 20 19 N

0 4 45 AV

Lagos

40 58 42 N

25 3 36 E

Ivica, Isle, castle

38 53 16 N

1 29 12 E

Laholm

56 32 38 N

13 1 0 E

Lamanon peak

47 45 ON

141 52 45 E

•Jackson, Port, Sydney Cove

33 51 3 S

152 12 15 E

Lambhuus

64 6 I 7 N

21 55 15W

Jagua

2 10 19 N

75 35 59 W

Lampsacus

40 20 52 N

26 36 55 E

Jahcle

53 20 45 N

8 12 43 E

Lancaster

40 2 39 N

76 10 30\V

Jaroslawl

57 37 30 N

40 10 15 E

Lancaster steeple

54 3 8 N

2 47 41 W

Jassy

47 8 30 N

27 30 15 E

Lancerotte Isle, east point

29 14 ON

13 25 45\V

Jenikola

45 21 ON

36 26 45 E

Landsberg

48 2 58 N

10 53 31 E

Jeremiah, point

18 39 57 N

74 13 22 W

Landscroon

55 52 27 N

12 46 IE

Jersey Isle, from St Avibin

49 12 59 N

2 10 44 W

Land's End, at Stone

50 4 7 N

5 41 32W

Jerusalem

31 47 47 N

35 20 15 E

Landsorbe lightiiouse

58 43 56 N

17 52 0 E

Jever

53 34 28 N

7 52 45 E

Langle, peak of

45 1 I 0 N

141 13 13 E

Johannisberg

53 37 48 N

21 49 15 E

Langle, bay of

48 59 ON

142 33 4 E

Johnston steeple

51 45 17 N

4 58 41 W

Langres

47 51 59 N

5 20 5 !•:

Jonas, peak of

56 25 30 N

143 15 45 E

Langtree steeple

50 55 58 N

4 11 24W

Juan Fernandez, Isle

33 40 0 S

78 58 15 W

Lansdown monument

5 1 25 29 N

2 22 22W

Judembourg

47 43 20 N

14 42 45 E

Laon

49 33 54 N

3 37 27 E

Larneca, tlie castle

34 54 30 N

33 40 45 E

Kaisersheim

48 45 52 N

10 47 58 E

Largo Law

56 14 15 N

2 54 52W

Kallandburg

55 40 54 N

11 6 33 E

Latikia

35 32 30 N

35 44 15 E

Kaliii^a

54 30 ON

35 5 15 E

Laubach

46 1 48 N

14 46 40 E

Kaminiek

48 40 50 N

27 1 30 E

Lausanne

46 31 5 N

6 45 30 E

Kamyschin

50 5 6 N

45 24 15 E

Lavaur

43 40 52 N

1 49 IS E

Kasan

55 47 51 N

49 21 9 E

Leasowes lighthouse

53 24 50 N

3 6 49 \V

Kaskon

62 22 10 N

21 10 35 E

Lecluse

5 1 18 35 N

3 23 9 E

Katwik-sur-Mer

52 12 15 N

4 23 35 E

Lectoure

43 55 54 N

Kanf Beuren

47 53 30 N

10 26 45 E

Ledstone beacon

53 46 31 N

I 18 47W

Kelshall steeple

52 0 29 N

0 3 5 1 ■W

Leeds

53 48 0 N

0 57 25 E

Kerguelen isle, cape George

49 54 30 S

70 12 15 E

Leer

53 13 49 N

I 34 OW

Kerguelen, harbour of Noel

48 41 15 S

69 2 15 E

Lefao

9 12 15 S

124 15 15 E

Kew oljservatory

51 28 -37 N

0 1 6 45 W

Legnago

45 11 18 N

10 59 13 E

Kiam-Cheu

35 37 ON

111 29 30 E

Legliorn

43 33 5 N

10 16 45 E

Kiel

54 19 43 N

10 8 18 E

Leicester

52 38 0 N

1 3 SOW

Kilrenny spire

56 14 17 N

2 40 35 W

Leigh steeple

51 13 28 N

2 25 58W

Kingston steeple

50 18 54 N

3 51 40 "W

Leipsic

51 20 1 6 N

12 21 45 E

Klow

50 27 0 N

30 27 45 E

Leiva

5 30 ON

73 54 52W

Kiringskoi-Ostrog

57 47 ON

108 3 0 E

Le Mans

48 0 30 N

0 11 35 E

Kirk Newton »

55 54 30 N

3 25 0 W

]>eon, Isle of

36 27 45 N

6 12 OW

Kirkby Lonsdale steeple

54 12 18 N

2 35 15 W

Leona, Isle of

14 6 OS

169 16 22 W

Kittis

66 48 20 N

54 3 15 E

Le Puy

45 25 2 N

3 53 36 E

Klagenfurth

45 37 10 N

14 20 0 E

Lescar

43 19 32 N

0 25 52W

Kfin

56 20 18 N

36 48 6 E

Levata Isle, south point of

36 59 0 N

26 16 45 E

Kola

68 52 30 N

33 0 45 E

Lewin Cape

34 25 50 S

115 55 1 5 E

Kongelf

57 51 45 N

11 59 0 E

Leyden

52 9 30 N

4 29 13 E

Kongsback

57 27 ON

12 7 0 E

Libau

56 31 36 X

20 55 20 E

Konigsberg

54 42 12 N

20 29 15 E

Lichtenau

51 37 24 N

8 54 7 E

Konswinger

60 12 11 N

1 I 58 0 E

Liege

SO 39 22 N

5 31 42 E

Korn Neuburg

48 21 22 N

16 19 0 E

Lilienthal

53 8 30 N

8 54 15 E

Koslow

45 11 54 N

53 22 48 E

Lima

12 2 34 S

77 7 SOW

Kostroma

57 45 40 N

41 12 51 E

Limoges

45 49 53 N

1 15 23 E

Kovima, the lower

68 IS ON

163 18 15 E

Limpjada

40 36 43 N

23 43 47 E

Kovima, the upper

65 28 on;

153 35 15 E

Lincoln Minster

53 14 7N

0 32 IW

Krageroe

58 51 35 N

9 30 42 E

Lindes Noess, or Derneus s

57 58 0 N

7 6 15 E

Krannichfeld

50 51 55 N

11 11 45 E

Lintz

48 18 54 N

14 16 45 E

Krasnoyars

56 1 2 N

92 20 52 E

Lisbon observatory

38 42 I 8 N

9 7 33W

Krembs

48 21 30 N

15 36 0 E

Liskeard

SO 26 55 N

4 41 SOW

638

GEOGHAPHY.

Names of Places.

Latitude.

o / II

Longitude.

0 / II

Names of Places.

Latitude.

O 1 n

Longitude.

a 1 II

Litchfield spire

52 41 12 N

1 49 21 W

Maria, Cape

18 37 20 N

74 33 32W

Little Port

52 27 59 N

0 18 40 E

Maricnburgh

54 1 31 N

19 1 56 -E

Little Brickhill steeple

51 58 59 N

0 40 2lW

Markoe

57 59 10 N

6 59 15 E

Liverpool, St Paul's

53 24 40 N

2 58 55W

Marikan Isle

46 50 ON

152 30 15 E

Li/aid Cape lighthouse

49 57 44 N

5 11 SW

Marmora Isle

40 37 4 N

27 30 50 E

Lizieux

49 8 50 N

0 13 47 E

Marseilles observatory

43 17 49 N

5 22 15 E

Llanelly steeple

51 41 2 N

4 8 41W

Marstrand lighthouse

57 53 51 N

11 36 0 E

Loampit-hill

51 28 7 N

0 1 OVV

Martinique, Port de France

14 35 49 N

61 5 45W

Lodcve

43 43 47 N

3 19 3 E

Martin-Vas, Isles of

20 30 OS

27 59 44W

Lodi

45 18 31 N

9 30 52 E

Masafuero

33 45 30 S

80 37 15W

Loheia

15 42 8 N

42 18 45 E

Maskelyne Isle

16 32 OS

167 48 21 E

Lombez

43 28 30 N

0 54 24 E

Matance, Peak of

23 1 39 N

81 45 2W

Lomond top, east

56 14 44 N

3 12 33W

Matapan, Cape

36 23 .,20 N

22 29 30 E

Lomond top, west

56 14 57 N

3 17 4W

Mataro .

41 32 23 N

2 26 48 E

London, St Paul's

51 30 49 N

0 5 30W

Matifou, Cape

36 51 10 N

3 12 35 E

Looz, Isle of

9 27 ON

13 20 45 W

Matsumay

41 32 ON

140 4 0 E

Lopatka, Cape

51 0 ISN

156 42 45 E

May, Isle of, south point

15 6 0 N

23 9 45W

Loretto

43 27 ON

13 35 5 E

May, Isle of, lighthouse

56 11 22 N

2 32 47 W

L'Orient

47 45 1 1 N

3 21 2W

Maypures

5 13 32 N

68 17 15W

Louisbourg

45 53 40 N

59 55 45W

Meaux

48 57 40 N

2 52 45 E

Louisiada, Cape of

1 1 20 42 N

128 20 55 E

Meiningen

SO 35 26 N

10 24 13 E

Louvain

SO S3 26 N

4 41 46 E

Melille

35 18 15 N

2 56 low

Lubeck

53 51 18 N

8 40 52 E

Memel

55 24 15 N

21 8 3 E

Lubni

50 0 37 N

33 3 45 E

Mende

44 30 42 N

3 29 34 E

Lucipara

3 10 45 S

106 17 45 E

Mendocin, Cape

40 29 ON

124 29 15W

Lucon

46 27 15 N

1 9 45VV

Merguy

12 12 ON

98 18 15 E

Lugano

45 59 S6 N

8 57 35 E

Metz

49 r 10 N

6 10 28 E

Lugo

43 0 4N

7 34 low

Mcwstone

50 18 30 N

4 5 33W

Luhvorth flagstaff

50 39 19 N

2 18 28W

Mewstone

43 48 OS

146 27 15 E

Lunde

58 27 10 N

6 36 6 E

Mexico

19 25 45 N

99 5 ISW

Lunden, tower

55 42 26 N

13 12 42 E

Mexicalcingo

19 21 22 N

99 4 30W

Luxembourg

49 37 38 N

6 9 41 E

Michael's, St, Mount

50 7 2 N

5 27 33W

Lyme

50 43 ION

2 75 29 W

Middleburg

51 30 6 N

3 37 30 E

Lyons

45 45 58 N

4 49 24 E

Milan observatory

45 28 2 N

9 11 45 E

Milford steeple

51 42 43 N

5 20 13W

Milo Isle, the harbour

36 42 30 N

24 13 32 E

Mirepoix observatory

43 5 7 N

1 52 26 E

Macao

22 12 44 N

113 35 15 E

Mispalu Isle

0 19 15 S

132 7 18 E

Macclesfield, bank

15 51 ON

IH 18 15 E

Mittau

56 39 6 N

23 43 27 E

Macerata

43 18 36 N

13 26 15 E

Mocha

13 16 ON

43 10 15 E

Macon

46 18 27 N

4 50 8 E

Mogana Isle, N. E. point

22 18 ON

72 46 OW

Madeira, west point

32 37 40 N

16 55 45 W

Mohilew

53 54 ON

30 24 45 E

Madras, Fort St George

13 4 54N

80 29 0 E

Mole, St Nicholas

19 49 20 N

73 29 33W

Madrid, great square

40 24 57 N

3 42 15W

Monance, St, spire

56 12 24 N

2 45 37W

Maestricht

50 5 1 7 N

5 41 IE

Mongat Fort

41 27 50 N

2 1* 45 E

Magdeburg

52 8 4N

11 38 59 E

Mongon Cape, from tower

42 6 34 N

3 10 29 E

Mahe, on Seichelles Isle

4 38 0 S

55 85 15 E

Moiiopin mountain

2 3 0 S

105 22 45 E

Mahon, Cape of Mola

39 51 10 N

4 25 28 E

Montaigu

50 58 56 N

4 59 IE

Mahouna Isle

14 20 4S S

170 16 35W

Montalto

42 59 44 N

13 35 29 E

Maisy,Cape

20 1 6 40 N

74 7 53W

Montacute signal-staff

50 57 2 N

2 42 44W

Malacca

2 12 ON

102 5 15 E

Montauban observatory

44 0 55 N

1 20 « E

Malaga

36 43 30 N

4 25 2W

Montdcgo, Cape

40 12 6 N

8 53 9W

Malvern Hill

52 6 18 N

2 19 47W

Monte Christo

4? 20 26 N

10 18 10 E

Maldonado

34 56 19 S

54 51 SW

Monte Figo

37 9 40 N

7 40 9W

Malespina, Cape

43 42 15 N

141 19 0 E

Monterey

36 35 45 N

121 51 6W

Malines

51 1 52 N

4 28 59 E

Monte Video

34 54 48 S

56 14 SOW

Mallieda, Port Sandwich

16 25 20 N

167 32 6 E

Mont Lauro

42 45 47 N

8 57 22W

Malmoe

55 36 37 N

13 1 19 E

Montpellicr observatory

43 36 16 N

3 52 40 E

Malouine Isles, see Falkland

Isles.

Monte Rosa

45 55 56 N

7 52 32 E

Malta, from the town

35 S3 41 N

14 30 45 E

Montsein, the most northern

Manchester, St Mary's spire

53 29 ON

2 14 22W

peak

41 28 48 N

2 17 30 E

Mandal

58 0 42 N

7 28 45 E

Montserrat, the highest peak

41 38 59 N

1 46 7 E

Mandiy, harbour of

37 44 ION

23 48 45 E

Montserrat Isle, N. E. point

16 47 35 N

62 13 25W

Mangca Isle

21 56 45 S

158 2 45W

Monza

45 34 41 N

9 17 11 E

Manheim observatory

49 29 18 N

8 28 0 E

Morales

8 15 30 N

74 1 OW

Manilla

14 36 ON

120 58 15 E

Morant Point

17 57 45 N

76 15 8W

Mantua

45 9 16 N

10 48 12 E

Morotay Isle

21 10 ON

161 57 15 E

Marburg

46 34 42 N

15 43 0 E

Moitory Isle

41 4 42 N

9 36 26 E

Margueritta Isle, Cape Macan J 1 3 30 N

64 27 ISW

Morup Tange

56 55 57 N

12 21 45 E

GEOGRAPHY.

639

Names of Places.

Latitude.

0 1 II

Lonpitude.

Of II

Names of Places.

Latitude.

0 1 II

Lonrilude.

0 / f

Moscow

55 45 45 N

37 33 0 E

Nuremberg

49 24 55 N

11 .» 15 E

Mosdok

43 43 40 N

43 50 15 E

Nurtingen

48 37 36 N

9 19 30 E

Mote steeple

51 53 33 N

4 47 55W

Mouchoircav

21 0 ON

70 57 SOW

Ocanna

39 56 33 N

3 30 51 W

Moulins, point of

36 37 15 N

4 28 SOW

Odcmira, the bar

38 39 ON

8 50 27W

Moxillories

23 5 0 S

70 25 15W

Odessa

46 29 30 N

30 45 22 E

Mowee isle, E. point

20 50 30 N

156 2 SOW

Ocrubro

59 17 I2N

15 13 20 E

Mulgrave harbour

59 34 17 N

139 42 6W

Oiielcma Isle

22 27 OS

150 46 45 W

Mulhausen

51 12 59N

10 28 45 E

Ohitaliou Island

9 55 SO S

139 8 25W

Mullieim

47 48 40 N

7 37 38 E

Okhotsk

59 20 iON

143 13 45 E

Mumbles lighthouse

51 34 ON

S 57 20W

Ok >sir Isle

42 9 ON

139 30 0 E

Munich

48 8 20N

11 34 30 E

Oldenburg

53 8 40N

8 14 35 E

Muiister

51 58 ION

7 36 21 E

Oleron

43 11 IN

0 36 ISW

Musquito Cove

64 55 13N

52 56 SOW

Olinda

8 13 0 S

35 5 ISW

Muyden

52 19 48 N

5 4 15 E

Olonne

46 29 52 N

1 47 50W

Muzo

5 24 ON

74 22 52W

Onehecow Isle

21 49 SON

160 13 ISW

Oonalaska Isle

53 54 45 N

105 26 45W

Naerden

52 17 49 N

5 9 50 E

Oporto

41 8 56N

0 36 9W

Namur

50 28 30 N

4 51 7 E

Oran, castle of St Croix

35 44 27 N

0 39 24W

Nancy

48 41 55 N

6 10 31 E

Orange

44 8 lON

4 48 23 E

Nangasaki

32 45 50 N

129 52 7 E

Orchilla Isle

11 52 ON

66 5 46W

Nankin

32 4 40N

118 47 15 E

Oregrund

60 20 ON

18 26 SO E

Nantes

47 13 6N

1 22 44W

Orel

52 54 40 N

35 57 15 E

Naples

40 SO 15 N

14 15 45 E

Orenburgh

51 46 SN

55 4 45 E

Narbonne

43 11 22 N

3 0 22 E

Orlord, Cape

42 52 ON

124 25 OW

Narva ,

59 22 53 N

28 14 30 E

Orizava peak

19 2 17N

97 15 OW

Narvase Isle

18 22 19 N

75 7 45W

Orleans

47 54 12 N

1 54 41 E

Naseby steeple

52 23 52 N

0 59 3W

Orleans, New

29 57 45 N

89 58 SOW

Necker, Isle of

23 34 ON

164 31 45W

Ormskirk spire

53 34 12 N

2 52 36 W

Needles, lighthouse

50 39 53 N

1 33 55W

Oropesa, Cape

40 5 33 N

0 8 25 E

Neschin

51 2 45 N

31 49 45 E

Orrengrund

60 15 ON

26 35 5 E

Neustadt

47 48 27 N

15 13 32 E

Orsk

51 12 SON

58 31 0 E

Nevers

46 59 17 N

3 9 31 E

Ortegal, Cape

43 46 40 N

7 54 OW

New Year's HarbouP

54 48 54 S

64 0 14W

Orwell pole

52 5 41 N

0 0 1 E

Newark

53 55 19 N

8 31 24 E

Osimo

43 29 36 N

13 27 23 E

Newark steeple

53 4 30N

0 49 18W

Osnaburgh

52 16 35 N

8 1 11 E

Newmarket

52 15 28N

0 27 12 E

Ostaschoff

57 9 40N

33 12 21 E

Newnham, Cape

58 41 SON

162 19 15W

Ostend

51 13 57N

2 55 8 E

New York

40 40 ON

73 58 37 E

Osterode

51 44 15 N

10 16 54 E

34 26 OS

173 1 30 E

Oster Risoer

58 42 S3N

9 19 55 E

Idem. South Cape

47 19 OS

167 8 15 E

Ost Hammar

60 14 SON

18 23 30 E

Nice

43 41 16N

7 16 35 E

Otchakof

46 37 29 N

31 26 15 E

Nidingen

57 18 21 N

11 55 0 E

Otaheite Isle

9 55 30 S

5 3 6W

Nieuport

51 7 54N

2 45 15 E

Ouessant Isle

48 28 8 N

166 26 45 W

Nieves Isle, S. point

17 5 12N

62 33 21 W

Owyhee Isle, north point

20 17 ON

155 58 45W

Nimeguen

51 51 20N

5 50 51 E

Oxford observatory

51 45 40 N

1 15 SOW

Nismes

43 50 8N

4 21 15 E

Ningpo, on the Liampo

29 57 45 N

120 18 15 E

Paderborn

51 43 37 N

8 43 51 E

Nizhnei, NovogoroJ

56 19 43 N

44 28 30 E

Padua observatory

45 24 2 N

11 52 45 E

Nizhnei, Oudinsk

54 55 22 N

99 1 45 E

Paimbeut

47 17 15 N

2 1 SIW

Nocera

43 6 40N

12 46 17 E

Paix, port de

19 55 ON

72 53 SOAV

Noel, isle of

1 57 45N

157 34 4SW

Palamos

41 51 ION

3 5 0 E

Noel, harbour of

55 21 54 S

69 47 14W

Palermo observatory

38 6 44N

13 22 0 E

Noirmoutier

47 0 5N

2 14 7W

Palk's Tower

50 39 53 N

S 34 46W

Norburg

55 3 53 N

9 45 52 E

Palma

39 34 4N

2 39 15 E

Nordingen

48 51 ON

10 28 30 E

Palma Isle, at Tassacorte

28 38 9N

17 57 4SW

Nordkoping

58 35 ON

16 11 0 E

Palos, Cape

37 37 15 N

0 41 OW

Norfolk isle

29 1 45N

168 10 15 E

Pamiers

43 6 44N

1 36 36 E

Norliam castle

51 43 29 N

2 8 SOW

Panipeluna

42 49 57 N

1 41 15W

Norriton

40 9 56N

75 33 SOW

Panama

8 58 SON

79 27 ISW

Norr Telge

59 45 45 N

18 39 0 E

Para

1 28 0 S

48 39 45 W

North Berwick Law, staff

56 3 8 N

2 42 IIW

Paris, imperial obsei*vatory

48 50 UN

2 20 15 E

Noto, Cape

37 39 12 N

137 35 0 E

Do. Obs. Coll. of Fran.

48 SO 58 N

2 20 15 E

Nottingham steeple

52 57 8N

1 8 14W

Do. Ob. Palace of Arts

48 51 29 N

2 20 45 E

Novara

45 26 38 N

8 37 46 E

Do. Obs. ofthe Mil. School

48 51 6N

2 18 15 E

Novogorod

58 31 32 N

31 16 24 E

Do. Obs. of Mesier

48 51 4N

2 20 17 E

Nootka Sound

49 35 15 N

126 36 46W

Do. Obs. of Delambre

48 51 38 N

2 21 32 E

Noyon

49 34 42 N

3 0 50 E

Parkham steeple

50 58 UN

4 18 SlW

640

GEOGRAPHY.

37 N

12 N
8 57N

8 N
20 N

13 N

3N
1 N
ON

40 N

Names of Places. Latitude.

Parma

Pasto

Patience Cape

Patrixfiord 65 35 45 N

Pavia 45 10 47 N

Peel castle 54 3 49 N

Pekin, Imperial Obscrv. 39 54 13 N

Pelew Isles at Ourolong 7 18 ON

Pello 66 48 16 N

Pembroke Cape 62 57 ON

Pendeniiis Castle 50 8 49 N

Penicho, Cape Corvoeiio 39 21 48 N

Peniscola 40 22 40 N

Penlec 50 19 24 N

Penrith beacon 54 50

Pera, Cape of 39 42

Perekop 46

Pcrigueux 45 i i

Perinaldo 43 53

Perm 58 1

Perotta 19 32 54 N

Perouse 43 6 46 N

Perpignan 42 42

Pesaro 43 55

Petatlan, Morro dc 17 32

Peterboroiigb cathedral 52 35

Pctersburgh 59 56 23 N

Petropaulowskoi 53 0

Petrosawods 61 47

Pettau 46 26 21 N

Pet worth 50 54 12 N

Pevensey 50 49 1 1 N

Philadelphia 39 56 55 N

Philipville 50 1 1 19 N

Philippine 51 16 55 N

Philipsburgh 49 14 1 N

Piacenza 45 2 44 N

Pico, isle of, the peak 38 27 0 N

Pickersgill, harbour

Pilares, Cape

Pilier, Isle of 47 2 32 N

Pillau 54 33 39 N

Piombino 42 55 27 N

Pisa 45 43 1 1 N

Pitcairn Isle 25 22 0 S

Pittenvveem spire 56 12 48 N

Planier, isle of 43 11 54 N

Plata, La 2 23 0 S

Plymouth

Plynlymmon

Poictiers

Pollingen

Polotz

Pondichcrry

Ponoi

Poole

PopayaiT

Popo Isle

Porkala udd. Cape

Porquerolles, citadel

Port Royal

Port au Prince

Portland, upper lighthouse

Portland, isle of

Portland isles, the most eastern

Porto

Porto Hello 9 33 9 N

Porto Cabiwlia 10 23 22 N

I-onpltu(le.

44 48 IN 10 26 45 E
1 13 6N 77 21 25W

48 52 0 S H4 46 43 K

116

134

38 W
4 8 K

41 W
43 E

40 15 E
23 58 30 E
81 59 45 W
5 1 44W
9 23 56W
0 29 30 \V
4 10 40 W

2 43 59W

3 31 40 E
33 42 9 E

0 43
7 44

34 E
0 E

56 26 30 E
97 13 24W
12 22 13 E

2 54 9 E
12 53 36 E

101 20 39\V

0 14 45 W

30 18 45 E

15 N 158 49 0 E

4 N 34 23 45 E

15 59 26 E

0 34 9W

0 20 29 E

75 11 30\V

4 32 34 E

3 45 27 E

8 26 49 E

9 42 32 E
28 28 15W

45 47 27 S 166 18 24 E

52 45 OS 74 51 14W

2 21 5W

19 52 30 E

10 31 2 E

10 24 0 E

133 20 45 \V

2 43 2W

50 22 24 N
52 28 3 N

46 35 0 N

47 48 17 N
55 28 56 N
11 55 4t N
67 4 33 N
50 42 50 N

2 26 13 N
1 15 45 S
59 56 10 N
42 59 48 N
IS 0 ON
18 33 42 N
50 31 22 N
63 22 ON

5 14

75 51

4 7

3 46

0 20 43
119 0
23 43
79 51
9

41
I

1 E

5W
IW

4W
E
E

0 E
45 E

15W

58 55 E

54W
30 E

129 41

24 26 35 E

6 12 15 E

76 43 15\V

72 27 IIW

2 26 5(iW

18 53 45 W

2 36 0 S 149 39 0 E

41 45 44N 12 14 23 E

79 35 15\V

68 16 45W

Names of Places.

Porto Ferrajo

Porto Galatc

Porto Rico Island, the town

Porto Rico, Cape, St John, E.

Porto Rico, Coh e a Morts

Porto Rico, N. W point

Porto Santo, Isle of

Porto V^ecchio

Portsmouth Academy

Portsmouth, America

Prague

Prasliri port

Prater's lianks, N. E. ex.

Prater's Banks, S. W. ex.

Presbourg

Prescot spire

Princes, Isle of, harbour

Idem
Prince Edward's Isle
Prior Cape
Providence
Providence Isle, Nassau

Quebec

Quedlingburg

Queensberry Hill

Quelpaert Isle

Queretaro

Quimper

Quito

R
Ramhead

Ramsey Island, highest part
Randers

Raoul Isles, N. W. point
Ratisbon - ■
Ratmanoff Cape
Rauma
Ravenna
Razat, Cape
Raze, Cape
Real Corona
Recpnati

Research, port of
Remedies, port de
Rennes
Rendsburg
Retford, east spire
Reyes, point of
Revel

Rhe, Isle of, lighthouse
Rheims
Rhodez
Richmond
Riesenkuppe
Rieux
Ritz
Riga
Rimiiii

Riobamba, Nuevo
Rio Janeiro, the castle
Ripatransone
Ripon church
Roca, Cape
Rochefort
Rochelle
Rndota
Rodrigo Isle

Latitu

de.

I/)n|»itmlo,

0 9

0 1 n

42 49

10 19 35 E

43 20

ION

3 5 20\V

18 29

ION

66 13 15W

'. 18 26

65 43 15W

17 50

66 38 I5W

18 31

18 N

66 12 18 W

33 5

16 17 15W

41 35

29 N

9 16 37 E

50 48

1 6 IW

43 4

I5N

70 43 0\V

50 5

19 N

U 25 l^E

4 49

27 S

153 6 45 E

20 57

30 N

116 57 45 E

20 42

116 40 15 E

48 8

17 10 45 E

53 25

45 N

2 47 44W

1 %7

7 40 15 E

6 36

15 S

105 15 15 E

46 46

0 S

37 55 0 E

43 34

15N

8 22 OW

41 50

40 N

71 19 45W

25 4

33 N

77 22 6\V

46 47 SON 71 9 45 W
5 1 47 58 N 11 7 39 E
55 17 2 N 3 34 47 W
33 7 59 N 126 18 57 E
20 36 39 N 100 10 I5W

47 58 29 N 4 5 44W
0 13 17 S 78 45 15\V

50
51

56 27
29 15

49
51
61

44 25
33 4

45 40
8 0

43 25

43 32
57 24

48 6
54 18
53 23
38 0
59 26
56 14

49 14

44 21
51 28

50 43
43 15

43 48
56 57

44 3
1 41

22 54

43
54

0
8
38 45

45 56

46 9
40 58
19 40

52 N

43 N

48 N
45 S

53 N
30 N

26N

44 N
23 S
15N

SON

40 N
58 N

8N
33 N

49 N

41 N
8N
8N

18N

23 N
57 N

IN
43 N
46 N

2 S

24 N

inN
21N
31N
4jN

12
19

4
5

10 3

181 55

12 4

143 43

21 27

12 10
21 47
52 3
64 45

13 31
147 6
135 53

1 40

9 39

0 54

122 57

24 35

29 W
36 W

0 18
15 40

1 12
6 5

24
12

73 48
43 17

13 44
1 30

9 29

0 57

1 9
2r 25
63 1 1

32
55
30

5
51
51
15W

OW
23 E
15 E

50 E
47 W
53 E

3W
OW
9 E
23W
47 E
29 E
SOW
0 E
15 E
21 E
45 E

51 E
46AV
44W
45 E
47W
21 W
34 W

4o^v

31 E
45 E

GEOGKAPIIY.

641

Names of I'lacos

Latitude.

o 1 II

Longitude.

O / II

Names of I'luces.

I.atitiiclc.

0 1 II

Long'itude.
0 f II

RoinanzolT

45 25 SO N

141 34 30 E

St Lunaire, bay of

51_28 57 N

55 29 45W

Romberg

53 2G SON

141 4 4 45 K

St Malo

48 '39 3 N

2 1 IIW

RoiDC, St Pctei's

41 53 54 N

12 28 15 E

St iSlark, t!io cjpc of

19 2 1 8 N

12 54 52W

Ronaklsay, Ciipe

59 20 ON

2 45 15 W

St Marcou, isle

49 29 52 N

1 8 41 W

Roiidoe

62 24 35 N

5 35 40 E

St Martin de Rhe

46 12 1 8 N

1 21 52 W

Roseua

31 25 ON

30 28 20 E

St Martin, isle, N. W. point

18 4 26N

63 14 27W

Rosstil point, landmark

53 55 18 N

5 2 20W

St Matthicii, li!,'hthousc

48 19 34 N

4 45 39 W

Rot

47 59 24 N

12 8 45 E

St Micliel, the mountain

48 38 14 N

1 SO 24W

Rothenbui'gli

48 29 35 N

8 56 54 E

Idem, isle, west point

37 54 15 N

25 57 2W

Rotierdam

51 55 22 N

4 29 11 E

Idem, west point

37 54 13 N

26 5 ISW

Rouen

49 26 27 N

1 5 59 E

St Oilier

SO 44 52 N

2 15 12 E

Rour, Isle of

1 33 40 S

143 12 45 E

St I'apoul

43 19 43 N

2 38 25 E

Roverida

45 55 36 N

11 0 35 E

St Paul

23 33 10 S

46 39 low

Royan

45 37 28 N

1 1 17W

St Paul,trols Cliateaux ''

44 21 3 N

4 45 54 E

Royston steeple

52 2 53N

0 1 9W

St Paul de Leon

48 41 24 N

3 58 22 W

Rube, 01- Rypen

55 19 57N

8 47 20 E

St Polten

48 12 22N

15 36 7 E

RufHaw

55 13 16 N

1 45 13W

St Pons

43 31 34 N

2 43 52 E

Ruremonde

51 11 48N

5 59 1 4 E

St Quintin

49 SO 51 N

3 17 40 E

St Sebastian

43 19 30 N

1 58 SOW

Saba, middle of the Isle

17 39 SON

63 20 49W

St Thomas, isle, harbour of

18 20 30 N

65 3 6W

Sabionetta

44 59 47 N

10 30 5 E

St Thorn de Nue

S 8 11 N

63 55 15W

Sable, Cape of

43 23 45 N

65 29 45 W

St Thomas ra Guaya Isle, the

Sachalin Isle, N. point

54 24 30 N

142 46 30 E

road

0 20 ON

6 48 15 E

Sacratif, Cape

36 41 ON

3 27 OVV

St Tiopez

43 16 27 N

6 38 44 F.

Saddle Back

54 38 30 N

3 2 17W

St Valery sur Somme

50 11 21 N

1 37 51 E

Saeby

57 20 2N

10 33 9 E

St Vincent, cape

37 2 54N

8 58 39W

Saeloe lighthouse

58 21 ON

11 15 SO E

St Yago isle, la Praya

14 53 40 N

23 31 15W

Sagan

51 42 12 N

15 22 30 E

St Agnes, lighthouse

49 53 37 N

6 19 33 W

Sagewien Isle

0 56 45 S

130 S3 15 E

Sta. Barbara

34 24 ON

119 7 0 W

Saints, bay of

32 10 50 S

133 54 IS E

St Catherine isle, Fort Atom

27 21 58 S

48 3 45W

Salisbury spire

51 3 56N

1 47 24W

Idem, tower

50 35 33 N

1 12 5lW

St Andrew, Cape

36 36 30 N

34 32 45 E

Idem, isle

35 52 ON

27 39 45 E

St Anthony, Cape

21 54 ON

84 57 15\V

St Cathalina

10 53 50 S

162 26 45 E

Idem

36 52 30 S

56 47 I4W

St Clair, isle

30 45 15 N

129 54 15 E

Idem

38 49 50 N

0 9 30 E

St Croix, isle. Cape Byron

10 41 OS

166 4 45 E

Idem, port

45 2 30 S

65 48 44W

St Croix, harbour

17 44 8N

64 47 29W

St Anthony's Head

50 8 34N

4 59 3IW

St Domingo

18 28 40 N

69 59 37W

St Augustine, bay

23 35 29 S

43 9 15 E

St Elizabeth

48 30 17N

32 27 45 E

St Bartholemy Isle

17 53 30 N

63 0 15W

Sta. Fe

SO 12 ON

104 53 4SW

St Bertrand

43 1 27 N

0 34 19 E

Sta. Fe de Bogota

4 35 48 N

74 14 53W

St Bla, harbour

21 32 48 N

105 15 33W

St Helena, isle

15 55 OS

5 49 45W

St Brieuc

48 31 2 N

2 43 55 W

Sta. Maria, isle, S. E.- point

36 56 47 N

25 18 30W

St Carlos

1 53 42 N

67 38 15W

Idem, isle

49 57 SON

6 15 ISW

St Christoplier's Isle

17 19 SON

62 49 15W

Idem, cape

36 55 24N

7 47 I4W

St Claude

46 23 18 N

5 52 5 E

Sta. Martha

11 19 34N

74 8 SOW

St Diego

32 39 30 N

117 16 58W

Sta. Manza, tower

41 24 59 N

9 15 11 E

St Diez

48 17 27 N

6 56 54 E

Sta. Reparata, tower

41 14 7N

9 8 37 E

St Elie, mountain

60 17 35 N

140 51 6W

Saintes

15 51 25N

61 40 25 VV

St Esprit

14 56 8 S

166 59 6 E

Saintes

45 44 42 N

0 38 2W

St Eustathia Isle, road

17 29 ON

63 4 45W

Salagua

19 6 ON

104 28 OW

St Fiorcnzo

42 41 2N

9 17 43 E

Salamanca

20 40 ON

100 55 45W

St Flour

45 1 53 N

3 5 39 E

Salayer, north point

5 45 OS

120 25 15 E

St Frangais port

37 48 30N

122 8 OW

Sale, or Rabath

34 5 ON

6 42 45W

St Genest, tower of

43 22 ION

4 39 15 E

Salehhich

30 48 28 N

31 59 45 E

St George, ible,S. E. point

38 30 45 N

27 5 1 OW

Salizano, cape

55 10 45 N

32 8 10 E

Idem, cape

4 51 17 S

152 48 55 E

Salonica

40 38 7N

22 56 0 E

St Ines, cape

54 8 0 S

66 57 26W

Salou, cape

41 4 30 N

1 11 50 E

St Istrate, isle, S. E. point

39 30 15 N

24 45 30 E

Salzburg

47 48 ION

IS 1 24 E

St John, isle, east cape

18 20 30 N

64 47 9W

Salvages, Isles of

30 8 SON

15 54 45 W

Idem, fort

47 38 45 N

52 39 45W

Sanaana, isle, west point

23 9 ION

73 54 28W

Idem, cape

54 56 OS

63 57 OW

Idem, cape

19 16 26N

69 IS 35W

St Joseph

23 3 ISN

109 40 53W

Samara

48 29 35 N

35 20 15 E

St Juiien, harbour

49 8 0 S

67 43 14W

Saniisoe, isle

68 56 15 N

16 57 15 E

St Kivern

50 3 6N

5 4 8W

Sandwich, isle of

58 33 OS

26 45 45W

St Levan, point

50 3 54N

5 41 4W

Idem, Southern Thule

59 34 OS

27 44 45W

St Lizier

43 0 3 N

1 8 20 E

Sandy Cape

24 45 0 S 1

.53 9 IS E

Si Louis Fort, old

18 14 27N

73 39 9 E

Sandy Hook, lighthouse

40 25 OS

74 13 OW

St Lucas, cape

82 52 28 N 109 SO 23W

Sangaar, Cape

41 16 SON 140 14. 0 E

Vol. IX. Part H.

4, M

642

r.EOGRArilY.

Names of i'laces.

Tjalitiulp.

o t It

Longitude,
o '/ //

>."ames of Places.

Latitude.

O / II

Longitude.

0 / II

Santa

S 59 3 S

78 52 45W

SouIon,.isle Tulian

S 57 ON 1

121 15 45 E

Saiitona , iJg-
Sapala isle, east point 'Sf

43 26 50 N

3 20 27W

Sourabaya

7 14 23 S 112 41 28 E

10 4 SON

109 13 15 E

South Foreland, lighthouse

51 8 26N

1 22 6 E

Saratov

51 31 28 N

46 0 15 E

South Sea, castle

50 46 43 N

1 5 2W

SarislchefF, pealc
Sarlat

48 2 ON

152 52 36 E

South IMolton steeple

51 1 18 N

3 49 17W

44 53 20 N

1 13 4 E

Southcrncss point, landmark

54 52 SON

3 34 SSW

Sarot

40 36 37 N

26 42 17 E

Soutra hill pile

55 51 IN

2 45 6W

Savannah, lia;lilliouse

32 0 45N

80 56 45W

Sparogskaia-Sjcbza

41 31 35N

34 22 45 E

Savujisle, iioilh point

10 24 20 S

121 46 Z5 E

Spartel, Cape

35 48 40 N

5 50 lOW

Schiedam

51 55 9 N

4 24 0 E

Speard, Cape

47 31 22N

52 37 SsW

Schleswig

54 31 27N

9 33 57 E

Spccia

44 4 lON

9 52 0 E

Schkikenau

51 0 SON

14 26 30 E

Spichel, Cape

38 24 54N

9 12 32 W

Schnittlien

53 48 lON

21 27 42 E

Spire

49 18 51 N

8 26 16 E

Schreckhorn, mount

46 31 42 N

8 8 26 E

Spolctta

42 44 SON

12 35 46 E'

Sclivvats

47 22 50 N

1 1 39 30 E

Stade

53 36 32 N

9 28 34 E

Schweicliiitz

50 50 37 N

16 27 15 E

Standish spire

53 35 17N

2 39 4W

Schvvezingen

49 23 4N

8 24 19 E

Stanmore station

51 37 17N

0 20 saw

Scilly Bank

54 33 43 N

3 32 54 W

Stanque de Vares

43 47 25 N

7 39 'oW

Scou Isles, west extremity

50 52 ON

129 28 SOW

Staples, West, lighthouse

55 37 UN

1 38 51 W

Seez

48 36 23 N

0 10 59 E

Staples, East, lighthouse

55 38 9N

1 37 5W

Seievoe

55 52 55 N

11 10 25 E

Start Point

50 13 26 N

3 38 2lW

Selinginskoi Ostrog

51 6 6N

106 38 45 E

Stathern point

52 52 33 N

0 49 SOW

Selivrie

41 4 35N

28 11 3 E

Stavanger

58 58 20 N

5 56 45 E

Selsey
Senez

50 45 19 N

0 45 4lW

Stickhauscn

58 13 lON

7 36 30 E

43 54 40 N

6 24 20 E

Stockholm

59 20 31 N

18 3 30 E

Senlis

49 12 28 N

2 35 13 E

Stolberg

51 35 ON

10 56 53 E

Sens

48 11 55 N

3 16 59 E

Stralsund

54 19 ON

13 32 15 E

Set aval

38 28 54 N

8 53 32W

Strasburg

48 34 56 N

7 44 51 E

Sevastopool

44 41 30 N

33 15 35 E

Stretham steeple

52 21 41 N

0 13 48 E

Shaftsbiiry, Trinity steeple

51 0 24N

2 11 25W

Stromness Isle

58 56 ON

3 31 5W

Sheerness'

5 1 27 3N •

0 46 6 E

Stromstadt

58 55 30 N

11 12 0 E

Sheifhill beacon staff

54 52 59 N

1 34 23W

Stuttgard

48 46 15 N

9 11 0 E

Shields, North, steeple

55 0 48 N

1 26 27\V

Suez

29 59 6N

32 35 20 E

Shipunskoi Noss

52 55 ON

159 43 0 E

Suffren, bay of

47 51 ON

139 32 56 E

Sherburne, castle

51 39 25 N

0 57 15W

Sulphur Island

24 48 ON

141 20 15 E

Shoreham

50 50 ON

0 16 19W

Sunderland lighthouse

54 55 12 N

1 21 16W

Shrewsbury, St Chad's steeple

; 52 42 93 N

2 44 53W

Sunds-vall

62 22 SON

17 16 30 E

Siam

14 20 40 N

100 50 15 E

Survillc Cape

10 50 30 S

162 21 57 E

Sienna

43 22 ON

11 10 15 E

Sutton spire

53 7 36N

1 42 38W

Siezran ^

53 9 S3N

48 25 0 E

S waff ham spire

52 15 35 N

0 18 39 E

Sines, castle

37 57 30N

8 44 45W

Swansea castle

51 37 13N

3 55 32W

fiinganfu

34 16 45 N

108 57 0 E

Syene

24 5 23 N

32 54 34 E

Sinigaglia

43 43 16 N

13 1 1 45 E

Sinope

42 2 16N

34 41 15 E

Tacuba

19 31 ON

99 8 45W

Siout

27 13 UN

31 13 32 E

Taganrock

47 12 40 N

38 39 0 E

Sirevaag

58 29 40 N

5 44 15 E

Tagoniago Isle

39 0 SON

1 40 40 E

Sisteron

44 11 51 N

5 56 2 E

Tali Isle, point Venus

17 29 17 S

149 SO IsW

Skagen Cape, lighthouse

57 43 44 N

10 37 50 E

Talcaguana

36 42 21 S

73 39 12 W

Skanor

55 24 52 N

12 50 30 E

Talsain

52 13 8N

4 7 8W

Skiddaw mountain

54 39 12 N

3 8 9W

Tambow

52 43 44 N

41 45 15 E

Skudenas

59 8 45N

5 19 15 E

Tamerton, North, steeple

50 45 5N

4 22 44W

Slouch

51 30 20N

0 36 OW

Tanna Isle, port Resolution

19 32 25 S

164 39 41 W

Smafkald

50 44 36 N

10 26 IS E

Tara

56 54 31 N

74 0 18 E

Small's lighthouse

51 43 18 N

5 53 34W

Tarapia

41 8 24 N

29 0 45 E

Smeinagors

51 9 27 N

82 9 45 E

Tarbes

43 13 52 N

0 4 14 E

Smyrna

38 28 7N

27 6 48 E

Tariffe Isle

36 0 30N

5 35 15W

Snares, isle of

43 3 0 S

166 20 0 E

Tarquinio, peak

19 52 57 N

76 50 7W

Snea Fell

54 17 28N

4 26 46W

Tarragona

41 8 SON

1 15 30 E

Snies, castle of

37 5" 30N

13 33 15 E

Tarvcbtad

59 22 40 N

5 15 5 E

Snow don

53 4 9N

4 3 38\V

Tasco

18 S5 ON

99 29 45 W

Soder Arm, lighthouse

59 46 0 N

19 26 30 E

Tassi Isle

40 46 40 N

24 39 9 E

Soder Hamn

61 17 47 N

17 0 30 N

Taunton, St Mary's

51 0 59N

3 5 22W

Soissons

49 22 52 N

3 19 57 E

Tavastehus

61 3 ON

24 25 30 E

Sombrero

18 38 4N

63 31 46W

Tjvolara, tower of

40 54 46 N

9 43 28 E

Somersham steeple

52 23 46 N

0 0 0

Tcherliask

47 13 34 N

39 23 15 E

Sonderburgh

54 54 59 N

9 47 13 E

Tchukoskoi-Noss

64 14 SON

178 11 15 E

Sonderhauscn

51 22 33 N

10 45 21 E

Tedeles, Capo

36 57 ON

4 14 3 E

Soulhofen

47 31 7N

10 16 23 E

Teklenburgli

52 13 28 N

7 47 25 E

GEOGRAPHY.

64;

Names of Places.

Laliludc.

IiOngittiile

Numcs of Places.

Tciicdos Isle, north-cast pt.

39 51

15 N

25 53 0 E

TurI)aco

Tcnci-ilVc Isle, the pcaU

28 17

0 N

16 39 45 VV

Turin

Idem. Irom the mole St Croix

; 28 28

30 N

If) 16 45 W

Turks isles, Sandkcy

Teiccia Isle

38 38

10 N

27 12 40 VV

Turcr

Tci'nay, bay of

4.S 10

32 N

137 1 15 E

Twymbarlum mountain

Terracina

41 18

14 N

13 13 22 E

'I'ynemouth lighthouse

Tescuco

19 30

40 N

98 5 1 OW

Typa

Tewkesbury steeple

51 59

27 N

2 9 7W

Tyrnau

Thebes, ruins of

25 43

0 N

32 39 21 E

T hie Is

51 0

4 N

3 19 42 E

Udino

Tiirec Kinp;s Isle, the most E.

34 12

30 S

172 10 0 E

Uddevalla

Tiburon, Cape

18 19

25 N

74 34 OW

Ufa

Tilton on the Hill

52 38

46 N

0 51 45 W

Uffculme steeple

Timana

1 58

32 N

75 51 40\V

Ugborough spire

Tinian Isle

14 58

0 N

145 51 15 E

Ulietca, isle

Tobago Isle

11 6

0 N

60 49 45W

Ulm

Tobolsk

58 11

42 N

68 6 15 E

Umba

Toluca

19 15

19 N

99 21 30VV

Umhea

Tomepenila

5 31

2 S

78 36 22 W

Unst, isle

Tomsk

56 29

38 N

85 9 51 E

Uiitiefen, cape of

Toiidern

54 56

30 N

8 53 42 E

Upsal

Tongataboo Isle

21 7

35 S

175 12 59W

Urals

Tongres

50 47

7 N

5 27 43 E

Uraniburg

Tonningen

54 19

25 S

8 58 45 E

Urbino

Toothill telegraph

50 57

56 N

1 27 6W

Ust-Kamenorsk

Torulo

65 50

50 N

24 12 15 E

Utklippar

Torschock

57 2

9 N

35 3 15 E

Uto, isle,

Tortona

44 53

26 N

8 56 32 E

Ulreclit

Tortosa, tlie cathedral

40 48

46 N

0 33 0 E

Uzcs

Tortua, isle, S. E. point

120 3

33 N

72 42 55 W

Tortugaisle

10 59

0 N

65 34 13W

Vabres

Totma

60 8

0 N

60 41 15 E

Vaison

Totness steeple

SO 25

57 N

3 40 29W

Valdivia

Toul

48 40

32 N

5 53 16 E

Valence

Toula

54 11

40 N

7 31 6 E

Valentia

Tou Ion

43 7

9 N

5 55 41 E

Valladolid

Toulouse

43 35

46 N

1 26 36 E

Valparaiso

Tournay

50 36

20 N

3 23 17 E

Vannes

Tours

47 23

46 N

0 40 33 E

Varberg

Trafalgar, Cape

36 10

15 N

6 0 OW

Varna

Travemunde

53 57

46 N

10 51 40 E

Vavao isle

Trebizoiidc

41 2

41 N

39 28 0 E

Vence

Trecastle beacon

51 52

58 N

3 41 35\V

Veiidola, isle

Tregonning signal-staff

50 6

59 N

5 20 IW

Venice, St Mark

Treguier

48 46

54 N

3 13 35\V

Venloo

Trelleborg

55 22

14 N

13 10 30 E

Vera Cruz

Trent

46 6

26 N

11 3 45 E

Verden

Tres Forcas

35 27

55 N

2 56 low

Verdun

Treves

49 46

37 N

6 38 20 E

Verona observatory

Trevose Head

50 32

57 N

2 0 54W

Versailles

T riest

45 38

8 N

13 47 8 E

Vianna

Trincomalea

8 32

0 N

81 12 15 E

Vibora

Trinidad

2! 48

20 N

80 0 52 W

Vibor.a;

Trinity, isle

10 38

42 N

61 38 OW

Vicenza

Idem, isle

20 31

0 S

28 36 4tW

Vienna

Tripoli

34 26

25 N

35 44 20 E

Vienne

Idem

32 53

40 N

13 21 22 E

Vigcvano

Troyes

48 18

5 N

4 4 49 E

Vigo

Tvumpinglon steeple

52 10

45 N

0 6 58W

\'iila de Conde

Tiuxillo

S 6

9 S

79 3 2:W

Villa delPao

Tschirikoff, cape

32 14

15 N

131 41 30 E

Villach

Tschitschagofl', cape

30 56

45 N

130 36 30 E

\'illalpando

Idem

8 57

0 S

139 42 IIW

Ville Fvanche

Tso Ciioui

35 30

0 N

129 16 7 E

Virgin Gorda,east cape

Tsus Sinia isle, nortli point

34 40

SO N

129 27 7 E

Virgins Cape

Tubingen

48 31

10 N

9 3 35 E

^'iviers, observatory

Tulles

45 16

3 N

2 54 13 E

Voghera

Tunis, or Fondouc

36 47

59 N

10 11 15 E

\'ologda

I.:itiln(lf .

l.nnjjiuidc.

0 / «

O f If

10 18 5 X

75 21 38W

45 4 6 X

7 40 15 E

21 11 10 X

71 14 52 W

5f> 51 44 N

35 57 23 E

5 1 37 41 N

3 4 55W

55 1 21 N

1 24 31 W

22 9 20 N :

113 44 0 E

48 23 5 N

17 35 15 E

46 3 1 4 N

13 15 2 1-:

58 21 15 N

11 56 30 E

54 42 45 X

55 53 45 E

50 54 15 N

3 19 16W

50 23 13 N

3 50 53W

16 45 35 N

151 35 45W

48 23 20 X

9 59 6 E

66 44 30 N

34 13 0 E

66 4 0 X

20 22 30 E

60 40 0 X

0 46 45 W

52 32 30 X

143 14 SOW

59 51 50 X

17 39 0 E

51 11 0 X

51 35 30 E

55 54 38 N

12 42 59 E

43 43 36 X

12 37 5 E

49 56 45 X

82 40 15 E

55 58 OX

15 41 30 E

59 47 18 X

21 17 19 E

52 5 31 X

5 7 16 E

44 0 45 X

4 25 17 E

43 56 27 X

2 50 31 E

44 14 28 X

5 4 9 E

39 51 OS

73 26 15 W

44 55 59 X

4 53 25 E

39 28 45 X

0 23 3W

19 42 0 X

100 52 OW

33 0 30 S

71 38 15W

47 39 26 X

2 45 4W

57 6 18 X

12 16 0 E

43 6 56 X

27 59 7 E

18 33 54 S

173 59 45 W

43 43 13 X

7 6 44 E

2 14 0 S

148 10 6 E

45 25 32 N

12 20 59 E

51 22 17 X

6 10 31 E

19 II 52 X

96 8 45 W

52 55 37 X

9 12 45 E

49 9 31 X

5 22 17 E

45 26 7 X

11 1 IS E

48 48 21 X

2 7 22 E

41 42 36 X

8 42 39 W

16 50 0 X

78 23 34W

56 27 11 X

6 26 20 E

45 31 40 X

11 33 24 E

48 12 40 X

16 22 45 E

45 32 57 X

4 53 39 E

45 18 54 X^

8 52 1 E

42 13 20 X

8 33 SOW

41 21 20 X

8 36 28W

8 38 IX

64 48 OW

46 35 OX

13 52 15 E

41 51 10 X

5 24 16W

43 40 20 X

7 19 30 E

18 31 7 X

64 25 24W

52 21 OS

68 17 25 W

44 29 14 X

4 41 0 E

44 59 21 X

9 1 25 F.

59 13 30 X

40 '

o44

GEOGRAPHY.

Names of Places.

Vona
Vulcan, isle of

Idem

Idem, bay of port End

Idem, isle

Waigioa isle, Boni

Wakefield

Waldeck

Waldes, harbour

Wallis, isle

Walsingham, cape

Waltham spire

Wangeroeg lighthouse

Wanstead

Warasdin

Warberg, fort

Wardhuus

Wardour castle

Warmensdorf

Wark worth castle

Warren bank

Warrington steeple

Warsaw

Washington

Watelin isle, S. E. point

Watford spire

Weaver Hill

Wednesbury spire

Weimar

Welford steeple

Wellington steeple

Wernigerode

Wesel

West Cappel

West Morchard steeple

Westende

Westerwick

Whattley spire

Whatton spire

Whernside mountain, great

Wliernside, Ingleton fells

Whitchurcli steeple

Whitehaven windmill

Wibourg

Wildeshausen

Wilna

Wilton beacon

Latitude.

O t II

Lonpfitude.

0 t 11

Names of Places.

Latitude.

0 1 II

Longitude.

0 1 11

41 7 0 N

37 46 45 E

Winchester cathedral

51 3 40 N

1 18 26 W

5 32 20 S

148 4 IS E

Wincklcy steeple

50 51 22 N

3 55 48W

10 25 12 S

165 43 21 E

Wingaac, pyramid of

57 38 12 N

11 38 0 E

42 33 11 N

140 52 47 E

Wing steeple

51 53 49 N

0 43 3W

30 43 ON

130 16 40 E

Wisby

57 39 15 N

18 25 30 E

Wisp Hill

55 17 13 N

2 57 22\V

0 2 30 S

131 1 59 E

Wittenburg

51 52 39 N

12 45 44 E

53 41 2 N

1 29 24W

Woerden

52 5 13 N

4 44 6 £

51 12 43 N

9 1 32 E

Wolfcmbuttel

52 8 44 N

10 21 44 E

42 30 0 S

63 40 ISW

Woburn Abbey

51 54 47 N

0 35 42 \V

13 18 OS

177 21 45 W

Wolverhampton Spire

52 34 54 N

2 7 low

62 39 ON

77 47 45W

Woodbury signal stafi"

50 37 22 N

3 20 17W

52 49 5 N

0 48 21 W

Worcester

52 9 30 N

2 0 OW

53 48 26 N

7 52 35 E

Workington Chapel

54 38 34 N

3 33 30W

51 34 10 N

0 3 45 E

Worms Head

51 33 56 N

4 18 56 W'

46 IS 18 N

16 26 6 E

Wornas

40 37 49 N

8 21 12 E

57 6 18 N

12 16 0 E

Woronetz

5 1 40 3!J N

39 21 30 E

70 22 36 N

31 7 0 E

Wouhahou isle

21 40 30 S

158 1 ISW

51 2 32 N

2 5 45W

Wrekin, the

52 40 UN

2 31 SOW

51 17 13 N

12 56 7 E

Wurtzburg

49 46 6 N

9 55 30 E

55 20 54 N

1 36 14W

Wurzen

51 22 2 N

12 42 44 E

52 5 49 N

4 36 18W

Wushnci Wolotschok

57 35 12 N

34 41 0 E

53 23 30 N

2 33 IIW

52 14 28 N

21 2 45 E

Xam-hay

31 16 ON

121 32 0 E

38 55 0 N

76 58 45 \V

Xanten

51 40 13 N

6 25 S3 E

25 56 31 N

74 37 2W

51 39 16 N

0 23 36^V

Yartcombe

50 53 22 N

3 4 34W

S3 0 55 N

1 51 lOW

Yelling spire

52 15 16 N

0 9 19 W

52 33 23 N

2 0 44 W

Yeovil steeple

50 56 34 N

2 37 IW

50 59 12 N

1121 0 E

Yetminstcr Steeple

50 53 40 N

2 34 6W

52 25 5 N

1 3 13VV

Yeu, isle of

46 42 25 N

2 19 35 W

50 58 54 N

3 12 49 W

Ylo

17 36 15 N

71 10 45W

51 50 34 N

10 47 28 E

Ynaliog mountain

52 48 41 N

4 43 SOW

51 39 17 N

6 37 8 E

Ynys Gad am

53 22 9 N

4 14 15W

51 31 49 N

3 26 55 E

York Minster

53 57 48 N

1 4 34W

50 51 15 N

3 43 52W

York's, Duke of, isle

8 41 6 S

173 25 45W

6 48 OS

105 5 15 E

Ypres

50 51 10 N

2 53 4 E

57 44 50 N

16 40 15 E

Ystad

55 25 31 N

13 48 30 E

51 13 39 N

2 22 23W

52 57 IN

0 53 15W

Zachea, isle of

18 23 48 N

67 34 IW

54 9 44 N

1 59 24W

Zalappa

19 30 8 N

96 54 39W

54 13 45 N

2 23 35W

Zarizin

48 42 20 N

44 27 45 E

51 52 51 N

0 49 49 W

Zeal Monachorum

50 49 4 N

3 48 23W

54 32 50 N

3 34 56W

Znaim

48 31 15 N

16 1 57 E

60 42 40 N

28 46 5 E

Zumpango

19 46 52 N

99 3 45W

52 54 26 N

8 27 54 E

Zurich

47 22 33 N

8 31 30 E

54 41 2 N

25 17 27 E

Zuriksee

51 39 4 N

3 54 59 E

53 59 54 N

0 45 29W

Zutphen

52 8 26 N

6 11 52 E

GEOLOGY, or Geognosy, is that branch of mineralo-
gy which relates to tlic arrangement and mode of formation
of the different mineral substances of which the eaith is
composed. We originally proposed to discuss this sub-
ject under the present arliclc, but it has been thouglit pro-
per to include it under tlie general head of Mineralogy.

GEOMETRICAL An.vlysis, is the particular form of
proceeding, employed by the ancient geometers in the in-
vestigation of geometrical truth. It originated in the
school of Plato, and was alike applicable to the demonstra-
tion of theorems and the investigation of problems. We
learn from the writings of Pappus Alexandrinus, that in his
time there existed thirty-three books relating to this sub-
ject ; many of these have been lost, and their restoration

has afforded an exercise to the ingenuity of mathematicians
of modern times.

Wc have sufficiently indicated the nature of the geome-
trical analysis, and the mode of its application iii our article
Analysis. When at that part of our work, it was our in-
tention to have treated at some length on the subject in this
place ; but as we advanced, we have, witii a view to give
sufficient room to other branches of knowledge, found it ne-
cessary to limit somewhat our views. The history of its
oiigin and progress will be found in the introduction to the
article Geometry, and it will be noticed again under the
words Inclin.\tion, Locus, Porism, Tangency, and Sec-
tion. Works which treat on the subject are enumerated
in the introduction to Geometry. (|.)

045

(GEOMETRY.

Geometry is that branch of mathematics which treats of
the properties of extension and fitjure. The name is de-
rived from yeaficT^i*, the science of land measiirmg.

There is a certain degree of geometrical knowledge,
which naturally arises out of the wants of man, in every
state of society. It is impossible to build houses and tem-
ples, or to apportion territory, witliout employing some of
the principles of geometry. Hence we cannot expect to
find a period of society, or a country, in which it was alto-
gether unknown.

Ancient writers have generally supposed that it was first
cultivated in Egypt ; and, according to some, it derived its
origin from the necessity of determining every year the
just share of land that belonged to eacli proprietor, after
the waters of the Nile, whicli annually overflowed the
country, had returned into their ordinary channel. It may
however be remarked, that the obliteration of the land-
rnarks, by the inundation, is quite a conjecture, and not a
very probable one.

Some writers, among whom is Herodotus, fix the origin
of geometry at the time when Sesostris intersected Egypt
by numerous canals, and divided the country among the in-
habitants. Sir Isaac Newton has adopftd this opinion in
his chronology, and has supposed that this division was
made by Thoth, the minister of Sesostris, who, according
to him, was the same as Osiris; and this conjecture is
supported by some ancient authorities. Aristotle has how-
ever attributed the invention to the Egyptian priests, who,
living secluded from the world, had leisure for study.
Thus, various opinions have been entertained respecting
the origin of geometry, but all have agreed in fixing it in
Egypt.

The celebrated philosopher, Thales of Miletus, trans-
planted the sciences, and particularly mathematics, from
Egypt into Greece. He was born about 640 years before
Christ, and being unable to gratify his ardent desire for
knowledge at home, he travelled into Egypt, at an advan-
ced period of life, where he conversed with the priests,
the only depositories of learning in that country. Diogenes
Laertius relates, that he measured the height of the pyra-
mids, or rather the obelisks, by means of their shadow ;
and Plutarch says, that the king Aniasis was astonished at
this instance of sagacity in the Greek philosopher; which
is a proof that the Egyptians had made but little progress
in the science. It is also stated by Proclus, that Tliales
employed the principles of geometry to determine the dis-
tance of vessels remote from the sliore. On his return to
Greece, his celebrity for learning drew the attention of his
countrymen: he soon had disciples, and hence the founda-
tion of the Ionian school, so called from Ionia, his native
country.

There were some slight traces of what may be called
natural geometry in Greece, before the time of Thales:
Thus, Euphorbus of Phrygia is said to have discovered
some of the properties of a triangle ; the square and the
level have been ascribed to Theodorus of Samos ; and the
compasses to the nephew of Daedalus. But these can only
be considered as a kind of instinctive geometry ; the origin
of the true geometry among the Greeks must be fixed to
the period of the return of Thales. It was he that laid the
foundation of the science, and inspired his countrymen with
a taste for its study ; and various discoveries are attributed
to him concerning the circle, and tiie comparison of trian-
gles. In particular, he first found that all angles in a semi-

circle are right angles; a discovery which is said to have
excited in his mind that lively emotion, which is perhaps
only felt by poets and geometers : he foresaw the import-
ant consequences to which this proposition led, and he ex-
pressed his gratitude to the muses by a sacrifice. This,
however, is but a small part of what geometry owes him ;
and it is much to be regretted that the loss of the ancient
history of the science should have left us in uncertainty as
to the full extent of the obligation.

It is probable iliat the greater number of the disciples
of Thales were acquainted with geometry; but the names
of Ameristus and Anaximander only have reached our
times. The first is said to have been a skilful geometer ;
the other composed a kind of elementary treatise or intro-
duction to geometry, the earliest on record. Thales was
succeeded in his school by Anaximander, who is said to
have invented the sphere, the gnomon, geographical charts,
and sun-dials; he was succeeded by Anaximencs; and this
philosopher again was succeeded by his scholar Anaxago-
ras, who, being cast into prison on account of his opinions
relating to astronomy, employed himself in attempting to
square the circle. This is the earliest effort on record, to
resolve the most celebrated problem in geometry.

Pythagoras was one of the earliest and most successful
cultivators of geometry. He was born about 580 years be-
fore the Christian aera; he studied under Thales, and by
his advice travelled into Egypt. Here he is said to have
consulted the columns of Sothis, on which that celebrated
person had engraven the principles of geometry, and
which were deposited in subterranean vases. A learned
curiosity induced him to travel also into India; and it is
far from being improbable, that he was more indebted for
his knowledge to the Brahmins, on the banks of the Gan-
ges, than to the priests of Egypt. On his return, finding
his native country a prey to tyranny, he settled in Italy,
and there founded one of the most celebrated schools of
antiquity. He is said to have discovered that in any right
angled triangle, the square on the side opposite the right
angle, is equal to the two squares on the sides containing
it ; and, on this account, to have sacrificed one hundred
oxen, to express his gratitude to the muses. This, how-
ever, was incompatible with his moral principles, which
led him to abhor the shedding of blood on any account
whatever; and besides, the moderate fortune of a philoso-
pher would not admit of such an expensive proof of his
piety. The application which the Pythagoreans made of
geometry gave birth to several new theories, such as the
incommensurability of certain lines, for example, the side
of a square, and its diagonal, also the doctrine of the regu-
lar solids, which, although of little use in itself, must have
led to the discovery of many propositions in geometry.
Diogenes Laertius has attributed to Pythagoras the merit
of having discovered, that of all figures having the same
boundary, the circle among plane figures, and the sphere
among solid figures, are the most capacious: if this was
so, he is the first on record that has treated of isoperime-
trical problems.

The Pythagorean school sent forth many mathema-
ticians; of these Archytas claims attention, because of his
solution of the problem of finding two mean proportionals ;
also on account of his being one of the first that employed
the geometrical analysis, which he had learnt from Plato,
and by means of which he made many discoveries. He is
said to have applied geometry to mechanics, for which he

646

GKOMfclTliY.

was blamed by Pluto; but probably it was rallicr foi-aiiply-
ing, on the conliary, mechanics to geometry, as he employ-
ed motion in geometrical rcsolntions and constructions.

Democritus of Abdera studied geometry, and was a
profound mathematician. From the titles of his works, it
iias been conjectured that he was one of the principal pro-
moters of the elementary doctrine respecting the contact
of circles and spheres, and concerning irrational numbers
and solids. He treated besides of some of the principles
of optics and perspective.

Hippocrates was originally a merchant, but having no
turn for commerce, his aflairs went into disorder ; to re-
pair them, lie came to Athens, and was one day led by cu-
riosity to visit the schools of philosophy. There he heard
of geometry for the first time ; and as probably there is a
natural adaptation of certain minds to particular studies, he
■was instantly captivated with the subject, and became one
of the best geometers of his time. He discovered the
quadrature of a space bounded by half the circumference
of one circle, and one fourth the circumference of another,
their convexities being turned the same way. This figure,
called a lune, he shewed to be equal to a right angled tri-
angle having its sides about the right angle etjual, and the
remaining side equal to the common chord of the tvco arcs;
and thus he was the first that proved a curvilineal to be
equal to a rectilineal space. But although a kind of quad-
rature, it cannot be compared as a discovery with the quad-
rature of the parabola found afterwards by Archimedes :
the former is merely a geometrical trick, which leads to
nothing further; but the latter was an important step in
the progress of the science. Hippocrates attempted the
quadrature of the circle, but if his mode of reasoning has
been correctly handed down to us, he committed a blunder:
this is the oldest paralogism in geometry upon record. On
the other hand it must be mentioned to his credit, that he
first proved the duplication of the cube to depend on the
finding of two mean proportionals between two given lines:
(See Introduction to Conic Sections.) He was also the
first that composed Elements of Geometry, which, how-
ever, have been lost, and are only to be regretted, because
we might have learnt from tliem the stale of the science
at that period. It has been said that, notwithstanding his
want of success in commerce, he retained something of
the mercantile spirit : he accepted money for teaching-
geometry, and for this he was expelled the school of the
Pythagoreans. This offence we think might have been
forgiven in consideration of his misfortunes.

Two geometers, Bryson and Antiphon, appear to have
lived about the time of fiippocratcs, and a little before
Aristotle. These are only known by some animadversions
of this last philosopher on their attempts to square the
circle. It appears that before this time, geometers knew
that the area of a circle was equal to a triangle whose base
was equal to the circumference, and perpendicular equal
to the radius.

Having- briefly traced the progress of geometry during
the two first ages after its introduction ivjto Greece, we
come now to the origin of the Platonic school, which may
be considered as an sera in the history of the science. Its
celebrated founder had been the disciple of a philosoplier
(Socrates) who set little value on geometiy ; but Plato en-
tertained a very difl'ercnt opinion of its utility. After the
example of Thales and Pytliagoras, he travelled into
Egypt, to study under the priests. He also went into
Italy, to consult the famous Pythagoreans, Philolaus, Ti-
niseus of Locris, and Archytas, and to Cyrene to hear the
mathematician Theodorus. On his rettirn to Greece, he
made mathematics, and especially geometry, the basis of
his instructions. He put an inscription over bis school,

forbidding any one to enter, that did not understand geo-
metry; and when cpiestioned concerning- the probable em-
ployment of the Deity, he answered, that lie geometrizcd
conlinuattij, meaning no doubt that he governed the uni-
verse by geometrical laws.

It does not appear that Plato composed any work him-
self on matliematics, but he is re|)Uted to have iM\-cnlcd
the Geometrical Analysis: (Sec Analysis.) The tiieory
of the Conic Sections originated in this school ; some have
even supposed that Plato himself invented it, but there
does not seem to be any sufiicient giound for this opinion.
See Conic Sections.

A third discovery due to the Platonic school was that of
\.\\c geometrical loci ; when the conditions which determine
the position of a point are such as to admit of its being
any where in a line of a particular kind, but do not admit
of its being out of that line, then the line is called the locun
of the point: Thus, if one end of a straight line of a given
length be at a given jioint, the hcua of the other end will
be the circumference of a given circle : Again, if the base
of a triangle of a given area be given in position and mag-
nitude, the locus of its vertex will be a given straight line,
which will be parallel to the base ; also, if the base of a
triangle be given in position and magnitude, and its verti-
cal angle be given in magnitude, the locu% of its vertex
will be the circumference of a given circle: all this is evi-
dent from the elements of geometry. Geometrical loci,
considered merely as, speculative truths, are interesting ;
but their chief value arises from their utility in the resolu-
tion of problems, of which, in general, they suggest the
most elegant solutions. See Locus.

The celebrated problem concerning the duplication of
the cube, acquired its celebrity about the time of Plato.
Its origin, however, was earlier; for it appears, that Hip-
pocrates had reduced it to the determination of two mean
proportionals between two given lines; but it had not then
excited much attention among geometers. We have al-
ready given its history in the introduction to Coxic Sec-
tions. Plato himself gave a solution, and it was also resolv-
ed by Archytas, Eudoxns, Eratosthenes, and Mt;naechmus.
The solutions of eleven of the ancient geometers, are pre-
served in Eutocius' commentary on Archimedes, cle S/i/i.
et Cijl.

It is probable that the trisection of an angle, a problem
of the same difficulty as the duplication of the cube, was
likewise considered in the Platonic school. There is no
absolute testimony of its being so ancient; but, according
to the natural piogress of the human mind, it must have
occurred as soon as geometry assumed the form of a sci-
ence ; for the transition from the bisection of an arc to its
division into three, or any number of equal parts, or into
parts which have a given ratio to one another, is easy.
The quadralrix, a curve almost as old as the time of Plato,
appears to have been invented wi^h a view to the solution
of the problem in its most general form. One difficulty
in the problems of doubling a cube, and trisecting an an-
gle, must have arisen from the impossiljility of resolving
them by straight lines and circles alone; and of this the
ancient geometrical analysis gave no certain iridicatioii. The
modern analysis teaches how to resolve every such pro-
blem, and also shews by what lines it mav be effected.

These discoveries must be attributed to the Platonic
school in general; for it is impossible to say with whom
each originated. Some of advanced years frequented the
school, as fi'iends of its celebrated head, or out of respect
for his <lortrines; and others, chiefly young pei-sons, as
disciples and pupils. Of the first class were Laodamus,
Archytas, and Thesetetus. Laodamus was one of the first
to wliom Plato communicated his mctho:i of analysis, be-

GEOMKTUY.

6 1.7

foi'C he made it public ; and he is said by Procliis to have
profited greatly by this instninicnt of discovery. Archy-
tas was a Pythaq;orcan of extensive knowledge in geome-
try and mechanics. He had a great friendship for Plalo,
and frequently visited him at Athens ; but in one of his
voyages he perished by shipwreck. Thcaetetus was a rich
citizen of Athens, and a friend and fellow-student of Plato
under Socrates, and Thcodorus of Cyrene, the geometer.
He appears to have cultivated and extended the theory of
the regular solids.

The progress that geometry had then made, from the
time of Hippocrates of Chios, required that the elements
of the science should be new modelled. This was done
by Leon, a scholar of Neoclis, or Neoclide, a philosopher
who had studied under Plato. To Leon has been ascribed
also the invention of that part of the solution of a problem
called its determmation, which treats of the limits, or the
cases in which it is possible. Eudosus of Cnidus was one
of the most celebrated of the friends and contemporaries
of Plato. He generalized many theorems, and thereby
greatly advanced geometry. It is believed that he culti-
vated the theory of the conic sections; and its invention has
been attributed to him. He resolved the problem of the
duplication of the cube ; and it is to be regretted that Eu-
tocius, who despised his solution, has not thought fit to
record it with the others, in his Commentary on Archi-
medes. Diogenes Laertius has attributed to him the in-
vention of curve lines in general ; from which we may in-
fer, that other curves than the conic sections were known
in the school of Plato. Archimedes says, in the beginning
of his treatise on the sphere and cylinder, that Eudoxus
found the measure of the pyramid and cone, and that he
had treated of solids; and others again have supposed,
that he was the author of the theory of proportion as given
in the fifth book of Euclid's Elements.

Passing over various geometers who are said to have
distinguished themselves, but of whom hardly any thing
more than the names are now known, we shall only men-
tion Mensechmus, and his brother Dinostratus. The for-
mer extended the theory of conic sections, insomuch that
Eratosthenes seems to have given him the honour of their
discovery, calling them Ihe curves of Memechmus. His
two solutions of the problem of two mean proportionals
are a proof of his geometrical skill. Several discoveries
have been given to Dinostratus ; but he is chiefly known
by a property which he discovered of the qiiadratri.v, a
curve supposed to have been invented by Hippias of
Elis.

After the death of Plato, his school was divided into two,
which, upon some points, held opposite sentiments, but
agreed in regarding a knowledge of the mathematics as
absolutely necessary to such as would study philosophy.
Thus the geometrical theories which had been culti-
vated with so much ardour in his life-time still continued
to make progress. Xenocratcs, the successor of Plato af-
ter Speusippus, wrote on geometry and arithmetic. The
principal geometers were all bred in the Platonic school,
and among these probably \vc ought to reckon Aristaeus,
who is now little known, because his works are lost : we
learn, however, from Pappus, that he was one of the an-
cients who had made the most progress in their sublime
geometry. He composed a treatise on solid loci, in five
books, and another on conic sections, also in five books,
which last contained the greatest part of what was after-
wards given by Apollonius in the first four books of his
work. Pappus placed this work after the conies of Apol-
lonius, in the order of study wliich he prescribed to his
son : This sliews that it was a profound theory, and su])-
posed the doctrine of conies to be previously known.

He is reputed to have been the friend and preceptor of Eu-
clid.

Tiie progress of geometry among the Peripatetics was
not so brilliant as it had been in the school of Plato, but
the science was by no means neglected. The successor of
Aristotle composed several works relating to mathematics,
and particularly a complete history of these sciences down
to his own time : there were four books on the history of
geometry, six o]i that of astronomy, and one on that of arith-
metic. What a treasure this would have been, had we now
possessed it 1

The next remarkable epoch in the history of geometry,
after the time of Plato, was the establishment of the school
of Alexandria, by Ptolemy Lagus, about 300 years before
the Christian sera. This event was highly propitious to
learning in general, and particularly to every branch of
mathematics then known; for the whole was then culti-
vated with as much attention as had been bestowed on geo-
metry alone in the Platonic school. It was here that the
celebrated geometer Euclid flourished, under the first of
the Ptolemies: his native place is not certainly known, but
he appears to have studied at Athens, under the disciples
of Plato, before he settled at Alexandria. Pappus, in the
introduction to the seventh book of his Collections, gives
him an excellent character, describing him as gentle, mo-
dest, and benign towards all, and more especially such as
cultivated and improved the mathematics. There is an
anecdote recorded of Euclid, which seems to shew he was
not much of a courtier: Ptolemy Philadelplr.is having
asked him whether there was any easier way of studying
geometry than that commonly taught; his reply was,
" there is no royal road to geometry." This celebrated
man composed treatises on various branches of the ancient
mathematics, but he is best known by his Elements, a
work on geometry and arithmetic, in thirteen books, under
which he has collected all the elementary truths of geome-
try which had been found before his time. The selection
and arrangement have been made with such judgment,
that, after a period of 2000 years, and notwithstanding the
great additions made to mathematical science, it is still
generally allowed to be the best elementary work on geo-
metry extant. Numberless treatises have been written
since the revival of learning, some with a view to impi-ove,
and others to su;-plant the work of the Greek geometer:
but in this country, at least, they have been generally ne-
glected and forgotten, and Euclid maintains his place in
our schools.

Of Euclid's Elements, the first four books treat of the
pi'operties of plane figures ; the fifth contains the theory of
proportion; and the sixth its application to plane figures;
the seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth, relate to arithmetic,
and the doctrine of incommensurables ; the eleventh and
twelftli contain the elements of the geomcli y of solids ; and
the thirteenth treats of tlie five regular solids, or Platonic
bodies, so called because they were studied in that cele-
brated school : two books more, viz. the fourteenth and
fifteenth, on regular solids, have been atti-ibuted to Euclid,
but tiiese rather appear to have been written by Hypsicles
of Alexandria.

It is only the first six, and the eleventh and twelfth books,
that are now commonly taught in the schools; for the
books on arithmetic have been supei'seded by the modern
theories of algebra, and the regular solids have long ceased
to be particularly interesting: they may be compared to
mines wiach have been abandoned, because the produce was
not cc[ual to the expence of v.'orUing them. Euclid's Ele-
ments have had a number of commentators; the earliest
Was Theon of Alexandria, who lived about the middle of
the fourth century. Proclus also has given a commentary

G48

GEOIMETUY.

on the first book, wluch is only vahiable on account of the
information it contains respecting the history and metaphy-
sics ol' geometry. Alter the revival of learning, the lilc-
ments of Euclid were first linown in Europe, tluough the
medium of an Arabic translation ; from lliis it was deci-
phered and transUiled into Ealin, by Atiielard in Enghuid,
and Campanus in Italy, alxiut the same lime, in the 12th
or 13th centuries. Athelard's translation exists only in
manuscript, in some libraries; that of Campanus served as
the basis of the greater part of the I>alin translations, made
about the end of the I5th and the beginrjing of the 16th cen-
turies. The editio fnincefis is that which Ratdolt of Augs-
burg, a celebrated printer, gave in 1482, at Venice, in fo-
lio; the Greek text did not appear until 1533, when it was
printed at Basle, by J. llervage, under the care of J. Gry-
nseus. The earliest English edition is that of Billingsley,
in 1570: But the history of the various editions of this
work, either in whole or in part, that have been publislied
in all countries, in which science has been cultivated, is far
too extensive to find a place here. The curious reader
may find a copious list in the second volume of the Siblio-
theca Mathemaiica, by IVlurhard. At present, the edition
of Euclid most esteemed in this country, is that of the late
Dr Simson of Glasgow, which contains the first six and
the eleventh and twelfth books, and the book of Euclid's
Data. We have lately seen the first volume of an edition
in the original Greek, accompanied with a Latin and French
translation by Peyrard, a French professor of mathematics,
and author of a F'rench translation of Archimedes; it
gives the original text as exhibited in a great number of
manuscripts, and on this account it must be extremely va-
luable.

Besides the Elements, the only other entire geometrical
work of Euclid that has come down to the present times,
is his Data. This is the first in order of the books writ-
ten by the ancient geometers to facilitate the method of
resolution or analysis. In general, a thing is said to be
given, which is actually exhibited, or can be found; and
the propositions in the book of Euclid's Data, shew what
things can be found from those which by hypothesis are al-
ready known.

We learn from Pappus of Alexandria, that there exist-
ed four books by Euclid on Conic Sections, and two con-
cerning Loci ad Sufierjiciem; these were curves of double
curvature. But his most profound work, and that of which
the loss is most regretted, was his three books on Porisms,
which Pappus says were a most artful collection of many
things that relate to tiie analysis of the more difficult and
general problems. We shall explain this subject under
tl^e word Porism. Proclus cites another work of Euclid's,
which he entitles, De Divisionibus. This probably treated
of the division of figures. Tliese are all the known geo-
metrical writings of Euclid: — his other works do not be-
long to this place. See Euclid.

In the order of time, Archimedes is the next of the an-
cient geometers that has drawn the attention of the mo-
derns. He was born at Syracuse, about the year 287 A. C.
He cultivated all the parts of mathematics, and in particu-
lar geometry. The most difficult part of the science is
that which relates to the areas of curve lines, and to curve
surfaces. Archimedes applied his fine genius to this sub-
ject, and he laid the foundation of all the subsequent dis-
coveries relating to it. His writings on geometry are nu-
merous. We have, in the first place, two books on the
iiphereand cylinder; these contain the beautiful discovery,
that the sphere is two-thirds of the circumscribing cylin-
der, whether we compare their surfaces, or their solidi-
ties, observing that the two ends of the cylinder are consi-
dered as forming a part of its surface. He likewise shews.

that the curve surface of any segment of the cylinder be-
tween two planes perpendicular to its axis, is equal to the
curve surface of the corresponding segment of the sphere.
Archimedes was so much pleased with these discoveries,
that he requested after his death that his tomb might be
inscribed with a sphere and cylinder.

His book on tlie Measure of tlif Circle, is a kind of sup-
plement to those on the sphere and cylinder. In this, he
demonstrates that any circle is equal to a triangle having
its base equal to the circumference, and its height equal
to the radius ; and he proves, that if the diameter of a cir-
cle be reckoned unity, the circumference will be between
3^ and 3|^. The principles laid down by Arcnimedes
were sufficient to carry the approximation to any degree
of nearness ; but he appears to have aimed at nothing more
than a simple rule, sufficiently accurate for the common
concerns of life.

His treatise on Conoids and Spheroids relates to the so-
lids generated by the conic sections revolving about their
axes: those produced by the rotation of the parabola and
hyperbola he called Conoids; and such as aie generated
by the revolution of the ellipse about either axis are his
Sfiheroids. Here he compares the area of an ellipse with
that of a circle ; he also proves that the sections of conoids
and spheroids are conic sections, and he treats of their tan-
gent planes. He proves, for the first time, that a parabo-
lic conoid is equal to three times the half of a cone of the
same base and altitude, and he also shews what is the ra-
tio of any segment of a hyperbolic conoid, or of a sphe-
roid to a cone of the same base and altitude. His reason-
ing is a model of accuracy; and it exhibits the true spirit
of the ancient synthetic method ; it is however exceeding-
ly prolix and difficult, insomuch that few will have patience
to follow the steps of the venerable mathematician, more
especially as the same conclusions may be found with equal
certainty by the modern analysis, at an infinitely less ex-
pence of thought.

His treatise on S/iirals treats of a curve which was the
invention of his friend Conon, who it seems had found its
properties, but died before he had time to investigate their
demonstrations : these Archimedes has supplied. The
whole subject is, however, so much his own, that what is
properly the spiral of Conon, is usually called the spiral of
Archimedes. He has also treated 0/ the Equilibrium of
Planes, or of their centres of gravity, in two books; and
next Of the Quadrature of the Parabola. This is the first
complete quadrature of a curve that was ever found. He
here shews, that the area of any segment of a parabola cut
ofT by a chord, is two-thirds of the circumscribing paral-
lelogram, and this he proves by two different methods.
His Arenarius was written to evince the possibility of ex-
pressing, by numbers, the grains of sand that might fill
the whole space of the universe. Here he introduces a
property of a geometrical progression, that has since been
made the foundation of the theory of logarithms; but it
would be going too far to suppose that Archimedes had
made any approach to that valuable invention. This tract
is valuble, not on account of the subject on which he treats,
but because of the information it contains respecting the
ancient astronomy, and the application which it gives of the
Greek arithmetic. In addition to the works we have enu-
merated, there is a treatise On bodies which are carried on
a fluid, in two books, and a book of Lemmas, which is a
collection of theorems and problems, curious in them-
selves, and useful to the geometrical analysis. These are
all the writings of Archimedes now extant, but many have
been lost.

The writings of Archimedes are the most precious re-
lict of the ancient geometry: they siiew to what an extent

GEOMETRY.

649

such a genius as his could carry its mctliod of demonstra-
tion ; but they likewise prove, that there were certain limits
beyond which it became inii|iplicab]e, on account of the un-
wieldiness of the macliinery. In general, the progress of
discovery is slow; but Archimedes took up the subject
where men of ordinary capacities were at a stand, and, by
the vigour of bis mind, anticipated the labour of ages : he
was undoubtedly the Newton of antiquity.

Eulocius has written a commentary on a part of the
works of Archimedes, viz. on the books De Sjihara ct cij-
lindro, de dimcn.:ione circuli et de terjui/ioiidcrantihun. In
the year 1543, Nicolas Tartalea translated from Greek into
Latin, and published at Venice, the treatises, I. De Centris
Gravium, iSc. 2. Quadratura Parabolcs. 3. De Insidenlibus
aqua:, liber primus ; and, in 1555, the two books De Insi-
denlibus a(jue appeared at Venice. In 1543, an edition of
the works of Archimedes was published at Basle, with llie
Latin translation of John of Cremona, and revised by Re-
gimontanus. In this, the two books De Insidenlibus in
Fluido, and the Lemmata., were wanting, but it contained
the commentary of Eutocius in Greek and Latin. Other
editions of his works, or parts of them, have been given by
Commandinus, Renault, Greaves and Foster, Borclli, Bar-
row, Maurolicus, Wallis, some with commentaries ; but
these are in a manner superseded by the Oxford edition of
Torelli in Greek and Latin, printed in 1792, and the French
translation of Peyrard in 4to and 8vo, the latter printed in
1808. For farther information respecting this geometer,
see Archimedes.

Eratosthenes flourished in the Alexandrian school, about
the time of Archimedes : his extensive acquirements in all
branches of knowledge induced the third Ptolemy to make
him bis librarian. As a geometer, he might rank with Aris-
tJeus, Euclid, and ApoUonius. His construction of the du-
plication of the cube, has come down to us in Eutocius'
Commentary on Archimedes ; and we find it recorded in
iPappus, that he wrote two books on a branch of the geo-
metrical analysis, which were entitled De Locis ad medie-
tates ; these appear to have been conic sections. There is
an arithmetical invention attributed to him, by which the
prime numbers may be determined. Its nature has been
described in our article Arithmetic. It may be presumed
that Eratosthenes composed many works ; one is said to
have been on the conic sections, and others on astronomy,
but these are now completely lost.

About the time that Archimedes finished his career,
another geometer of the highest order appeared. This was
ApoUonius of Pcrga, a town in Pamphylia. He was born
towards the middle of the third century, before the Chris-
tian era, and he flourished principally under Ptolemy Phi-
lopater, or towards the end of that century. He studied in
the Alexandrian school under the successors of Euclid ;
and so highly esteemed were his discoveries, that he ac-
quired the name of the Great Geometer. It is mortifying
to reflect, tliat sometimes consummate abilities are alloyed
with gieat moral defects; ApoUonius had a mind of the
highest order, yet he was vain, jealous of merit in others,
and always disposed to detraction. He was, however, one
of the most inventive and (jrofound writers that has treated
of the mathematics, and it was in a great measure from liis
■works that the true spirit of the ancient geometry was to be
learnt. In the introduction to Our article Conic Sections,
we have had occasion to speak of his tieatise on that sub-
ject ; which contributed principally to his celebrity. The
most material of his other works were the following trea-
tises : I . On the Section of a Ratio; 2. On the Section of a

Space; 3. On Determinate Section ; 4. On Tangencies ; 5.
On Inclinations; 6. On Plane Loci: The nature and con-
tents of each of these has been particularly described in our
article on Analysis. We have understood that Peyrard, the
learned French editor of the works of Euclid and Archi-
medes, had it in contemplation to give French translations
of the writings of ApoUonius, as well as the other ancient
geometers, as far as they have been preserved ; but we
fear that the state of France is not likely to be soon favour-
able to the execution of his views.

The names of several mathematicians of antiquity, con-
temporary with Archimedes and ApoUonius, have conic
down to us. ApoUonius has addressed the three first books
of his conies to luidcmus of Pergamus, and speaks of him
as a good judge in these matters, but lie being dead before
the fourth book was finished, ApoUonius addressed it to At-
tains. He says, in his first address to Eudemus, that Nau-
crates had instigated him to study the conies ; and in that
which precedes the second book, he requests Eudemus to
communicate it to Philonides of Ephesus.

It appears that there was a geometer named Trasideus,
who corresponded with Conon of Samos on the conic sec-
tions, and another Nicoteles the Cyrencan, who animadvert-
ed on some mistakes committed by Conon. Here, then, are
five or six geometers besides ApoUonius, who all cultiva-
ted the theory of conies. The regret which Archimedes
expressed for the loss of Conon, gives us reason to think
highly of him ; but this is almost the only ground upon
which we can form an idea of his skill as a geometer.

Dositheus was also a friend of Archimedes, who address-
ed to him several ol his works. It is probable that Nico-
medes, the inventor of the conchoid, lived about the period
at which we are now arrived. This curve, and the appli-
cation he made of it to the finding of two mean proportion-
als, are the only vestiges that now remain of his labours.

As we descend towards the commencement of the Chris-
tian era, we find a numerous list of mathematicians, most
of whom are chiefly known as cultivators of astronomy, and
some as writers on geometry. In this number were Ge-
minus of Rhodes, who composed a work called Enarra-
tiones Geoinetrica, which consisted of six books ; Philo, who
gave a solution of the problem of two mean proportionals;
Possidonius, who was a geometer, an astronomer, a mecha-
nician, and a geographer. Dionysiodorus, who resolved a
difficult problem of Archimedes, namely, to divide a hemi-
sphere in a given ratio by a plane parallel to its base; and
Theodosius, the author of an excellent treatise on Spherics,
in three books, which has been preserved, and which con-
stitutes a part of the precious remains of the ancient geo-
metry.

Tlie astronomer and geometer Manelaus of Alexandria,
lived in the second century of the Christian era : he com-
posed a treatise on Trigonometry, in si.x books; and ano-
ther on Spherics, in three books, which is still extant.
He appears also to have treated of the geometry of curve
lines.

The astronomer Ptolemy must be reckoned among the
geometers of the second century. His work on Optics,
which however is now lost,* is supposed to have contained
some beautiful applications of geometry.

There were several geometers who flourished in the pe-
riod of the three or four first centuries of the Christian era ;
but the exact time of each is not certainly known ; as Sere-
nus of Antissensis, who wrote on cylinders and cones ;
Hypsicles of Alexandria, who wrote two books on regular
solids ; Perseus Citticus, the inventor of certain lines called

• A Latin translation of the Optics of Ptolemy has lately been discovered in the Royal Library at Paris. M. Le Chevalier Delambre, who
mentioned to the Editor this curious fact, lias given an analysis of the work in the Connoissances des Terns for 1816. See our article Optics. Ed
Vol. IX. Part II. 4 N

650

GEOMETRY.

s/iiriguea, which were curves made by the section of a plane
and a solid, formed by the revolution of an arc of a circle
about a given axis. Philo of Thyaneus, who appears to
liave treated of certain curves, which were also considered
by Mcnelaus, but whose nature is not now known. Tap-
pus also mentions Demetrius of Alexandria, as the author
of a work which treated of curves, and hence it has been
conjectured that the ancients had gone farther into this sub-
ject than has been generally supposed.

We are now come to the period when learning began to
decline, so that instead of brilliant discoveries, and origi-
nal treatises, we have only commentaries and annotations on
the works of former times, a presage of the approach of
ignorance and barbarism. Of this nature were the works of
Pappus, and Theon of Alexandria, two mathematicians who
lived towards the end of the fourth century. The former
of these, however, ranks in a higher class, on account of
the genius displayed in his writings. Geometry is particu-
larly obliged to him for his Mathematical CoZ/fcn'o-is, which
originally consisted of eight books; but of these, the first
and half of the second are now lost. He seems to have in-
tended to collect, into one body, several scattered discove-
ries, and to illustrate and complete, in many places, the
writings of the most celebrated mathematicians, in parti-
cular Apollonius, Archimedes, Euclid, and Theodosius ;
for this purpose he has given a multitude of lemmas, and
curious theorems, which ihey had supposed known ; and he
has also described the dill'e rent attempts which had been made
to resolve the more difiicult problems, as the duplication of
the cube, and the trisection of an angle. The preface to
his seventh book is inestimably precious, for it has preserv-
ed from oblivion many analytical works on geometry, of
which we should otherwise have been entirely ignorant.
The abridgment which he has given of these is all that re-
mains of the greater number ; yet it has served to give a
continuity to the history of geometry, and to inspire mo-
dern mathematicians with a high opinion of the theories of
the ancients. In fact, such of their geometrical writings as
have descended to our times are merely elementary ; their
more recondite works have either been entirely lost, or are
only known by the account which Pappus has given of
them. The books that remain of Pappus have suffered
much from the injuries of time ; there are many inaccura-
cies, and some passages so mutilated as to be hardly intel-
ligible. The original Greek, except some extracts, has
never been published. The only transition that has been
given, which is by Commandinus, was pubiis'ied at Pcsara
in 1588, and again, with little variation, in 1660, at Bologna.
Commandinus appears to have had access to only one ma-
Viuscript, which wanted the first two books, and throughout
was very faulty. There are, however, several manuscripts
of Pappus in the libraries ; the university of Oxford pos-
sesses two; one has half of the second book, and this part-
was published, with a Latin translation, in 1688, by Dr
Wallis. It treats of arithmetic, so that probably the first
two books treated of this subject. I'hc university has al-
ready conferred a great favour on geometrical science, by
the elegant editions it has given of Euclid, Apollonius, and
Archimedes ; and it is to be wished that the obligation were
increased by an edition of Pappus. Our limits will not ad-
mit of a detailed statement of the contents of this valuable
work ; some account of it may be seen in Dr Mutton's Ma-
thematical Dictionary, and also in Dr Traill's Life of Sim-
son.

Theon, the associate of Pappus in the Alexandrian school,
wrote Scholia, or Ne^tes on Euclid, which Commandinus
has given in one of his Latin editions of that author. He
is supposed, however, to have greatly vitiated the text ;
and Dr Simson, li.e learned editor of Euclid, has bestowed

great labour in freeing it from what he supposed to be
Theon's interpolations.

Theon had a beautiful and accomplished daughter,
named Hypalia, who cultivated geometry ; and so learned
was she in the science, that she was judged worthy to suc-
ceed her father in the Alexandrian school. She wrote com-
mentaries on Apollonius and Diopliantus, which are noiv
lost. It is infinitely to be lamented that so exalted a being
should have had so tragical a fate. This woman, the orna-
ment of her sex and of human nature, fell a sacrifice to the
blind fury of a fanatical mob, about the beginning of the
fifth centuiy.

The philosopher Proclus, the chief of the Platonics at
Athens, transferred thither, in some degree, the seat ol the
mathemalical sciences, towards the middle of the fifth cen-
tury ; although he did hot extend geometry, yet he held it
in esteem. His very prolix commentary on the first book
of Euclid, has made us acfjuainted with many traits in the
history of the ancient geometry, and excited a regret thai
he did not extend it to the remaining books. Proclus was
succeeded in his scliool by Marinus of Neapolis, who form-
ed, with Isidore of Miletus and l^utocius of Ascalon, a kind
of succession, which brings the history of geometry down
to the reign of Justinian, M?.rinus wrote a preface to Eu-
clid's book of Data, which Dr Simson has rejected in his
edition as of no use. Isidore is said, by Eutocius, to have
invented an instrument for describing a parabola, by conti-
nued motion.

It would appear that Diodes lived about this period ;
he was the inventor of tha cisaoicl, a curve contrived for
the purpose ol fijiding two mean proportionals. Eutocius
also attiibutes to this geometer a solution of the Archi-
medean problem concerning the division of a sphere, which
we have already noticed ; it is highly creditable to him,
and shews that he was skilful in the ancient analysis. We
may place Sporus, and his master Philo, about this period j
the former gave a solution of the problem of two mean
proportionals, and the latter extended Archimedes' ap-
proximation of the ratio of the diameter to the circumfer-
ence of a circle, as far as 10,GOOth parts.

Tlie labours of Proclus, and the geometers that follow-
ed him, were the last rays which the ancient mathematics
scattered upon Greece. The long night of ignorance whicli
elapsed from this time, until the destruction of the Greek
empiie, produced merely elementary writers, such as in
better times would scarce have deserved the name of ma-
thematicians. The school of Alexandria, however, yet
existed, and the brilliant times of Euclid and Apollonius
might have been renewed, had it not been for the troubles
which agitated the East. The taking of Alexandria by the
Saracens, gave a mortal blow to the sciences, not only in
that celebrated capital, but also throughout the Greek em-
pire. This happened in the year 640 A. D. The Alex-
andrian library, a treasure of inestimable value, was de-
livered to destruction, and the finest monument of human
genius, the accumulated store of knowledge produced by
the exertion of the most enlightened minds in many ages,
was expended in heating the public baths of the city.
See Alexandria.

It is consoling to reflect, that although the followers of
Mohammed, at this period, destroyed the sciences, yet
they afterwards were entitled to the gratitude of posterity,
for the care with which they cherished them. Within
less than a century, we find the Arabs cultivating astro-
nomy and geometry. Many of the Greek mathematicians,
chiefly such as treat of astronomy, as Euclid, Theodosius,
Hypsicles, Menelaus, were translated into Arabic in the
reign of Almamon, or soon after ; they even then began
to study the more sublime geometry, for the four first

GEOMfiTllV.

651

.books of Ifec conies of ApoIIoniua were translated by or-
der of that cnliglitenetl princx. At a later period, the rc-
iiiaininc; books were translated, also Archimedes' treatise
on the sphere and cylinder, and probaI)ly his other works;
and it deserves to be remarked, that the Arabs cite seve-
ral works of the Greek geometers, concerning which we
know nothing ; as a treatise on parallel lines, another on
triangles, and a third on the division of the circle. We
are indebted to the Arabs for the form, under which tri-
gonometry is now known. Ptolemy had greatly simplified
the theory of Mcnelaus, yet he employed a laborious rule,
called the rule of six quantities.

Geber ben Aphla, who lived in the I Ith century, substi-
tuted, instead of the ancient method, three or four theo-
rems, which are the foundation of modern trigonometry.
The Arabs also simplified trigonometrical calculation, by
substituting the sines of arcs, instead of the chords of the
double arcs ; and this was even one of their earliest in-
ventions, for it is found in tlie writings of Albatenius, who
flourished about the year 880 of our era. The names of
many Arabian geometers are> known; we shall, however,
only mention Bagdadin, or Mahomet Al-Bagdadi, (of Bag-
dad,) the author of an elegant work on mensuration, which
has been translated and published in 1570; and Alhazen,
the celebrated author of a work on optics, which shews
him to have been an excellent geometer. In general, the
Arabian geometers had little invention, they were almost
all compilers or commentators on the ancients.

Persia has also had its geometers. The most celebrated
was Nassir-Eddin Al-Tussi; he wrote a learned commen-
tary on Euclid, which was printed in 1590 at the press of
the Medici. He also revised the conies of Apollonius,
and wrote a commentary on the subject; this was useful
to Dr Halley, in restoring the fifth, sixth, and seventh
books of that precious work. The geometer next in es-
teem was Maimon-Reschid : he wrote a commentary on
Euclid, and is said to have indulged in a singular whim :
he had conceived such an affection for one of the proposi-
tions of the first book of the Elements, that he wore the
diagram as an ornament embroidered on his sleeve. Ge-
ometry has, in modern times, been respected among the
Persians, but they have not made any improvements in the
science. The traveller Chardin has given some traits of
the pedantry of their literati. " They have given," says
he, " a name to every proposition of the Elements. They
call the 47th proposition of the first book of Euclid the
figure of the bride, probably because it is to become the
mother of a numerous progeny of other theorems. The
48th proposition, again, they call the bride's sister ; and
they, with reason, denominate geometry the difficult sci-
ence.

The Turks have not altogether neglected geometry.
In the libraries of Constantinople, the greater number of
the Greek mathematicians may be found translated into
Arabic, and some into the Turkish language ; but it
does not appear that they pay attention to any thing be-
yond what is contained in Euclid's Elements, and indeed
they have never made one discovery in the sciences.

There are hardly any traces of geometry among the an-
cient Hebrews. Every one knows that when Solomon's
temple was built, Hiram king of Tyre furnished architects
and navigators, a proof that geometry must then have been
very little known in Palestine. It was not until the se-
cond dispersion among the nations that they began to cul-
tivate the sciences. In the ninth century, the Jews, after
the example of the Arabians, began to translate the Greek
geometers into their language ; but they have discovered
iiothing whatever in geometry.

The researches of the learned have brought to light

astronomical tables in India, which must have been con-
structed by the principles of geometry ; Ijut the period at
which they have been formed has by no means been com-
pletely ascertained. Some are of opinion, that they have
been framed from observations made at a veiy remote pe-
riod, not less than three thousand years before the Chris-
tian aera ; and if this opinion be well founded, the science
of geometry must have been cultivated in India to a con-
siderable extent, long before the period assigned to its
origin in the West ; so that many of the elemcntaiy pro-
positions may have been brought from India to Greece.
The Hindoos have a treatise called the Surijd Sidhdnta,
which professes to be a revelation from heaven, commn-
nicated to Meya, a man of great sanctity, about four mil-
lion of years ago; but setting aside this fabulous origin, it
has been supposed to be of great antiquity, and to have been
written at least two thousand years before the Christian
era. Interwoven with many absurdities, this book con-
tains a rational system of trigonometry, which diffei^ en-
tirely from that first known in Greece or Arabia : In fact,
it is founded on a geometrical theorem, which was not
known to the mathematicians of Europe before the time
of Vieta, about two hundred years ago. And it employs
the sines of arcs, a thing unknown to the Greeks, wlio
used the chords of the double arcs. The invention of sines
has been attributed to the Arabs, but it is possible that
they may have received this improvement in trigonometry
as well as the numeral characters, from India.

According to the natural progress of knowledge, the
sciences of astronomy and geometry must have been long-
cultivated, and carried to some degree of perfection, be-
fore a system of trigonometry would be formed; we may
therefore infer, that geometry had an earlier origin in In-
dia than the Suryd Sidhdnta. It is, hov/evcr, proper we
should stale, that the high antiquity both of the Indian as-
tronomy and the Suryd Sidhdnta has been controverted ;
but we cannot find room to enter on this point here. The
antiquity of the Indian geometry has been asserted by
Bailly in his Astronomic Indicnne, and Professor Playfair
in his Remarks on the Astronomy of the Brahmins, Edin.
Trans, vol. ii. and Observations on the Trigonometry of the
Brahmins, Edin. Trans, vol. iv. with great eloquence and
strength of reasoning : (See our article Astronomy.) On
this side of the question, the Edinburgh Review, vol. x.
p. 455, may also be consulted. And on the opposite side,
La Place, Systeme du Monde, 2d edit. p. 239 ; Bentley Oti
the Hindoo Systems of Astronomy, in the Asiatic Researches,
vol. viii. ; Edinburgh Review, vol. xviii. p. 210; Leslie's
Geometry, 2d edit. p. 456. Mr Leslie is of opinion, that the
Hindoos derived their knowledge of mathematics from the
West. In opposition to this, consult Strachey, in the Pre-
face to Bija Ganita ; and a review of the work in Edin-
burgh Review, vol. xxi. p. 364.

The Chinese arc well known to have observed Ihe hea-
vens from the most remote ages, yet they appear to have
made little progress in geometry. When the Europeans
came among them, it consisted of little more than the
rules of mensuration : it is true, they have long known the
famous property of a right angled triangle, and in this
they have even gone before the Greeks; but this property,
which, on account of its various applications, well deserv-
ed the sacrifice said to have been offered by Pythagoras to
the Muses, has remained sterile in their hands. They did
not become acquainted with spherical trigonometry before
the 13th century; and then they probably learned it from
the Arabs or Persians.

The Romans fell far short of the Greeks in their atten-
tion to the sciences. The mathematics, in particular, were
greatly neglected at Rome; so that geometry, hardly known,
4N 2

652

GEOMETRY.

went little beyond the measuring of land and tlie fixing of
boundaries. The celebrated Varro, although no mathema-
tician, had some knowledge of geometry, and wrote a trea-
tise on the science, which has licen cited by Frontinus and
Priscianus under the title of Mensurulia. Cicero was not
unacquainted witii mathematics; although he did not write
on the subject, his works contain expressions of esteem for
the science. Tlie pains he look to discover the tomb of Ar-
chimedes, in Sicily, was a proof that he could estimate the
high merit of that illustrious man.

Vitruvius has displayed considerable knowledge in ma-
thematics, particularly in the ninth book of his architec-
ture. We owe to him many notices relating to the me-
chanics and gnomonics of his time.

The fifth, sixtl), and seventh centuries, present hardly
any mathematicians. The senator and Roman consul
IJoetius, so well known by his misfortunes and his Conso-
lations of PhiloiOfihy, was, in regard to the time, one of
the most versed in mathematics. It was by his care that
the Greek authors, as Nicomachus, Ptolemy, Euclid, Sec.
begin to be a little known in the Latin tongue. His geome-
try is a kind of free translation of Euclid.

The beginning of the eighth century was brightened by
the learning of Beda; he understood all the branches of
mathematics, then so little known, but he attended chiefly
to astronomy. It is a curious fact, that at this period mathe-
matics were more cultivated in Britain than in any other
part of Europe. This country produced Alcuin, who stu-
died under Beda; he was well skilled in mathematics, and
master to Charlemagne. The exertions of Alcuin and his
exalted pupil to revive the sciences were unavailing : the
light of science was almost extinguished, and the human
mind enveloped in the darkness of ignorance ; insomuch,
that there is no trace of a single mathematician to be found
during a period of 150 years preceding the middle of the
tenth century. However, about that period a few scatter-
ed rays shot across the gloom. The monk Abbo, a man
eminently endowed witli a taste for knowledge, and in par-
ticular for mathematics, then hardly known, had made the
monastery of Fleuri a school celebrated for its learning.
Among his scholars was Gerbert, afterwards elevated to
the pontificate by the name of Silvester II. His desire
for learning could not be gratified by what was known
among the Christians ; he therefore travelled into Spain,
and studied among the Arabs, in their celebrated schools
of Cordova and Grenada. He soon went beyond his mas-
ters in mathematics, and on his return to France he wrote
a book on geometry, which has been published by the
learned authors of Thesaurus .inecciotorum JVo-vissimus,
and from which it appears that he was acquainted with the
geometry of Euclid and Archimedes. It is a work on
practical geometry, in which he gives rules for measur-
ing heights and distances, by means of an instrument
which he calls Horoscopus.

Gerbert had imitators in his own age, and in that which
followed it. Among the first was Adelbold, who wrote a
small treatise on the solidity of the sphere. It appears he
knew what had been done in this matter by Archimedes,
but his own reasoning is vague and ungeometrical. About
the year 1050, Hermann Contractus wrote several treatises
on mathematics, and in particular one on the quadrature
hi the circle.

The twelfth century, notwithstanding the ignorance of
the period, presents some mathematicians. The English
monk Adhelard travelled into Spain and Egypt ; and on
his return he translated Euclid from Arabic into Latin.
He appears to have been the first that made this author
known io the West; but his work exists only in the libra-

ries. Adhelard had various imitators among his country-
men, as Daniel Morlay, Robert of Reading, William Shell,
ClemcntLangtown: They lived towards the end of this cen-
tury, as did also Robert, bishop of Lincoln, called Grota-
liead, the author of a short treatise on the sphere, and his
brother Adam Marsh. Roger Bacon, himself a mathema-
tician, and their cotemporary in his youth, speaks highly
of theii skill in geometry. Passing over vaiious writers
on astronomy, we shall only farther mention Plato of Ti-
voli, who, about the year 1120, translated the Spherics of
Theodosius from the Arabic into barbarous Latin.

The thiiteenth century was brilliant when compared
with the ages that had gone before ; it was the twilight of
that bright day which has enlightened Europe for upwards
of 200 years. Among the mathematicians of this time may
be reckoned John of Halifax, called also Sacro-Bosco, who
wrote a treatise on the sphere, and Campanus of Navarre,
the celebrated translator of Euclid, and the author of a trea-
tise on the quadrature of the circle ; in whicii he has sup-
posed that the approximate ratio found by Archimedes was
quite exact; and proceeding on this, he lias resolved some
problems relating to tiie circle : His paralogism is excusa-
ble, in consideration of the time in which he lived. The
celebrated Albertus Magnus wrote on geometry in this
century.

It is instructive to reflect upon the principles in human
nature, by which, after ignorance has debased the mind,
knowledge is again renovated. In the dark ages, when the
true causes which bring about natural events were un-
known or but little understood, the piinciple in the mind,
by which men are led to suppose co-existing events as
somehow connected, made them conjecture that the mo-
tions of the heavenly bodies, the most striking phenomena
of nature, were closely connected with the common events
of life. In this way, probably, astrology became a disease
of the mind in the absence of genuine knowledge; but in
pursuit of this delusion, it was necessary to cultivate astro-
nomy, and this science again required the immediate aid of
geometry. Thus we see, that from the very nature of the
human understanding, it has a tendency to emerge from
ignorance, and that probably we are indebted for the resto-
ration of the ancient astronomy and geometry to the vain
speculations of judicial astrology.

During the 14th century, England was fertile in mathe-
maticians. They wrote treatises on arithmetic and geome-
try, but chiefly on astronomy. Their works, however, have
chiefly remained in the public libraries. The most re-
markable was Richard Wallingfort, who raised himself
from an obscure condition by his merit. The science of
geometry claims also the poet Chaucer as one of its culti-
vators. Even at this time, Britain gave indications of the
approach of that brilliant aera of discovery, which will for
ever render her illustrious among the nations.

The period now approached, in which geometry was to
recover more than its original splendour. Its principal pro-
moters were then Purbach anil John Muller, called also
Regiomontanus. They greatly improved trigonometry, and
formed the resolution of travelling together into Italy, to
study the Greek tongue ; but Purbach dying, Regiomonta-
nus went alone, and accomplished his purpose. Thus pre-
pared, he translated the Almagest of Ptolemy from the ori-
ginal. He also gave Latin versions of the spiierics of Me-
nelaus, those of Theodosius, and his other astronomical
treatises : besides, he corrected, by the Gyeek text, the an-
cient version of Archimedes made by Gerrard of Cremona.
He translated the Conies of Apollonius, the Cylindrics of
Serenus, and others of the ancient mathematicians He
commented on certain books of Archimedes, which Euto-

GEOMETRY.

653

cius had passed over: lie (Icfeiided Euclid's dcfinilion of
proportionals against Cainpatuis ; and lie refuted a pretend-
ed c|uadraturc of the circle by Cardinal Cusa.

Purbacli rejected the aiicittit sexigcsimal division of the
radius, and instead of it he supposed it to be divided into
600,000. Rcgiomontanus, again, improved on Furbaeli;
and, dividing- the radius into 1,000,000 parts, he calculated
new tables for every degree and minute of the quadrant,
adding, for the first time, the tangents. It was Purbach
that invented the geometrical scpiarc, and he appears to
have been the first that applied the plumb line to mark the
divisions on instruments.

Lucus Pacciolus, or De Burgo, must be reckoned one
of the distinguished cultivators of geometry of this period.
He revised Campanus's translation of Euclid, but his la-
bours did not appear until 1509. His work, Summade Arith-
metica Geometria, Ecc. 1494, contains a tolerable treatise on
geometry. The progress which had now been made in the
Greek tongue, and the invention of printing, contributed
greatly to the dissemination of geometrical knowledge.
The Greek mathematicians began now to be known in Eu-
rope ; and Euclid was printed for the first time at Venice
in 1482, in a folio volume, by Erhard Ratdolt, one of the
first printers of the age: its title wi^s, Praclarissimus liber
Eltmentorum Euclidis /lers/iicacissimiin artem geometric in-
cifiit quaJnfeticissime. And at the end we read. Opus Ete-
tnentorum Euclidis Megarensis in geometricam artem ; in id
giioque Camfiani fiersfncassimi commentationes. Eriiardus
Raldolt, jiugustensis im/iressor Solertissimus, Venetiis im-
firissit, anno saUttis MCCCCLXXXH. Oct. cat Junii. Eec-
tor vale. On the back of the title-page, there is a dedica-
tion to the reigning Doge.

Campanus's translation of Euclid was made from an
Arabic manuscript; but in 1505, Zamberti gave a transla-
tion from the original Greek. In the year 1518, the sphe-
rics of Theodosius appeared for the first time; and in 1537,
there came out a translation of the first four books (the
only ones then known) of Apollonius by Memmius. But
although Zamberti and Memmius might be good Greek
scholars, they had little geometrical knowledge ; and hence
their translations were in some measure imperfect. Com-
mandinus possessed both qualifications, and on that account
succeeded better. He translated into Latin, and published
in 1558, a part of the works of Archimedes, with a com-
mentary. The two books on floating bodies, of which the
Greek text has never been found, were published by him
in 1565. He gave, in the following year, the first four books
of ApoUonius's conies, with the commentary of Eutocius,
and the lemmas of Pappus. His Latin translation of Euclid
appeared in 1572. Geometry is also indebted to him for a
treatise on Geodesia, or the divisions of figures, by an Ara-
bian geometer: the original was furnished by John Dee,
an English mathematician. But his last and most impor-
tant work was his translation of the mathematical collec-
tions of Pappus, the only one that has yet appeared. It is
probable that, had it not been for his zeal in the cause of
mathematics, this treasure of geometrical knowledge would
still have been buried in the dust ol libraries. Commandi-
nus died in 1575, and his Pappus was printed after his
death in 1588.

Maurolycus of Messina distinguished himself both by his
editions of the ancients and his original works. In 1558, he
published a new translation of the spherics of Theodosius
from the Greek; to this he joined- the spherics of Mene-
laus from the Arabic, and two new books as a supplement.
He prepared an edition, or rather imitation, of Archimedes,
which was printed after his death ; and he treated of the
conic sections, deducing them elegantly from the cone it-
self. He made the useful remark in dialling, that the sha-

dow of the top of a style describes a conic section on a
plane.

Tartalea, one of the earliest cultivators of algebra, con-
tributed likewise to the revival of geometry. He made a
translation of Euclid's Elements into Italian, which appear-
ed in 1547. He also gave a Latin transhvtion of part of
Archimedes in 1543 ; he demonstrated the rule for4inding
the area of a triangle from its three sides; but the rule it-
self is probably of great antiquity, as it occurs in the Geo-
desia of Hero the younger.

Tlie very prolix commentary of Proclus on Euclid, was
given in a Latin translation by two mathematicians, Napoli-
tain and Barozzi. And there were many other translators
that would deserve notice in a history of geometry, if our
limits would permit ; but we cannot find room to notice par-
ticularly all the cultivators of the science in the 16th cen-
tury. ^Ve shall therefore only mention a few ; as Clavius,
whose translation and commentary on Euclid are still es-
teemed ; Benedictus, or Benedetto, mathematician to the
Duke of Savoy, whose writings shew that he was well ac-
quainted with the ancient geometrical analysis; Wolfius,
who wished to demonstrate even the axioms of geometry ;
and Ramus, the author of various esteemed works on the
science.

The celebrated Vieta, who flourished in France towards
the end of the I5th century, deserves particular notice. He
was profoundly skilled in the ancient geometry, and he re-
stored the book of Tangencics of Apollonius, in his Apollo-
nius Gallus, an exquisite model of geometrical eleL;ance.
He was the first that carried the approximate value of the
ratio of the diameter of a circle to its circumference as far
as eleven figures ; and to him we owe the doctrine of angu-
lar sections, one of the most elegant theories in geometry.

The Low Countries produced several geometers of dis-
tinguished merit ; as Metius, who found a very convenient
approximation to the ratio of the diameter of a circle to its
circumference, viz. that of 113 to 355 ; and Adrianus Ro-
manus, a geometer much esteemed in his lime. He car-
ried the approximation to the circumference'of the circles
as far as 17 decimal figures; and hence he was the plague
of all the pretenders to its quadrature ; for he was in every
case able to shew, that the lines which they supposed equal
to the circumference, were either greater than a polygon
described about the circle, or else less than a polygon in-
scribed in it. In this way he refuted Joseph Scaliger, who
imposed upon himself the task of squaring the circle as an
amusement, just to shew bis superiority to the plodding ma-
thematicians, who had long sought it in vain. He wrote a
treatise on Trigonometry, and was very successful in sim-
plifying the number of cases.

Spain and Portugal can number only two geometers of
note; the one was Nonius, or Nunez, who determined ele-
gantly the time of the shortest twilight, a problem which
seems for a long time to have puzzled James Bernoulli.
The other was John of Royas, a Caslilian, the inventor of a
projection of the sphere.

At this period, England abounded in mathematicians.
Robert Record, John Dee, Leonard and Thomas Digges,
and H. Billingsley, all concurred in cultivating geometry.
We are particularly indebted to Edward Wright for the in-
vention of his chart, which is improperly called Mercator's.
His book on the correction of certain errors in navigation,
indicates a geometry beyond that of his time.

Germany then produced but few geometers; it might,
however, boast of John Werner of Nuremburg. He wrote
on the conic sections ; he attempted to restore ApoUonius's
treatise on the section of a ratio; he also translated Euclid
from Greek into German, and cultivated trigonometry. His
writings, however, have not been printed. Other German

654

GEOMETRY.

mathematicians did not cultivate so suljlime a geometry.
Kheticus extended the tiigonometiical tables, and improv-
ed them by inseitinR the secants; and Pitisciis sliU farther
extended them in liis T/icariurus Mathcmatkus sive Canon
Sinuum, &;c. which contains the sines of every tenth second
of the quadrant to 16 figures, and l«r every second of the
first and last degree to 'iG figures, together with the first,
second, and in some cases the third difPerences. This is
one of the most remarkable monuments of human patience,
and is so much the more meritorious, that it was not ac-
companied with much renown.

We now enter upon the 17th century, the most fertile
of any in mathematical discoveries ; in fact, the progress
since made in the science is little more than their expan-
sion ; and whatever perfection it may attain in future ages,
a great share of the glory will belong to the period at which
^ve are now arrived.

One of the earliest geometers of the 17tli century was
Lucas Valerius, an Italian, and Professor of iNlathematics
at Rome. He determined the centre of gravity in complete
conoids and spheroids, as well as in their segments cut olf
by planes parallel to the base. Archimedes had resolved
this problem only in the case of the parabolic conoid ; and
Commandinus had extended the subject a little farther, to
the easiest cases; but Valerius went beyond them both.

Marinus Ghetaldus, a native of Ragusa, was well ac-
quainted with the ancient geometry. Guided by the indi-
cations of Pappus, he attempted to restore the lost book
of Apollonius on Inclinatians, in a work called J/io/ionius
JRedivivus. He also wrote a supplement to the ylfioUonius
Gallus of Vieta. He died on a mission to Turkey in 1609.

Alexander Anderson was one of the earliest of the Scot-
tish geometers. He appears to have been a friend or scho-
lar of Vieta, some of whose posthumous works he publish-
ed. He was well acquainted with the geometrical analysis;
and of this he has given proof in his Sufiplementum Ajiollo-
nii Eedivivi, where he endeavours to supply what Ghetal-
dus has left incomplete in his work. See Anderson.

The Low Countries produced in this period several ma-
thematicians, whose labours were conducive to the progress
of geometry. Ludolph Van Ceulen claims attention, on
account of the immensely long calculation by ivhich he de-
termined that the diameter of a circle being supposed 1,
the circumference will be between the number

3.14159,26535,89793,23846,26433,83279,50288,

and the same number increased by unity in the last figure.
It must be acknowledged that there was more patience than
genius displayed in this effort ; for he proceeded simply af-
ter the manner of Archimedes, inscribing polygons in a
circle, and describing others of an equal number of sides
about it, until he found an inscribed and circumscribing po-
lygon to agree in 56 figures. After the example of Ar-
chimedeg, he desired that this, his greatest discovery,
should be inscribed on his tomb. Geometry, however, de-
rived more real service from his other labours.

Willebrod Snellius was another of the Dutch mathema-
ticians : At the age of seventeen, he undertook to restore
Apollonius's book of Determinate Sectiotis, and he pub-
lished his divination with the title J/iononiun Batavus. He
also treated of the approximate value of the circumference
of a circle in his Cyclometria. He here shewed how Van
Ceulen might have greatly shortened his labour, by two li-
mits nearer to the circumference than the circumscribing
and inscribed polygons ; and he verified the calculation, by
computing the perimeter of a polygon of 1073741824 sides,
•which, according to the oUier method, would have given
only 20 figures of the number.

Albert Girard, another Fleming, was highly estimable

as a geometer. He was the first that found th6 surface of
a spherical triangle, or of a polygon bounded by great cir-
cles on the sphere. He deserves still more honour, how-
ever, for his divination of the Poriswa of l:luclid, if, as lie
asserted, he really had succeeded in restoring the work of
the ancient geometer. Unfortunately his labours on this
subject have never been published.

Want of room obliges us to pass over several whose re-
putation as geometers is excelled by tliat which they ac-
quired in other branches of mathematics : we must not,
however, omit the celebrated Kepler; he was the first
that had the boldness to introduce the name and the idea
of infinity into the language of geometry. The circle he
considered as composed of an infinite number of triangles,
having their vertices at the centre, and of which the bases
form the circumference ; and the cone, as made up of an
infinite number of pyramids, whose bases formed its base,
and which had with it a common vertex.

L$y the aid of these, and similar views, Kepler, in his
A'ar'u Sieieometria, a work on ganging, demonstrated, in a
direct manner, and with great brevity, those truths, which
the ancients had established by tedious and very peculiar
modes of reasoning. Kepler opened in this book a vast
field for speculation ) for, passing beyond the views of
Archimedes, he formed a multitude of new bodies, and he
investigated their solidities. Archimedes limited his en-
quires to those generated by the rotation of conic sections
about an axis, but Kepler treated of solids generated by
the rotation of these curves about any line whatever in
their plane. He thus considered ninety solids besides
those handled by the Sicilian geometer. Upon the whole,
this book contained views, which appear to have had great
influence on the improvements that soon afterwards took
place in geometry.

The problems proposed by Kepler probably led to the
invention of the methods of Guldin and Cavallerius. The
principal discovery of Guldin consisted in an application
which he made of a property of the centre of gravity, to
the measure of solids produced by revolution. " Every
figure," says he, " formed by the rotation of a line, or a
surface about an immoveable axis, is the product of the
generating quantity by the line described by its centre of
gravity. This principle, certainly one of the most beauti-
ful discoveries in geometry, was however known in the
days of Pappus ; for it is distinctly stated at the end of the
preface to his seventh book ; yet Guldin takes no notice of
the circumstance.

To Cavallerius we arc indebted for the doctrine of indi-
visibles, which he published in 1635. In this, he considec-
ed a line as made up of an infinite number of points, a sur-
face, of an infinite number of lines, and a solid, of an in-
finite number of surfaces : these elements of magnitudes
he called Indivisibles. The introduction of so bold a pos-
tulate into geometry, was opposed by some of his contem-
poraries ; but in answer, the Italian geometer explained
that this hypothesis was by no means an essential part of
his theory, which, in fact, was the same as the ancient
method of exhaustions, but free from its tedious and indi-
rect modes of reasoning.

In the first place, he considered such figures as had
their increasing or decreasing elements at equal heights
above the base, always in a given ratio ; and he shewed
that the figures themselves were to each other in the same
given ratio. Next, he .compared figures composed of an
increasing or decreasing series of elements, with others
in which the elements were all equal : for example, a cone,
which he considered as composed of an infinite number of
circles, increasing from the base to the vertex, with a cy-
linder, which is composed of an infinite number of circles>

GEOMETRY.

655

ail of the same size ; and to deteiniiiie tiie ratio of tlie con-
tents of the two solids, he found the ratio of tlie sum of the
decreasint; circles in the cone, to the sum of the circles
■which were equal to one another in the cylinder. In the
cone, these circles decrease fioni the base to tiic vertex as
the squares of the terms of an arilliinetical progression.
In other solids, they form otlicr progressions: lor exam-
ple, in the parabolic conoid, it is simply that of an arith-
inelical progression. The general object of the metliod is
to assign the ratio of tliis sum of an increasing or decreas-
ing series of terms, with that of the equal terms which
form an uniform and known figure of the same base and
aUitude. The method of indivisibles is now superseded by
the more extensive doctrine of fluxions; yet it was of im-
mense importance at the time it was invented, and in fact
was one step towards that grand discovery.

The French geometers pursued tlie same career of dis-
covery, and almost at the same ilmR as Cavulleiins ; they
even resolved more difficult problems. In 1636, Fcrmat
had found the area of a spiral, of a different nature from
that which Archimedes had handled; and soon afterwards,
he proposed to Roberval to determine the areas of parabo-
lic curves of the higher orders, (See Fekmat.) Roberval
cpiickiy resolved the problem ; and he also determined
their tangents. Fermat, again, on his part, found their
centres of gravity. Roberval claimed the merit of having
invented for himself a theory altogether similar to that of
Cavallerius, before the latter had made his known ; but as
his selfish views led him to conceal it, that he miglit tri-
umph over his contemporaries, he has but little claim on
the gratitude of posterity as a discoverer, although he de-
serves credit for his skill as a geometer. Roberval did not
venture to deviate so much from the common language of
geometry as Cavallerius ; he conceived his surfaces and
solids to be made up of an indefinite number of very nar-
now rectangles and thin prisms, which decreased according
to a certain law.

The celebrated Descartes contributed in no small de-
gree to the developement of these new and brilliant disco-
veries in geometry. Wiien Mursennus had sent him an
account of Fermal's method of finding the centre of gra-
vity of conoids, Descartes quickly sent him the determina-
tion of the centres of gravity of all parabolas, also their
general quadrature, their tangents, and the ratios of their
conoids.

It was in this period that the logarithmic spiral and cy-
cloid were brought into discussion ; the former was sug-
gested by Dcscaites, the latter was first noticed by Galileo.
See Epicycloid.

Passing over many geometers of ordinary merit, we
must notice Pascal, who, at the age of twelve, had such a
turn for geometry, that he undertook to construct a system
for himself, guided by the recollection of the conversations
which he had heard among the mathematicians that visited
his father, who was himself a mathematician. He had gone
as far as to discover that the three angles of any triangle
were equal to two right angles, when he was observed by
his father. At the age of 16, he is said to have composed
a treatise on conic sections, in which all that Apollonius
had demonstrated was elegantly deduced from a single
proposition: this was shewn to Descartes, but the philoso-
pher could not believe it to be the work of so young a geo-
meter. The hopes he had so early excited, and the ele-
gance of his disquisitions on the cycloid, gave geometers
reason to regret that a larger portion of his short life was
not dedicated to the science. He died in 1662, aged 39.

Gregory St Vincent, a Flemish mathematician, held a
respectable place among the geometers of his day. The

main object of his researches was the quadrature of the
circle, which he sought with the most persevering indus-
try through all the difficulties of the geometry of his time.
He even believed he had succeeded ; but in this he was
wrong : his researches, however, procured him a rich har-
vest of other geometrical truths.

Andrew Tacquet, another Flemish mathematician, was
a respectable geometer. He endeavoured to extend the
boundaries of the science by a treatise on the mensuration
of the surface and solidity of bodies formed by cutting a
cylinder in different ways by a plane, and of different solids
formed by the revolution of segments of circles and conif.
sections. In treating of these, he has affected the rigorous
style of the ancient demonstration, a thing not entitled to
commendation, considering that it was by adopting a more
brief style, and new views, that the science was then re-
ceiving great iinprovement.

The celebrated Huygens was one of the brightest orna-
ments of that period. At an early age, he published his
Tlieoremata de Circuit el /ly/i. quad. He completed what
Snellius had done concerning approximations to the circle,
in his work De Circ-uli Magnitudine inventa ; these were
the labours of his youth : afterwards he found the surface
of conoids and spheroids, a problem which, on account of
its difficulty, had not been attempted before his time. He
determined the measure of the cissoid; he shewed how to
reduce the problem of the rectification of curve lines to
that of quadratures; and Ive invented the theory of invo-
lutes and evolutes. His treatise De Horologio Oscillatorio,
is the finest specimen that has ever been given of the ap-
plication of the most profoimd geometry to mechanics. In
short, his name is associated in the history of geometry
with some of the most brilliant discoveries that have been
made in the science.

Our countryman, James Gregory, also stands in the very
highest class as a geometer. He treated of the quadrature
of the circle, and gave Ijetler methods of approximating to
it than were known before his time. Fie attempted to shew
that the complete solution of the problem was a thin"- im-
possible ; but the correctness of his reasoning was ques-
tioned by Huygens. In 1668, Gregory published his Geo-
melria /mm Universalir,, which gave the first idea of the
logarithmic curve, and contained many curious theorems,
useful for the transformation and quadrature of curvilineal
figures, for the rectification of curves, and for the measure
of their solids of revolution, &c. He wrote various other
works, some of which belong rather to the modern analysis
than to the ancient geometry. The excellence of his wri-
tings, and their rareness, has induced Mr Baron Maseres
to reprint them at his sole expence, as a testimony of his
estimation of the author's merit, and to make the elegance
of his views, and the extent of his claims as a discoverer,
bet;er known. Our matliematical readers will readily re.-
collect, that this is not the only obligation of the kind that
this worthy man has conferred upon science. See Gue-

GORY.

Dr Barrow next claims our attention by his admirable
geome;rical writings; his geometrical lectures are com-
posed partly in the style of the ancient, and partly in that
of the modern geometry. He had the high honour of be-
ing tl-iC geometrical tutor of Newton, to whom he resigned
his mathematical professorship, with a view to dedicate his
lime to theological studies ; but seduced from his purpose
by his favourite science, he did homage to it, by giving an
edition of the writings of Archimedes, Apollonius,' and
Thcodosius. Such was this excellent man's estimation of
geometry, that he considered the contemplation of it as not
unworthy of the Deity, The beginning of his Apollonius was

656

GEOMETRY.

inscribed with llie words, &it( •yio/A.ir^a, Tu autem Domine,
(juantus es geometra, " God liiniself ycometrizcs ; O Lord,
liovv great a p;eometer thou art !"

In Italy, Toriicelli, the disciple of Galileo, cultivated
geometry: with such a iii:ister, it is easy to conceive any
degree of excellence in the scholar. Among other geo-
metrical enquiries, he treated of the solid formed by the
rotation of a hyperbola about its asymptote; and he shewed
that it had a finite magnitude, a thing which may appear
paradoxical, wlicn it is considered that the generating sur-
face is infinitely great.

Borelli also claims attention on account of his editions of
Euclid, Apollonius, and Aichimedes, works remarkable for
their brevity and perspicuity ; and also because of his efforts
in translating from the Arabic tlircc books of the Conies of
Apollonius, which were then supposed to have been lost.
See Conic Sections.

Viviani, anotlrer disciple of Galileo, must here also be
noticed. His geometrical writings were of tlie most ele-
gant and valuable kind. We have spoken, in our treatise
on Conic Sections, of his restoration of the Conies of
Apollonius; and in our treatise on Fluxions, (art. 165.) oi
his beautiful problem concerning the quadrature of a por-
tion of the surface of a sphere.

We have already noticed some of Descartes's geometri-
cal labours, but his main effort, for which his name will be
handed down to posterity with honour, was his application
of algebra to geometry ; an invention by which the proper-
ties ol geometrical figures were represented by equations.
His Geometri/, which contains his views on this subject,
was published first in 1657. The union of geometry and
algebra promoted very much the discovery of the new cal-
culus, the germ of which lay concealed in the method of
exhaustions of the ancients, was partly evolved by Caval-
lerius, and still farther in the arithmetic of infinites of Dr
Wallis, and, lastly, fully expanded by Newton and Leibnitz.
The histoiy of geometry becomes now interwoven with
that of the modern analysis, and is chiefly interesting by
the extent to which tlie science has been carried by that
powerful instrument of invention.

Although the ancient geometry was thus in a manner
supplanted by the modern theories, the science by no
means lost its interest. Sir Isaac Newton held it in such
esteem, that he delivered his sublime discoveries in its lan-
guage, and established their truth by its peculiar mode of de-
monstration. The conic sections, one of its earliest and most
profound theories, acquired a value by its application to as-
tronomy, far beyond what it ever had when considered
merely as an object of intellectual speculation ; and the
learning and yeniiis of Halley and Gregory were employ-
ed in restoring and biinging into view the precious re-
mains of Euclid and Apollonius.

For upwards of a century, the physico-mathematical
sciences have very much engaged the attention of mathe-
maticians ; but in these, the ancient geometry afibrds a
very limited degree of aid in comparison to the modern :
hence no doubt it has happened, that the venerable theo-
ries of the ancients have been less noticed. There have,
however, been some who have sedulously cultivated them,
and endeavoured to restore them to their former impor-
tance; and this spirit has been particulaily manifested in
Britain. It is a curious circumstance, that when the sub-
tile reasonings of the ingenious Bishop of Cloyne had rais-
ed doubts as to the justness of the high claims of the doc-
trine of fluxions, the boast of the modern analysis, the in-
genious Maclaurin thought the safest course he could fol-
low was, to call geometry to its aid, and to explain its prin-
ciples in the clear style, although circuitous manner, of the
ancients.

Passing over several foreigners who have cultivated geo-
metry in the 18th century, as well as natives of Britain, for
whose particular labours we cannot find room, we must
notice the celebrated Scottish geometer Dr Robert Sim-
son. To him we are indebted for a treatise on conic sec-
tions, composed on the model of the ancients; also for re-
storations of the Plane Loci of Apollonius, and the books
of determinate sections; but more especially for his resti-
tution of thd Porisms of Euclid: a task which we are not
certain was ever accomplished by any geometer before his
time; although Albert Girard, as we have already observ-
ed, claimed a like honour. His edition of the first six, and
the eleventh and twelfth books of Euclid's Elements, has
now in a manner su|)crsedcd all others in this country, and
is almost universally taught in our schools.

Dr Mathew Stewart, the friend of Simson, was another
geometer, whose writings and example have greatly con-
tributerl to establish n coi rcct taste for this study in Scot-
land. His first essay was, a Collection of General Theo-
rems; the most elegant of any that are known in the whole
compass of mathematics. They were given without de-
monstrations, except a few of the more simple, which he
has proved with a degree of elegance that renders them
the finest models of geometrical reasoning. His tracts,
physical and mathematical, his essay on the sun's distance,
and his solution of Kepler's problem, are attempts to ap-
ply pure geometry to the sublimest inquiries in astronomy.
His partial success has shewn what may be accomplished
by the force of genius; and the points in which he has
failed serve also to shew, that even in such a masterly hand,
the geometrical method is still limited in its application,
and can by no means be compared in power with the mo-
dern geometry. This excellent geometer published also
a work entitled Profiositionea Geometries^ More Veteruin
demonstraiXy ad Geometriam Antiquam illustrandam et firo-
movendam idonex, which we reckon one of the most valua-
ble that could be put into the hands of a student that is
previously acquainted with the elements, and is desirous
of learning the true spirit of the ancient geometry. To
such of our readers as wish to appreciate the high merit
of these two geometers, we recommend the Rev. Dr Traill's
excellent life of Dr Simson (1812), and an elegant biogra-
phical account of Dr Stewart, composed by Mr Playfair,
and read before the Royal Society of Edinburgh, {Edin.
Phil. Trans, vol. i.) See also the articles Simson and Stew-
art in our Work.

Regretting that our limits oblige us to omit many Brit-
ish geometers, whose names deserve preservation, we shall
yet mention two; the Rev. Mr Lawson, author of a Dis-
sertation on the Geometrical Analysis of the Ancients,
and English editions of the Tangencies and Determinate
Section of Apollonius; and Dr Horsley, Bishop of St
Asaph. This learned prelate has given a restoration of
Apollonius' work on Inclinations, also a neat edition, in
Latin, of Euclid's Elements, besides other works on geo-
metry. For farther information relative to the history of
geometry, the reader may consult the articles Analysis,
Arithmetic of Sines, Conic Sections, Curves, Dial-
ling, Epicycloid, and otiier branches of mathematics that
are to follow the present article ; also the biographical ac-
counts of mathematicians contained in our work. We
shall now give a select catalogue of the principal works
which have been written on geometry, particularly those
which exhibit the progress of its improvement. Such as
relate to conies have been already enumerated in Conic
Sections, and those that treat of Trigonometry will be
indicated in that article.

On the history of geometry, consult Montucla, Hialoire
de Mathetnatifjues, (2d edit.) Bossut's General History of

GEOMETRY.

657

Mathematics in French, of which tlicvc is an English trans-
lation, and Dr Hutton's Dictionary, (2d edit. 1815.)

Euclid, The Elements of Geometry. Of this tlierc are
very many editions; the first is that ol Ratdolt, 1482. There
is an elegant Greek and Latin edition ot his works by Dr
Gregory, Oxford 1703. Perhaps the most valuable is that
of Peyrard, in Greek, Latin, and French, of which the first
six books are now published. Dr Barrow's edition of all
the books, and the Data, and Dr Horsley's of the first 12,
from thf Latin versions of Comniandinc and Gregory, and
the Data, are valuable. Simson's edition of the first six, and
the 11th and 12tl) books, and the Data; and Playfair's edi-
tion, the first SIX, (the same as Simson's) and three addi-
tional books en solids, are most commonly used.

Euclid's Porisms have been restored by Dr Simson in
his Ofxera Reliqua, 1776.

Archimedes; the best editions are Torelli's in Greek
and Latin, Oxford, 1792 ; and Peyrard's French translation,
Paris, 1808. The first edition of the Greek text was that
of Venatorius, in 1544.

Apollonius; the writings that have been recovered of
this celebrated geometer are :—

1. The Section of a Ratio; and, 2. The Section of a Sfiace.
These have been restored by Snellius, 1607^ and by Dr
Halley, 1706.

3. Determinate Section; Snellius restored these in his
AfioUonius Batavus, 1601. There is an English transla-
tion by Lawson, to which is added a new restoration by
Wales, 1772. Simson has restored this work in his 0/ie-
ra Religua, 1776; and Gianinni, an Italian geometer, in
1773.

4 Tangencies ; Vieta restored this in his A/ioUonius
Gallus, 1600. Some additions were made by Ghetaldus,
and others by Alexander Anderson, in 1612. The labours of
Vieta and Ghetaldus have been given in English by Law-
son, 1771.

5. The Plane Loci; these have been restored by Schoo-
ten, 1656; and Fermat, 1679; but the best restoration is
that of Dr Simson, 1749.

6. The Inclinations ; these were restored by Ghetaldus,
in his Jfiollonius Redivivus, 1607 : To this there is a Sup-
plement by Anderson, 1612. There is also a restoration
by Dr Horsley, 1770; and another by Reuben Burrow,
1779.

Theodosius and Menelaus : These were published by
Maurolicus in 1558, and Burrow gave Theodosius in 1675.
There is also an Oxford edition by Hunter, in 1707.

Proclus, Commenlariorum in Priinum Euclidis librum Li-
bri iv. Latine vertit F. Baroccius, 1560. Proclus has also
been given in English by Taylor, 1788.

Eratosthenes, Gcometria, is'c. cum annot. 1672.

Veteru7n Ulathematicorum jllhenai, Bitonis, A/iollodori,
Herunis, Philonis, el aliorum, Ofiera Gr. ei Lat. 1693.

Lucas de Burgo, Summa de jirithmetica, Geometria, &c.
1494.

Albert Durer, Institutiones Geometries, 1532.

'Rnico, De Quadratura Circuli. 1559.

Ramus, Arithmelice, lib. ii Geometrtce, lib. xxvi. 1580.

Vieta, Ofiera Mathematica, 1589.

Vieta, Variorum de reb math, res/ionsorum, lib. viii. 1596.

Lucas Valerius, De centru Gravilatis Solidorum, 1604.

'McUwi, Arilhmet. et Geomet. firact. 1611.

Anderson, Sujililementum Ajiollon'd Redivivi- 1612.

AiTioAoyi* Pro Zetetico Afiolloniani Jiroblema-

tis a se jam firidem edilo in Su/i. A/iot. Red. 1615-

Theoremata KaSofuKtre^x A. Fr. Vieta Fonte-

racensi excogitata. Sec. 1615.

Vol. IX. Part II.

Anderson, Vindicis Archimcdis, &c. 1616.

Kxer. Mathemat Sec. 1619.

Kepler, JVova Stcrcomctria, Sec. 1618.
V^an Ceulcn, De Circulo ct adscri/itis, 1619.
Snellius, Cxjclomelricus, 1621.

La Faille, Theoremata de centra Gravitatis fiartium cir-
culi et eili/isis, 1632

Guildin, De Centra Gravitatis, 8cc. 1635.
Cavallerius, Gcometria indrvisibilium continuorum nov4
(jtiudam ratione /iromota, 16j5.

Cavallerius, Fxercitationcs Geomctrica, 1647.
Des Cartes, Geometric, 1637.
Toricelli, 0/iera Geomctrica, 1644.

Gregory St Vincent, Ofius Gcometricum quadratum cir-
culi et Sectionum Coni, 1647.

Oughtred, Clavis mathematica, 1653.
Schooten, Exer. Mathcmaticorum, lib. v. 1657.
Pascal, A. Dettonville Eettrcs (on the Cycloid) 1659.
Ricci, Exercit. Geom. de ma.v. et minimia. 1666.
James Gregory, Vera Circuli et Hyficrbola Quadratura,
1657.

James Gregory, Geometric Pars Universalis, 1668,
James Gm^ovy, Exercitationes Geometries, 1668.
Tacquet, Ojiera Omnia Mathematica, 1669.
Huygens, Ofiera, collected by s'Gravesande, 1751.
Barrow, Z,fc«iorae« Ofiticcs et Geomelrica, 1674.
Barrow, Lectioncs Mathematics, 1683.
David Gregory, Exer. de dimen. E'igttrarum, 1684.

David Gregory, Practical Geometry, 1745.
De Onierique, Analysis Geomctrica, 1698.
Sharp, Geometry Improved, Sec. 1718.

Stewart, General Theorems, 1745.
Stewart, Profiositiones Geometries, 1763.

R. Simson, Ojiera quedam Reliqua, 1776.

Traill, Life of R. Simson. 1812.

Thomas Simpson, Elements of Geometry, 1747, and
1760.

Thomas Simpson, Select E.rercises, 1752. •

Boscovich, Elimenta UnixiersiC Mathcseos, 1754.

Montucla, Histoire des Recherchcs sur la quadrature de
Cercle, 175 4.

Emerson, Elements of Geometry, 1763.

Lawson, A Dissertation on the Geometrical Analysis of
the Ancients.

Lavvson, A Synopsis of Data for constructing Triangles,
1773.

West, Elements of Mathematics, 1784.

L'Huillier, Polygonoinetrie.

Lacroix, Elemens de Geometric descrifitive, 1795.

Mascheroni, Geometrie du Com/ias, 1798.

Mascheroni, Traite d'ArJientage.

Monge, Geometrie Descrifitive, 1799.

Playiair, Origin and Investigation of Porisms. Edin.
Trans, vol. iii.

Wallace, Geometrical Porisms. Edin. Trans, vol. iv.

Carnot, Geometrie de Position, 1803.

Legendre, Elements de Geometrie, ninth edit. 1812.

Leslie, Elements of Geometry, Geometrical Analysis, and
Plane Trigonometry, 2cl edit. 1811.

The three books which Mr Leslie has given on the Geo-
metrical Analysis, are a great acquisition to elementary
geometry.

Creswell, On Geometrical Maxima and Minima.

To such as are entering on the study of geometry, we
would recommend any one of the following works : Sim-
son's Euclid, Playfair's Geometry, Legendre Geometric,

4 O

658

GEOMETRY.

Leslie's Geometry. Indeed, we would recommend the
perusal of Lcgendre's work with any of the others. We
have chiefly kept it in view in drawing up the following
article.

Every one has a distinct idea of a body or solid. It is
extended in three directions, that is, it has length, breadth,
and thickness. We easily conceive that there is something
which bounds a solid, or which separates the space it fills
from space in general ; that boundary is a surface, which
can manifestly have only two dimensions, viz. length and
breadth.

A surface again has a boundary, or something that may
separate a portion of it from the remainder, that is, a line,
which can have but one dimension.

Again, there is something that terminates a line, or which
indicates where one portion of it ends, and another begins ;
this is a fioint, which can neither have length, 1)readth, nor
thickness. Here, then, we have three different species of
magnitude, viz. solids, surfaces, and lines, which Jorin the
object of geometrical discussion.

The elements of geometry are commonly divided into
two Parts ; one treats of the properties of lines and figure?
described upon a filane surface; and the other relates to
the properties of solids : the former is sometimes called
Plane, and the latter Solid geometry.

Paut I. OF LINES AND FIGUHES UPON A PLANE.

WE have seen how the general ideas of a surface, a line,
and a point, may be acquired from the consideration of a
solid. The elements of geometry admit of only two lines,
the straight line, and the curve. The straight line serves
to determine the nature of the surface called Sl plane ; and
from both we get a correct notion of a circle. But the na-
ture of these, and the other things to be discussed, will be
particularly explained in the following Sections by precise
definitions.

SECTION I.

The Principles of Geometry.

Dejinitiona,

1. A jioint is that which has position, but not magnitude.

2. A line is length without breadth.

CoR. The extremities of a line are points, and the inter-
sections of one line with another arc also points.

3. A straight line is the shortest way from one point to
another.

4. Every line which is neither straight, nor composed of
straight lines, is a curve line.

Thus, in Fig. 1. Plate CCLXX. AB is a straight line,
and ACB a curve line.

5. A surface, or sufierjicies, is that which has only length
and breadth.

CcR. The extremities of a superficies are lines, and the
intersections of one superficies with another are also lines.

6. Aficane superficies is that in which any two points
being taken, the straight line between them lies wholly in
that superficies.

7. Every surface which is neither a plane, nor composed
of plane surfaces, is a curve surface.

8. A plane rectilineal angle is the inclination of two
straight lines to one another, which meet together, but are
not in the same straight line. The point in which the lines
meet one another is called the vertex of the angle ; and the
lines are called its sides.*

N. B. When several angles are at a point A (Fig. 6.)

any one of them is expressed by three letters, of which the
letter that is at the vertex of the angle is put between the
other two, and one of these is somewhere upon one of the
straight lines, and the other upon the other line. Thus, the
angle which is contained by AB and AC is named the angle
CAB or BAC ; that which is contained by AB and AD ij
named the angle DAB or BAD ; and that which is contain-
ed by AC and AD is called the angle CAD or DAC. But
if there be only one angle at a point, as in Fig. 2. it may
be expressed by a letter placed at that point, as the angle
at A, or the angle A.

9. When a straight line standing on another straight line
makes the adjacent angles equal to one another, each of
the angles is called a right angle ; and the straight line
which stands on the other is called a. fierpendicular. (Fig. 7.)

10. An obtuse angle is that which is greater than a right
angle (Fig. 8.) ; and an acute angle is that which is less
tlian a right angle (Fig. 9.)

11. Parallel straight lines are such as are in the same
plane, and which being produced ever so far both ways, do
not meet. (Fig. 10.)

12. A filane figure is that which is enclosed by one or
more lines on a plane. If the lines are straight, the space
they enclose is called a rectilineal figure, and the lines
themselves are called hs perimeter. See Fig. 11, 12, &c.
to Fig. 22.

13. A rectilineal figure having three sides is named a
triangle ; a figure of four sides is called a quadrilateral ;
that of five sides is a pentagon ; that of six sides is a hexa-
gon, and so on. Figures of more than four sides are like-
%vise called polygons.

14. An er/ui'lateral triangle is that which has its three
sides equal (Fig. 11.) An isosceles triangle is that which
has only two equal sides (Fig. 12.), and a scalene triangle
that which has all its sides unequal. (Fig. 13.)

15. A right angled triangle is that vvhich has a right an-
gle. The side opposite to the right angle is called the hy-
pothenuse (Fig. 14.)

An obtuse angled triangle is that which has an obtuse an-
gle (Fig. 15.)

' To get an accurate notion of the nature of an angle, we may suppose that tlie angle contained by the straight lines AB and AC (Fig. 2.)
is successively compared with the angles contained bj- the line's DE and DF (Fig 3.) \ and D'K' .and D'F' (Fig. i. and 5.) First, suppose that
the line AC (Fig. 2.) is placed on the line DF (Fig. 3.) so that the point A may tall on D; then, if AC coincide with DF, the angle contained
by AU and AC is ecjual to the angle contained by DE and DF. But if, when AC is placed on DF' (Fig. 4. and Fig. 5 ) and A on D', tiie line
AB do not fall on D E', but has another position DG; then the angle contained by AB and M: is not equal to the angle contained by D'E' and
D'F' : It is greater if D'E' fall between Dr, and D'F', as in Fig. 4 ; but it is less if DG ail between D'F/ .-ind D'F', as in Fig. 5.

An angle may be made up of several angles; thus, in Fig. 6. the angle cont.ained by the lines AB and AD is the sum of the two angles con-
tained by AB and AC, and by AC and AD If these are equal, it is double any one of them.

Hence it appears, that, like other quantities, angles admit of addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division.

GEOMETRY.

659

An acute angled triangle is that which has all its angles
acute (Fig. 16.)

16. Among four-sided figures the following are distin-
guished by particular names :

Asfuare is that which has all its sides equal, and all its
angles right angles (Fig. 17.)

A rectangle is that which has its angles right angles, but
.its sides not equal (Fig. 18.)

A rhombus is that which has all its sides equal, but its
angles are not right angles (Fig. 19.)

Afiarallelograin, or rhomboid, is that which has its oppo-
site sides parallel (Fig. 20.)

A Irapezium is that of which the opposite sides are not
parallel (Fig. 21.)

A trafiezoid is that of which only two of the opposite sides
are parallel (Fig. 22.)

1". The. diagonal oi a figure is a straight line which joins
the vertices of two angles which are not adjacent. Thus,
in Fig. 48. AC, AD, AE, Sec. are diagonals of the figure
ABCDEFG.

18. An equilateral polygon is that which has all its sides
equal ; an equiangular polygon is that of which all the an-
gles are equal.

19. Two polygons are equilateral between themselves
■when their sides are equal each to each, taken in the same
order ; that is, when going round the two figures, a side of
the one is equal to a side of the other, the next side of the
one to the next side of the other, and so on. In a like sense,
polygons are equiangular. In either case, the equal sides
or angles are called homologous sides or angles.

Mxfilanation of Terms and Signs.

An axiom is a self-evident truth.

A theorem is a truth which becomes evident by a process
of reasoning called a demonstration.

K firoblem is something proposed to be done: or it is a
question that requires a solution.

A lemma is a truth premised to facilitate the demonstra-
tion ot a theorem, or the solution of a problem.

The common name profiosition is given indifferently to a
theorem, a problem, or a lemma.

A corollary is a consequence which follows from one or
several propositions.

A scholium is a remark upon one or several propositions
going before, tending to explain their connection, their
utility, their restriction, or their extension.

A hyfiothesis is a supposition made either in the enuncia-
tion of a proposition, or in the course of a demonstration.

For the sake of brevity, it is convenient to employ, to a
certain extent, the signs of algebra in geometry. Those
we shall chiefly employ are of the most simple nature, viz.
the signs -f, — , =, "Z^, -^il. Their meaning is fully ex-
plained in the beginning of Algebii.\, articles 19,20, 21,
22, and 23 ; and to that place we refer the re,adcr. Otiicrs
that may occur will be explained as we proceed,

AXIOMS.

1. Things whicli arc equal to the same thing are equal
to one another.

2. If equals be added to equals, the wlioles arc equal.

3. If equals be taken from equals, the remaindcra are
equal.

4. If equals be added to unequals, the wholes are un-
equal.

5. If equals be taken from unequals, the remainders arc
unequal.

6. Things which are double of the same, are equal to one
another.

7. Things which are halves of the same, are equal to one
another.

8. Magnitudes which coincide with one another, that is,
which exactly fill the same space, are equal to one another;

9. The whole is greater than its part.

10. Only one straight line can be drawn from one point
to another.

1 1 . Two straight lines cannot be drawn through the same
point parallel to the same straight line, without coinciding
with one another.

Postulates.

1. Let it be granted, that a straight line may be drawn
from any one point to any other point.

2. Tliat a terminated straight line may be produced to
any length in a straight line.

3. And that a circle may be described on any centre at
any distance from that centre.*

Note. The references in the following treatise are to be
understood thus: (4.) means the 4th Prop, of the section
in which it occurs. (Cor. 4.) means the corollary to the
4th Prop. (2 Cor. 4.) means the 2d Cor. to Prop. 4. (4. 3.)
means the 4th Prop, in the 3d section of the Part in which
it occurs. Again, (5. 4. P. I.) means the Sth Prop, of the
4th section of Part. I. and so on.

Proposition I. Theorem.

All right angles are equal among themselves.

Let the straight line CD, (Plate CCLXX.) be perpendi-
cular to AB, and GH to EF ; the angles ACD, EGH shall
be equal to one another. Take the four equal distances
CA, CB, GE, GF ; then AB shall be equal to GF. Sup-
pose now the line EF to be placed upon AB, so that E may
coincide with A, and F with B ; the lines EF, AB must co-
incide; for otherwise, two different straight lines might be
drawn from one point to another, which is impossible, (Ax.
10.) Therefore the point G, the middle of EF, will fall
upon the point C, the middle of AB. Now, the line GE
thus coinciding with the line CA, the line GH will coincide
with CD; for if it could have any other position, as CK,
then because the angle EGM is equal to IIGF, by hypo-
thesis, (Def 9.), it would follow tl.at the angle ACK would
be equal to KCB, and consequently the angle ACD would
be less than BCK, and therefore much less than BCD,
which is impossible, because the angle ACD ought to be
equal to the angle BCD, (Def. 9.) Therefore it would be
absurd to suppose that GH did not coincide with CD, con-
sequently the angle ACD is equal to EGH.

• According to the strict method of Euclid, before any line is supposed to be di-.awn, or any figure constructed, the manner of doing jt
should be shewn. There is, however, some convenience in abating a little of this rigour, so far as to take tor granted, that, tor the purpose
of demonstrating a theorem, lines may be drawn in a proposed manner, and certain figures constructed, although the manner ot drawing the
lines and constructing the figures may not have been explained. This concession, however, is to be confined entirely to the theorems, and by
no means to be extended to the problems.

The three postulates in the test ai>e all that are absolutely requisite in a system of geometry.

4 G 2

660

GEOMETRY.

Pnop. H. TiiF.ou.

Any straight line CD (Fitj. 24.) which meets another
straight line AB makes with it two adjacent angles ACD,
BCD, which taken together are equal to two right angles.

At the point C, let a straight line CE be drawn perpen-
dicular to An. The angle ACD is the sum of the angles
ACE, ECD ; therefore, ACD + DCB shall be the sum of
the three angles ACE, ECD, DCB, (axiom 2) ; the first of
these is a right angle, and the two otiicrs make together a
right angle : therefore, the sum of the two angles ACD,
BCD is equal to two right angles.

Corollary 1. If one of the angles ACD, BCD is a right
angle, the other is also a right angle.

Cor. 2. (fig. 25.) All the angles BAC, CAD, DAE,
EAF, which any number of straight lines make with an-
other line BE, are together equal to two right angles. For
their sum is equal to the two angles BAD and DAP, which
together make two right angles.

CoR. 3. (Fig. 26.) All the angles which any number of
lines AB, AC, AD, AE, &c. make about a point, are equal
to four right angles. For through A draw a straight line
PQ, then all the angles which the lines make on each side
of PQ are equal to two right angles : therefore, all the an-
gles on both sides, which make up the angles about A, are
equal to four right angles.

Prop. III. Theor.

If two adjacent angles ACD, (Fig. 27.) DCB are toge-
ther equal to two right angles, the two exterior sides AC,
CB form one continued straight line.

For, if CB be not the continuation of C A, suppose CE to
be its continuation ; tlien the sum of the angles ACD, DCE
is equal to two right angles, (2 ) But by hypothesis, the
sum of the angles ACD, DCB is equal to two right angles ;
therefore ACD-f-DCE=ACD-f DCB. (Ax. l.j And tak-
ing from each the angle ACD, there remains the angle
DCE equal to the angle DCB (Ax. 3.), a part equal to the
■whole, which is impossible, (Ax. 9.)

Prop. IV. Theor.

If two straight lines AB, (Fig. 28.) DE cut each other,
the vertical or opposite angles shall be equal.

For because DE is a straight line, the sum of the two
angles ACD, ACE is equal to two right angles, (2.) ; and
because AB is a straight line, the sum of the angles ACE,
ECB is equal to two right angles, (2.) ; therefore the sum
of the angles ACD, ACE is equal to the sum of the angles
ACE, ECB ; and taking away from each the common an-
gle ACE, there remains the angle ACD equal to the ver-
tical or opposite angle ECB.

Prop. V. Theop..

Two straight lines which have two common points coin-
cide entirely throughout their whole extent, and form but
one and the same straight line.

Let A and B (Fig. 29.) be the common points ; in the
first place, the two lines can make but one from A to B
(Ax. 10.) If it were possible that they could separate at
C, let us suppose that the, one takes the direction CD, and
the other the direction CE. At the point C, suppose CF to
be drawn perpendicular to AC ; then, because ACD is by

hypothesis a straight Vine, the angle FCD is a rPght angle,
(Def. 9.) ; in like manner, because ACE is supposed a
straight line, the angle FCE is a right angle ; therefore, the
angles FCD, FCE are equal, (1.); but this is impossible,
(Ax. 9.) ; therefore, the straight lines which have two com-
mon points A, B cannot separate, but must form one conti-
nued line.

Prop. VI. Theor.

Two triangles arc equal, when an angle, and the two
sides which contain ii in the one, are equal to an angle, an4
the two sides which contain it in the other, each to each.

Let the angle A (Fig. 30.) be equal to the angle D, the
side AB equal to the side DE, and the side AC equal to
the side DF ; the triangles ABC, DEF shall be equal.

Suppose the triangle ABC to be placed upon the trian-
gle DEF, so that AB may be on DE ; then, because the an-
gles A and D are equal, AC will fall on DF, and because
AB=DE, and AC = DF, the points B, C will fall on the
points E, F ; therefore the base BC will coincide with the
base EF (5.) ; and the triangles will coincide entirely ; there-
fore they are equal, (Ax. 8.)

CoH. Hence it follows, that the bases or third sides BC,
EF are equal, and that the remaining angles B, C of the
one, are equal to the remaining angles E, F of the other,
each to each, viz. those to which the equal sides are opposite.

Pnop. VII. Theor.

Two triangles are equal, when a side and two adjacent
angles of the one are equal to a side and two adjacent an-
gles of the other, each to each.

Let the side BC (Fig. 30 ) be equal to the side EF, the
angle B equal to the angle E, and the angle C equal to the
angle F; the triangles shall be equal.

For suppose the triangle ABC to be placed upon DEF,
so that their equal bases BC, EF may coincide ; then be-
cause the au;? •. s B, E are equal, the line BA will fall on ED;
and because t!'e .mglcs C, F are equal, the line CA will fall
on FD ; therefore the three sides of the one triangle will
coincide with the three sides of the other, and the triangles
will be equal.

CoR. Hence it appears that the remaining angles A, D
of the triangles are equal, and that the remaining sides AB,
AC of the one are equal to the remaining sides DE, DF of
the other, each to each, viz. those to which the equal angles
are opposite.

Prop. VIII. Theor.

Any two sides of a triangle arc together greater-fhan the
third.

For, in the triangle ABC, (Fig. 30.) the straight line BC
is the shortest line that can be drawn from B to C, there-
fore BC is less than BA-f AC.

Prop. IX. Theor.

If from any point O (Fig. 31.) within a triangle ABC,
straight lines OB, OC are drawn to the extremities of the
base BC, their sum is less than the sum of the two sides
AB, AC.

Produce BO until it meet AC in D ; the line OC is less
than OD-f DC, (8), and adding to these unequals BO, we

GEOMETRY.

661

have BO+OC.,ilBO+OD+DC, (Ax. 4 ) ; that is BO-J.
OCitBD + DC.

Id li.^e manner, BD.,^BA+AD; and adding DC, BD
+ r>r^ RA4-An + D(..thatibBD + DC,^BA + AC: but
■we huve havt found BO + OC.<:::CBD + DC ; much more
then is BO+OC,tfi.BA+ AC.

Prop. X. Tiieor.

If two sides AB, AC of a triangle ABC are equal to two
sides DE, DF of another triangle DEF, each to each, and
if the angle BAC contained by the former be greater than
the angle EDF contained by the latter ; the base BC of the
triangle which has the greater angle, shall be greater than
the base EF of the other triangle.

Make the angle CAG=D, take AG=DE or AB, and
join CG ; and because the triangles CAG, DEF have an
angle of the one equal to an angle of the other, and the sides
which contain these angles equal ; CG shall be equal to EF,
(6.) Now there may be three cases, according as the point
G falls without the triangle ABC, or on the side BC, or
witliin the triangle.

Case 1st, (Fig. 32.) Because GC is less than GI+IC,
and AB less than AI-f-IB, therefore GC+AB is less than
GI+AI+IC + IB, that is, GC + AB^^AG + BC ; from
these unequal sums take away AB, or its equal AG, and
there remains GC^^BC ; but GC=EF, therefore EF^i:!
BC.

Case 2d, (Fig. 33.) If the point G fall on BC, it is evi-
dent that GC, or its equal EF, is less than BC.

Case 3i\, (Fig. 34.) Lastly, if the point G fall within the
triangle, by Prop. 9. we have AG + GCi^AB-f BC ; and
taking away AG from one of these unequals, and AB= AG
from the other, we have GC.i£c::.BC.

Prop. XI. Theor.

Two triangles are equal when the three sides of the one
are equal to the three sides of the other, each to each.

Let the side AB (Fig. SO.) nDE, AC=:DF, and BCi=
EF, then shall the angle A=D, B— E, Cr:F. For if the
angle A were greater than D ; then as the sides AB, AC
are equal to the sides DE, DF, each to each, it would fol-
low (10.) that the side BC would be greater than EF" : And
if the angle A were less than D. then BC would be less than
EF : but BC is equal to EF, therefore the angle A can nei-
ther be greater nor less than D ; therefore A^D. In like
manner it may be proved that B~E and that C^F.

Scholium. It appears that in two equal triangles, the
equal angles are opposite to the equal sides, for the equal
angles A and D are opposite to the equal sides BC, EF.

Prop. XII. Theor.

In an isosceles triangle, the angles opposite to the equal
sides are equal.

Let the side AB (Fig. 35.) =AC, then shall the angle C
^B. For suppose AD to be drawn from the vertex A to
D, the middle of the base BC : Then the two triangles
ADB. ADC will have the sides of the one equal to the
sides of the other, each to each, viz. AB = AC, BD=CD,
and AD common to both ; therefore (1 1.) the angle ABD
shall be equal to the angle ACD.

CoR. An equilateral triangle is also equiangular.

Scholium. It appears by the demonstration, that the an-

gles BAD, CAD are equal; also that the angles BDA,
CDA are equal, and consequently right angles (Def. 9.):
Therefore a straight line drawn from the vertex of an isos-
celes triangle to the middle of the base bisects the vertical
angle, and is fierjiendicular to the base.

J\rote. In a triangle not isosceles, any side is taken for the
base, and the opposite angle is the vertex ; but in the isos-
celes triangle, the base is the side which is not equal to the
others.

Prop. XIII. Theor.

Conversely, if two angles of a triangle are equal, the op-
posite sides are equal, and the triangle is isosceles.

Let the angle ABC (Fig. 36.) =ACB ; the side AC shall
be equal to the side AB.

For if the sides are not equal, let AB be the greater of
the two. Take BD=AC, and join DC : The angle DBG
is by hypothesis equal to ACB, and the two sides DB, BC
are equal to the two sides AC, CB ; therefore (6.) the tri-
angle DBC is equal to ACB : now this is impossible, (Ax.
9.) for the triangle DBC is only a part of the triangle ACB,
therefore AB is not unequal to AC, that is AB=AC.

Prop. XIV. Theor.

Of two sides of a triangle, that is the greater which is op-
posite to the greater angle ; and conversely, of two angles
of a triangle, that is the greater which is opposite to the
greater side.

1. Let the angle ACB (Fig. 37.) be greater than B ; the
side AB opposite to the angle C is greater than the side
AC opposite to B. For make BCD = B ; then in the trian-
gle BCD, because the angles UCB and B are equal, we
have DC=DB (12.'); butAC is less than AD-fDC (8.),
and AD+DC=AD + DB=AB; therefore AB is greater
than AC.

2. Next let the side AB be greater than AC ; the angle
ACB opposite to AB shall be greater than B which is op-
posite to AC. For if ACB could be less than B ; then AB
would be less than AC, which is contrary to the hypothesis
of the proposition : And if ACB could be equal to B, then
AB would be equal to AC, which is also contrary to the hy-
pothesis ; therefore ACB must be greater than ABC.

Prop. XV. Theok.

From a point A (Fig. 38.) without a straight line DE,
only one perpendicular can be drawn <o that line.

For suppose it possible to Jraw two, AB, AC ; produce
one of them, so that BF ma)' be equal to AB, and join FC ;
and because AB=rBi'', and BC is common to the triangles
ABC, FBC, and the angles ABC, FBC are equal ; the an-
gle ACB is equal to FCB (6 ) therefore AC and CF must
form one continued line (3.) ; and so, through two points A,
F two straight lines AF and ACF may be drawn, that do
not coincide, which is impossible : Therefore it is equally
impossible that two perpendiculars can be drav/n from the
same point to the same straight line.

Scholium. Through the same point C, in a straight line
AB (Fig. 24.), it is impossible to draw two perpendiculars
to that line : For if CE and CD could be both perpendicu-
lar to AB ; then ECB and DCB would be both right angles^
and equal to ofie another (1.), which is absurd (Ax. 9.)

662

GEOMETRY.

Pnop. XVI. Theor.

If from a point A (Fig. 38.^ without a straight line DE, a
perpendicular AB be drawn to that line ; and different ob-
lique lines AE, AC, AU, ii.c. to different points of that line.

1st. The perpendicular AB is shorter than any obliciue
line.

2d. The two oblitiue lines, AC, AE on opposite sides
of the perpendicular, and at equal distances BC, BE, are
equal.

3d. Of any two oblique lines AC, AD, or AE, AD, that
■which is farther from the perpendicular is the greater of
the two.

Produce the perpendicular, so that BF ~ AB, and join
PC, FD.

1. The triangles BCF, BCA are equal (6.), for BF =
EA, and BC is common, and the angles at B are right
angles; therefore CF 3: C A. Now AF is less than AC
-fCF, (8.) therefore, taking tlie halves, AB is less than
AC ; that is, the perpendicular is the shortest line that can
be drawn from A to DE.

2. Next suppose BE ::= BC ; then the triangles ABE,
ABC will be equal (6.) ; for they have also BA common,
and the angles ABE, ABC equal, therefore AEiz: AC j
that is, two oblique lines equally distant from the perpen-
dicular on opposite sides arc equal.

0. In the triangle ADF, the sum of AC and CF is less
than the the sum of AD and DF (9.); therefore AC the
half of AC-fCF, is less than AD, the half of AD + DF;
that is, the oblique line farther from the perpendicular is
greater.

CoH. 1. The perpendicular from a point on a line mea-
sures its distance from the line.

Con. 2. From the same point no more than two equal
straight lines can be drawn to terminate in that line.

Prop. XVII. Theor.

If through the point C, (Fig. 39.) the middle of the
straight line AB, a perpendicular be drawn to that line.

1st. Every point in the perpendicular is equally distant
from the extremities of the line AB.

2d. Every point out of the perpendicular, is unequally
distant from the extremities of the line.

1. Because AC — CB, the two oblique lines AD, DB,
■which are equally distant from the perpendicular, are
equal (16.) The same is also true of the two oblique lines
AE, EB, and of the two oblk:|ue lines AF, FB. &c. There-
fore every point in the perpendicular is equally distant from
the ends of the line.

2. Let I be a point out of .^e perpendicular. If lA, IB
be joined, one of them will cut tK« perpendicular in D ;
therefore, drawing DB, we have DB ^ DA. But IB is
less than ID + DB, and ID + DB zz ID -f. DA — lA,
therefore IB is less than lA ; that is, any point out of the
perpendicular is unequally distant from the extremities
A, B.

Prop. XVIII. Theor.

Two right angled triangles are equal, if the hypothe-
imse and a side of the one be equal to the hypothenuse and
a side of the other.

Let the hypothenuse AC=DF, (Fig. 40.) and the side
AB=DE; the right angled triangle ABC shall be equal
to the right angled triangle DEF.

The proposition will evidently be true,, if it can be pi'o
ved that BC = EF (11.) Let us su|)pose, if it be possible,
that these sides are unequal, and that BC is the gieatei-.
Take BG = EF, and join AG. The triangles ABO, DEF,
having AB = DE, and BG = EF (by hypothesis), and also
having the angle ABG equal to DEF, they will be equal
(6) ; therefore AG ~ DF, but DF = AC ; therefore ACJ =
Ac ; that is, two oblique lines, one more remote from the
perpendicular than the other, are equal, which is impossible
(16) ; therefore BC is not une(|ual to EF ; and hence the
triangle ABC is e(iual to the tiiangle DEF.

Prop. XIX. Theor,

If two straight lines AC, BD, (Fig. 41,) are perpendicu-
lar to a third AB, these two lines are parallel ; that is, al-
though produced ever so far both ways, they will not meet,
(Def. 11.)

For if they could meet in a point O, on either side ot
AB, then two perpendiculars OA, OB might be drawn
from the same point O, to the same straight line AB,
which is impossible, (15.)

Prop. XX. Theor.

If two straight lines AC, BD^ (Fig- 42,) make with a
third AB two interior angles CAB, ABD, the sum of
which is equal to two right angles, these two straight lines
are parallel.

From G, the hiiddle of AB, draw EOF perpendicular
to AC ; then, because the sum ABD + ABF is equal to
two right angles (2.), and by hypothesis the sum ABD-4-
BAC is equal to two right angles, therefore ABD-|- ABF
r= ABD-J-BAC; and taking away the common angle
ABD, there remains ABF = BAC; that is GBF =GAE.
Besides, the angles BGF, AGE are equal (4.), and BG =:
GA; wherefore the triangles BGF, AGE have a side and
two adjacent angles of the one equal to a side and two ad-
jacent angles of the other; they are therefore equal (7.),
and the angle BFG =: AEG ; but AEG is by construc-
tion a right angle ; therefore BFG is a right angle; and
since GEC is a right angle, the straight lines EC, FD are
perpendicular to EF, and are therefore parallel to one
another. (19.)

Cor. 1. If two straight lines AC, BD, (Fig 43.) make
with a third HK the alternate angles AHK, HKD equal,
the two lines are parallel. For then, adding KHC, we
have AHK-f KHC r:HKD + KHC ; but the former sum
is equal to two right angles (2.), therefore the latter is
equal to two right angles ; and consequently AC is paral-
lel to BD.

CoR. 2. If two straight lines AC, BD are cut by a third
FG, so as to make the exterior angle FHC equal to the in-
terior and opposite angle HKD on the same side; the two
lines are parallel: For since FHC=:AHK (4.), then we
have AHK = HKD ; that is, the alternate angles equal,
therefore AC is parallel to BD.

Prop. XXI. Theoe.

If a straight line EF (Fig. 44.) meet two parallel straight
lines AC, BD, the sum of the inward angles CEF, EFD
on the same side, will be equal to two right angles.

For if not, suppose EG to be drawn through E, so that
the sum of GEF and EFD may be two right angles ; then
EG will be parallel to BD (-0.) ; and thus through the

GEOMETRY,

66:

same puiiit E two straight lines EG, EC arc drawn, each
parallel to RD, which is impossible, (Ax. 11.); therefore
HO straiglit line that iloes not coincide willi AC is parallel
to BD, therefore the straight line AC is parallel to 15 D.

Cor. 1. If a straight line is perpendicular to one of two
parallel straight lines, it is also perpenditular to the other.

CoR. 2. (Fig. 43.) If a straight line HK meet two pa-
rallel straight lines AC, BD, the alternate angles AHK,
HKD shall be equal.

For the sum CHK-j-HKD is equal to two right angles ;
and the sum CHK+ AHK is also equal to two right an-
gles (2.) ; therefore the angle HKD must be equal to
AHK.

Cor. 2. (Fig. 43.) If a straight line FG cut two paral-
lel straight lines AC, BD, the exterior angle FHC is equal
to the interior and opposite angles HKD.

For since FHC = AHK (4.), and AHK=HKD ; there-
fore FHC= HKD.

Scholium. If a straight line EF (Fig. 44.) meet two
other straight lines EG, FD, and make the two interior an-
gles EFD, FEG on the same side less than two right
angles, the lines EG, FD meet, if produced, on the side of
EF, on which the angles are less than two right angles.
For if they do not meet on that side, they are either paral-
lel, or else they meet on the other side. Now they cannot
be parallel, for then the two interior angles would be equal
to two right angles, instead of being less. Again, to shew
that tliey cannot meet on the other side, suppose EA to be
parallel to DFB ; then, because the sum EFD-|-FEG is
(by hypothesis) less than two right angles, that is, less than
FEK + FEG (2.) ; and EFD = FEA (Cor. 2. of this
Prop.); therefore the sum FEA+FEG is less than FEK
+ FEG; and, taking FEG from both, FEA is less than
FEK; hence FB and EK must be on opposite sides of
EA, and therefore can never meet.

The truth of this proposition is assumed as an axiom in
♦he Elements of Euclid, and made the foundation of the
theory of parallel lines.

Prop. XXII. Theor.

Two straight lines AB, ■■CD, (Fig. 45.) parallel to a
third EF, are parallel to one another.

Draw the straight line PQR, perpendicular to EF. Be-
cause AB is parallel to EF, the line PR shall he perpendi-
cular to AB(1. Cor. 21.) And because CD is parallel to
EF, the line PR is also perpendicular to CD ; therefore
AB and CD are perpendicular to the same straight line
PQ ; hence they are parallel. (19.)

Prop. XXIII. • Theor.

Two parallel straight lines are every where equally dis-
tant. '

Let AB, CD, (Fig. 46.) be two parallel straight lines.
From any points li and F in one of them, suppose perpen-
diculars EG, FII to be drawn ; these, when produced, will
meet the others at right angles in H and G (1 Cor. 21.):
Join FG ; then, because FH and EG are both perpendicu-
lar to AB, they are parallel, (19.); therefore the alternate
angles HFG,FGE, which Ihcy make with FG, are equal,
(2. Cor. 21.): And because AB is parallel to CD. the al-
ternate angles GFE, FGH are also equal ; tiierefore the
triangles GEF, FHG have two angles of the op.e equal to
two angles of the other, each to each ; and the side FG
adjacent to the equal angles common ; the triangles are
therefore equal, (7.) ; and FH is equal to EG, that is, any

two points F, E, on one of the lines, are equally distant
from the other line.

Prop. XXIV. Theor.

In any triangle, if one of the sides be produced, the ex-
terior angle is equal to both the interior and opposite an-
gles ; and the three interior angles are equal to two right
angles.

Let ABC (Fig. 47.) be a triangle ; produce any one of
its sides, AC towards D, and from the point A, let AE be
drawn parallel to BC : And because of the parallels CB,
AE, the angle EAD = C, and the angle EAB = B, (Cor.
2. and 3. of Prop. 21.); therefore EAD + EAB = C -f B ;
that is, BAD = B-)-C : Hence the outward angle is equal
to the two inward and opposite angles.

Again, because BAD = B + C, to each add BAC, and
we have BAD-f BAG= B + C-fBAC, that is, equal to the
sum of the three angles of the triangle; but the sum BAD
+CAB is equal to two right angles (2.) ; therefore the sum
of the three angles of the triangle ABC is equal to two
right angles.

Cor. 1. If two angles of one triangle arc equal to two
angles of another triangle, each to each, the third angle
of the one shall be equal to the third angle of the other,
and the triangles shall be equiangular.

CoR. 2. A triangle can have only one right angle.

CoR. 3. In any right angled triangle, the sum of the two
acute angles is equal to a right angle.

CoR. 4. In an equilateral triangle, each of the angles is
one-third of two right angles, or two thirds of one right
angle.

Prop. XXV. Theor.

The sum of all the interior angles of a polygon is equal
to twice as many right angles, wanting four, as the polygon
has sides.

Let ABCDE, he. (Fig. 48.) be a polygon; if from the
vertex of any one of its angles A, diagonals AC, AD, AE,
&c. be drawn to the vertices of all the other angles, it is
evident that the polygon will be divided into five triangles
if it have seven sides ; and into six triangles if it have
eight sides; and, in general, the number of triangles will
be two less than the number of sides. It is also evident,
that the sum of all the angles of these triangles make up
all the angles of the polygon ; now, all the angles of each
triangle are together equal to two right angles ; therefore
all the angles of the triangles, that is, all the angles of the
polygon, will be equal to two right angles taken as often,
except two, as the figure has sides, and consequently all the
angles of the polygon will be equal to twice as many right
angles wanting four as the figure has sides.

Con. The sum of the angles of a quadrilateral will be
four right angles.

ScHoi.iUiM. The proposition will only apply to such po-
lygons as have their angles salient, that is, when the straight
line that joins any two adjacent angles falls within the poly-
gon. When some of the angles are re-entrant^ the propo-
sition must have a different form.

Prop. XXVI. Theor.

The opposite sides of a parallelogram are equal, as well
as the opposite angles.

Draw the diagonal BD (Fig. 49.) The triangles ADB,

664

GEOMETRY.

DBC have ihe common side DB ; also because of the pa-
rallels AB,CD, the angle ABD =CDB, (2 Cor. 21.) and
because of the parallels AD, BC, the angle AUB = DBC ;
therefore the triangles are equal, (7.) ; and the sides AB,
DC, which are opposite the equal angles, are equal. In
like manner AD and BC are equal ; therefore the opposite
sides of a parallelogram are equal.

Again, from the equality of the triangles, it follows that
the angle at A is equal to the angle at C ; and it has been
shewn, that the angles ADB, BBC are respectively etiual
to the angles CBD, DBA ; therefore the whole angle ADC
is equal to the whole angle ABC ; thus the opposite an-
gles are equal.

Coil. Two parallels AB,CD comprehended between two
other parallels AD, BC are equal.

Prop. XXVII. Theor.

If in a quadrilateral ABCD, (Fig. 49.) the opposite sides
are equal, so that AB = CD, and AD^BC ; the «ides are
parallel, and the figure is a parallelogram.

For, drawing the diagonal DB, the triangles ABD, BDC
have the three sides equal, each to each ; therefore the
angle ADB, opposite to the side AB, is equal to the angle
CBD, opposite to the side CD. (1 1.) ; hence the sid!',\D
is parallel to BC, (11. Cor. 20.) For a like reason AB is
parallel to CD; therefore the quadrilateral ABCD is a
parallelogram.

Prop. XXVIII. Theor.

If two opposite sides AB, CD (Fig. 49.) of a quadrila-
teral are equal and parallel ; the other two sides are equal
and parallel, and the figure ABCD is a parallelogram.

For, having drawn the diagonal BD, since AB is parallel
to CD, the angle ABD = BDC (2. cor. 21.) ; besides the
side AB^DC,and the side DB is common ; therefore the
triangle ABD is equal to the triangle DBC, (6 ) ; there-
fore the side AD = BC, the angle ADB = DBC ; and conse-
quently AD is parallel to BC ; therefore the figure ABCD
is aparailelograra.

SECT. II.

Of a Circle^

Definitions.

1. The Circumference of a circle is a curve line, every
point of which is equally distant from a certain point with-
in it called the centre. The circle is the space bounded by
that curve line.

JVote. Sometimes the circumference of a circle is call-
ed tkc circle ; but it is easy to avoid ambiguity, by re-
collecting that the circumference isaftrie, and the circle a
sfiace.

2. Every straight line, CA, CE, CD, (Fig 50.) kc. drawn
from the centre to the circumference, is called ?ircdiuso\-
semidiameter ; and every straight line, as AB, which passes
through tlie centre, and is determined both ways by the cir-
cumference, is called a diameter.

CoR. All the radii are equal; also the diameters are all
equal, and each is double of the radius.

3. An arc of a circle is any portion of the circumference,
as FHG.

The cliord or subtense of an arc is the straight line EG
■wliich joins its extremities.

4. A segment is the space comprehended between au
arc and its chord.

J^Tote. The same chord EG corresponds to two arcs
FHG, FKG, also to two segments; but it is always the
least of the two that is meant, unless otherwise expressed.

5. A sector is a part of a circle comprehended by an
arc DE, and the two radii CD, CE drawn to its extre-
mities.

6. A straight line is said to be }daced in a circle, when
its extremities are in the circumference, as FG.

7. An angle is said to lie in a segment of a circle, when
its vertex is on the arc of the segment, and the lines which
contain it terminate in the extremities of the chord.

8. A rectilineal figure is said to be inscribed in a circle,
when all its angles are on the circumference of the circle.
The circle is tlien said to be described dbonl the figure.

9. A straight line is said to touch a circle, and is called
a tangent, when it meets the circumference, and being
produced does not cut it ; as the line IKL. The point K in
which the straight line meets the circle is called the fioint
of contact.

10. Two circumferences of circles are said to touch
each other, when they meet in one point only.

11. A rectilineal figure is said to circumscriie a circle,
when all its sides are tangents to the circumference; the
circle is then said to be inscribed in the figure. .

Prop. I. Theor.

Any diameter AB (Fig. 51.) of a circle, divides the cir-
cumference into two equal parts.

For if the figure AEB be applied upon AFB, so that they
may coincide in their common base AB ; it is manifest that
they must entirely coincide ; for were it otherwise, some
parts of the circumference would be farther from the cen-
tre than others, contrary to the definition of a circle. (Def.
1. Sect. 2.)

Prop. II. Theor.

Every chord is shorter than the diameter.

For if the radii AC, CD (Fig. 5 1 .) be drawn to the extre-
mities of the chord AD, then AD will be less than AC-f-CD

(8. I.) that is less than the diameter.

Prop. III. Theor.

A straight line cannot cut a circle in more than two
points.

For if it could cut it in three, these would be all equally
distant from the centre ; and so three equal straight lines
might be drawn from the same point to terminate in the
same straight line, which is impossible, (16. 1.)

Prop. IV. Theor.

In the same circle, or in equal circles, equal arcs are
subtended by equal chords ; and conversely, equal chords
subtend equal arcs.

If the radii AC, EO (Fig. 52 ) are equal, and the arc
AMD is equal to the arc ENG ; the chord AD shall be
equal to the chord EG. For the semicircle AMDB may
evidently be applied exactly upon the semicircle ENGF ;
and then the curve line AMDB will coincide entirely with

GEOMETRY.

665

the curve ENGF ; but we suppose the arc AMD = arc
ENG ; therefore the point D will fall on G, and the chord
AD on the chord EG.

Conversely, if tiie chord AD be equal to the chord EG,
then the arc AMD = arc ENG. I"or, drawing the radii
CD,OG; the triangles ACD, EOG have A(:i=EO, CD
=OG, AD = EG ; therefore they are equal, (11. 1.) ; and
the angle ACD = EOG ; consequently, if the semicircle
ADB be placed on the equal semicircle EGF ; so that AC
may coincide with EO ; the point D will manifestly fall on
G, and the arc AMD will be equal to ENG.

Prop. V. Tiieor.

In the same, or in equal circles, a greater arc is sub-
tended by a greater chord, and conversely; provided that
the arcs are each less than a semicircumference.

Let the arc AH (Fig. 52.) be greater than the arc AD,
and let the chords AD, AH, and the radii CD, CH be
drawn. The two sides AC, CH of the triangle ACH are
equal to the two sides AC, CD of the triangle ACD ; and
the angle ACH is greater than the angle ACD ; therefore
AH-:^AD(10. 1.) Thus it appears, that the chord that
subtends the greater arc is the greater.

Conversely, if the chord AH is supposed greater than
AD, it may be inferred fiom the same triangles, that the
angle ACH is greater than the angle ACD, and therefore
that the arc AH is greater than AD.

Scholium. If the arcs, instead of being less, were great-
er than a semicircumference, the opposite property would
hold true ; that is, the greater the arc, the smaller the
chord.

Prop, VI. Theor.

The radius CG, (Fig. 53.) which is perpendicular to a
cliord AB, bisects the chord, and the arc it subtends ; that
is, divides each into two equal parts.

Draw the radii CA, CB ; these, with respect to the per-
pendicular CD, are two equal oblique lines; therefore they
meet AB at equal distances from the perpendicular (16.
}.); that is, AD = DB.

Next, if AD = DB ; then, because CG is a perpendicu-
lar to AB, every point in CG is equally distant from A and
B (17.1.) ; tlierefore, if AG and I5G be drawn, the chord
AG =■ chord BG ; hence the arc AG = arc BG (4.)

Scholium. From this proposition, it appears that the
centre C, the middle D of the chord, and the middle G of
the arc, are three points situated in a straight line perpen-
dicular to the chord. Now, two points are sufficient to
fix the position of a straight line. Therefore, any straight
line which passes through two of these points will neces-
sarily pass through the third, and be perpendicular to the
chord.

Hence it also follows, t/ial the fier/iendicular to the mid-
dle of a chord fiasses through the centre and the middle of
the arc subtended by the chord.

Prop. VII. Theor.

Onecircle, and only one, can be described through three
given points A, B, C, (Fig. 54.) which are not in a straight
Sne.

Join AB, BC, and divide these lines each into two equal
parts by the perpendiculars DE, FG. Now, if ABC, or
Vol.. IX. Part II.

DBF, be a right angle ; then, if the points D, F be joined,
DBF will be a right angled triangle, and therefore each
of the angles BFD, BDF will be less than a right angle
(2. Cor. 24. I.) ; and consequently, each of the angles FDE,
DFG will be less then a right angle, and their sum will be
less than two right angles : hence DE, FG will meet, if
produced in a point O (Schol. 21. 1.) But if DBF is not a
right angle, the two lines GI', AB will make with BF two
angles on one side, which will be less than two right an-
gles ; therefore those lines will meet in a point K ; and as
BFK is a right angle, BKF will be less than a right angle
(2. Cor. 24. 1.) ; therefore EDK and GKD will be toge-
ther less than two right angles, and consequently will meet
at a point O, as in the other case. Now tliis point O, con-
sidered as in the perpendicular DE, will be ecjually distant
from A and B (17. 1.) ; and considered as in the perpen-
dicular FG, it will be equUy distant from C and B : there-
fore it will be equally distant from A, B, and C, and these
three points will be in the circumference of a circle, of
which O is the centre.

Again, every circle that passes through A and B must
have its centre in DE ; and every circle that passes through
C and B must have its centre in FG (Schol. 6.) ; but these
two lines can only have one common ixiint ; therefore only
one circle can pass through the points A, B, C.

Cor. Two circles cannot cut each other in more than
two points ; for, if they could have three common pointg,
they would have the same centre, and would coincide.

Prop. VIII. Theor.

Two equal chords are equally distant from the centre ;
and of two unequal chords, the shortest is farthest from the
centre.

1. Let the chord AB^DE ; (Fig. 55.) suppose them di-
vided into two equal parts by the perpendicular CF, CG
from the centre ; and draw the radii CA, CD. The right
angled tiianglesCAF, CDG have equal hvpothenuses CA,
CD ; also AF, the half of AB, equal to DG, the half of DE;
therefore the triangles are equal (18. 1 .), and CF~CG ;
therefore AB, DE are equally distant from the centre.

2. Next let the chord AH be greater than the chord DE,
so that the arc AKH is greater than the arc DME. In
AKH take AKB equal to DME ; draw the chord AB, and
CF a perpendicular from the centre upon AB, meeting AH
in O ; and CI a perpendicular upon AH. It is evident that
CF is greater than CO, and CO greater than CI (16. 1.) ;
much more then is CF':::=-C I: But CF = CG, since the
chords AB, DE are equal ; therefore CG':p='CI; therefore
of two unequal chords, the smaller is the farthest of the
two from the centre.

Prop. IX. Theor.

A straight line BD, (Fig. 56 ) drawn perpendicular to
the extremity of a radius CA, is a tangent to the circum-
ference.

For every oblique line CE is longer than the perpendicu-
lar CA (16. 1.) ; therefore the point E must be without the
circle ; and as this holds true of every point in the line
BD, except the point A, the line BD is a tangent (9. Def.)

Scholium. Only one tangent AD can be drawn from a
point A in the circumference. For if it were possible to
draw another tangent, as AG, then as C A would not be per-
pendicular to AG, another line CF would be perpendicular
to AG ; and so, CF would be less than CA (16. 1.) ; there-
4P

666

GEOMETRY.

fore F would fall wltliin the ciiclc, and AF, if pvcduced,
uould cut the cii'cuinfercnce.

Pnop. X. TuEon.

Two parallel chords AB, DE, (Fig. 57.) in a circle inter-
cept equal arcs AD, Bli.

Draw the radius CII perpendicular to AB ; it will also
be perpendicular to DE (1. Cor. 21. 1.) Therefore H will
be at the same lime the middle of the arcs AHB and DHE :
Hence we have DII=aHE and AH=HB ; and therefore
DA=BE.

Prop. XI. Tiieor.

If two circumferences cut each other, the straight line
which passes through their centres shall be perpendicular
to the chord which joins the points of intersection, and shall
divide it into two eijual parts.

For the line AB, (Figs. 58, 59.) which joins the point of
intersection, beine^ a common chord of the two circles; if,
through the middle of this chord, a perpendicular be drawn,
it will pass through C and D, the centres of both the cir-
cles. But only one line can be drawn through two given
points ; therefore the straight line whicli passes through
the centres is a perpendicular at the middle of the common
chord.

Prop. XII. Theou.

If the distance of the centres be less than the sum of
their radii ; and if, at the same time, the greater radius is
less than the sum of the lesser and the distance of the cen-
tres, the two circles will cut each other.

For that the circles may intersect each other, the tri-
angle CAD (Figs. 58, 59.) must be possible : therefore, it
is necessary not only that CD be less than AC + AD, but
also that the greater radius AD be less than AC + CD
(8. 1.) Now it is evident, that when the triangle CAD can
be constructed, the circles described on C and D as cen-
tres will intersect on A and B.

Cor. Therefore, if two circles touch each other, either
externally or internally, their centres and the point of con-
tact arc in the same straight line.

Prop. XV. Theor.

In the same circle, or in equal circles, equal angles ACB,
DCE (Fig. 62.) at the centre, intercept equal arcs AB,
DE on the circumference ; and conversely, if the arcs AB,
DE be equal, the angles ACB, DCE are also equal.

1. If the angle ACB=DCE, these two angles may be
placed on each other, and as their sides are equal, the point
A will fall on D, and the point B on E ; but then the arc
AB must also fall on the arc DE ; for if the two arcs did
not coincide, there would be in the one or the other points
unequally distant from the centre, which is impossible :
therefore the arc ABriDE.

2. Next, if the arc ABziDE, the angle ACB shall be
equal to DCE ; for if they are not equal, let ACB be the
greater. Take ACIztDCE, then by what has been de-
monstrated AIziDE ; but by hypothesis, the arc ABizDE ;
therefore the arc AlizAB, which is impossible; where-
fore the angle ACB~DCE.

Prop. XVI. Theor.

An angle ACB (Figs. 63, 64.) at the centre of a circle, is
double of the angle ADB at the circumference, upon the
same arc AB.

Draw DC (Fig. 63.) producing it to E. First, let the
angle at the centre be within the angle at the circumference,
(Fig. 63.) then the angle ACE=:CAD + CDA, (24. 1);
but because CA=:CD, the angle CADrzCDA, (12. 1,)
therefore the angle ACEi::2 CDA. For the same reason,
the angle BCE— 2 CDB : Therefore, the whole angle ACB
is double the whole angle ADB.

Next, let the angle at the centre be without the angle at
the circumference, (Fig. 64.) It may be demonstrated, as
in the first case, that the angle ECBzz2 EDB ; and that
the angle EGA a part of the first, is equal to 2 EDA a part
of the second ; therefore the remainder ACB is double the
remainder ADB.

Prop. XIII. Theor.

Prop. XVII. Theor.

If the -distance CD (Fig. 60.) of the centres of two circles
be equal to tlie sum ot their radii CA, AD, the two circles
touch each other externally.

It is evident that they will have a common point A, but
they cannot have another common point ; for if they had
two common points, (as in Fig. 58.) it would be necessary
that the distance of their centres should be less than the
sum of their radii.

Prop. XIV. Theor.

«
If the distance of the centres be equal to the difference
of the radii CA, AD, (Fig. 61.) the two circles will touch
each other internally.

In the first place, it is evident that they have a common
point A, and they cannot have another; for, that this might
be possible, it would be necessary that the greater radius
AD should be less than the sum of the lesser and the dis-
laiice of the centres C, D, which is inconsistent with llie
i^ypothesis.

The angles ADB, AEB, (Figs. 65, 66.) in the same seg-
ment AEB of a circle, are equal to one another.

Let C be the centre of the circle, and first let the seg-
ment AEB be greater than a semicircle, (Fig. 65.) Draw
C.\, CB to the ends of tlie base of the segment, then each
of the angles ADB, AEB will be half of the angle ACB,
(16 ) ; therefore the angles ADB, AEB are equal.

Next, let the segment AEB (Fig. 66.) be less than a
semicircle; draw the diameter DCF, and join EF ; and be-
cause the segment ADEF is greater than a semicircle by
tliC first case, the angle ADF^iAEF. In liiic manner, be-
cause the segment BEDF is greater than a semicircle, the
angle BDF is equal to the angle BEF ; tlicrefore the whole
angle ADB is equal to the whole angle AEB.

Puop. XVIir. TiiEon.

The opposite angles of any quadrilateral ABCD (Fig.
67.) inscribed in a circle, are together ccjual to two right
angles.

GEOMETRY.

66:

Draw the diagonals AC, BD. In the segment ABCD,
the angle ABDnACD ; and in the segment CBAD, the
angle CBDzzCAD, (17.) ; therefore the whole an}<le ABC
is equal to the sum ACD + CAD ; and adding ADC, we
get the sum ABC+ADC equal to the sum ACD + CAD +
ADC ; now these three angles are the angles of the trian-
gle ADC, and therefore equal to two right angles, (24. 1.) :
Therefore the sum of the angles ABC, ADC is equal to
two right angles. In like manner it may be demonstrated,
that the sum of the angles BAD, BCD is eciual to two
right angles.

Prop. XIX. Theor.

An angle ABD, (Fig. 68.) in a semicircle is a right an-
gle; an angle BAD in a segment greater than a semicir-
cle, is less than a right angle ; and an angle BED in a seg-
ment less than a semicircle, is greater than a right angle.

Produce AB to F, and draw BC to the centre; and be-
cause CAnCB, the angle CBA^CAB, (12. 1.) in like
manner, because CD^CB, the angle CBDizCDB, there-
fore the sum CBA+CBD=:CAB-f CDB ; that is, ABDzz
C AB+CDB ; but this last sum is equal to the angle DBF,
(24. 1.) therefore the angle ABD:^DBF. Hence each is
a right angle, (9. def. 1.); therefore the angle ABD in a
semicircle is a right angle.

And because in the triangle ABD the angle ABD is a
right angle; therefore BAD, which is manifestly in a seg-
ment less than a semicircle, is less than a right angle, (2.
Cor. 24. 1 ). Again, because ABED is a quadrilateral in a
circle, we have A + E;z two right angles, (18.) ; but A is
less than a right angle ; therefore E, which is in a segment
greater than a semicircle, is greater than a right angle.

Prop. XX. Theor.

The angle BAE, (Fig. 69.) contained by a tangent AE to a
circle, and a chord AB drawn from the point of contact, is
equal to the angle AGB in the alternate segment.

Let the diameter ACF be drawn, and GF be joined ; and
because EGA and FAE are right angles, (19. and 9.), and
of these, FGB a part of the one, is equal FAB a part of the
other, (17.). The remainders BAE, BGA are equal.

Problems relating to the tivo First Sections.

Geometrical problems, like geometrical theorems, may
be multiplied without end. They are divided into classes,
according to tlie nature ol the lines employed in their solu-
tion. Tiie most simple, called Plane Problems, require
only straight lines and circles, and they may be all ulti-
mately reduced to three.

1. To draw a straight line from one given point to an-
other given point.

2. To prolong a straight line.

3. To describe a circle on any point as a centre, with any
given radius.

These are resolved by the mechanical contrivances of a
ruler and compasses, which are commonly known ; and
they belong rather to mechanics than to geometry, which
does not teach how to resolve them, but takes for granted
that the manner of solving them is known. This assump-
tion is formally made in the postulates-, (beginning of
Sect. 1.)

The elements of geometry treat only of the more simple
plane problems, to which the complex may be reduced.
Some of these are now to be considered.

Problem. I.

From the greater CD] (Fig. 70.) of two unequal lines
AB, CD, to cut ofTa part equal to the less.

From C as a centre, with a radius equal to AB, let the
circumference of a circle be described cutting CD in E,
(3d Postulate), and the thing is done.

Prob. II.

At a given point A to draw a line equal to a given line
CD. (Fig. 71.)

Draw the indefinite line AF (Post. 1. and 2.) ; from
which cut off AB— CD, (Prob. 1.)

Prob. III.

To bisect a given straight line AB, (Fig. 72.) that is, to
divide it into two equal parts.

On A and B as centres, with any radius greater than the
half of AB, describe two arcs of circles to meet in D,(Post.
3. and Prop. 12.), this point will be equally distant from A
and B. In like manner, find another point E, cither on the
same or on the other side of the line, which may be equal-
ly distant from A and B. Through D and E draw a straight
line to meet AB in C ; the point C will be the middle of
AB.

For the points D and E are in a straight line, perpendicu-
lar to the middle of AB (17. 1.); therefore the line DCE
is that perpendicular, and C is the middle of the line.

Prob. IV.

To draw a perpendicular to a given line BC, (Fig. 73.)
from a given point A in that line.

Take the points B and C at equal distances from A ;
and on B and C as centres, with a radius greater than BA,
describe arcs to meet in D. Draw AD, which will be the
perpendicular required.

For D being equally distant from B and C, it must be
in a line perpendicular to the middle of BC. Therefore
AD is the perpendicular required.

Prob. V.

To draw a perpendicular to a given line BD (Fig. 74.)
from a given point A without that line.

On A as a centre, with a sufficiently great radius, de-
scribe an arc to cut the line in B and D. Find next a point
E equally distant from A and B ; join AE, meeting BD in
C, and Ac will be the perpendicular required.

For the two points A, E are each equally distant from
B and D ; therefore AE is perpendicular to BD.

Prob. VI.

At a given point A (Fig. 75.) in a given line AB to
make an angle equal to a given angle K.

On K as a centre, with any radius, describe an arc IL,
to terminate in the sides of the angle. On A as a centre,
with the same radius, describe an indefinite arc BO. On
B as a centre, with a radius equal to the chord of the arc
LI, describe an arc to cut the arc BO in D ; draw AD,
and the angle DAB shall be equal to the given angle K.
4 P2

668

GEOMETRY.

For IL, BD are equal cliovds in equal circles, there- Cor. If the givcfl angle were a right angle, the figure
fori' the arc IL= arc UD (4.), and the angle K = angle A, womd be a recuu.gle ; and il the sides weie equal, the
(\c\ figure would be a square.

Proh. VII.

Pnon. XI.

To divide a given angle, or an arc, into two equal parts. To find the centre of a circle, or of a given arc.

1. If it is an arc AB (Fig. 76.) whose centre is C, which
is to be divided on A and B as centres, witli the same ra-
dius describe arcs to meet in 1) ; through C and D draw a
straight line CD, which will bisect the arc AB at the
point E.

For C and D are each at tiie same distance from the ex-
tremities of the chord AB ; therefore CD is perpendicu-
lar at the middle of the chord (17. 1.), and consequently
inust bisect the arc AEB, (Schol. 6 )

2. If the angle ACB is to be bisected ; in the first place,
an arc AEB is to be described on C the vertex of the an-
gle as a centre ; then a point D must be found equally dis-
tant from A and B as before, and a line drawn from C
through D will bisect the angle.

For if the chord AB be drawn, CD will be perpendicu-
lar at the middle of AB ; therefore CD bisects the arc AB
(6.), and consequently bisects the angle ACB, (15.)

PUOB. VIII.

Through a given point A (Fig. 77.) to draw a straight
line parallel to a given line BC.

On A as a centre, with a radius sufficiently great, de-
scribe an indefinite arc EO ; on E as a centre, with the
same radius, describe an arc AF ; also on E as a centre,
with the chord of the arc AF as a radius, describe an arc
to meet EO in D; draw a line from A through D, and
AD will be the parallel required.

For AF and DE are manifestly equal arcs of equal cir-
cles; therefore the angles BEA, DAE are equal; and
hence BC is parallel to' AD, (Cor. 1. 20. 1.)

PllOB. IX.

To describe a triangle, the sides of which shall be equal
to three given straight lines. A, B, C. (Fig 78.)

Draw a straight line DE equal to one of the lines A ;
on E as a centre, with a radius equal to another of the
lines B, describe an arc; on D as a centre, witli a radius
equal to the remaining line C, describe another arc, cut-
ting the former in F ; draw DF, EF ; and DEF shall be
the triangle required, as is sufficiently evident.

Scholium. The problem is only possible when tlie sum
of any two of the given lines is greater than the third,
(8. 1.)

Prob. X.

To construct a parallelogram, the adjacent sides of
which may be equal to two given lines A, B. (Fig. 79.)
and the angle which they contain equal to a given angle C.

Draw a straight line DE=:A ; at the point D, make an
angle FDE~C, and take DF~B ; describe two arcs, one
on F as a centre, with DE or A as a radius, and the other
on E as a centre, with B as a radius. From the point G,
■where these arcs cut each other, draw GF, GE, and DEGF
■will be the parallelogram required.

For by the construction, the opposite sides are equal ;
therefore the figure is a parallelogram, (27. 1.)

Take any three points A, B, C (Fig. 80.) in the circum-
ference of the circle, or in the arc; join them by the lines
AB, BC, (or suppose these lines drawn), and bisect AB, BC
by tiie perpendiculars DE, F(j (Prob. 3.); the point O
where these lines meet each other shall be the centre
sought, us is evident from Prop. 7.

Scholium. By this construction, a circle may be de-
scribed through three given points ; or may be described
about a given triangle ABC.

Prob. XII.

Through a given point A, (Fig. 81, 83.) to draw a tan-
gent to a given circle.

If the given point A is in the circumference (Fig. 81.),
draw the radius CA, and draw AD perpendicular to CA ;
and DA shall be the tangent required, (9. 2.)

If the point A is witiiout the circle, (Fig. 82.), draw AC
to the centre, bisect AC in O ; and on O as a centre, with
OC as a radius, describe a circle which may cut the given
circle in B ; draw AB, and AB shall be the tangent re-
quired.

For join CB, and the angle ABC in a semicircle will
be a right angle (19.) ; therefore AB, a perpendicular to
the radius at its extremity B, is a tangent to the circle, (9.)

Scholium. When the point A is without the circle,
there may be two equal tangents AB, AD drawn, whicli
shall pass through the point A. For the right angled tri-
angles ABC, ADC have a common hypothenuse AC, and
a side BC equal a side CD ; therefore AB=AD, (18. 1.)

PnoB. XIII.

To inscribe a circle in a given triangle ABC (Fig. 83.)

Bisect the angles A and B, (Prob. 7.) by the straight
lines AO, BO, which will meet at a point O, because the
angles CBA and BAC are less than two right angles; and
therefore OAB and OBA are also less than two right an-
gles, (Schol. 21. I.) Draw OD, OE, OF, perpendicu-
lar to the sides of the triangle : And because the triangles
OAD, OAF have the angle OAD = OAF, and the angle
OD.\r:OFA; the remaining angle AOD shall be equal
to the remaining angle AOF, (1 Cor. 24. 1.) Besides, the
,^side AO, adjacent to the equal angles, is common to both;
therefore the triangles are equal, (7 1.) andOD=OF : In
like manner it may be demonstrated, tliat tlic triangles
BOD and BOE are equal, and therefore ODizOE; there-
fore the three lines OD, OE, OF are equal ; and a circle
described on O as a centre, with any one of tliem as a ra-
dius, will pass through the extremities of the other two;
and because the angles at D, E, F are right angles, the
circle will touch the sides of the triangle (9.), and be in-
scribed in it.

Prob. XIV.

Upon a given straight line AB (Fig. 84.) to describe a
segment of a circle that may contain an angle equal to a
given angle C.

GEOMETRY.

669

Produce Ali towards D, and at the point B make the
angle DBE;i:C; draw ISO perpendicular to HE, and (iO
a perpendicular upon the middle of AB. On llie point of
concourse O as a centre, wiili the radius OB, describe a
circle which will evidently pass through A ; the segment
required shall be AMB. For since BE is perpendicular
to the extremity of the radius OB, BE is a tangent ; there-
fore the angle EBD, which is equal to C by construction,
is equal to any angle AMB in the alternate segment.

Scholium. If the given angle were a right angle, the
segment sought would be a semicircle described on the
diameter AB.

SECT. III.

Of Proportion.

The theory of proportion treats of the ratios of quan-
tities ; that is, the relations they have to each other in re-
speci of magnitude. As it applies alike to quantities of
every kind, we have explained it in our article Algebra,
Sect. III. ; and some foreign writers on geometry, parti-
cularly Legendre, even regard this subject as altogether
an arithmetical or algebraical theory. In this country it
has been usual to introduce it iijto geometry, just before
its application is wanted ; although perhaps it might with
propriety be inserted, rather as a preliminary theory, than
as forming a part of geometry. However, in compliance
with custom, we shall treat it, (but somewhat differently,)
also in this place.

Definitions.

1. When one quantity contains another, a certain num-
ber of times exactly, the former is called a muttifite of the
latter; and the latter is said to be a part of the former.

2. When several magnitudes are multiples of as many
others, and each contains its part the same number of
times, the former are called equimultifiles of the latter,
and the latter like parts of the former.

3. If thc>re be four quantities, which we shall call A,
B, C, and D, and if A contain some part of B, exactly as
often as C contains a like part of D, then A is said to have
to B the same ratio that C has to D ; or the ratio of A to
B is said to be equal to the ratio of C to D.

Cor Hence if A contain B exactly as often as C con-
tains D, then the ratio of A to B is equal to the ratio of
C toD.

JVote. Each pair of quantities is supposed to be of tlie
same kind as both lines or both surfaces, S<;c. but A and B
may be of one kind, and C and D of any other kind.

4. Each set of quantities compared, as A and B, is call-
ed the terms of the ratio; the first is called the antece-
dent, and the second the consequent.

5. The terms of two equal i-atios are called profiortionals.

To indicate that the ratio c/ A to B is equal to the ra-
tio of C to D, they are usually w itten thus ; A : B : :
C : D; and sometimes thus, A : B— C : D; also thus,

A C

— = — ; each expression is read thus ; A is to '^ as Q, to

B U

D, and is called a proportion.

6. Of four proportional quantities, the last term is call-
ed di fourth proportional to the other three taken in order.

7. When there is any number of quantities greater than
two, of which the first has to the second the same ratio
which the second has to the third, and the second to the
third the same ratio which the third has to the fourth, and
so on, the magnitudes are said to be continual /iroporlionals.

8. When three quantities are continual proportionals,
the second is said to be a mean proportional between the

other two; and the last a t/iird proportional to the first and
second.

9. In proportionals, the antecedent terms arc called
homolot^ous to one another, and also the consequents to one
another.

10. When there is any number of quantities of the
same kind, the first is said to have to the last of them the
ratio compounded of the ratio which the first has to the
second, and of the ratio which the second has to the third,
and so on unto the last rnagnitude. For example, if there
be four quantities A, B, C, D, the first A is said to have
to the last D the ratio compounded of the ratio of A to B,
and of the ratio of B to C, and of the ratio of C to D.

And if A : B : : E : F, and B : C : : G : II ; and C : D : :
K : L; then, since the ratio of A to D is compounded of
the ratios of A to B, B to C, C to D ; A may also be said
to have to D the ratio compounded of the ratios, which
are the same with the ratios of E to F, G to H, and K to L.

1 1 . A ratio which is coinpounded of two equal ratios, is
said to be duplicate of either of these ratios.

Cor. Hence, if three magnitudes A, B, and C are con-
tinual proportionals, the ratio of A to C is duplicate of that
of A to B. For the ratio of A to C is compounded of the
ratios of A to B, and of B to C ; but by Def. 7. the ratio
of A to B is equal to the ratio of-B to C ; therefore, by
this definition, the ratio of A to C is duplicate of the ratio
of A to B, or of B to C

12. A ratio which is compounded of three equal ratios,
is said to be trifilicate of any one of them. By a like mode
of proceeding, a ratio quadruplicate of another is formed,
and so on.

CoR. If four magnitudes A, B, C, D be continual pro-
portionals, the ratio of A to D is triplicate of the ratio of
A to B, or of B to C, or of C to D.

13. Ratio of equality is that which equal magnitudes
bear to each other.

Geometers make use of the following technical words
to signify certain ways of changing either the order or
magnitude of proportionals, so that they still continue to
be proportional.

14. If four quantities be proportionals, they are said to
be proportionals by inversion, when it is inferred that the
second is to the first as the fourth to the third. (See Prop. 2.)

15. They are said to be proportionals by alternation,
when it is inferred that the first is to the third as the se-
cond to the fourth (Prop. 3.)

16. They are proportionals by comp.osition, when the sum
of the first and second is to the second as the sum of the
third and fourth is to the fourth. (Prop. 4.)

17. And by division, when the difierence of the first and
second is to the second as the difference of the third and
fouith is to the fourth. (Prop. 5.)

18. They are proportionals by conversion, when the first
is to the difference of the first and second, as the third to
the difference of the third and fourth. (Prop. 6.)

In this section, the letters A, B, C, kc. are used to de-
note quantities of any kind; the letters m, n, p, q. Sec. are
I'.sed to denote numbers only.

In addition to the characters which denote addition and
subtraction, we shall now also employ those which ex-
press multiplication and division ; they are explained in
Algebr.\, Art. 27, 28, and 29.

Axioms.

1 . Equal quantities have the same ratio to the same
quantity; and tlie same quantity has the same ratio to
each of any number of equal quantities.

670

GEOMETRY.

2. QuanlUlcs having the same ratio to the same rjuan-
tlty, or to eciual ciuaniities, are equal among themselves ;
and these quantiiics, to which the same quantity has the
same ratio, are equal.

3. Ratios equal to one and the same ratio, are also equal
one to the other.

4. If two quantities be composed of parts that are equal
among themselves, then will the whole of the one have
the same ratio to the whole of the other, as the number of
parts in the one has to the number of equal parts in the
other.

Prop. I. Theou.

Quantities have to one another the same ratio which
their equimultiples have.

Let A and B be two quantities, and supposing m to de-
note any number, let m A and m B, (that is m times A, and
7M times B,) be any equimultiples of these quantities; the
ratio of A to B shall be equal to the ratio of m A to in B,
or A : B : : ?n A : m B.

For let us suppose that A contains three such parts,
each equal to X, as B contains four, so that

A = X+X + X; B=:X + X + X-fX;

Then mA ~ mX + mX + mX ;

7/jB ^ 7«X + otX + 7«X + mX ;
because a whole quantity taken any number of times, is
manifestly equivalent to the aggregate of each of its parts
taken the same number of times : Now as A contains one-
fourth of B three times, and ?nA evidently contains one-
fourth of ?reB also three times, A contains a part of B ex-
actly as often as viA contains a like part of jhB ; therefore
(Def. 3.") the ratio of A to B is equal to the ratio of mA
to nB.

If, instead of supposing A to contain three such parts as
B contains four, we had taken general symbols, and sup-
pose A to contain /;, such equal parts as B contained g, the
reasoning and result would have been exactly the same. A
like remark is to be made on the subsequent propositions.

Cor. Like parts of quantities have to eacli other the
same ratio as the wholes ; for A and B are like parts of
mA and mB.

Prop. II. Theor.

If four quantities be proportionals, they shall also be
proportionals by inversion.

Let A, B, C, D be four quantities, such that A:B::
C : D ; then also B : A : : D : C.

For suppose that A contains two such equal parts as B
contains three, and consequently, (Def. 3.) that C contains
two such equal parts as D contains three ; tlien B will
contain three such parts as A contains two, and D will
contain three such parts as C contains two; so that B will
contain a part of A, exactly as often as D contains a like
part of C, therefore (Def. 3.) B : A : : D : C.

Prop. III. Theor,

If four quantities of the same kind be proportionals,
they shall also be proportionals by alternation.

Let A : B : : C : D ; then, alternately, A : C : : B : D.

For let us suppose that A contains three such equal
parts as B contains four, then, (Def. 3.) C will also contain
three such equal parts as D contains four; let each of the

equal parts contained in A and B be X, and let each of the
equal parts contained in C and D be Y ; then

A=3X B=4X

C = 3 Y D = 4Y

Because X is contained three times in A, and Y is contain-
ed three limes in C ; A and C are equimultiples of X and
Y, (Def. 2 ) : and in like manner it appears that B and D
are equimultiples of X and Y ; therefore (Prop. 1.) A : C : :
X : Y ; also, B : D : : X : Y ; and since the ratios of A to C,
and of B to D, are each equal to the ratio of X to Y, it
follows, (Ax. 3.) that A : C : : B : D.

Cor. If the first of four proportionals be greater than
the third, the second is greater than the fourth ; and if the
first lie equal to the third, the second is equal to the fourth ;
and if the first be less than the third, the second is less
than the fourth.

Prop. IV. Theor.

If four quantities be proportionals, they shall also be
proportionals by composition.

Let A : B : : C : D ; then by composition A : A -f B : :
C:C-fD.

For let us suppose that A contains five such equal parts
as B contains three, then also (Def. 3.) C will contain five
such equal parts as D contains three. Let each of the
parts in A and B be X, and let each of the parts in C and
D be Y; then because

A=5X; B=3X; C=5Y; D=3Y.
It follows that

A + B = 8X C-fD = 8Y.

Here it is evident that A-fB contains one third of B eight
times; and that C + D contains one third of D also eight
times; and in general, that A+B will contain some part
of B exactly as often as C-j-D contains a like part of D;
therefore (by Def. 3) A+B :B : : C+D :D.

Prob. V. Theor.

If four quantities be proportionals, they will also be pro-
portionals by division.

Let A : B : : C : D ; then by division. A— B : B : : C— D :D.

For making the same supposition as in last proposition,
so that

A = 5X, B=3X, C = 5Y, D=3Y; we have A—
B =2 X, and C^D = 2 Y, therefore A — B contains one-
third of B twice, and C — D contains one-third of D also
twice : and in general, it is evident that A — B will in every
case contain a part of B exactlv as often as C — D contains
a like part of D : therefore (Def. 3.) A — B:B ::C— D :D.

Prop. VI. Theor.

If four quantities be proportionals, they are also propor-
tionals by conversion.

Let A : B : : C : D ; then, by conversion, A : A — B : : C :
C — D.

For, making the same supposition as in the two last pro-
positions, because

A = 5X. B=3X,C=5Y, D=3 Y;
therefore A— B = 2 X, and C— D =2 Y ;

Hence it appears that A contains one half of A — B five
times, and that C contains one half of C — D also five
times, therefore A contains a part of A — B as often as C

GE03IFrniY.

671

contains a like part of C-
C — D. (Def. 3)

-D; therefore A:A— B::C:

Prob. VII. Theou.

If four quantities be proportionals, and there be taken
any equimultiples of the antecedents, and also any equi-
multiples of the coiisec|uents; the resulting quantities will
also be four proportionals.

Let A : B : : C : D ; and supposing m and n to be any two
numbers, let the antecedents A and C be taken each m
times, and the consequents B and D each n times; then
shall 7/1 A : 7J B : : 7;j C : 7i D.

For suppose that A contains two such equal parts as B
contains three : and consequently that C contains two such
equal parts as D contains three. (Def. 3.) Let each of
the parts contained in A and B be X, and each of the parts
contained in C and D be Y ; so that

A = 2X, B = 3X,

C = 2Y, D = 3Y;

Then, multiplying the antecedents by the number m, and

the consequents by n, and observing that 7«x2=2x'«, and

that ra X 2 = 2 X n. We have

m A ZZ 2 X '« X, n B rz 3 X n X,

?« C ^ 2 X 7« Y, 71 D n: 3 X n Y.

Here it is evident that m A contains one third of tz B twice ;
and that m C contains one third of ?z D also twice ; there-
fore 771 A : 7J B : : 77i C : 71 D. (Def. 3.)

Prop. VIII. Theor.

If there be any number of magnitudes, and as many
others, which taken two and two have the same ratio; the
first shall have to the last of the first series, the same ratio
which the first has to the last of the other series.

First, let there he three magnitudes A, B, C, A, B, C.
and otlicr three H, K L, such, that A : B : :
H : K, and B :C : : K : L, then A : C : : II H, K, L,
:L.

For let us suppose that A contains 2 such parts, each
equal to X, as B contains 3, and as C contains 7; then,
(Def. 3.) H will contain 2 such parts (each of which we
shall denote by Y) as K contains 3, and as L contains 7 ; so
that we have

Arr2X, Bzr3X, C=:7X,
then 11 = 2 Y, K zz 3 Y, L = 7 Y.
Here it is evident that A will contain one seventii of C
twice, and thci H will contain one seventii of L also twice;
therefore (Def. 3.) A : C : : II : L.

Next, let there be four quantities A,B,C,D, ,

and oilier four II, K, L, M, such that A : B : : |a, B, C, D
li : K, and B : C : : K : L, and C : D : : L : M ; IH, K, L, M.

then shall A : D : : H : M. For by the first I

case it is evident that A : C : : H : L ; and because C : D. : :
L : M ; therefore, as before, A : D : : H : iVI. The demon-
stration applies in the same manner to any number of
quantities.

JVote. Quantities which are proportionals, according to
.the hypothesis of this theorem, are said to be so from
cijuality of distance clirecth/, and the tlieorem is usually
cited by tlie words ex equali, or ex erjuo.

Prop. IX. Tiieor.

If there be any number of quantities, and as many others,
which taken two and two in a cross order have the same

A, B, C, D.

H, K, L, M,

ratio; the first shall have to the last of the first series the
same ratio that the first has to the last of the other series.

First, let there be three quantities A, B, C,
and other three H, K, L, such, that A : B : :
K : L, and B : C : : H : K ; then A : C : : H
:L.

For suppose A to contain two such equal parts as B
contains three, then K will contain two such equal parts
as L contains three, (Def. 3.) ; let each of the equal parts
contained in A and B be X, and let each of the equal parts
contained in K and L be Y, so that

A=:2X, B=:3X, K— 2Y, L=:3Y.
Also let Z be the same part of C that Y is of L, and let V
be the same part of H that X is of A; so that we have

C=:3Z, H=:2V.
Then, because B : C : : H : K ; that is 3X : 3Z : : 2V : 2Y,
and because 3X:3Z: :X:Z, and 2V : 2Y : : V : Y, (!.);
therefore X : Z : : V : Y, (Ax. 3.) ; hence, (by Prop. 7.)
2X : 3Z : : 2V : 3Y ; but 2X=A, 3Zz=C, 2V=:H, 3Y=:L ;
therefore A : C : : H : L.

Next, let there be four quantities, A, B,
C, D, and other four, H, K, L, M, such
that A : B : : L : M, and B : C : : K : L, and
C : D : : H : K ; then, A : D : : H : M ; for it
is evident by the first case, that A : C : : K
: M ; and because C : D : : H : K, therefore, as before, A :
D : : H : M. The same mode of demonstration will apply
to any number of quantities.

J^ote. The quantities in this proposition are said to be
proportional from equality of distance, but in a cross order ;
and the theorem is usually cited by the words, ex csquali in
proportione jierturbata, or ex cequo perturbate.

Prop. X. Theor.

If the first have to the second the same ratio which the
third has to the fourth, and the fifth have to the second the
same ratio which the sixth has to the fourth ; the first and
fifth* together shall have to the second the same ratio which
the third and sixth together have to the fourth.

Let A : B : : C : D, and also E : B : : F : D, then A+E : B
::C-fF:D.

Because E : B : : F : D, by inversion B : E : : D : F, (2.)
But by hypothesis A : B : : C : D ; therefore ex equali, (8.)
A : E : : C : F, and by composition A-fE : E : : C -f F : F.
Now again by hvpothesis, E : B : : F : D, therefore ex csqua-
//, (S.) 'A-f-E:B: :C + F:D.

Prop. XI. Theor.

If four quantities be proportionals, as the sum of one an-
tecedent and its consequent is to their difference, so is the
sum of the other antecedent and consequent to their dif-
ference.

Let A : B : : C : D, then A-f-B : A— B : : C-f D : C— D.
For by composition, A+B : B : : C + D : D (4.)

And by Div. and Inver. B : A— B : : D : C— D (5 and 2.)
Therefore ex (£r/uoA + B:A — B::C-fD:C— D (8)
Xote. Proportionals formed in this manner, are said to
be so by mixing.

Prop. XII. Theor.

If there be any number of proportionals, as one antece-
dent is to its consequent, so is the sum of all the antece-
dents to the sum of all the consequents.

672

GEOMETRY.

Let A: B : : C : D : : E : 1-, Uica A : B : : A + C + E : B +

D + 1-.

For suppose that A contains two such parts, eacli = X,
as B contains 1 luce ; and that C contains two such parts,
cacli = Y, as D contains lliree; and that K contains two
such parts, each = Z, as F contains llirce ; and so on, tlicn

A = 2 X, B = 3 X,

c = 2 y, D = 3 Y,
E = 2 Z, F = 3 Z.

Hence, by addition,

A + (' + E=2X + 2Y+2Z=2(X+Y+Z),
B + D + 1=:3X + 3Y+3Z=3(X + Y + Z).
Thus it a|)|)ears that A contains a third part of B twice,
and that A + C + E contains a third part ol B + D + F also
twice; therefore A : B : : A + C + E :B + D + F.

Prop. XIII. Prob.

To find the numerical ratio of two straight lines AB, CD,
supposing them to have a common measure.

Take the lesser of the two lines on the greater as often
as possible ; for example, twice, with a remainder EB.

Take the remainder BE on the line CD as often as pos-
sible ; once, for example, with a remainder DF.

Take the second remainder DF on the first BE as often
as possible ; once, for example, with a remainder BG.

Take the third remainder BG on the second DF as of-
ten as possible, and continue this process until a remainder
is found, wliich is contained an exact number of times in
that going before it. Then the last remainder shall be the
common measure of the proposed lines ; and considering it
as unity, we shall easily find the values of the preceding
remainders, and at last those of the two proposed lines ;
that is, we shall know how often each contains the unit, so
that if AB contain it m times, and CD contain it n times,
then AB : CD : : m: n.

For example, if it is found that GB is contained exactly
twice in FD BG shall be the common measure of the two
lines. Lei BC;:=1, then FD = 2 ; but EB = FD + GB,
therefore EBr:3 ; CDzzEB + FD, therefore CDzr5 ; last-
ly, AB^:2CD + EB, therefore AB— 13: therefore the ra-
tio of AB lo CD is that of 1 3 to 5.

Scholium. This operation is evidently the same as that
by which the common measure of two numbers is found.
Its demonstration is given in Algebra, Ait. 72. and 73. If
the operation terminate, and the lints have a common
measure, they are said to be commensurable ; but the lines
may be such that the opt ration will never terminate, and as
then the quantities have no common measure, they are
said to be incommensurable. The side ofas([Uare AB,and
its diagonal AC, are of this nature, (Fig. 86.) For if we
take AD^lAB, (Fig. 86.) and draw DE perpendicular to
AC, to meet CB in E, and join AE, the triangles ABE,
ADE will beeqiiol, (18. 1.) and BE=DE But the angle
DECziDAB (1 Cor. 24. 1 ) — DCB. (12. 1.) therefore
DEzzDC,(l3. 1.) rind hence BE^DC Now to determine
whether AB sn^l AC have a common measure, we first
take AB out of AC, and DC will remain; we next take
DC out of CB, and get it once, with a remainder CE; hut
as CE is still greater than DC, we must again take CD out
of CE, and then i)rocccding exactly as before, we must take
the last remainder out of CD as often as we can, and soon.
Now CE is evidcntlythe diagonal of a square, of which DC
is a side; therefore it appears, that in seeking the com-
mon measure, we must make the very same kind of con-
struction in tiiis second square that was made upon the
.first ; and again, in pursuing the operation, we must make

a like construction on a third square, and soon continually,
so that the operation can never come to an end : therefore
the (juantities AC, ABcan have no common measure.

On the subject of incommensurable quantities, see also
ALf.KnuA, Sect. VL

In the theory of proportion, we have, with a view to bre-
vity and perspicuity, treated only of commensurable ratios;
that is, such that can be accurately expressed by numbers.
Although the ratio of incommensurable quantities cannot
be so expressed, yet a ratio may be always assigned in num-
bers, which shall be as near to the true ratio as we please.
For let A and B be any two quantities whatever, and sup-
pose that X is such a part of A, that A— '« X ; then, if 7i
denote the number of times that X can be taken from B,
and D the remainder, we have Bzi'J X-J-D, and B — D^nX;
and because m : n : : ra X : n X, therefore m : n : : A : B — D.
Now as D is less than X, by taking X sufficiently small, D
may be less than any proposed quantity, and B — D may
differ from B by less than any given quantity; therefore
such values may be given to m and n, as shall make the
ratio of m to n as near to the ratio of A to B as we please.
Hence we may, with perfect confidence, apply whatever
has been delivered in this Section concerning commensura-
ble quantities to such as are incommensurable.

SECTION. IV.
The Proportion of figures.

Definitions.

1. Etjuivalent figures are such as have equal surfaces.
Two figures may be equivalent, although dissimilar. For
example, a circle may be equal to a square; a triangle to
a rectangle, kc.

We shall apply the term equal to such figures only as
would coincide entirely, if placed the one upon the other.

2. Two figuj es are similar, when the angles of the one
are equal to tlie angles of the other, each to each, and the
homologous sides proportional. By the homologous sides,
we mean those that have the same position in the two
figures, or which are adjacent to equal angles : the angles
themselves may be called homologous angles.

3. In two circles, similar sectors, similar arcs, similar
segments, are those which have equal angles at the centre.
Thus, if the angle A— O, the arc BC is similar to the are
DE, and the sector ABC to the sector ODE (Fig. 87*^

4. The altitude of a triangle ABC, (Fig. 96,) is a perpen-
dicular drawn from any one of its angles A upon the oppo-
site side BC its base.

The altitude of a parallelogram ABCE, (Fig. 94,) is the
distance AD between any two of its parallel sides.

The altitude of a trapezoid ABCD, is the distance EF
between its parallel sides. (Fig. 95 )

5. The area and the surface of a figure, are terms of
nearly the same import. The area, however, is more par-
ticularly the quantity of superficies, as expressed by some
other superficies taken a certain number of times.

Prop. I Theor.

Parallelograms which have equal bases and equal alti-
tudes are equivalent.

Let AB (Fig. 88.) be the common base of the two pa-
rallelograms ABCD, ABEF ; since they are supposed to
have the same altitude, their sides DC, FE, opposite to

GEOMETRY.

673

their bases, will be in the same atiaight line parallel to AB.
But by the nature of parallelograms AD=iBC, and AF =
BE; alsoDC=AB, and FE=AB, (26. 1.) and therefore
DC = FE ; and taking away DC and FE from the same
straiglit line DE, there remains UF=:CE : Hence the tri-
angles DAF, CBE have the three sides of the one equal to
the three sides of the other, each to each, therefore they
are equal (11. 1.) : Now if tlie former be taken away from
the quadrilateral ABED, tliere will remain the parallelo-
gram AFEB ; and if the latter be taken from the same
quadrilateral, the parallelogram ABC D will remain ; there-
fore the parallelogram ABCD is equivalent to the paral-
lelogram ABEF.

Cor. Every parallelogram ABCD is equal to a rectan-
gle FBCEof thesame base and altitude. (Fig. 89.)

Prop. II. Theor.
Any triangle ABC is half of a palallelogram ABCD of
the same base and altitude.

For the triangles ABC, ACD are equal, (26. 1.)
Cor. 1. Therefore a triangle ABC is half of a rectan-
gle BCEF, which has the same base BC and the same al-
titude AO.

Cor. 2. Triangles which have equal bases and equal al-
titudes are equivalent.

Prop. III. Theor.

Two rectangles of the same altitude are to one another
as their bases.

Let ABCD, AEFD be two rectangles, which have a
common altitude AD ; they are to one another as their
bases AB, AE.

For suppose that the base AB (Fig. 90.) contains seven
such parts as the base AE contains four; then, if AB be
divided into seven equal parts, AE will contain four of
them. At each point of division diaw a perpendicular to
the base ; these will form seven equal rectangles (1-);
and as AB contains seven such parts as AE contains four,
the rectangle AC will also contain seven such parts as
the rectangle AF contains four ; therefore AB has to AE
the same ratio that the rectangle AC has to the rectangle
AF.

Prop. IV. Theor.

Any two rectangles are to one another as the products of
the numbers which express their bases and altitudes.

Let ABCD, AEGF be two rectangles, (Fig. 91.) and let
some line taken as an unit be contained m times in AB the
base of the one, and n times in AD its altitude ; also /«
times in AE the base of the other, and g times in AF its
altitude ; the rectangle ABCD shall be to the rectangle
AEGF as the product m n to the product/; q.

Let the rectangles be so placed, that their bases AB, AE
may be in a straight line, then their otiier sides AD, AF,
shall also form a straight line (3. 1.) Complete the rec-
tangle EADH, and because this rectangle has the same al-
titude as the rectangle ABCD when EA, AB are taken as
their bases, and the same altitude as the rectangle AEGF
when AD, AF are taken as their bases, we have
ABCD : ADHE : : AB : AE : : ?n : fi (3.)
but m : // :: mn :/in ( 1 . 3 )
therefore ABCD : AEHD ■.■.m7i:fi ?i.
In like manner, it appears that

AEHD: AEGF:: AD: AF::n: r/::/in:fiy.
Therefore, ejT aijuo. ABCD : AEGF : : mn : fi g .

Scholium. If ABCD, one of the rectangles, (Fig. 92.)
be a square, having the measuring unit for its side, this
Vol. IX. Part II.

square may be taken as the measuring unit of surfaces ;
and because the linear unit AB is contained fi times in EF,
and g times in EH, by tiic proposition

IXl :/!?:: ABCD: EFGH;
hence the rectangle EFGII will contain the superficial unit
AlJCD as often as the numeral product fi g contains unity,
consequently the product /( g will express the area of the
rectangle, or will indicate how often it contains the unit of
superlicics. Thus, if EF contain the linear unit A15 four
times, and EII contain it three times, the area EFGH will
be 3x4:= 12, that is, twelve times a square whose side is
AB=:i.

Inconsequence of the surface of a rectangle EFGH be-
ing expressed by the product of its sides, the rectangle,
or its area, may be denoted by the symbol EF X FG ; or
thus, EF.FG, in conformity to the manner of expressing a
product in arithmetic.

However, instead of expressing the area of a square made
on a line AB thus, ABxAB,it is thus expressed, AB*.

JVole. A rectangle is said to be eontained by two of its
sides about any one of its angles.

Prop. V. Theor.

The area of a parallelogram is equal to the product of
its base by its altitude.

For the parallelogram ABCD (Fig. 93) is equivalent to
the rectangle ABEF, which has the same base AB and the
same altitude (1.) ; and this last is measured by ABxBE,
or ABxAF; that is, by the product of the base of the
parallelogram and its altitude (4.)

CoR. Parallelograms of the same base are to one another
as their altitudes; and parallelograms of the same altitude
are to one another as their bases. For in the former case,
put B for their common base, and A and A' for their alti-
tudes; then we have B x A : B x A' : : A : A'. And in
the latter, put A for their common altitude, and B and B'
for their bases ; then B x A : B' X A : : B : B'.

Prop. VI. Theor.

The area of a triangle is equal to the product of its base
by half its altitude.

For the triangle ABC (Fig. 94.) is half the parallelo-
gram ABCE, which has the same base BC, and the same
altitude AD (2.) ; but the area of the parallelogram is BC
X AD (5.) ; therefore the area of the triangle is A BC X
AD, orBC x^AD.

CoR. Two triangles of the same base are to one another
as their altitudes, and two triangles of the same altitude
are to one another as their bases.

Prop. VII. Theor.

The area of a trapezoid ABCD (Fig. 93.) is equal to
the product of half the sum of its parallel sides AB, DC
by its altitude EF.

Through I, the middle of the side BC, draw KL paral-
lel to the opposite side DA, and produce DC until it meet
KL. In the triangles IBL, ICK, the side IBziIC, the an-
gle B IZ C ( 2 Cor. 21. 1.), tlie angle BIL ziCIK ; there-
lore the triangles are equal (7. 1 .), and the side CK ^: BL.
Now, the parallelogram ALKD is the sum of the poly-
gon ALICD and the triangle CIK, and the trapezoid
ABC D is the sum of the same polygon and a triangle equal
to BIL ; therefore the trapezoid ABCD is equal to the pa-
rallelogram ALKD, and has for its measure ALxEF. And
because AL= DK and BL =CK, therefore AB -f CD =:
AL -f- DK 13 2 AL ; and hence AL is half the sum of the
parallel sides AB, CD : therefore the area of the trapezoid
is equal to i (AB -f CD) x EF.

4 Q

674

GEOMETRY.

Phop. VIII. Theoh.

If a straight line AC, (Fig. 97.) be divided into any two
parts AB, BC, the square made on the whole line AC is
equal to the squares on its two pans AB, BC, together with
twice the rectangle contained by these parts. Or the pro-
position may be biicfly expressed thus ; AC^ or (AB +
BC)-izAB2+BC-'-f2ABxBC.

Construct the square ACDE ; take AF — AB ; draw
FG parallel to AC, and BH parallel to AE.

The square ACDE is composed ol four parts ; the first
ABIF is the square on AB, because AF— AB ; the second
lODH is the square on BC ; for shice AC=rAE, and
AB— AF, the difference AC — AB is equal to the differ-
ence AE — AF, that is, BC =: EF ; but because of the pa-
rallels, BC = IG, and EF =111, therefore HIGD is the
square on BC. These two parts being taken from the
■whole square, there remains the two rectangles BCGI,
EFIH, which are each equal to AB x BC ; so that the
truth of the proposition is evident.

Pnop. IX. Thkok.

If a line AC, (Fig. 98.) be the difference of two lines
AB, BC,the square of AC shall be equal to the excess of
the squares of AB and BC above twice the rectangle con-
tained by AB and BC ; that is,

AC^or (AB— BC)-!=:ABHBC^— 2 AB x BC.

Construct the square ABIF, take AE n AC, draw CG
parallel to BI, HK i)arallel loAB, and complete the square
FEKL.

The two rectangles CGIB, GLKD are each equal to
AB X BC. If these be taken from the figure ABILKEA,
which is equal to AB^-J-BC^, there will evidently remain
the square ACDE, that is, the square of AB — BC.

Puop. X. Theou.

The rectangle contained by the sum and the difference
of two lines, is equal to the difference of the squares of
these lines ; (Fig. 99.) that is,

(AB+BC) x(AB — BC)=:AB2 — BC^

Construct upon AB and AC the squares ABIF, ACDE,
produce AB so that BKr: BC, and complete the rectangle
AKLE.

The base AK of the rectangle is the sum of the two
lines AB, BC ; the altitude AE is the difference of the
same lines; therefore the rectangle AKLE = (AB + BC)
X (AB — BC) But the same rectangle is made up of two
parts ABHE -|- BHLK ; and the part BHLK is equal to
the rectangle EDGE; for BH = DE, and BK = EF ;
therefore AKLE = ABHE -f EDGF. But these two
l-'arts form the excess of the square ABIF above the square
DHIG, which is the square of BC ; therefore (AB + BC)
X (AB — BC) = AB= — EC .

Prop. XI. Tiieor.

In any right angled triangle, the square which is described
on the side opposite to the right angle is equal to the sum
of the squares o^i the two sides containing the right angle.

Let ABC, (Fig. 100.) be a right angled triangle, of wliich
A is the right angle. Having formed squares on ihe three
sides, draw AD perpendicular to the hypothenuse, produc-
ing it to E ; draw also tiie lines AF, CH.

The angle ABF is made up of the angle ABC and a
light angle CliF; tiie angle HBC is made up of the same
angle ABC and a right angle ABH ; therefore the angle
ABF= HBC: but AB = BH, because they are sides of
the square, and BF = BC for a like reason ; therefore the
triangles ABF, HBC are equal (6. 1.) Now the triangle
ABF is half of the rectangle BDEF, or BE, because they

have the same base BF, ami the same altitude (2.)
and the triangle HBC is in like manner half of the
square BL, for they have the same base BH, and the
same altitude ; for, because the angles BAC, BAL are
right angles, the lines CA, AL form a continued straight
line (3. I.), which is parallel to BH ; therefore tlie rectangle
BE is e(|uivalent to the square BL. In like manner, by
joining AG and BI, it may be demonstrated that the rec-
tangle CE is equivalent to the squaie CK ; therefore the
two rectangles BE, CE, are together equal to the two
squares BL, CK ; but these rectangles make up the whole
square on BC, the side opposite to the right angle, and
BL, CK are tlie squares on BA, and AC, the sides contain-
ing the right angle ; therefore the square on the side sub-
tending the riglit angle is equal to the sum of the squares ou
the sides containing the right angle.

Prop. XIL Theoh.

In any triangle ABC, (Fig. 101.) the square of AB, the
side opposite to any one of its acute angles, is less than the
sum of the squares of the sides AC, (.'B, which contain
that angle ; and if a perpendicular AD be drawn to either
of these BC from the opposite angle, ilie difference shall
be eijual to twice the rectangle BC x CD, so that
AB'=AC- + CB=— 2 BC xCD.

There are two cases, according as the perpendicular falls
within or without the triangle. In case first, BD ^BC —
CD ; and in case second. BD::zDC — BC. In eillicr case,
BD^=:BC*-fCD^— 2 BCxCD(9.) To each of these
equals add D.^^, and we have

BD' + DA=i=BC=-f CD-f-DA=— 2BCx CD ; but
BD^-f DA==izBA- (11.), and CD^-f DA-=CA' ; there-
fore BA^=BC"+CA^— 2BCxCD.

Prop. XIII. Theou.

In any obtuse angled triangle ABC, (Fig. 102.) the
square of AB, the side opposite to the obtuse angle, is
greater than the squares of AC, BC, the sides containing
the obtuse angle ; and if a perpendicular AD be drawn on
either of these sides, the excess will be equal to 2 BC X
CD ; so tiiat we have

AB»nAC--|-CB='+2 BCxCD.

For BD = BC-fCD; therefore BD^zi BC^+CD" + 2
BCxCD (8.) ; to each of these equals add DA^, and we
ha\e

BD^-f DA'^^BC^+CD'+DA^-f 2 BCxCD.

But BD2-f D.\=rrBA= ; and CD' + DA^rrCA^ ; there-
fore BA^zrBC--fCA=+2 BCxCD.

Prop. XIV. Theor.

In any triangle ABC, (Fig. 103.) if a straight line AE
be diawn from its vertex to the middle of its base, the surn
of the squares of thi sides is equal to twice the square of
that line, and twice the square of half tlie base.

Draw AD perpendicular to the base. Then

AB^rrAE^ -f EB= -i-2BEx ED (13.)
AC^rr AE- -f EC-— 2CE x DE (12)
Hence, by .iJdinu:, ant! obs'jr\ing thatBEr^CE, and
tl.tiefore BE=rrCE% and BEx EDr:: CE X ED, wc get
ABH AC^::z2 -AE^-f 2 BE^.

Prop. XV. Theos.

A straight line DE, (Fig. 104.) drawn parallel to the base
of a triangle ABC, divides the sides .^B, AC proportional-
1) ; or so that AD : DB : : AE : EC.

Join BE and DC ; the two triangles BDE, CDE have
the same base DE ; they have also the same altitude, be-
cause BC is parallel to DE ; therefore they are equivalent,

GEOMETRY.

675

(2.) Again, because t)icuianglcs ADE, BDE have mani-
leblly ihe same aUitude, they are lo one another as tlieii-
bases, that is ADE : BDE : : AD : IJD. Also because
the liiangles ADE, C;DE liave the same altitude, Ihey are
to each other as their bases, that is, ADE : CDl", : : AE :
CE; but we have seen that tlic triangle BDE z:: triangle
CDE ; therefore, because of the common ratio in the two
proportions, it follows that AD : BD : : AE : CE.

Prop. XVI. Theok.

Conversely, if the sides AB, AC, (Fig. 104) be cut pro-
portionally by the line DE, so that AD : DB : : AE : EC,
the line DE shall be parallel to the base BC.

For if DE be not parallel to BC, some other line I>0
will be parallel to BC : then, by the preceding theorem,
AD : DB : : AO : OC, but by hypothesis, AD : DB : :
AE : EC ; therefore, AO : OC : : AE : EC ; and by com-
position, AC : OC : : AC : EC ; hence OC must be equal
to EC, which is impossible, unless the point O fall at E ;
therefore no line besides DE can be parallel to BC.

Prop. XVII. Theor.

If a straight line BD, (Fig. 105.) be drawn from the ver-
tex of a triangle, so as to make equal angles with its sides
BA, BC, the distances of the point D, in which it cuts the
base from A and C, the extremities of the base shall have
to each other the same ratio as the adjacent sides BA, BC
of the triangle : that is AD : DC : : AB : BC.

From C, one extremity of the base, draw CE parallel to
BD, meeting AB in E. The angle ABD— BEC and the
angle CBDrzBCE (2 and 3 Cor. 21. 1.), but by hypothesis
the angle ABDirCBD, therefore the angle BEC— BCE ;
hence the side BCzz side BE, (13.) Again, because ABD
J3 a triangle, and CE is drawn parallel to one of its sides,
AD : DCi : : AB : BE ; but it has been shewn that BE ZT
HC ; tlierefore AD : DC : : AB : BC.

Scholium. There may be two cases, in one the line BD
meets the base between its extremities ; and in the other,
it meets the base produced.

Prop. XVIII. Theor.

Two equiangular triangles have their homologous sides
proportionals, and the triangles are similar.

Let ABC, DCE (Fig. 106.) be two triangles which have
their angles equal, each to each, viz. BAC=CDE, ABC =
DCE, and ACBziDEC ; the homologous sides, or the sides
adjacent to the equal angles, sliall be proportionals ; that is,
BC : CE : : AB : DC : : AC : D E.

Place the homologous sides BC, CE in the same direc-
tion, and because the angles B and E are together less than
two right angles, the lines BA, ED sliall meet if produc-
ed, (Schol. 21. I.) ; let Ihem meet in F. Then, since BCE
is a straight line, and the angle BCA = E; AC is parallel
toFE (2 Cor. 20; 1.) In like manner, because the angle
DCE=B ; CD is parallel to FB ; therefore ACDF is a
parallelogram.

In the triangle BFE, the line AC is pni-allel to FE,
wherefore BC:CE : : BA : AF (15.) ; or since AF=CD,
BC : CE : : BA : CD. Again, in tiie same triangle BFE,
CD is parallel to BF, therefore BC : CE : : FD : DE ; that
is, because FD=AC, BC : CE : : AC : DE. Since then it
appears that the ratio of BC to CE is equal to the ratio of
BA to CD, and also to the ratio of AC to DE,it follows
that BA. : CD : : AC : DE ; therefore the homologous sides
are proportionals ; and because the triangles are equiangu-
lar, they are similar, (Def. 2.)

Scholium. It may be remarked, that the homologous
sides are opposite to liie equal angles.

Prop. XIX. Thkok.

Two triangles which have their homologous sides pro-
portionals, are equiangular and similar.

Suppose that BC : EF : : AB : DE : : AC : DF ; (Fig.
107.) the triangles ABC, DEF have their angles equal,
viz. yV=D, B = E, C=F.

At the point E, make the angle FEC; = B, and al P, make
the angle EFG=C, then C; shall ho equal to A (1 Cor. 24.
1 ), and the triangles GEF, ABC shall be equiangular;
therefore, by the preceding theorem, BC : EF : : AB : EG;
but by hypothesis, BC : EF : : AB : DE ; therefore EG =

DE. In like m:uiner we have BC : EF : : AC : FG ; but
by hypothesis, BC : EF : : AC: DF; therefore FG=:DF.
Thus it appears that the triangles D1-:F, GEF have their
three sides equal, each to each ; therefore they are equal
(1 1. 1.) But, by construction, the triangle GEF is equian-
gular lo the triangle ABC ; therefore also the triangles
DEF, ABC, are equiangular and similar.

Prop. XX. Theor.

Two triangles which have an angle of the one equal to
to an angle of the other, and the sides about them propor-
tionals, are similar.

Let the angle A=D (Fig. 108.) and suppose that AB :
DE : : AC : DF ; the triangle ABC is similar to DEF.

Take AG=DE, and draw GH pai-allel to BC ; the an-
gle AGII shall be equal to ABC (3. Cor. 21. 1.) and the
triangle AGH eciuiangular to the triangle ABC ; therefore
AB : AG : : AC : AH ; but by hypothesis, AB : DE : : AC :

DF, and by construction, AG = DE, therefore AH=DF.
The two triangles AGH, DEF have therefore an angle of
the one equal to an angle of the other, and the sides con-
taining these angles equal ; therefore they are equal (6. I.);
but the triangle AGH is similar to ABC; therefore DEF
is also similar to ABC.

Prop. XXI. Theor.

In a right angled triangle, if from the i-ight angle
A a perpendicular AD (Fig. 109.) be drawn to the hypo-
thenuse.

1. The two triangles ABD, ADC are similar to the
whole triangle ABC, and to each other.

2. Each side AB or A C is a mean proportional be-
tween the hypothenuse BC, and the adjacent segment BD
or DC.

3. The perpendicular AD is a mean propoitional be-
tween the two segments BD, DC.

First, The triangles BAD and BAC have the common
angle B ; and, besides, the right angle BDA is equal to the
riglit angle BAC ; therefore the third angle BAD of the
one, is equal to the lliird angle C of the other (1 Cor. 2-1.
1.) ; therefore the two triangles are equiangular and simi-
lar. In like manner it may be demonstrated, that the tri-
angle DAC is equiangular, and similar to the triangle
BAC ; therefore the three triangles are equiangular, and
similar to one another.

Secondly, Since the triangle BAD is similar to BCA,
their homologous sides are proportionals, that is, CB : BA : :
BA : RD (IS ) In like manner, because of the similar tri-
angles CAD, CBA, we have BC : CA : : CA : CD ; there-
fore each side is a mean pi'ojjortional between the hypo-
thenuse and its segment adjacent to that side.

Thirdly., Btciuse of the similar triangles BD.\, ADC,
we have BD ; DA : : DA : DC ; so that the pei pendicular
is a mean piopoi'tionai between the begmcnls of the hvpo-
thenuse.

4 Q 2

676

GEOMETRY.

Prop. XXII. Theor.

If four straight lines be proportionals, the rectangle con-
tained by the extremes is equal to the rectangle contained
by the means ; and conversely, if the rectangle contained
by the extremes be equal to the rectangle contained by the
means, the four straight lines are proportionals.

Let HA, HB, HC, HD (Fig. no.) l)e four straight lines,
proportionals ; the rectangle HA X ilD = rectangle HB
XHC.

Let HA, HB be placed in a straight line, and HC, HD
also in a straight line perpendicular to AB, and construct
the rectangles P=HAxHD, Q=HCxHB. und R = HDx
HB ; then HA : HB : : P : R, and HC : HD : : Q : R, (3.)
but by liypothesis, HA : HB : : HC : HD ; therefore P : R : :
Q : R, and hence P=:Q, that is H AxHD = HBxHC.

A-ain, if P=Q, that is, if HAxHD = HBxHC, then
HA: HB::HC:HD ; for the same construction being
made, we have P : R : : Q : R ; but P : R : : HA : HB ; and
Q : R : : HC : HD ; therefore HA : HB : : HC : HD.

CoR. If three straight lines be proportionals, the rectan-
gle contained by the extremes is equal to the square of the
mean ; and if the rectangle contained by the extremes be
equal to the square of the mean, the three straight lines are
proportionals.

Prop. XXIII. Theor.

If four straight lines be proportionals, and also other
four, the rectangles contained by the corresponding terms
shall be proportionals ; that is, if A : B : : C : D,and E : F : :
G : H ; then supposing rectangles constructed, having
these lines for their sides, as in the figure,

AxE:BxF::CxG: DxH.

On the line B construct another rectangle which shall
have E for its altitude ; and on the line D construct a se-
cond rectangle that shall have G for its altitude. Then, by
Prop. 3,

A:B::AxE:BxE, andC:D::CxG:DxG;
but A : B : : C : D, by hypothesis,
therefore AxE : BxE : : CxG :DxG;
Now, BxE:BxF ::E:F, and DxG:DxH : : G : H,
and by hypothesis E : F : : G : H ;
therefore BxE : BxF : : DxG : DxH ;
but it was shewn tiiat

AxE:BxE::CxG: DxG
therefore, ex £quo, AxE : BxF : : CxG : DxH.

Cor. Hence the squares of four proportional straight
lines are also proportionals.

Prop. XXIV. Theor.

(Fig. 112.) Two triangles, which have an angle of the
one equal to an angle of the other, are to each other as
the rectangle of the sides about the equal angles : That is,
the triangle ABC is to the triangle ADE as ABxAC to
ADxAE.

Draw BE ; the triangles ABE, ADE have a common
vertex E, therefore ABE: ADE : : AB : AD (Cor. 6.) ;
but AB: AD:: ABxAE: ADxAE (3.) therefore,

trian. AV>E:trian. ADE:: ABxAE: ADxAE.
In like manner it may be demonstrated, that

trian. ABC : trian. ABE : : ABx AC : ABx AE ;
therefore (8. 3.)

trian. ABC : trian. ADE : : ABx AC : ADxAE.
CoR. ). Therefore the two triangles are equivalent,
if AU x AC= AD X AE ; or if AB : AD : : AE : AC
(22.)

Cor. 2. Two parallelograms, which have an angle of the
one equal to an angle of the other, will be to each other as
the rectangles contained by the sides about these angles :

For the parallelograms are the doubles of triangles which
have an angle and two sides common with those of the pa-
rallelogram.

Prop. XXV. Theor.

Similar triangles are to each other as the squares oftheir
homologous sides.

(Fig. 108.) Let the angle AiiD, and the angle BziE, then,
AB:DE:: AC: DF (18.)
and AB: DE:: AB : DE,
for the terms of the two last ratios are identical, therefore,

AB^ : DE^ : : ACxAB : DFxDE(23.)
But trian. BAC : man. EDF:": ACxAB: DFxDE (24.)
Therefore trian. ABC : trian. EDF : : AB" : DE^

Prop. XXVI. Theor.

Similar polygons are composed of the same number of
triangles, which are similar, each to each, and similarly
situated.

In the polygon ABCDE, (Fig 1 13.) draw from an angle
A the diagonals AC, AD, and in the other polygon FGHIK,
draw in like manner from the angle V, which is homolo-
gous to A, the diagonals FH, FI. And since the polygons
are similar, the angle B is equal to its homologous angle
G, (Def. 2.) and iiesides, AB : BC : : I-'G : GH'; therefore
the triangles ABC, FGH are similar, (20.), and the angle
BCA~GHF ; these equal angles being taken from the
equal angles BCD, GHI, the remainders ACD, FHI are
equal ; but since the triangles ABC, FGH are similar, we
have AC : FH : : BC : GH, and because of the similitude of
the polygons we have BC : GH : : CD : HI ; therefore AC :
FH::CD:HI. Now it has been shewn that the angle
ACD=FHI ; therefore the triangles ACD, FHI are simi-
lar (20.) In like manner it may be demonstrated, that the
remaining triangles of the two polygons are similar ; there-
fore the polygons are composed of the same number of si-
milar triangles similarly situated.

Prop. XXVII. Theor.

The circumferences or perimeters of similar polygons
are to one another as their homologous sides ; and their
areas are as the squares of their homologous sides.

1. For by the nature of similar figures, (Fig. 1 13) AB ;
FG : : BC : GH : : CD : HI, &c. Therefore, AB is toFG
as AB-fBC-f-CD, &c. the perimeter of the first figure to
FG-|-GH-f HI, kc. the perimeter of the second figure
(12.3)

2. And because the triangles ABC, FGH are similar,
ABC : FGH : : AC^ : FH» (25.), and in like manner, be-
cause the triangles ACD, F'HI are similar, ACD : FHI: :
AC2 : FH2; therefore, ABC : FGH : : ACD : FHI, In the
same way it may be shewn that ACD : FHI : : ADE : FIK,
and so on, if the polygons consist of more triangles. Hence,
by Prop. 12. 3. the triangle ABC is to the triangle FGH
as the sum of the triangles ABC, ACD, ADE, or the po-
lygon ABCDE, to the sum of the triangles FGH, FHI,
ITK, or the polygon FGHIK : But the triangle ABC is to
the triangle FGH a« AB^ to FG- (25.) ; therefore the si-
milar polygons are as the squares of thcirhomologous sides.

Cor 1. If three similar figures have their homologous
sides equal to the three sides of a right angied triangle ;
the figure made on the side opposite to the right angle shall
be equal to the other two. For the figures are proportional
to the squares on their homologous sides; and since the
square on the side opposite to the right angle is equal to
the squares on the other two sides, the figure on the former
shall be equal to those on the latter.

CoR. 2. Similar polygons have to each other the dupli"
cate ratio oftheir homologous sides. For let L be a third

GEOMETRY.

G7;

pioponional to the homologous sides AB, FG, then (Def.
11. 3.) AB has to L the duplicate ratio of AB to FG ; but
AB : L : : AB^ : AB 4- L (3.) ; or, since AB x L = FG^
(Cor. 32.), AB : L : : AB^ : FG^ : : ABCDE : FGIIIK ;
therefore the figure ABCDE has to FGHIK the duplicate
ratio of AB to FG.

Phop. XXVIII. Theou.

The segments of two chords AB, CD, (Fig. 1 14.) which
cut each other witliin a circle, are reciprocally proportionals,
that is, AO : DO : : CO : OB.

Join AC and BD : In the triangles AOC,BOD, the
vertical angles at O are equal ; also the angle AizD, and
Cl^B (17. 2.); therefore the triangles are similar, and
the homologous sides proportionals, that is, AO : OD : :
CO : OB.

CoR. Hence the rectangle AOxOB is equal to the rect-
angle COxOD (22.) That is, the rectangle contained by
the segments of the one chord is equal to the rectangle
contained by the segments of the other.

Prop. XXIX. Theor.

If two chords BA, CD (Fig. 115.) in a circle be pro-
duced to intersect each other without it ; the distances of
the extremities of the chords from their mutual intersec-
tion are reciprocally proportionals, that is, AO : DO : :
CO : BO.

For joining BD and AC, the triangles OAC, OBD have
the angle O common, and besides, the angle B~C (17. 2.),
therefore the triangles are similar, and the homologous
sides proportional ; that is, AO : OD : : CO : OB.

Cor. Hence the rectangle AOxOB is equal to the
rectangle COxOD (22.)

Prop. XXX. Theor.

If from any point O in the prolongation of a chord CD,
(Fig. 116.) a tangent OA be drawn to the circumference,
the tangent is a mean proportional between the distances of
the intersection from the extremities of the chord. That is,
CO : OA : : OA : OD.

For if DA and AC be joined, the triangles OAD and
OAC have the angle at O common, besides the angle
OADz^C (20. 2.); therefore the two triangles are simi-
lar, and hence CO : OA : : OA : OD.

CoR. Hence we have AO^nCOxOD, (Cor. 22.)
Scholium. The three preceding propositions have a
great affinity. In fact, they constitute an individual pro-
perty of the circle ; for when two of the intersections unite,
the chord becomes a tangent.

Prop. XXXI. Theor.

In the same circle, or in equal circles, any angles ACB,
DEF (Fig. 117.) at the centres are to each other as the
arcs AB, DF of the circles, intercepted between the lines
which contain the angles.

Let us suppose that the arc AB contains three such
equal parts as DF contains five. Let A /;,/; y, jr B be the
equal parts in AB, and Dr,rs, &c. the equal parts in DF ;
draw the lines C /;, C y, E r, E «, &c. ; the angles AC/;,
fiC g, (jCB, DEr, kc. are all equal (15. 2.) therefore as
the arc AB contains ith of the arc DF three times, the
angle ACB will evidently contain |th of the angle DEF
also three limes ; and, in general, whatever number of
times the arc AB contains some part of the arc DF, the
same number of times will the angle ACB contain a lilie
part of the angle DEF.

PROBLEMS RELATIVE TO SECT. IV.

Problem I.

To divide a given straight line into any number of equal
parts, or into parts proportional to given lines.

1. Let it be proposed to divide the line AB into five
equal parts. (Fig. 118.) Through the extremity A draw
an indefinite straight line AG ; and in this line, take five
equal distances AC, CD, DE, EF, and FG, of any length.
Join BG, and draw CI parallel to GB, then AI will be the
fifth part of AB, and the distance AI being set off five
times from A, the line AB will be divided into five equal
parts at the points I, K, L, M, as required. For the sides
AG, AB are cut proportionally in C and I, (15.4.); and
as AC is one-fifth of AG, AI will also be one-fifth of AB.

Next let it be proposed to divide the line AB into parts
proportional to the lines P, Q, R, (Fig. 119.) From the
extremity A, draw the indefinite straight line AE, and
take AC~P, CDzzQ, DE:^R. Join the extremities E
and B, and draw CI, DK, parallel to EB ; then the line AB
shall be divided into parts AI, IK, KB proportional to the
given lines P, Q, R.

For because of the parallels AC : CD : : AI : IK (15.4),
and by composition, AD : DC : : AK : KI ; again, DE :
AD : : KB : KA ; therefore, ex aejuo, DE : DC : : KB :
KI, and so on ; since then it appears that AC : AI : : CD :
IK :: DE : KB, the parts of the line AB have to each
other the ratios of the lines AC, CD, DE, that is, of P, Q,
and R.

Prob. II.

To find a fourth proportional to three given lines A, B, C,

(Fig. 120.)

Draw the two indefinite lines DE, DF, making any angle.
On DE take DA — A, and DB = B ; and on DF take
DCirC ; join AC, and through B draw BX parallel to AC ;
then shall DX be the fourth proportional required. For
since BX is parallel to AC, DA : DB : : DC :DX(15.4.);
therefore DX is the fourth proportional required.

CoR. By this problem, a third proportional to two given
Snes may be found ; for it will be the same as a fourth pro-
portional to A, B and B.

Prob. III.

To find a mean proportional between two given lines A
and B.(Fig. 121.)

On the indefinite line DF take DE— A, and EFi^B ; on
DF as a diameter describe a semicircle DGF ; at the point
E draw EG perpendicular to the diameter, meeting the
circumference in G ; then shall EG be the mean propor-
tional required. Join GD and GF; the triangle I3GF is
right angled at G, for G is an angle in a semicircle (19.2 ) ;
therefore the perpendicular GE on the hypothenuse is a
proportional between DE andEF, (21.) that is, between
A and B.

PRon. IV.

To divide a straight line AB (Fig. 122.) into two parts,
so that one of them shall be a mean proportional between
the whole line and the other part.

At B, one extremity of the line, erect a perpendicular
BC equal to half AB ; on C as a centre, with CB as a
radius, describe a circle; draw AC to meet the circum-
ference in D, and take AFziAD ; then the line AB shall
be divided at the point F in the manner required, that is,
AB : AF :: AF : FB.

For AB being perpendicular to the extremity of the
radius BC, is a tangent to the circle (9. 2.) ; therefore if
AC be produced until it meet the circumference again in

C78

GE03IETIIY.

E, we shall have AE : AB : : AB : AD ; hence, by division,
AE— AB : AB : : AB— AD : AD ; but since BCzr.i AB,
therefore DKinAB, ami coiisc(|iiciitly AK — ABl^AD
n AF ; also, because AI'lzAD, wc luive AB— ADnKB ;
therefore AF : AB : : FB : AD, or AI", and by inversion,
AB : AF : : AF : FB.

Scholium. A line divided in this manner is said to be
cut in extreme and mean ratio ; and it may be remarked,
that AE is also divided into extreme and mean ratio at
the point D, for since AB=:DE, we have AE : DE ::
DE : AD.

PllOB. V.

Through a given point A (Fig. 123.) in a given angle
BCD, to draw a straight line BD, so that the parts AB,
AD coiilaintd betwten the point A and the two sides of tlie
angle sliall be equal.

Through the point A, draw AE parallel to CD ; take
EB^rEC, and draw AB to meet CD in D, and the thing
is done. F'or AE being parallel to CD, we have BE :
EC : : BA : AD ; but BEzrEC, therefore BA=:AD.

Pkob. VI.

To make a square equivalent to a given parallelogram,
or to a given triangle.

1. Let ABCD (Fig. 124.) be the given parallelogram,
AB its base, and DE its altitude. Between AB and DE
find a mean proportional XY (Prob. 3.) ; the square made
on XY shall be equivalent to the parallelogram ABCD.
For since by construction, AB : XY : : XY : DE; there-
fore, (Cor. 22.) XY'^ziAB xDEzz the parallelogram
ABCD, (Cor. 1.)

2. Let ABC (Fig. 125.) be the given tiiangle, BC its
base, and AD its altitude. Take a mean proportional be-
tween BC and the half of AD ; and let X\' be that mean.
The square made on XY'' shall be equivalent to the triangle
ABC.

For since BC : XY : : XY : i AD ; therefore XY==:
BCxi AD= triangle ABC.

Prob. VIL

Upon a given straight line AD, (Fig. 126.) to make a
rectangle DAEX eqviivalent to a given rectangle ABFC.

Find AX a fourth proportional to the three lines AD,
AB, AC, (Prob. 2.) ; the rectangle contained by AD and
AX will be that required.

For since AD : AB : : AC : AX, it follows that ADx
AXziABxAC (22.); therefore the rectangle ADEX is
equivalent to the rectangle ABFC.

Prob. VIII.

Having given any rectilineal figure to make another
equivalent to it, that shall have one side fewer.

Let ABCDE be the given figure. Draw a diagonal
CE so as to cut off from it a triangle CDE, (Fig. 127.)
through D, the vertex of the triangle, draw DF parallel
to its base CE, to meet AE, one of the adjacent sides of
the figure (produced if necessary) in F ; join CF, and the
figure ABCF shall be equal to the figure ABCDE, and
have one side fewer. For the triangle CFE is equivalent
to CDE (6.), therefore, adding the common space ABCE,
the figure ABCF is equal to tlie figure ABCDE.

ScHOLiiM. By this problem, a triangle may be found
that shall be equivalent to a rectilineal figure of any num-
ber of sides. Thus, the five-sided figure' ABCDE having
been reduced to the quadrilateral ABCF, if we join CA,
and draw BG parallel to CA, to meet FA produ<;ed in G,
and then join CG, the quadrilateral will be transfornud

into an equivalent lrianp;lc CGF, which will also be eq\ial
to the original figure ABCDE.

It has been already sliewn tliat a square may be Gnuud
equivalent to any triangle ; therefore by this, and Pi oh. 6.
any rectilineal figure v.natever may be irauafurmed into an
C(juivalent square.

Piioi). IX.

To make a square that shall be equal to the sum, or to
the difi'erence of two given squares.

Let A and B be the sides of the tv/o given squares.
(Fig. 128)

1. To make a square equal to the sum of two squares,
draw two indefinite lines ED, EF, conlainiuii; a right angle;
take DE~A and EGi^B ; join DG, and DG is evidently
the side of the square required, (11)

2. If a square is to be found equal to the diflference of
two squares ; form a right angle FEH ; take EG equal to
the lesser of the two sides A, B, and on G as a centre,
with a radius equal to the greater, describe an arc, to nte«t
EH in H ; then EH shall be the side of a square equal to
the difference of the squares on GH and GE, or on A and
B, as is evident from Prop. 1 1. Sect. 4.

Scholium. By tliis problem, a scjuare may be made
equal to any number of given squares.

Prob. X.

On a given straight line FG, homologous to AB (Fig.
113.) to describe a polygon similar to a given polygon
ABCDE.

Draw the diagonals AC, AD : at the point F make the
angle GFH equal to the angle BAC, and at G make the
angle FGH equal to ABC ; the lines FH, GH will meet
in H, and form a triangle FGH similar to ABC. In
like manner, on FTi, which is homologous to AC, con-
struct a triangle F"HI, similar to ACD ; and on FI, homo-
logous to AD, construct a triangle FTK similar to ADE.
The polygon FGHIK shall be similar to ABCDE. For
these two polygons are composed of the same number of
triangles, similar and similarly situated, (26.)

SECT. V.

Of Regular Polygons, .\nd the Measure of the
Circle.

Definition. A polygon, which is at the same time
equilateral and equiangular, is called a regzilar polygon.

Prop. I. Problem.

To inscribe a square in a given circle.

Draw two diameters AC, BD, (Fig. 129.) at right an-
gles to each other ; join their extremities A, B, C, D; and
the figure ABCD shall be the inscribed square. F'or the
angles ABC, BCD, &c. are right angles, (19. 2.), and the
chords AB, BC, kc. are equal.

Prop. II. Prob.

To inscribe a regular hexagon and an equilateral trian-
gle in a given circle.

F'rom any point B (Fig. 130.) in the circumference, ap-
ply BA and BC each equal to the radius BO; draw the
diameters AD, BE, CF, and join their a<ijoining extremi-
ties, and the figure ABCDEF, thus formed, will be tlie
hexagon required.

For the triangles AOB, COB being equilateral, each of
the angles AOB, BOC will be one third of two right an-
gles (4. Cor. 24.. 1.) ; therefore COD will also be one-third
of two right angles (2. 1.); Liierefore the angles AOF, FOE,
EOD, vertical to these, will be each one-tlurd of two right

GEOMETllY.

679

anglfB, and the six angles nt O will be cqti:il ; and lience
the straight lines AD, BC, CD, 1)E, KF, FA will be all
equ?.l (15. 2.), and the hexagon will be c(|iiilateral. It will
also l,c equiangiilav ; for the angles FA15, ABC, kc. stand
each on iwo-lhirds of the whole circmnlcrence ; therefore
they arc all equal (17.2.) If straight lines be drawn join-
ing A, C, E, the vertices of the alternate angles of the
hexagon, there will be formed an equilateral triangle in-
scril)L(l in the circle, as is sufficiently evident.

Scholium. In the same way as we have proved that
every equilateral hexagon is equiangular, it may be proved
that any equilateral polygon whatever in a circle is also
equiangular.

Prop. III. Prob.

To describe a regular decagon in a circle, also a regular
pentagon.

Divide the radius AO (Fig. 131.) in extreme and mean
ratio at the point M ; take the chord AB equal to the
greater segment OM, and AB shall be a side of the regu-
lar decagon, or figure of ten sides, which may be com-
pletely formed by placing straight lines, each equal to AB,
round the circumference.

Join BM ; and because, by construction, AO : OM : :
OM: AM, and AB = OM, therefore AO : AB : : AB : AM;
hence the triangles AOB, ABM, which have an angle
OAB common to both, have the sides about that angle pio-
porlionals ; therefore they arc similar (20. 4.) And because
the triangle AOB is isosceles, the triangle ABM is also
isosceles, and AB— BM ; but AB— MO, by construction;
therefore BM^MO, and the triangle BMO is isosceles.
Therefore the angle AMB, which is equal to the sum
MOB-f MBO (24. 1.), will be double MOB. But the an-
gle AMB:zMAB; therefore each of the angles OAB,
OB A is double AOB ; and the three angles of the triangle
AOB will be five times the angle O. Thus the angle O
will be one-fifth of two right angles (24. 1.), or one-tenth
of four right angles, theiefore tlie arc AB is one-tenth of
the circvimference; and the chord AB is the side of a re-
gular decagon inscribed in a circle.

If every second angle of the decagon be joined by straight
lines, there will be formed a regular pentagon ACEGI in-
scribed in the circle.

CoR. By this and the foregoing problems, a regular quin-
decagon, or polygon of fifteen sides, may be inscribed in a
circle. For let AL be the side of a hexagon ; then the
arc ABL will be }, or -^^^ of the whole circumference, and
tlie arc AB -^-g, or .jl- of the circumference, therefore the
difi'cience of the two arcs will be -i., or -L of the circum-
ference, and LB the chord of liic arc will be the side of a
quindecagon.

Scholium. By bisecting the arc subtended by a side of
any ])olygon, another of double the number of sides may be
inscribed in a circle. Hence, from a square, we may in-
scribe polygons of 8, 16, 32, &c. sides; and from a hexa-
gon, others of 12,24, &c.

The square, the regular pentagon and hexagon, and such
figuies as can be formed from them in the manner we
have desciibcd, were the only regular figures that the an-
cients could inscribe in a circle. A mathematician of our
own times, Mr Gauss, has however shewn, that a regular
polygon of 17 sides may be inscribed in a circle by drawing
straight lines and circles only; and that the same is true
of all polygons of which the number of sides is a prime
numl)crof the form 2"-f-I. This formula includes figures
of 3, 5, 17, 257, 65537, &c. sides; but the demonstration,
even in the case of 17 sides, has not yet been given on
principles purely gcom-vtrical. See Disquisiliones Ariili-

nicticj:, published at Brunswick, 1801 ; or a I'rench trans-
lation, 1807.

Prop. IV. Phob.

Having given any regular polygon ABCD, Sec. inscribed
in a circle, to describe a regular polygon of the same num-
ber of sides about the circle.

At II, the middle of the arc AB, (Fig. 132.) draw the
tangent aWb ; do the same at the middle of each of the
other arcs BC, CD, Sec. these tangents shall form by their
intersections a regular circumscribed polygon n bed, S<c.
similar to the inscribed polygon.

Draw the radii OH, OI, and because OH is perpendi-
cular to the tangent ab, (9. 2.) and also to the chord AB
(schol. 6. 2.), the tangent is parallel to the chord (19. 1.)
In like maimer it may be shewn, that all the other sides of
the circumscribing figure are parallel to the sides of the
inscribed figure. Draw a line from O to b; and because
the right angled triangles O 6 H, Ofil are equal (18. I.),
for they have a common hypothenuse Ob, and the side
OHizOI, therefore the angle HO 6ziIO b, and the line
O b passes through the middle of the arc HI, that is, a
line drawn from the centre to the intersection of any two
sides of the circumscribing polygon passes through the
intersection of the sides parallel to them of the inscribed
polygon: And because the angles cbO and abO are re-
spectively equal to CBO and ABO (3 Cor. 21. 1.), the
whole angle cAaizCBA ; in like manner it may be prov-
ed, that fia/irBAF, &c. therefore the angles of the cir-
cumscribing polygon arc equal to those of the inscribed
polygon. Again, because of the similar triangles OBA,
Ob a, and OBC, O b c, we have AB : c 6 : : (BO : b o : :)
BC :6c (18. 4.) but AB=BC, therefore a bzz.b c : For a
like reason b c'^ic d, &c.' therefore the circumscribing po-
lygon is regular and similar to the inscribed polygon.

Prop. V. Theor.

Regular polygons of the same number of sides inscrib-
ed in circles are similar, and are to one another as the
squares of the radii of the circles.

Let ABCDEF (Fig. 133.) and abcdcf be equilateral
hexagons inscribed in circles ; these will also be equian-
gular, (schol. 2.) and consequently regular; and because
all the angles of each polygon are together equal to eight
right angles (25. 1.), the angle A is \ of eight right angles ;
and as the same is also true of c, therefore the angles A
and a are equal. In like manner it appears that B— 6,
C— f, kc. and because the sides of each figure are all
equal, we have FA : AB : :/ a : a b, kc. therefore the po-
lygons are similar (2 def. 4.)

Draw BO, CO, 6 0, CO, to the centres: The triangles
BOC, b oc are similar, for the angles at O and o are equal,
each being -} of four right angles, and CO : OB : : c o : o b ;
therefore COB -.cob:: CO": c o^; but the triangles COB,
cob are manifestly like parts of the whole polygons; there-
fore (1.3) the polygons arc to each c.ther as the squares
of CO, c 0, the radii of the circles.

Prop. VJ. Theor.

A circle being given, two similar polygons may be found,
the one described about the ciicle, and the other inscrib-
ed in it, which shall differ from one another by less than
any given space.

Let Q (Fig. 134.) be the side of a square, equal to the
given space; bisect AC a fourth part of the ciri umfeience
of the circle, and again bisect the haifofthis fourth, and
jHOceed Jii this manner, always bisecting one of the arcs
Ibund by tiiC former bisection, until an arc is found of which

680

GEOMETRY.

the chord AB is less than t^j : As this arc will be an exact
part of the circumference, if we place chords AB, BC, CD,
&c. in it each equal to AB, the last will terminate at A,
and there will be formed a rejjular polygon ABCDE &c.
in the circle.

Next describe about the circle a regular poly^jon abode,
&c. of the same number of sides as the inscribed polygon,
and having its sides parallel to those of the latter (4.) The
difl'erence of these two shall be less than the square of the
line Q.

For, draw lines from a and A to O the centre, these will
pass through A and B, as was shewn in the demonstration
of Prop. 4. also a line drawn from O to K, the point in
which ab touches the circle, will bisect AB in I, and be
perpendicular to it (6. 2.): complete the diameter AOE,
and join EB. Put P for the circumscribing polygon, and
ft for the inscribed polygon ; then, because the triangles
ao b, AOB are manifestly like parts of P and ft, we have
P -./i : :a ob : AOB ; (1.3.) but these triangles being si-
milar, aoi: AOB:: 002 :OA% or OK.= , (25. 4.); and
again, because the triangles On K, EAB are manifestly
similar, we have Od'-.OK^:: EA^: EB^ (18. and 23.4.);
therefore V : fi:: EA": EB^, and by conversion, P : P — fi
: : EA^: EA^ — EB^ or AB^. Now, as a square describ-
ed about a circle will manifestly include within it a poly-
gon of 8, also of 16, and of 32 sides, &c. the polygon P will
be less than the square of EA ; therefore P — fi, the differ-
ence of the circumscribing and inscribed polygons, will
be less than the square of AB, that is, by construction,
less than the given space Q. (cor. 3. 3.)

Cor. I. Because the polygons differ from each other
more than either differs from the circle, we may infer,
that a polygon may be described about a circle, and also
a polygon may be inscribed in a circle, either of which
shall diff'er from the circle by less than any given space.

Cor. 2. A space that is less that any polygon what-
ever, described about a circle, and also greater than any
polygon whatever, inscribed in the same circle, must be
equal to that circle.

Axiom.

If HBI (Fig. 132) be any arc of a circle, and * H, 6 I
tangents at its extremities, the sum of the tangents 6 H, d I
is greater than the arc HBI.

Cor. The circumference of a circle is less than the peri-
meter of its circumscribing polygon.

Prop. VII. Theor.

The area of any circle is equal to a rectangle contained
by half the perimeter, and the radius.

Let ABt'D, &c. (Fig. 134.) be a regular polygon in-
scribed in the circle, and abed U.c. a similar polygon, des-
cribed about it, and having the sides a b, b c, &c. parallel to
AB, BC, &:c. draw OIK perpendicular to AB, a b ; and
OAfl, OB6, through the points A, a, and B, b. Let P be
the perimeter of the polygon n A c rf &c. /j that of the poly-
gon ABCD &c. and Q that of the circle.

The triangle a O A la equal to J a AxOK, (6.4.) and mul-
tiplying these ecjuals by n, the number of sides of the poly-
gon, we have 7ix trian a O A~«x J oAxOK ; but nxirian.
a O 6 is manifestly the area of tl,« polygon abed &.c. and
7ixiab, or hxnxab is equal to J P ; therefore the area of
the polygon a A rrf Sec. is Jj PxOK ; and similarly, the area
of the polygon ABCD b:c. is ifixOl.

Because iQ,iCiP, therefore d QxKO.^i PxKO, but
\ PxKO is the area of the polygon abed &c. therefore
iQxKOis less than the area of the polygon a b e <l &c.
Again, because i i^-p'hfi^ therefore h QxdK-::?'i/ixOK ;
bMi ()K-::P'f)r, and4/;xOK-p='i/iXOI: much nWe then

is ^^QxOK-p'lAXOI, but ^ AxOI is the area of the poly-
gon ABCD, fctc. therefore i QxOK is greater than the
area of the polygon ABCD, £J.c. Thus it appears, that
the rectangle contained by iQ the perimeter ol the circle,
and OK its radius, is greater than any polygon inscribed
in the circle, and less than any polygon described about
the circle ; therefore it must be exactly equal to the area
of the circle, (Cor. 6.)

Prop. VIII. Theor.

The areas of circles are to each other as the squares of
their radii.

Let ABCDEF,(Fig. 133.) ando be defht, regular,and
similar polygons inscribed in. the circles; and as OB* :
0 6^, so let the circle ABCDEF be to a fourth proportional
Q; then because OB' : o 6^ : : pol. ABCDEF : ^oVabedef,
(5.) it follows, that

pol. ABCDEF : pol. aficrfe/:: cir. ABCDEF : Q.

Now the third term of this proporition is greater than
the first, therefore the fourth is greater than the second ;
that is, Q is greater than any polygon inscribed in the cir-
cle ab e d e f.

Because the areas of similar polygons described about
a circle are also to each other as the squares of the radii, it
may be shewn in the same way, that the space Q is less
than any polygon described about the circle abed ef, there-
fore Q must be exactly equal to the circle abed ef (2
Cor. 6.) and the circle ABC &c. is to the circle a b c &c. as
OB* tooA*.

CoR. 1. The perimeters of circles are to each other as
their radii. Let P be half the circumference of the circle
ABCDEF, and R its radius; also let/i and r be half the
circumference and the radius of the other circle ; then the
areas of the circles are equal to the rectangles PxR and
fiy-r, (7.) ; and it has been shewn, that PxR '-fixr: : R^ :
r* ; therefore, by alternation, PxR : R^ : : fixr : r* ; but
PxR : R* :: P : R, anil fiXr : r' : :/i : r ; therefore P: R: :
ft : r; and by alternation, P : fi : : R : r.

CoR. 2. A circle described with the hypothenuse of a
right angled triangle as a radius, is equal to two circles
described with the other two sides as radii, (Fig. 135.) Let
the sides of the triangle be a, b, and its hypothenuse A : and
let the circles described with these lines as radii be A, B,
and H ; and because

A:H::a- ://%
and B:H::«* :/i* ;
Therefore A-|-B: H::a*+A= : A' (10. 3.) but a^'+b^zz
A2; therefore A-f-B— H.

Prop. IX. Prob.

Having given the surfaces of a regular polygon inscribed
in a circle, and of a similar polygon described about it, to
find the surfaces of the inscribed and circumscribed poly-
gons of double the number of sides.

Let AB (Fig. 136.) be the side of the inscribed polygon,
EF parallel to AB, that of the similar circumscribed poly-
gon, and C the centre of the circle. If the chord AM, and
the tangents AP, BQ be drawn, the chord AM shall be the
side of an inscribed polygon of double the number of sides,
and PQ~2 PM, the side of a similar circumscribed poly-
gon. This being supposed, as the same construction may
be made in all the different angles equal to ACM, and as
the triangles contained in ACM have to each other the ra-
tios of the whole polygons, it will be sufficient to consider
these only.

Let A be the surface of the inscribed polygon, of which
AB is a side, B the surface of the similar circumscribed
polygon, a the surface of the polygon, of which AM is a
side, and b the surface of the circumscribed polygon. -A

GE03IETRY.

631

and B are supposed known, and it Js required to determine
a and b.

1. The triangles ACD, ACM, are to each other as their
bases CD, CM, (Cor. 6. 4 ) besides they arc to each other
as the polygons A and a, ol which thev are like parts ; there-
fore A : a : : CD : CM. The triangles C A M, CM E, are to
each other as their bases CA, CE, and also as the |)olygons
c and B ; thereloren : B : : CA : CE. But because of the
similar triangles CD A, C.VIE, we have CD : CM : : CA :
CE, (is. 4.) therefore A : a : : a : B ; so that the polygon
a, one of those we seek, is a mean proportional between
the two known polygons A and B ; and if these are ex-
pressed by numbers, a will be found by taking the square
root of their product ; tliat is, aiZv/AxB.*

2. Because of the common altitude CM, tlie triangle
CPM is to the triangle CPE as PM to PE ; but because
the angle ECM is bisected bv CP, PM : PE : : CM : CE
(17. 4.) ::CD: CA :: A : rt, therefore CPM : CPE: : A : a,
and by inversion and composition, CPM + CPE, or CME :
CPM : : A-j-a : A, and taking the doubles of the conse-
quents, CME : 2 CPM : : A + a : 2 A ; now CME and 2
CPM, or CMPA, are like parts of the polygons B and b,
therefore A-j-a : 2 A : : B : b ; hence b is known, because it
is a fourth proportional to the three known quantities A-fa,

2 A X B
2 A andB, and b'^z—7 • Therefore, by means of the

A-fa

polygons A and B, it is easy to find the polygons a and b,
which have double the number of sides.

Prop. X. Prob.

To find nearly the ratio of the diameter -of a circle to its
circumference.

The most obvious method, although not the best, is to
express the diameter by a number, and compute the areas
of two polygons of the same number of sides, one inscrib-
ed in the circle, and the other described about it. The area
of the circle itself will be some quantity between these two.
If the number of sides be considerable, either, or any quan-
tity between them, will be nearly equal to the area of the
circle. And since the area is equal to the rectangle con-
tained by the radius and half the circumference, if the ap-
proximate value of the area be divided by the radius, twice
the quotient will be an approximate value of the circum-
ference.

Let us suppose the radius to be unity, then the diame-
ter will he 2, and the side of a square described about the
circle, will be expressed by the number 4 ; and as the in-
scribed square A, isevidently half the circumscribed square,
the area of the inscribed square will be 2. Employing now
the formulse found in last proposition, viz.

^ Axa

and making Az:2, and B:=4, we find a, the area of a regu-
lar polygon of eight sides inscribed in the circle, ~\/2X4
r; v^ 8 "2.8284271, and b the circumscribed polygon

:r:3. 3137085.

Putting now A=2 8284271, and B=3.3137085, we may
hence find a and b the inscribed and circumscribed figures
of 16 sides, and so on as in this Table.

Number of Sides.

Inscr. Po!)'ffon.

Circum. Pol

2.00.iOOOO

4.0000000

2.8284271

3 5137085

3 0614674

5 I825')79

3 12144.5 1

•T 15172-19

3.1365483

3 1441184

128

3.140331 1

3 M2223rt

2.55

3.I4I2772

3 I417.i0.l

5 12

3.I415I38

3.1416.521

1024

3.141572'.)

3 1416(25

2048

3.1415877

3 141595 1

4096

3.1415914

3 I41593J

8102

3.1415923

3.141592.'!

16384

3.1415925

3.1415927

32768

3.1415926

Hence it appears that the inscribed and circumscribing
polygons of 3276S sides agree in the first seven decimal
places of the numeral expressions for their value ; there-
tore the numeral expression for the circle itself, which is
between these, will be correct in all these figures; so that
the radius of a circle being one, its area is 3.1415926 near-
ly, and this divided by the radius gives 3.14159926 for hall'
the circumference nearly, the radius being one ; hence the
diameter is to the circumference nearly as 1 to 3.1415926
nearly.

Scholium. By this method, the ratio of the diameter to
the circumference maybe I'uund to any approximate de-
gree of accuracy. Archimedes, by means of inscribed and
circumscribed polygons of 9 6 sides, shewed that the diame-
ter is to the circumference nearly as 7 to 22 ; and Metius
found, by polygons of a greater number of sides, that the
diameter is to the circumference as 113 to 355. The man-
ner of deducing these from the ratio found in the proposi--
tion, is explained in Algebra, art. 364. t

Prop. XI. Prob.

To find a straight line nearly equal to any given arc of
a circle.

Let AB (Fig. 157.) be any arc of a circle, of which C is-
the centre. Draw the radii CA, CB, and draw AH per-
pendicular to AC, and CD perpendicular to CB, meeting
HA in D. Bisect the angle ACB by the straight line CH ;
again bisect the angle ACH by the line CI, and bisect the
angle ACI by the line CK, and bisect the angle ACK by
the line Cl<, and proceed in this manner with any number
of bisections ; the greater the number, the more accurate
will be the result.

Let H, I, K, L, Sec. be the points in which the bisecting
lines meet the line DA. In AD produced, take DP==: J of
AH, PQ=iof AI, QRzz-J of AK, RS=Jj of AL, and so
on, if there were more lines intercepted between A and the
bisecting lines, but if AL be the last, then take ST^ri of
RS. Draw a straight line now from C to T, and draw Cb
perpendicular to CT, meeting AH in b, and the straight
line Ab shall be nearly equal to the arc AB of the circle.

This construction is derived from an elegant formula
which we have investigated in the conclusion of the Arith-
metic OF Sines, also in Conic Sections, (Sect. VII.) It
is this, putting a for any arc,

— = cot. a -J- 4 tan. J a + i tan. i n -f| tan. ^ a+ Sec.

Now, from the construction of the definition of the trigo-
nometrical lines about a circle, it is manifest that AD is
the cotangent of AB or a, and that AH=etan. ia, AI = tan'.
ia, £cc. and therefore that DP^^ tan. Ja, PQ=itan. io, &c.

' The radical sign ^ placed over the symbol that expresses any quar.tlty, indicates that the square root of the expression which it affects
is to be taken. See Algebra, Art. 137.

■\ The ratio of 113 and 355 is easily remembered, by observing that the figures of the numbers are 1, 1,3, 3, 5, 5, viz. the first three odd
numbers each repeated.

Vol. IX. Pari II. 4R

682

GEOMETRY

and therefore that AS=: cot. a + i tan. ia+itan. J.o+i tan.
^a+j\ tan. Jyo ; the addition of ST = ^ US is an approxi-
mate value of Uie sum of the remaining termsof the scries;
and as TC A is a right-anp;led triangle, of which C is the
right angle, CA^=ATxA6 (21. 4.) and

CA=

=AT, that is

:cot. a+i tan. ia+ kc.

A6 ~"*' A6

Hence it is evident that A4~arc a.

ScHOLivM. If wc suppose the arc AB a quadrant, then

AD=:0, and by calculation, (see Aritii.metic o* Sines,

Art. 33), supposing CA=1, it will be foiiiul tii.'.l D"—
5000000 1>Q=:.1035531,QU IT .0248640. K-S = 0061^67,
ST = .00205 19 ; hence DT or AT ^ .fi3fiC250 ; - (1 sii;ce
AT: AC=:1 : : AC : Ah, wc find AA or ABz:l. 570784, the
approximate value of the quadrant. The more coriccl value
is 1.57079 6, kc. by which it appears that the error is little

move than the - part of the radius.

lOOCJOO

Part II. TIJE GEOMETRY OF SOLIDS.

SECT. I.
Of Planes and Solid Angles.
Definitions.

1 . A straight line is Jierfiendicular or at right angles to a
plane, when it makes right angles with every straight line,
meeting it in that plane. On the other hand, the plane is
perpendicular to the line.

2. A straight line is/iaraltel to a plane when they do not
meet, to whatever distance both are produced. The plane is
also parallel to the line.

3. Two planes are /larallel to each other, when they do
not meet although produced.

4. Admitting what will be afterward demonstrated (in
Prop. S.) that the common sections of two planes is a
straight line, the angle or the inclination of two planes is
the angle contained by two straight lines, drawn from the
same point of their common section at right angles to it ;
the one in the one plane, and the other in the other. This
angle may be either acute, right, or obtuse.

5. If this angle is a right angle, the planes are perpen-
dicular.

6. A solid angle isthat whicli is made by the meeting of
more than two plane angles, which are not in the same
plane, in one point.

Prop. I. Theor.
A straight line cannot be partly on a plane, and partly
above it.

For, according to the definition of a plane, when a straight
line has two common points with a plane, it is ejitirely on
that plane.

Pkop. II. Theor.

Two straight lines, which cut each other in a plane, de-
termine its position ; that is, a plane which passes through
two straight lines, that cut each other, can have only one
position.

Let AB, AC (Fig. 138.) be two straight lines which cut
each other in A ; suppose a plane to pass through AB,
and to turn on that line, until it pass through C ; then the
points A and C lying on the plane, the whole line AC will
be in the plane ; therefore the position of the plane is de-
termined by the single condition of its containing the two
straight lines AB, AC.

CoR. 1. Any triangle ABC, or three points A, B, C, not
in a straight line, determine the position of a plane.

CoR. 2. Therefore also any two parallels AP, ED (Fig.
141.) determine the position of a plane, for if a straight line
AD meet them, the plane of the two lines AP, AD is that
of the parallels AP, ED.

Prop. III. Theor.

If two planes cut each other, their common section is a
straight line.

Draw a straight line joining any two points E and F*
(Fig. 139.) ill the common section of two jjlanes AB CD,
this line will be wholly in the plane AB (i)y the definition of
a plane), and also wholly in the plane CD; therefore it is
in both planes at once, and consequently is their common-
section.

Prop. IV. Theor.

If a straight line AP is perpendicular to two straight lines
PB, PC at the point of their intersection P, it is perpendi-
cular to the plane in which these lines are.

Through P draw any straight line PQ in the plane of the
lines PB, PC; through Q, any poiiK in that line, draw a
straight line lo meet PB, PC, so that BQ = QC, (Piob, 5.
Sect. 4. Part I.) Join AC, AQ, AB; and because ABC is
a triangle, of which the base BC is bisected at Q, therefore

AB' + AC = =2BQ--f 2AQ^ (14. 4. Part. I.)
In like manner, in the triangle PBC, we have
PB--f PC^=2BQ=-f2PQ= ;
therefore, taking ec|iuls from equals, we have

AB'— PB--fAC=— PC^=2AQ=— 2PQ'.
But because the triangles APB, APC are right angled at
P, AB^_PB'=AP-'; and AC^— PC'=AP2 (11. 4.);
therefore

AP^ + AP2=:2AQ'— 2PQ = ,
that is, 2AP==:2AQ'— 2PQ=,and AP==AQ"— PQ-, and
AQ^IzAP^-fPQ. hence in the tikngle APQ, the angle at
P must be a right angle, (1 1, 12, and 13. of 4. Part I.) and
AP is perpendicular to any line v.'hatever on the plane of
the lines PB, PC, therefore it is perpendicular to the plane
itself, (Def. 1.)

Cor. 1. The shortest line than can be drawn to a plane
from \ any point above it, is the perpendicular AP.

Cor. 2. Only one perpendicular PA can be drawn to a
given plane, from a given point P in that plane: For if two
perpendiculars could be drawn, a plane might pass along
them, and meet the given plane in PQ; and thus two lines
would be perpendicular to PQ, which is impossible.

CoK. 3. It is also impossible to draw more than one
straight line perpendicular to a plane, from a point without
it. For if there could be two perpendiculars AP, AQ, the
triangle APQ would have two right angles, which is im-
possible.

Prop. V. Theor.

If a straight line AP is perpendicular to a plane MN,
every straight line DE, parallel to AP, is perpendicular to
the same plane.

Let a plane pass along the parallels AP, ED, so as to
meet the plane MN in the line PD. In this plane draw a
line BDC through D, perpendicular to PD, take equal dis-
tances DB, DC, and join AB, AC, AJ). And because in
the triangles DBP, DCP, 1)B— DC, and DP is common to
both, and the angle PDB=PDC, therefore PBizPC (6. 1.
Part I.) Again, in the triangles APB, APC, AP is com-

GEOMETRY.

683

rnon to both, and it lias been bhcwii lliat PB = PC, besides
the angles A?B APC are rii^lit angles, because AP is pcr-
pcndiculiir U> llic plane MN, tiicreloi'e Ali = AC, so that
the trinngle A13C is isosceles; hence BD is ijci'pentlicnlar
to AU (12, 1. Part I.); but BD is also pcipcndii^ulai- to
PD, by construcuion thcTeforr BD is i)crpendiculai- to the
plane of tlie tiiangle APD (4-.), and consequently to DE,
wiiich is in lliat plam- ; sinet; then F,DB is a liglit angle,
and alto EDP is a right angle (I Cor. 2l. Part 1.), the line
DE is perpiniliculai' to the two lines DP, DB; it is thcrc-
ibrc pt^rjjcndicular to the plane MN.

Cou. 1. Conversely, il ilic two straight lines AP, Dl",
are peipentiieular to the same plant MN, they -jrc parallel :
l"or ifUiey are not, let a line be drawn through D parallel
to AP, this line will be prrpcndiciilar to the plane MN;
therefore through the same j)oint D, two perpendiculars
can be drawn to the same plane,- which is impossible, (2
Cor. 4.)

CoK 2. Two straight lines A and B parallel to a third
C, though not in the same plane, are parallel to one an-
other; for suppose a plane perpendicular to the line C,the
lines A and B, which arc parallel to C, will be perpendicu-
lar to this plane ; therefoi e, by the preceding corollary, they
■tvill be parallel to one another.

Prop. VI. Theor.

Two planes MN, PQ, (Fig. 142.) perpendicular to the
same straight line AB, are parallel to each other.

For if they could meet, let O be one of their common
points; join OA, OB ; then, because AB is perpendicular
to tlie two planes, the angles 0.\B, OBA art* right angles
(Def. 1.) ; therefore OA OB are two perpendiculars from
the same point on the same straight line, which is impossi-
ble ; therefore the planes cannot meet, that is, they are
parallel.

Prop. VII. Theor.

The intersections EF, GH, (Fig. 143.) of two parallel
planes MN, PQ, with a third plane FG, are parallel.

For if the lines EF, Gil situated in the same plane, be
rot parallel, they would meet if produced; therefore, the
planes in which they are would also meet, and consequent-
ly would not be parallel.

Prop. VIII. Theor.

A straight line AB (Fig. 142 ) perpendicular to a plane
^IN, also peipcndicular to any plane PQ parallel to MN.

From B draw any straight line BC in the plane PQ, and
let a plane passing through BC and AB meet the plane MN
in AD, then AD will be parallel to BC, (r.) Now AB is
perpendicular to AD one of two parallel lines AD, BC,
therefore it is perpendicular to BC the other line, (21. 1.
Part. I.) ; and since BC is any line drawn from B in the
plane PQ, it follows that AB is perpendicular to the plane
PQ, (Def. 1.)

Prop. IX. Theor.

Parallel straight lines F.G, FH (Fig. 143.) intercepted
between two parallel planes MN, PQ iire equal.

Let a plane EGHF pass through tiie parallel lines, so as
to meet the parallel pl.utcs in the lines P.F. GH ; Uicse arc
parallel to each other (7.), as well as EG. FH ; therefore
EFHG is a parailelogra n, and hence EG = FH.

CoR Parallel planes are eveiy where at the same dis-
tance from each other ; for if EG and FH are perpendicu-
lar to the two pl;^nes, they are parallel (1 Cor. 5.), and
therefore are equal.

Prop. X. Theor.

If two straight lines CA, EA (lug. 144.) meeting one

another, i)C parallel to two others DB, IB that meet one
anoth'-r, though not in the same plane with the first two;
the first two and the other two shall contain equal angles;
and the plane passing through the first two, shall be parallel
to the plane passing through the other two.

Take AC=BD, AEzrHF, and join CE, DF, AB, CD,
1".F. Since AC is equal and parallel to BD, the figure
ABDC is a parallelogram, (28. 1. Part I ) ; therefore CD
is ctpial and i)ar;.llcl to AB. For a like reason, EF is equal
and parallel lo AB; therelore also CD is equal and paral-
lel to EF. The figure CEFD is therefore a p^i-allelogram,
and thus the side CI", is f(|u:il and parallel to DF; there-
fore the triangles CAE, DBF are equal (1 1. 1. Pait I.) and
the angle CAE = DBF.

In the next place, the plane ACE is parallel to the jjlane
BDF; for if the plane passing through A ijni'allel to BDF
could meet the two lines DC, FE in any other i)oinls than
C and E, for exam])le in G ai;d H, then the three lines AB,
DG, FH would be equal {').), and thus DG would bo equal
to DC, and FH to FE, which is absurd ; therefore the plane
AEC is parallel to BFD.

Prop. XI. Tiieor.

If three straight lines AB, CD, EF, (Fig. 144) not situ-
ated in the same [jlanc, are equal and parallel, llie triangles
ACE, BDF formed by joining the extremities of these lines
are equal, and their planes parallel.

For since AB is equal and parallel to CD, the figure
ABDC is a parallelogram, therefore the side AC is equal
and parallel to BD ; in line manner, it may be shewn that
the sides AE, BF are equal and parallel, as also CE, DF ;
therefore the two triangles CAl", BDF are equal; it may-
be demonstrated, as in the last proposition, that their planes
are parallel.

Prop. XII. Theor.

If two straight lines be cut by parallel planes, they shall
be cut in the same ratio.

Let the straight line AB (Fig. 145.) meet the parallel
planes MN, PQ, RS in A. E, B ; and let the line CD meet
the same planes in C, F, and D; then shall AE : EB : :
CF : FD.

Draw AD to meet the plane PQ in G, and join AC, EG,
GF, BD ; the intersections EG, BD ofthe parallel planes
PQ, RS with the plane ABD are parallel (".), therefore
AE : EB : : AG : GD, (15. 4. Part I.) In like manner, the
intersections AC, GF are parallel, therefore AG : GD : :
CF : FD ; hence, because ofthe common ratio AG : GD,
we have AE : ED : : CF t FD.

Prop. XIII. Theor.

If a straight line AP (Fig. 146.) be perpendicular to a
plane MN, every plane AP15, whicli passes along AP, shall
be perpendicular to the plane MN.

Let BC be the intersection of the planes AB, i\IN. In
the plane MN draw DE perpendicular to BP ; then, be-
cause AP is perpendicular to every line drawn from P in
the plane MN, the angles APD and APB are right angles ;
but the angle APD formed by the two perpcncUculars PA,
PD is the angle of th'- plane.-, AB, MN(Def. 4.) therefore
the two planes are perpendicular to one another, (Def. 5.)

Scholium. When three straight lines, such as PA, PB,
PD are perpendicular to each other, each line is peipen-
dicularto the plane ofthe other two, and the three planes
are perpendicular to one another.

Prop. XIV. Theor.

If a plane AB (Fig. 145.) be perpendicular to a plane
MN, and in the plane AB u Mr ai^-hi line PA be drawn per-
4R 2

6S4

GEO^IETRY.

pendicular to lliuir common intersection PB, the line PA
biiall be perpeiidicular to the plane WN.

In the plane MN, draw PD perpendicular to PB ; then
because the planes are perpendicular to each other, the
an;^lc APD is a vii^^ht angle : therefore AP is perpendicu-
lai' to the lines PB, PD ; consequently it is perpendicular
to their plane.

Cor. If the plane AB be perpendicular to the plane
MN, and throuiih P, any point in their common intersec-
tion, a perpendicular be drawn to the plane MN, this per-
pendicular shall be in the plane AB. For if it is not, a line
AP might be drawn in the ]jlane AB perpendicular to PB,
the common intersection of the planes, which at the same
time would be perpendicular to the plane MN ; thus, from
the same point P, there would be two perpendiculars to a
plane RIN, which is impossible, (2 Cor. 4 )

Prop. XV. Theor.

If two planes AB, AD (Fig. 145.) be perpendicular to a
third MN ; their common intersection AP is perpendicular
to the third plane.

For a peipendicular to the plane MN at P, the point in
which it meets the two planes AB, AD must be in both
these at the same time, therefore it is their common inter-
section AP.

Proi'. XVI. Theor.

If a solid angle be formed by three plane angles, the sum
of any two of them is greater than the third.

It is sufficiently evident that the sum of the greatest of
the three, and either of the other two, is greater than the
remaining angle, and it is only necessary to prove that the
sum of the angles AVC, BVC, neither of which is the
greatest, exceeds the greatest angle AVB.

In the plane AVB, make the ant^le BVD = BVC ; take
any two points A, B, in the lines VA, VB, and draw ADB ;
take VC~:VD, and join AC, BC. And because BV is
common to the triangles, VBD, VBC, and VCizVD, and
the angle BVD = BVC, therefore BD=BC ; now AB, or
AD-f BD, is less than AC + BC, therefore taking away the
common side DB, there remains AD.<^AC. The two tri-
angles AVC, AN'D, have AV common, VCzirVD and the
base AC-:::'AD, therefore (converse of 10. 1. Part I.) the
angle AVC^^AVD, and AVC + CVB-:::^AVD-f DVB,
that is -^^AVB

Prop. XVII. Theor.

The sum of all the plane angles which form any solid
angle is less than four right angles.

Let the solid angle V, (Fig. 14S.) be cut by any plane
ABCDE; from a point O taken in this plane, draw to all
its angles the lines OA, OB, OC, OD, OE. The sum of
the angles of the triangles AVB, BVC, kc. formed about
tlic vertex V, is equivalent to the sum of the angles of a
like number of triangles AOB, BOC, Sec. formed about
the point () ; but at the point B. the angles OBA, OBC
taken together, make the angle ABC less than the sum of
the angles VBA. X'BC (lf>); in like manner at the point
C, we have OC B-fOCD^^VCB-f \'CD, and so on with
all the arjgUs of the polygon .-XBCDE. Hence it follows,
that in the tri uii^les of which the vertex is O, the sum of the
angles atth^; bases is less than the sum of the angles at the
bases of the triangles, which have their vertex at V ; there-
fore, by compensation, the svmi of the angles about the
point (), is greater than the sum of the angles about the
point V ; but the sum of the angles about O is equal to
four right angles ; therefore the sum of the plane angles

which form the solid angle about the point V, is less than
four right angles.

Scholium. This demonstration supposes, that the solid
angle is convex, or that the solid angle lies all on one side
of the plane of any one of its faces ; if it were otherwise,
the sum of the plane angles would not be limited.

Prop. XVIII. Thkor.

If two solid angles be composed of three plane angles
which are equal, each to each, the planes in which these
angles are, have the same inclination to one another.

Let the angle CAD=c a cl, (Figs. 149, 150.) the angle
CABlZc a h, and the angle BAD=d a d ; the two planes
CAB, DAB shall have to each other the same inclination
as the planes c a b,d a b.

Take B any point in AB, and in the planes BAG, BAD,
draw BC and BD perpendiculars to AB, and join CD;
then the angle CBD is the inclination of the planes BAC,
BAD, (Def. 4 ) Again, take a 4~.A.B, and in the planes
b a c, b a d draw b c and b d perpendiculars to a b, and join
c d ; then the angle c b d is the inclination of the planes
b a c, b a d.

The triangles BAC, b a c, have the angle BAC— 4 ac,
the angle CBA=c b a, also the side AB^a b ; therefore
the triangles arc equal, (7. 1. Part I.) and BC=6 c, also
AC— a c. In the same way it may be proved that the tri-
angles BAD, bad are equal, and therefore that R D — b d^
also ADzia d. The triangles C.\D, c a d, have therefore
CA = c a, AU^ia d, and the angle CAD— car/; hence
CD— c d. Now the triangles CBD, c b d having CB^ c b,
DE=d b, and the base CD = c d, the angle CBD will be
equal to the angle c b d ; that is, the inclination of the plane
BAC to the plane BAD, is equal to the inclination of the
plane 6 a c to the plane bad. In the same way it may be
proved, that the other planes are equally inclined to one
another.

Scholium. If the three plane angles which contain the
solid angles, besides being equal each to each, aie also dis-
posed in the same order as in Fig. 149, the solid angles will
coincide when applied the one to the other, and they will
be equal. But if the plane angles are dis/iosed in a contrary
order, as in Fig. 150, the solid angles will not coincide, al-
though the theorem is alike true in both cases. However,
in the latter case as well as in the former, the solid angles
must be accounted equal, seeing that they are equal in
every thing that determines their magnitude. This kind
of equality, which does not admit of superposition, and on
that account is not absolute, may be distinguished from the
other, by calling it erjiiality by reason of symmetry ; and
two solid angles, which are contained by three plane angles,
having the same m.agnitude in eacii, but placed in a con-
trary order, may be called symmetrical angles. What is
here said, will apply to solid angles contained by any num-
ber of plane angles.

SECTION II.

Of Solids bounded ey Planes.

Definitions.

1. A solid is that which has length, breadth, and thick-
ness.

2. A firism is a solid contained by plane figures, of which
two tnat are opposite are equal, similar, and parallel to one
another, and the others are parallelograms.

To construct this solid, let ABCDE be any rectilineal
figure, (Fig. 151.) In a plane parallel to ABC draw the

(iK031ETl{Y.

685

fines FG, GH, HI, 5co. parallel to the sidas AB, BC, CD,
&c. tlius there will be formed a figure FCiHIK, similar to
ABCDE. Now let the vcitices of the corresponding; an-
gles be joined by the lines A.F, BG, CM, Sec. the faces
ABGF, BCHG, &C. will evidently be parallelograms, and
the solid thus formed will be a pi ism.

3. The equal and parallel jilanc figures ABCDE,
FGHIK, are called the bases of the prism. The other
planes or parallelograms, taken together, constitute the la-
teral or convex surface of the prism.

4. The altitude of a prism is the distance between its
bases ; and its length is a line equal to any one of its lateral
edges, as AF, or BG, Sec.

5. A prism is right, when the lateral edges AF, BG, Sec.
are perpendicular to the planes of its bases ; then each of
them is equal to the altitude of the prism ; in eveiy other
case the prism is oblique.

6. A prisn\ is triangular, quadrangular, fientagonal, &c.
according as the base is a triangle, a quadrilateral, a penta-
gon, &c.

7. A prism which has a parallelogram for its base, has
all its faces parallelograms, and is called a jiarallelofiijied,
(Fig. 152.) A parallelepiped is rectangular, when all its
faces are rectangles.

8. When the faces of a rectangular parallelopiped are
squares, it is called a cube.

9. A pyramid is a solid formed by several triangular
planes, which meet in a point V, (Fig. 148.) and termi-
nate in the same plane rectilineal figure ABCDE.

The plane figure ABCDE is called the base of the pyra-
mid ; the point V is its vertex; and the triangles AVB,
BVC, Sec. taken together, form the convex: or lateral sur-
face of the pyramid.

10. The altitude of a pyramid, is the perpendicular
drawn from its vertex to the plane of its base, produced if
necessary.

11. A pyramid is triangular, quadrangular, Sec. accord-
ing as its base is a triangle, a quadrilateral, Sec.

12. A pyramid is regular, when its base is a regular fi-
gure, and the perpendicular from its vertex passes through
the centre of its base; that is, through the centre of a cir-
cle that may be described about its base.

13. Two solids are similar, when they are contained by
the same number of similar planes, similarly situated, and
having like inclinations to one another.

Prop. I. Theor.

Two prisms are equal, when three planes, which con-
tain a solid angle of the one, are equal to three planes
which contain a solid angle of the other, each to each, and
are similarly situated.

Let the base ABCDE, (Fig. 151.) be equal to the base
ab c d e; the parallelogram ABGF equal to the parallelo-
gram ab ^/, and the parallelogram BCHG equal to the
parallelogram b c h g ; then shall the prism ABCDE-FG
HIK be equal to the prism a h c d c -fgh i k.

For if the base ABCDE be placed upon its equal
a b c d e, they will entirely coincide; and because the three
plane angles which form the solid angle B are equal to the
three plane angles which form the solid angle b, each to
each, namely, ABC^ra b c, ABG:z:a b g, and GBC:^,§- b c,
and besides, these angles are similarly situated ; the so-
lid angles F> and b shall be equal (18. 1.), and consequently
the side BG will fall on b g. Also, because of the equal
parallelogranis ABGF, a b g f, the side GF will fall on its
equal g-/, and similarly, GH on g /t : Therefore the upper
base FGHIK will coincide entirely with its equal / gh i k,
and the two solids will coincide entirely, and be ctiual to
one another.

Cor. Two right prisms which have equal bases and
equal altitudes are equal to one another.

If the ct|ual angles of the lower bases follow each other
in the same oi'der, then the three [)lanes which contain each
solid angle of llic one prism will be respectively equal to
three planes which contain a coMes|)onding solid angle of
the other, and will be similarly situated ; and when the one
solid angle is applied to the other, these planes will coin-
cide, and the prisms will exactly coincide. If the equal
angles of the lower bases follow each other in a contrary
order, then, by inverting one of the prisms, so that its upper
may become its lower base, the angles of the two bases
will then be placed in the same order, so that in either case
the prisms coincide, and are equal.

Prop. II. Theok.

In every parallelopiped, the opposite planes are equal
and parallel.

From the definition of this solid, the bases A BCD,
EFGH, (Fig. 152.) are equal parallelograms; and their
sides are parallel : it remains therefore to demonstrate that
the same is true for two opposite lateral faces, such as
AEHD, BFGC. Because the figure ABCD is a parallel-
ogram, AD is equal and parallel to BC ; and for a like
reason AE is equal and parallel to BF ; therefore the an-
gle DAE is equal to the angle CBF (10. 1.) and the plane
DAE is parallel to the plane CBF ; therefore also the pa-
rallelogram DAEH is equal to the parallelogram CBFG.
In like manner, it may be demonstrated that the opposite
parallelograms ABFE, DCGH are equal and parallel.

CoR. Any two opposite faces of a parallelopiped may
be taken for its bases.

Prop. III. Lemma.

In every prism ABCDE-FGHIK, (Fig. 153.) the sec-
tions NOPQR, STVXY made by parallel planes are equal
polygons.

For the sides NO, ST are parallel, (7. 1.) because the
two parallel planes are cut by a third plane ABGF ; these
same sides NO, ST are comprehended between the paral-
lels NS, OT, which are sides of the prism ; therefore NO
^ST ; for a like reason the sides OP, PQ, QR, Sec. of the
section NOPQR are respectively equal to the sides TV",
VX, XY, Sec. of the section STVXY: Besides, these equal
sides being at the same time parallel, it follows that the an-
gles NOP, OPQ, Sec. of the first section, are respectively
equal to the angles STV, TVX, Sec. of the second section.
Therefore the two sections NOPQR, STVXY are equal
polygons.

Cor. Every section of an upright prism by a plane pa-
rallel to the base is equal to that base.

Prop. IV. Theor.

If a parallelopiped AG, (Fig. 154.) be cut by a plane
passing through BD, FH, the diagonals of two of the op-
posite planes, it will he cut into two equivalent prisms,
BAD-EFH, BCD FGH.

Through B and F, the extremities of one of the sides,
draw the planes B a rf r, F e h g perpendicular to BF to
meet the three other sides of the solid in a, d, c, and in
f, /i,g; these sections are equal (3.), because the planes
are p-jr;.endicular to FB, and therefore parallel. They are
also parallelograms (7. 1.), because the opposite sides of
the same section, a B, d, c are the intersections of two pa
ralltljilanes ABFE, DCGH, by the same plane.

For a like reason, the figure B a e F is a parallelogram,
as also the other lateral faces BF g c, c d /i g, a d h e, of the
solid Bad c-l' e h g ; therefore this solid is a prism (Dcf.

686

GEOMimiY.

2.), aiHl il is a right iMlsiii, because BF is perpendicular to
the iilaiic of its base.

This' bcinR premised, and it bcinp; observed that the
rislu piism 15 /; is divided into two riglit triangular priiiiis
n U d-e V h c, 15 rl-ff 1" ''^ we shall now demonstrate that the
oblique triangular i)rism ABD-KFH is equal to the right
triangular pr'ism c RdeV/i: In fact, these two prisms liave
a common part AUU-c I- /;, ihtrelbrc it is only necessary
to prove that the rcnraindcrs, viz. the solids B a A D </, F e
KH /i arc equivalent to each other.

Because BAKl", B a c F, are parallelograms, we have
AFrrBF— a (■•, therefore Aa^Ec : In like manner, it may
Lc proved that D rfr^ll /i : Conceive now that F c h, the
base of the solid F e FIl /;, is placed on a B (/, the base of
the solid B a AD d ; then the |)oint c falling on c, and /; on
(/ ; the lines c E, /; H will coincide with their equals a A,
i/ D, because they arc perpendiculars to the same plane :
Therefore the two solids in c|ueslion will coincide entirely,
liie one with the other, and hence it follows that the oblique
prism BAD-FEII is e(iuivalent to the right prism B a d-
F e h.

In the same manner it may be demonstrated, that the ob-
ll(iue prism BCD-FGH is equal to the right prism B r J-
F g h ; but the two light prisms are equal (Cor. 1.), since
they have the same altitude, ar.d their bases are equal,
they being halves of the same parallelogram, therefore the
two triangular prisms BAD-FEH, BC;DF(iII which are
equivalent to these are equivalent to each other.

CoR. Every triangular piism AliD-EFII is half a pa-
rallelopiped AG, having the same solid angle A, with the
same edges AB, AD, AE.

Scholium. Although the triangular prisms into which
the oblique parallelopiped is divided, are contained by
equal planes, and Jiave their solid angles equal, yet they
cannot be made to coincide. The reason is, that the plane
angles about the corresponding solid angles in the two
prisms arc not placed in tlie same order. These solid an-
gles are therefore sijinmctrical, and cannot be brought to co-
incide. (18. 1 ) Two prisms, or two solids of any kind so
constituted, are called symmetrical solids. An exact no-
tion of Ihcir relation to each other may be acquired by con-
sidering th.at any object and its image reflected from a
mirror are syiiiinctrica! figures. They resemble each other
exactly, but every part is placed in a reverse order; thus
the reflected image of a right hand is a left hand.

In symmetrical solids, every circumstance upon which
the magnitude of cither depends, is the very same in both,
hence their eqxdvalcncc might even be assumed as an ax-
iom in solid geometry.

Prop. V. Theok.

If two parallelopipeds, AG, AL, (Fig. 155.) have a
common base ABCD, and their upper bases EFGH,
IKLM in the s!\me plane, and between the same parallels
■EK, HL; these two parallelopipeds are equivalent to each
other.

There may be three cases, according as EI is greater or
less th.in EF, or equal to it, but the demonstration is the
.same for lliera all. In the first place, the triangular prism
AEI DIIM is equal to the triangular prism BFK-CGL ;
for since ,\F, is pariDllel to BF, and EH to FG, the angle
AEIZZBFK, ann HEl— GFK-. and HEA=:GFi5; of these
sis angles, the ti.rec first form the solid angle E, and the
ihrcc ethers form the soli':! angle F; therefore, since tiio
plane angles arc equal, each to each, and similarly situated,
the solid angles E and F aie equal : and if the prism
AEI-DHM lie placed on the prism BFK-CGL, so that tlie
base AEI may be on the base BFK, these being manifestly
equal, they will coincide; and since the solid angle at E

is equal fo the solid angle at F, the side EH will fall on its
equal 1 (., and coincide with it ; lluis the plants which form
the solid :.nglcs F- and F will coincide, and tlie prisms will
be equ;'l (J ) : Ni»w if fiom the whole solid contained be-
tween the trapezoids AEIs.15, UlIEC, there be taken the
juism AI'.IDHM, there will remain the parallelupipej
AIL, and it from the same solid there be taken the prism
BFK-CGL, there will rcnuun the parallelopiped Ai^G ;
thcreloic the two parallelopipeds AIL, AEG are ccjuiva-
lent to one another.

Prop. VI. Theor.
Two parallelopipeds of the same base and the same al-
titude are equivalent to one another.

Let ABCD, ( Fig. 156.) bathe common base of the two
parallclopi|)cds AG, AL ; since they have the same alti-
tude, their upper bases EFGH, IKLM will be in the same
plane ; also the sides EF, AB :re equal and parallel, and
the same is also true of IK and AB ; therefore EF is equal
and p.;raliei to IK ; for a like reason GF is equal and pa-
rallel to LK. Let the sidfs EF and HG be produced, as
also tlie sides LK and IM, so as to form by their intersec-
tion the parallelogram NOPQ ; it is evident that this ^)a-
rallclogiam is etjual to each of the bases EFGH, IKLM.
Now, if we suppose that there is a third parallelopiped,
which, with the sanie lower base as the other two, has for
its upper base NOPQ, this third parallelopiped will be
cquiv.dciit to the p-.iallelopiped AG, (5.) and for a like rea-
son it will be equivalent to the parallelopiped AL; therefore
the two parallelopipeds AG, AL, which have the same
base, and the same altitude, are equivalent to one another.

Prop. VII. Theor.

Every parallelopiped is equivalent to a rectangular pa-
rallelopiped which has the same altitude and an equivalent
base.

Let AG, (Fig. 156.) be the proposed parallelopiped;
from the points A, 15, C, D, draw AI, BK, CL, DM, per-
pendicular to the plane ABCD, and terminating in the
plane of the upper base, and join IK, KL, LM, MI ; thus
there v> ill be formed a parallelopiped AL equivalent to the
parallelopiped AG, and of which the lateral faces AK,
DL are rectangles. If the base ABCD is also a rectangle,
AL will be a rectangular parallelopiped equivalent to the
proposed parallelopiped AG ; hut if it is not, (Fig. 157.)
draw AO and B>^ perpendicular to CD, and OQ and NP
perpendiculars to the upper base, thus there will be foiraed
a solid ABNO-IKPQ, which will be a rectangular paralel-
opiped. For by coi.btruction, the b.Tse ABNO, and its op-
posite IKPQ, are rectangles, as also the lateral faces, be-
cause the edges Al, OQ are perpendicular to the plane of
the base; therefore the solid AP is a rectangular parallel-
opiped. But the two i>arallciopipeds AP, AL may be con-
sidered as having the same base ABKI, and the same alti-
tude AO ; therefore they are equivalent ; wherefore the
paraUc-lopiped AG, which was first transformed to the
equival^t solid AL (Fig. 156.) is now reduced to the equi-
va ent rectangular parallelopiped AP (Fig loT") which
has the same height A I, and the base A(3NB equivalent to
the base ABCD.

Prop. XIII. Theor.

Two rectangular paralleIopii).;ds .\G, AL, (Fig. '158.)
which have the same base ABCD, are to one another as
their altitudes AP2, AI.

Let us suppose that AE contains some part of AI a
ccitain number of times e.xactly, for ex 'mple, let it con-
tain the third part of AI five times, a' d let llcse equal
parts be A /., fx q-iq I, I r, r F: Let planes be supposed to

GEOiMETUY.

687

pass througli /;, 7, r parallel to the coinmon base, these will
divide the solid AG into five. parai).:lo()i;jc"ds, vliicli will
be equal, because they have equal bases ((i ) rind eipial al-
titudes, and the solid AL will contain three of these ])aral-
lelopipcds; thus the parallclopiped A(i wdl contain apart
of the parailciopiped AL exactly as often as the altitude
AE of the former contains a like part of the ahituile AI
cf the latter, therefore the solids Atl, AL have to each
other the same ratio as their altitudes AE, AL

When the altitudes are incommensurable, it may still
be inferred that the ratio of the solids is the same as that
of their al'itudes, for the reasons assigned in the conclusion
of Sect. II L Paht I.

Prop. IX. Theor.

Two rectangular parallelepipeds AG, AK which hava
the same altitude, are to one another as their bases.

Suppose the solids placed side by side, as in the Fipjure ;
(Fig. 159.) Produce the plane ONKL, until it meet the
plane DCGH in the line PQ ; thus tiiere will be formed a
third parallclopiped AQ, which may be compared with the
other two. The two solids AG, AQ, having the same base
AEHD, are to each other as their altitudes AB, AO (8.)
In like manner the two solids AQ, AK, having the saine
base AOLE, are to one another as their altitudes AD, AM :
But the rectangles AC, AP, having the same breadth, are
also to each other as AB to AO, (3. 4. Part I.) and simi-
larly the rectangles AP, AN are to each other as AD to
AM ; therefore

sol. AG : sol. AQ : : ba.'ie AC : base AP,
sol. AQ : sol. AK : : base AP : base AN ;
therefore, er aequo,

sol. AG : sol. AK : : base AC : base AN.

Prop. X. Theor.

Any two rectangular parallelopipeds are to each other
as the products of numbers proportional to their bases and
altitudes ; or as the products of the numbers which express
their three dim-ensions.

Let the two rectangular parallelopipeds AG, AZ,(Fig.
159.) be so placed, that their surfaces may have a common
angle BAE; and let their bounding planes be produced, so
as to form a third parallelepiped AK, having the same alti-
tude as the solid AG. By the last proposition,

sol: AG : sol. AK : : base AC : base AN ;
and by Prop. 8,

so/. AK : sol. AZ : : AE-: AX.

Now, if we consider the bases AC, AN as measured by
numbers, and also their altitudes AE, AX, we shall have
by P'op. 1. Sect. 3. Part 1,

base AC : base AN : : AE x base AC : AE x base AN,
and AE : AX : : AE X base AN : AX x base AN ;
theiefore,

sol. AG : sol. AK : : AE x base AC : AE x base AN,
sol. AK : sol. AZ : : AE x base AN : AX x base AN.

Fro .. these two proportions we have, ea- ar/iio,
sol. AG : sol. AZ : : AE x base AC : AX x base AN.

By substituting in this proportion instead of the bases
AC, AN, their numerical values AD x AB and AM x
AO. we have also
*o^ AG : sol. AZ : : AD x AB x AE : AM x AO x AX.

Scholium. Hence it appears that the product of the
numbers which express the base of a rectangular parallel-
epiped, and its altitude, or the product of the numbers
•which express its three dimensions, may be taken as its
■numerical measure : For, if the length of the solid be equal
to five times a certain line, which is considered as an unit,
its breadth three times that unit, and its height seven times
the same unit ; then the parallclopiped will be to a cube,

whoso side or edge is that unit, as5X3x7tolxlX 1,
that is as 5 X 3 x7 to 1 : Hence the parallclopiped will be
equivalent to 5 X 3 X 7= 105 times a cube whose side is
unity.

The magnitude of a solid, its bulk, or its extension, con-
stitutes what is called its sotidily or its \content. Thus-
we say that the solidity or content of a rectangular paral-
lclopiped, is equal to the product of its base by its altitude ;
or to the product of its three dimensions.

Prop. XI. Theor.

The solidity of a parallclopiped, and, in general, the so-
lidity of any prism, is equal to the product of its base by
its altitude.

1. For any parallelepiped whatever is equivalent to a
rectangular parallclopiped ol the same altitude, and an
equivalent base (7.) ; and the solidity of this last has been
proved to be equal to the product of its base by its alti-
tude ; therefore the solidity of the other is also the pro-
duct of its base by its altitude.

2. Every triangular prism is half a parallclopiped, which
has the same altitude, and a base twice that of the prism ;
but the solidity of this last is equal to the product of its
base by its altitude ; therefore the solidity of the prism is
the product of its base (half that of the parallclopiped) by
its altitude.

3. Any prism whatever may be divided into as many
triangular prisms of the same altitude, as there can be tri-
angles in the polygon which forms its base : now the soli,
dity of each prism is the product of its base by its altitude,
which is common to them all ; therefore the sum of their
solidities is equal to the sum of their bases multiplied by
the common altitude ; that is, the solidity of the whole
prism is equal to the product of its base by its altitude.

Cor. Two prisms, which have the same base, are to each
other as their altitudes; and two prisms, which have the
same altitude, are to each other as their bases. Let B and
A be the base and altitude of a prism P, and b and a the
base and altitude of another prism fi ; then since P^Bx A,
and fiz^bxa, we have P : /j : : Bx A: fixa, therefore if A —
a, then P : fi : : B : b ; and if Bzizb, then P : fi : : A : a.

A^ote. The cube of a line AB is sometimes expressed
thus, ABx ABxAB, but more commonly thus, (AB)^, or
thus, AB^

Prop. XII. Theor,

Similar prisms are to one another as the cube of their
homologous sides.

Let P and fi, (Fig- 100.) be two prisms, of which BC,
b f are l;he homologous sides; the prism P is to the prism
fi as the cube of BC to the cube of b c. From A and a,
homologous angles of the two prisms, diaw AH, a/; per-
pendicular to their bases, BCD, bed. Join BH, take Ba
ZZb a, and in the plane BHA draw a h perpendicular to
BH ; then a h shall be perpendicular to the plane CBD
(13. and 14. 1.) and equal toa/j, the altitude of the other
prism ; for if the solid angles B and b were applied the
one to the other, the planes which contain them, and con-
sequently the perpendiculars a h, a /;, would coincide,
(Schol. 13. 1.)

Now, because of the similar triangles ABH, a b h, and
the similar figures AC, a r, we have

An : a h : : AM : a b :: BC : b c ;
and because of tlie similar bases,

base BCD : base bed:: BC= : b c^ (25. 4. Part I.)

From these two proportions, by considering all the quarN
titles as represented by numbers, we get, (by Prop*. \,
Sect. 3. Part 1.)

hn-Kbase BCD t a It X base BCD nBCl -.dcxBC^,

G38

GE03IET11Y.

ahxhasf ]K',D : a hychasc bed :: i r xBC^ : b c^ ;
thcrel'orc, c.v ivrjiiali,

Alixbasc BCD : a /iXbcise b c t! : : liC^ : b c\
But KWxbase BCD expresses the solidity of the prism
P; and a lixbasc bed expresses the solidity ol" the other
prism /;, therefore,

firism P : Jiriam /i : : UC : b c .

Cou. Similar prisms are to one another in the tripli-
cate ratio of iheir homoloROUs sides. For let Y and Z be
two lines, such, that BC : 6 c : : i c : Y, and 6 c : Y : : Y :
Z ; then the ratio of BC to Z is triplicate of the ratio of
BC to A c ( 1 3. Def. Sect. 3. Part 1 ) But since BC : be::
be :Y, therefore BC^ : b e^ :: b e^ : Y% (23. 4. Part 1.) '
and, multiplying the antecedents by BC, and the conse-
quents by /; c,BC^ : 6c3 :: BCxAc' : 6 cxY^ : : BCxic:
Y'; but Y^r:icxZ (22. 4. Part. 1.); therefore BC^ :
Ac':: BCxA c : b exZ : : BC : Z. But BC^ : 6 r' : :
firism P : firism fi, therefore the prisms have to each other
the ratio of BC to Z, that is, the triplicate ratio of BC
to b c.

Prop. XIII. Theou.

If a triangular pyramid A-BCD be cut by a plane par-
rallel to its base, the section FGH is similar to the base.

For because the parallel planes BCD, FGH (Fig. 161.)
are cut by a third plane ABC, the sections FG, BC are
parallel (7. I.) In like manner it appears that FH is paral-
lel to BD ; therefore the angle IIFG is equal to the angle
DBC (10. 1.) And because the triangle ABC is similar
to the triangle AFG, and the triangle ABD is similar to
the triangle AFH, we have

BC : BA : : FG : FA,
and BA : BD : : FA : FH.
Therefore, ex aquali, BC : BD : : FG : FH ; now the
angle DBC has been shewn to be equal to the angle HFG ;
therefore the triangles DBC, HFG are equiangular (20. 4.
Part I.)

Prop. XIV. Theor.

If two triangular pyramids ABCD, (Fig. 161.) a-bc d,
which have equivalent bases, and equal altitudes, be cut
by planes that are parallel to the bases, and at equal dis-
tances from them ; the sections FGH/g h will be equal.

Draw AKE, a k e perpendicular to the bases BCD, bed,
meeting the cutting planes in K and k ; then because of
the parallel planes, we have AE : AK : : AB : AF, and
a e : a k : : ab : a/ {\2. I.) ; but, by hypothesis, AEiZa e,
and AK^a X- ; therefore, AB : AF :: a b : af\ again, be-
cause of similar triangles, AB : AF : : BC : FG, and a b :
af :: b c :fg : therefore, BC : FG :: b c :fg ; and hence
BC2 : FG^ :: b c^ :fg- (23.4. Part I.) but because of the
similar triangles BDC, FHG, BC= : FG^ : : Man. BDC :
trian. FHG, and in like manner b c' :fg^ : : trian. bed:
trian.fgh (25. 4. Part. 1.) therefore

trian. BCD : trian. FGH : : trian. bed : trian. fg It.
JMow trian. BCD— /na;;. bed (by hypothesis) therefore the
triangle FHG is equal to the triangle//; 5-.

Scholium. It is easy to see, that what is proved in this
and tlie preceding Proposition is albo true of polygonal
pyramids.

Prop. XV. Thkou.

A series of prisms of the same altitude may be inscrib-
ed in a pyramid, and another series may lie circumscribed
about it, which shall exceed the other by less than any
given solid.

Let A-BCD (Fig. 162.) be a pyramid, and let AC, one
of its lateral edges, be divided into some number of equal
parts, at the points F, G, II ; through these, let planes pass

parallel to the base BCD, making with the sides of llie
])yianii<l the sections QPF, SRG, UTH ; which will be
similar to one another and to the l)ase (13.) From B, in
the plane of the triangle ABC, draw BK parallel to CF,
meeting Fl' produced \\\ K ; in like manner, from D draw
DE ))ai-<illet to CF, meeting FQ produced in L ; join KI,,
and ihe solid CBD-FKE will evidently be a prism. By
the same construction, let the prisms PM, RO, TV be
described: Also let the straight line IP, wliich is in the
plane of the triangle ABC, be produced till it meet BC in
/;, and let MQ be produced till it meet DC in g ; join h g,
then C hg-WQ^ will be a prism, and be equal to the prism
PM. In the same manner is described the prism m S
equal to the prism RO, and the prism 7 U equal to the
prism TV. Therefore the sum of all the inscribed prisms
h Q, m S, and 7 U is equal to the sum of the prisms PM,
RO, and TV ; that is, to the sum of all the circumscribed
prisms, except the prism BL ; wherefore BE is the ex-
cess of the prisms circumscribed about the pyramid above
the prisms inscribed within it.

Let us now suppose that Z denotes some given solid
equal to a prism, which has the same base CBD as the
pyramid, and its altitude equal to a perpendicular from E
(a point in AC) upon the base. Then, however near E
may be to C, it will evidently be possible to divide AC into
such a number of equal parts, that one of them, CF, shall
be less than CE ; and this being the case, the prism BE
will evidently be less than the prism whose base is the
triangle CBD, and altitude a perpendicular from E on the
base BCD; that is, less than the given solid Z : There-
fore the excess of the circumscribed above the inscribed
prisms may be less than the solid Z.

CoR. Since the difference between the circumscribed
and inscribed prisms may be less than any given magni-
tude, and the pyramid is greater than the latter, and less
than the former, it follows that a series of prisms may be
circumscribed about the pyramid, and also a seiies of
prisms may be inscribed in it, which shall differ from the
pyramid itself by less than any given solid.

Prop. XVL Theor.

Pyramids that have equal bases and altitudes, are equal
to one another.

Let A-BCD, (Fig. 163.) a-bedhe two pyramids that
have equal bases BCD, bed, and equal altitudes ; viz. the
perpendiculars drawn from the vertices A and a upon the
planes BCD, b e d, the pyramid A-BCD is equal to the
pyramid a-b c d.

For if they are not equal, let Z represent the solid which
is equal to the excess of one of them, a-b e d, above the
other A-BCD ; and let a series of prisms CE, FG, HK,
LM, of the same altitude be circumscribed about the py-
ramid A-BCD, so as to exceed it by a solid less than Z,
which is always possible (15.); also let a series of prisms
c e,fg, h k, Im, equal in number to the other, and of the
same altitude, be circumscribed about the pyramid abed.
And because the jjyraniids have equal altitudes, and the
number of prisms described about each is the same, the
altitudes of the piisms will be all equal, and the bases of
the corresponding prisms in the two pyramids, as EF, ef,
will be sections of the pyramids at equal distances from
their bases, thcrefure they are equal (14.), and the prisms
themselves are equal (1.), and the sum of all the pris-.ns
described about the one pyramid is equal to the sum of
all the ])risms described about the other pyian.id. To
abridge, put P and /i to denote the pyramids A-BCD, and
ab c d respectively, and Q and cj to express the sums of
the prisms described about them. Then, because by hy-
pothesis Zzz/i — P, and by construction Z-p^Q — P, there-

GEOMETRY.

689

fore /J — P'::^Q — P, hence /i must be greater than Q; but
Q is equal to c/, thercfoic /; must be grcr.ter than y, that
is the pyramul /; is greater than y, the sum of the prisms
described about it, wliich is impossible; therefore the py-
ramids P, /; are not unequal, tbat is they arc etjual.

Prop. XVII. Theou.

Every prism having a triangular base, may be divided
into tliree pyramids that have triangular bases, and that are
equal to one another.

Let ABC, DEF (I'ig. 164.) be the opposite bases of a
triangular prism; join AE, EC, CD ; and because AE is
the diagonal of a parallelogram, the triangles ABE, ADE
are equal; therefore the pyramids C-ABE and C-ADE,
which have a common vertex C, and the triangles ABE,
ADE for their bases, will be equal (16.) When these
are taken from the whole prism, there remains the py-
lamid C-DEF, which is equal to the pyramid C-ABE, or
EABC, for they have equal bases DEF, ABC, and the
same altitude, viz. the altitude of the prism ABC- DEF.
Therefore the three pyramids C-ABE, C-ADE, and
C-DEF, are equal.

CoR. 1. From this it appears, that every pyramid is the
third part of a prism, which has the same base and the
same altitude with it. For if the base of the prism be any
other figure than a triangle, it may be divided into prisms
having triangular bases.

Cor. 2. Pyramids of equal altitudes are to one another
as their bases ; because the prisms upon the same bases,
and of the same altitude, are to one another as their bases.

Prop. XVIII. Tiif.or.

Similar pyramids are to one another as the cubes of their
homologous sides.

If two pyramids be similar, it is evident from Def. 13.
that the lesser may be placed in the greater, so that they
shall have a common solid angle A ; (Fig. 161.) and then
their bases BCD, FGH will be parallel ; for since the
homologous faces are similar, the angle AFG~ABC, and
the angle AGHzzACD, and so on; therefore the plane
FGH is parallel to the plane BCD : Hence, again, it will
follow, that a straight line AKE perpendicular to the base
of the one, will also be perpendicular to the base of the
other, and AE, AK, the altitudes of the two pyramids, will
have to each other the ratio of AB to AF, or of BC to EG,
Sec. Now, let P represent a right prism, having the same
base BCD as the pyramid A-BCD, and the same altitude
AE, and similarly Ictfi represent another right prism, hav-
ing the same base I'GH as the pyramid A-FGH, and the
same altitude AK : Then these prisms will manifestly be
contained by the same number of similar planes, similarly
situated, and having a like inclination to each other, there-
fore they will be similar (Def 13.) and consequently P is
to /i as the cube of BC to the cube of FG (12.), but the
pyramids A-BCD, A-FGH are like parts of the prisms
(1 Cor. 17.) ; therefore the pyramids are also to one another
as the cubes of their homologous sides BC, FG.

SECT. III.

Of the Three Round Solids.

De/initio7is,

1. A cylinder is a solid figure, generated by the revolu-
tion of a right-angled paiallelogram, which revolves about
one of its sides, that side remaining fixed, (Fig. 165.)

2. The axis of a cylinder is the straight line about which
the parallelogram revolves.

3. The bases of a cylinder are the circles described by
the two revolving opposite sides of the rectangle.

4. A cone is a solid figure generated by the revolution of
a right-angled triangle about one of the sides containing
the right angle, which remains fixed.

Vol. IX. Part II.

5. The axis of the cone is the straight line about which
the triangle revolves.

6. The base of the cone is the straight line generated by
that side containing the right angle which revolves.

7. A s/iherc is the solid figure generated by the revo-
lution of a semicircle about a diameter, which remains
fixed.

8. The axis of a sphere is the straight line about which
the semicircle revolves.

9. The centre of the sphere is the same with that of the
semicircle.

10. Similar cones and cylinders are those which have
the diameters of their bases and their axes propor-
tionals.

Prop. I. Theorem.

If from any point E in the circumference of AEB, (Fig.
165.) the base of a cylinder, a straight line EF be drawn
perpendicular to the plane of the base, it will be wholly in
the cylindric superficies.

Let AGHD be the generating rectangle, and GH the
axis Because, in every position of the revolving rectangle,
the angle AGH is a right angle, GH is perpendicular to
the plane of the base AEB ; therefore, AD, the line which
generates the cylindric superficies, is in every position per-
pendicular to the plane of the base (5. 1.), and consequently,
when the revolving radius GA comes to the position GE,
AD will coincide with EF ; therefore EF is in the cylin-
dric superficies.

Prop. II. Theor.

A cylinder and a parallelepiped having equal bases and
altitudes, arc equal to one another.

If the cylinder ABC D (Fig. 166.) and parallelopiped EF,
which have equal bases, (viz. the circle AGB and parallelo-
gram EH), and the same altitude, be not equal, let us sup-
pose that they are unequal, and first let the cylinder be less
than the parallelopiped. From EF, let a parallelopiped
EQ, equal to the cylinder, be cut offby a plane PQ parallel
to NF. Let a polygon AGKBLM be inscribed in the circle
AGB, so as to differ from it by a less space than the paral-
lelogram PH (6. 5. Part I.) and let the parallelogram RO
be equal to the polygon AGKBLM ; the point R will mani-
festly fall between P and N. Now, if an upright prism,
having the same altitude as the cylinder, be formed on the
polygon AGKBLM as a base, and a solid ES be cut oft'
from the parallelopiped EF by a plane RS parallel to NF ;
the prism and solid ES will be equal (11. 2.) But the prism
being entirely contained within the cylinder, is less than it ;
therefore the prism is also less than the solid EQ ; and
consequently the solid ES is equal to a solid which is less
than EQ ; now this is impossible ; therefore the cylinder is
not less than the parallelopiped EF. In the same way it
may be shewn not to be greater, therefore the cylinder and
parallelopiped, having equal bases and altitudes, arc equal
or equivalent to one another.

Pkop. III. Theop,.

If a cone and cyJinder have the same base and altitude,
the cone is the third part of the cylinder.

If a cone A-BCD (Fig. 167.) be not the third part of a
cylinder DFKG, having the same base and altitude, it will
be the third part of a cylinder LMNO, having the same al-
titude as the other, but a base either less or greater; and
first, let tlie base LIM be less than the base BCD ; then,
because the circle LIM is less than the circle BCD, a poly-
gon BECFD may be described in the latter, which shall
differ from it by less than its excess above the circle LIM
(5. 5. Part I.) ; Vvrherefore this polygon will be greater than
the circle LIM. Let an upright prism and pyramid be con-
stituted on the polygon BECFD as abase, and havintjthe
same altitude as the cylinders; andbecausc the cone A-BCD
4 S

690

GEOMETRY.

is the third part of the cylinder lAlNO, and this cylinder
is less than the prism BCD-GIIK, l)ecanse it has a less
base and the same altitude, therefore the cone A-BCD is
less than the third part of the Prism BCD-GHK ; but the
pyramid A-BECFD is the third pan of the prism (17. 2.);
therefore the cone A-BCD is less than the pyramid A-BCD:
Now this is impossible ; because the pyramid being con-
tained entirely within the cone, the cone must be greater
than the pyramid. Therefore the cone A-BCD is not less
than the third part of the cylinder BI'KG. In the same
manner, by circumscribing a polygon about the base of the
cylinder, it may be shewn that the cone is not greater than
the third part of the cylinder ; therefore it is equal to the
third part of the cylinder.

Puop. IV. Lemma.
Let ABDC be a plane figure, (Fig. 168.) bounded by a
straight line CD, a line of any kind AB, which is terminat-
ed by perpendiculars at the extremities of CD, and by
these perpendiculars AC, BD. Let AB Aa be a solid generat-
ed by the revolution of this figure about CD as an axis ; a
series of cylinders maybe described about the solid, and ano-
ther series may be inscribed in it, having all the same alti-
tude, and such that the sum of the circumscribed cylinders
shall exceed the sum of the inscribed cylinders by less
than any given solid S.

Let the solid S be a cylinder, having B b for the diame-
ter of its base, and DP for its height. Suppose the fixed
axis CD to be divided into a number of equal parts DK,
KG, GE, EC, each less than DP. In the plane of the
figure ABDC, draw perpendiculars EF, GH, KL to meet
the line AB in F, H, L. Construct the inscribed rectan-
gles AE, FG, HK, LD, also the circumscribed rectangles
CF, EH, GL, KB. By the rotation of the plane figure
about the axis CD, these rectangles will evidently gene-
rate a series of cylinders inscribed in the solid, and another
series described about it. Let the circumscribed cylinders,
reckoned from the bottom of the solid to the top, be de-
noted by V, X, Y, Z, and the inscribed cylinders by v, jc, ij,
z, then the sums of the circumscribed and inscribed cylin-
ders will be

V+X+Y+Z,
and 1,^ jc+y + z.

Now by the nature of the figure, each circumscribed cylin-
der is equal to tlie inscribed cylinder next below it ; tiiere-
fore X=v, Y— r, and Z=y, and hence the excess of the
sum of all the circumsciibed above the inscribed cylinders
will be the same as the excess of the greatest circumscribed
above the least inscribed cylinder-: that is, it will be equal
to V — z, and consequently will be less than V ; but the
lowest circumscribed cylinder V is less than the solid S,
because it has the same base, (viz. the circle havin.o- for its
diameter B b), and a less altiuide KD, by constr^uction ;
tliL:rcfore the excess of the series of circumscribed above
tlie series of inscribed cylinders is less than the given solid S.

Cou. The diderence between the solid AB b a and either
of the two series of cylinders will be less than the greatest
circumscribed cylinder: For the solid AB 6 a is'gieater
than the one series of cylinders and less than the other,
f.ei-efore it will differ from either series by a quantity less
than the diffLrcnci; between the two.

Pnop. V. Theor.

Ifa cone and hemisphere have equal bases and altitudes,
and if a series of cylinders be described about the cone, and
anotner series be inscribed in the hemisphere, and the cy-
linders have ail tlie same altitude, the sum of the two sefies
xvill be equal to a cylinder having the same base and alti-
tude as tl'.e hemisphere.

Let AFB jMg. 169 ) be a semicircle, and CFDA, CFEB,
squares described on the railius CF, and let CE be the dia-
gonal of one of the squares BF : Let CF be divided into any

number of equal parts CG, GK, KM, MF ; and let per-
pendiculars be drawn through the ))oints of division, meet-
ing the diagonal CE, in the points O, P,Q ; the quadrantal
arc BF in the points H, L, N j and the side of the square in
the points R, S, T : Construct the rectangles CO, GP,
KQ, ME, which will circumscribe the triangle CFE ; con-
struct also the rectangles CH, GL, KN, which will be in-
scribed in the f|uadrant CFB. Suppose now the plane of
the square to revolve about its side CF as an axis ; the tri-
angle CFP- will then generate a cone, which will have DE
for the diameter of its base, and C for its vertex ; the qua-
drant CFB will generate a hemisphere, having for its base a
circle of which AB is a diameter; and the square CBEF will
generate a cylinder, having the same base and altitude as
the hemisphere : Also, the rectangles described about the
triangle CFE will manifestly generate a series of cylinders
circumscribing the cone ; the rectangles inscribed in the
quadrant will generate a series of cylinders inscribed in the
hemisphere; and the rectangles CR, GS, KT, ME will
generate a scries of cylinders which will compose a cylin-
der having the same base and altitude as the hemisphere.

The triangles CFE, CGO are manifestly similar, and CF
=FE ; therefore CG=GO : In like manner, it may be
proved that CK = KP, and that CM = MQ.

Join CH, and because CGH is a right angled triangle,
a circle described with CH as a radius will be equal to two
circles described with CG and GH as radii (2 Cor. 8. 5.
Part I.) but CG=GO, and CH=GR, therefore a circle
described with GR as a radius will be equal to two circles
described with GO and GH as radii ; hence again it fol-
lows, that the cylinder generated by the rectangle CR will
be equal to both the cylinders generated by the rectangles
CO and CH, for they have all the same altitude, and the
base of the first is equal to the sum of the bases of the other
two. It may be demonstrated in the same manner, that the
cylinder generated by the rectangle GS is equal to the sum
of the cylinders generated by the rectangles GP and GL,
and the same of all the rest ; therefore the sum of the cylin-
ders, generated by the rectangles CR, GS, KT, ME is
equal to the two series of cylinders, one generated by the
rectangles CO, GP, KQ, ME, and the other generated
by the rectangles CH, GL, KN ; that is, a cylinder having
the same base and altitude as the hemisphere, is equal to
the sura of the two series of cylinders, one described about
the cone, and the other described in the hemisphere.

Prop. VI. Theor.

Every sphere is two thirds of the circumscribing cylinder.

Let a figure be constructed exactly as in last proposi-
tion ; and to abridge, let C (Fig. 169.) denote the cone, c
the series of cylinders described about it, H the hemisphere,
h the cylinders described in it, and K the cylinder having the
same base and altitude as the hemisphere, or cone : ^lore-
over, p\M cl for the diHerence between the cone and its cir-
cumscribed cylinders, and d' for the difference between the
hemispliere and its inscribed cylinders ; then we have

C-f-f/— f, and' li=/, + d',
and adding equals to equals,

C+H+f/— f + /i + (i'.
But f-f/j = K (5.) ; therefore, C -\- li + d = K + d', and
C-fH +</—»'— K. also C -f H = K +d'~d. Hence it ap-
pears that the diffi:rence between C-f-H and K is equal to
the difference between d and rf'. Now d is less than the
cylinder generated by the rotation of the lectangle ME
(Cor. to prop. 4.), and d' is less than the cylinder generated
by the rectangle CR, which is equal to ME, therefore the
difference between dand d' must be less than the same rec-
tangle ; hence the difference between C-f H and K is less
than the cylinder generated by the revolution of the rectan-
gle ME, or is less than a cylinder having the same base as
the cone, and the line FM J'ur its altitude. Fiom this we

GEOMETRY.

691

may infer, that C + ll is exactly equal to K ; for if there tlian FV ; tlicrcrorc C + H cannot be iincqml to K; and

can be any dilTerence, let it be a cylindci- having the same since C + H = K. and Cr^|K (3 ), thcrclorc Ilzr'K; th.it

base as the cone, and its altiuide equal to FV ; then FM is, the hemisphere is two iliirds of its circunisc ribini; cylin-

must be greater than FV ; but the number ((f parts into der ; and takinj' the doubles of these ; the whole 8i)herc is

which FC is divided may be so great that FM may be less two-thirds of its circumscribing cylinder.

^n Index lo shew the Profiositions in the foregoing Treatise, nuhich corres/iond to the /irincifial Theorems in the first
«i\r, and the eleventh and twelfth Books of Euclid's Elements.

Euclid.

Book I.

Prop. 4

5
6
8
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
24
26
27
28
29
30
32
Cor. 32
33

Geom.

Part I.
Pr. Sect.

6 1

12 1

13 1
11 1

2 1

3 1

4 1

24 1

14 1

8 1

9 I
10 1

7 1

20 1

21 1

22 1

24 1

25 1
28 1

Euclid.

Book I.

34
35
36
37

38
41
47

Book II.

P. 4

Book III.

P. 3

10
11

Geom.

Part I.
Pr. Sect.

26 1

1 4

Cor. tt,

2 4
2 4

11 4

Pr. S.

8 4
I 10 4

9 4
13 4
12 4

Pr. S

6 2

Co.7 2

14'2

E,uclid.

Book III.

P. 12
14

16
20
21
22
26
27
28
29
31
32

Book V.

P. 4

Part I.
Pr. Sect.

15 2

4 2

19
20
28

I 29
' 30

Pr. S.

7
12

Euclid.

Book V.

P. 15

16
17
18

22
23
24

Book VI.

P. 1

{

4
5
6
8
14
15

Geom.

Part I.
Pr. Sect.

5
4
8
9
10

Pr. S.

3 4
C. 5 4
C. 6 4
5154
^16 4

17 4

18 4

19 4

20 4

21 4
> Cor.
$ 24 4

Euclid.

Book VI.

16
17
19

31 ■

22 4

C.22 4

25 4

S26 4

^27 4

C. 2 to

27 4

31 4

Book XI.

. 1
2
3
4

Geom.

Part I.
Pr. Sect.

Part 11.
Pr. S.

1 1

2 1

3 1

4 1
iC.of

5 1
5 1

2 Col
5 1
10 1
C.2 £c3
of 4 1

Euclid.

Geom.

Book XI.

Part H.
Pr. Sect.

P. 14

6 1

11 1

7 1

12 I

13 1

15 1

16 1

17 1

2 2

C.ll 3

4 2

5 2

30
31

^62

C.ll 2

12 2

Bonk XII.

Pr. S.

P. 1

5 5

8 5

17 2

3 3

APPENDIX

TO THE ELEMENTS OF GEOMETRY.

SECT. I.

Of the M.\xima and Minima of Geomethicai.
Quantities.

Definitions.

1. A quantity is said to be a nia.Tcimtim, when it is the
{greatest ; and a minimum, when it is the least of all quanti-
ties of the same kind.

Thus the diameter of a circle is a mn.rimum among all the
chords that can be drawn in a circle ; and the perpendicular
is a 7ninimum among all lines that can be drawn from a given
point to terminate in a straight line.

2. Figures are called isoperimetriral, wlien they have
equal perimeters.

Prop. I. Theor.

Of all triangles having the same base and the same peri-
meter, tb.e maximum triangle is that in which the two inde-
terminate sides arc equal.

Let ACB, AMB, (Fig. 170.) be two triangles on the same
base AB, and such tnat AC-f-CB=AM4- MB ; then if AC
= CB, and AM, be greater or less than MB, the triangle
ACB isgreater than AMB.

Draw CE pcrpenrlicular to AB, and MD perpendicular
to CE ; join AD. BD, and in AD produced take DF = DB,
and joiiiMF. Then AFizBF, (Gtonietry, Schol. to 12 of
Sect. I. Part. I.) and AD = BD (6. 1.) and the angle FD.M
=DAE (3 Cor. 21. l.)=:DBE(12. l.)=BDM ; hence the
triangles FDM, BDM aie equal, (6. 1.) and MF=.MB; and

AM-f MF=AM + MB=AC+CB=2AC ; but AM-f MF

is greater than AF, or 2AD ; therefore 2AC-p^2AD, and
AC-p^AD; and hence EC^='ED (16. 1.) Now EC and
ED are the altitudes of the triangles ACB and AMB re-
spectively ; therefore the triangle ACB is greater than the
triangle AMB, (Cor. 6. 4.)

Prop. II. Theor.

Of all isoperimetrical polygon? of the same number of
sides, that which is a ma.vimum has its sides equal.

For let ABCDEF (Fi.cr- 171.) be the maximum polygon,
if the side EC be not equal to CD on the base BD, make
an isosceles triangle BOD, which shall be isoperimetrical
to BCD ; then the triangle BOD is greater than BCD (1.),
and consequcntiv the polygon ABODEF is greater than
the polygon ABCDEF ; therefore this last is not the great-
est of all polygons having the same number of sides and
the same perimeter, which is contrary to what we have sup-
posed ; hence BC must be equal to CD ; and in like man-
ner it may be denions'.rated, tliat any two adjoining sides
are equal.

Prop. III. Theor.

Of all triangles constructed with two given sides which
contain any angle, that is the greatest, of which tiie given
sides contain a right angle.

Lrt B.\C,B.\D, (Fig. 172.) be two triangles, which have
the side AB common, and AC=AD. If BAG be a right
a "l , the triangle BAC shall be areatei- than BAD, or
B.VD' : for the triana;les BAC, B,\D. are to one another as
tiifii- altitudes AC, DE, because tney have the sime base ;
but DE is less than AD, or its equal AC ; ihercforethe tri-
angle BAD is less than B.\C.

4 S2

692

GEOMETRY.

Prop. IV. Theor.

If all the sides of a polygon be given, except one, the
polygon will be a maximum, when all its angles are on half
the circumference of a circle of which the unknown side is
the diameter.

Let ABCDEF (Fig. 173.) be the greatest polygon that
can be formed by the given lines AB BC, CD,DE, EF, and
the indetermined line AF. Draw AD, FD to the vertex
of any one of its angles. If the angle AUF be not a right
angle, supposing two parts of the polygon, ABCDA and
FEDF, to remain the same, the triangle ADF, and conse-
quently the whole polygon, might be increased by making
ADF a right angle (3.) ; but the polygon being by hypo-
thesis a maximum, it cannot be increased, therefore the an-
gle ADF must be already a right angle. The same is al-
so true of the angles ACF, ABF, AEF ; therefore all the
angles of the polygon are in the circumference of a semi-
circle of which AF is the diameter.

Scholium. This proposition gives rise to a question,
whether it be possible to form different polygons which
shall each be inscribed in a semicircle, and have all their
sides, except that which is the diameter, equal to given
lines ? Before deciding this question it may be observed,
that if one of the same chord AB(Fig. 174) subtends arcs
described with different radii AC, AD, the angle which the
chord subtends at the centre of the greater circle shall be
less than the angle it subtends at the centre of the less cir-
cle : For the angle ADO = ACD + DAC ; therefore ADO
":?'ACO, and doubling each ADB-:?'ACB.

Prop. V. Theor.

There is only one way of forming a polygon ABCDEF
(Fig. 173.) which ahull bo inociibptl in a semicircle, and
have all its sides, except the diameter AF, equal to given
lines.

For supposing a circle to be found that satisfies the
question, if a greater circle would also satisfy it, the chords
AB, BC, CD, Sec. would subtend lesser angles at the cen-
tre of this than at the centre of the other circle ; and the
sum of these angles would be less in the one than in the
other circle ; but by tlie nature of the figure, in each the
sum sliould be the same, viz. two right angles, therefore
the polygon cannot be inscrilied in two different semicircles.

Scholium. The order of the given sides AB, BC, CD,
Sec. may be changed, and still the diameter of the circle
shall be the same, as well as the area of the polygon ; for
whatever be the order of the arcs AB, BC, CD, Sec. it is
sufficient that their sum hf. a semicircumference. The dif-
ferent polygons will also have equal areas, because by draw-
ing lines to the centre, the triangles which constitute any
one polygon will be respectively equal to those which con-
stitute any other, as is evident.

Prop. VI. Theor.

Of all polygons formed with given sides, the inaximum is
that which cin be inscribed in a circle.

Let ABCDEFG (Fig. 175) be the polygon inscribed in
a circle, and abed e f g that which cannot be so inscribed.
Draw the diameter E.M ; join AM, MB, and oriaA=AB
make a triangle a ??; 6 so that iz jhziAM, and ?hA = MB,
and jo'.n e m. Then, by Prop. 4. the polygon EFGAM is
greater than eft^ a m. unless this last can be inscribed in a
circle of which em is the diameter, because in this case
the two polygons would be equal (Prop. 3.) For the same
reason the polygon EDCBM is greater than c d c b m, e>:-
cepling the case of the latter admitting of being inscribed
in a semicircle, so as to make them equal. Tlierefore the
whole polygon EFGAMBCDE is greater than the wliole
polygon e/5-ara 6 c (/f, unles's they are entirely cqu:il,
which cani.ot happen, because the one is supposed to ad-
mit of being inscriljed in a circle, but not tlic other ; there-
fore the inscribed polygon is the greater of the two, and

taking away the equal triangles AMB,a m b, there remains
the polygon ABCDEFG, inscribed in a circle, greater
than the other polygon abed cf ir, which does not admit of
such inscription.

S< HOLiUM. It may be demonstrated, as in Prop. V. that
there can be only one circle, and conse(]«ciitly only one
maximum polygon that satisfies the question ; and this po-
lygon will have the same surface, in whatever order the
sides follow each other.

Prop. VII. Theor.
The regular polygon is the greatest of all the iso peri-
metrical polygons, having the same number of sides.

For by Theorem 2, the maximum polygon has all its
sides equal ; and by the last theorem, it may be inscribed
in a circle. Now no other than a regular polygon has these
two properties.

Prop. VIII. Lemma.

If two circles ADH, ABK, (Fig. 176.) touch each other
internally at A, and a straight line CD be drawn from the
centre of the inner circle, to cut the circumferences in B
and D,tlie arc AD of the outer circle shall be greater than
the arc AB of the inner circle.

In the circumference of the inner circle, take the arc BE
— BA ; join CE, and through E and D, with a radius equal
to the radius of the outer circle, describe an arc ED ; then
the trilateral figures ACD, ECD, will manifestly be exact-
ly alike, and the arcs EB, ED w ill touch each other at E.
And because the conc.ive line ADE, (formed by the arcs
AD, ED,) and the arc ABE, have their concavities turned
the same way, by an axiom in geometry, the former is
greater than the latter ; therefore, taking their halves, the
arc AD is greater than the arc AB.

Prop. IX. Theor.

Of two isoperimetrical regular polygons, that which has
the greater number of sides is the greater.

LetAB.DE (Fig. 177) be half the exterior sides of the
two polygons, C their common centre ; also CA and CAD
those radii of circles inscribed in the polygons, which are
perpendicular to their sides. Draw CB, CE, and let CE
meet AB in M. Draw BH parallel to CE. On C as a cen-
tre, describe the arc AF, meeting CE in G ; and on H as a
centre, describe the arc AK, meeting CF in I.

Because the polygons have equal perimeters, the lengths
of their sides will be reciprocally as their number ; and be-
cause all the angles at the centre of each polygon make
four riglit angles, the angles which the sides subtend at
the centre, will also be reciprocally as their number : hence
we have DE : AB : : arc AG : arc AF.

The triangles CAM, HAB, are manifestly similar, also
the sectors CAG, HAK, hence

AB : AM : : arc AK : arc AG,
and since DE : AB : : arc AG : arc AF,
therefore, ex. eq. DE : AM : : arc AK : arc AF ;
but DE: AM::CD:CA;
therefore arc AK : arc AF : : CD : CA.

Now the arc AK is greater than the arc AI, which agaiij
is greater than the arc AF, (preceding Prop.) therefore CD
is greater than CA ; that is, the radius of the circle inscrib-
ed in the polygon having the lesser angle, or greater num-
ber of sides, is greater than tlie radius of the other polygon ;
but the polygons being isoperimetri . 1, and the area of
each equal to half the rectangle of the perimeter, and the
radius of tlie inscribed circle, the areas will be proportional
to these radii ; ihcreibre the polygon that has (he greatest
number of sides, has the greatest area. '

Prop. X. Theor.
The circle is greater than any isoperimetrical polygon.
It has been proved, that if a regular and irregular poly-
gon have equal perimeters, the former has the greater

GEOMETRY.

693

area ; tliercforc it only remains to compare the circle with
a regular iKjlygon of the same perimeter.

Let AI (Fi;^. 178.) be half tlic side of the polygon, C the
centre. In tlic isoperimetrical circle, let the angle DOli
=ACI, and consequently the arc DEzi the side AI : the
polygon P is to ihc circle C as the triangle ACI is to the
sectorODE ; now the area of the triangle is iAIxIC, and
the area of the sectcr is jDExEO ; therefore P : C : : JAI
XlC : IDExEO : : IC : EO. Draw the tangent EG to
meet OD in G. The triangles ACI, GOE being similar,
IC : EO : : AI : GE ; therefore, P : C : : AI, or arc DE :
GE: : ADExEO: JGE x EO ; but ^DEx EO = sector
DOE ; and iGExEO=triangle GOE, therefore P : C : :
sector DOE : triangle GOE; now the triangle GOE is
greater than the sector DOE ; therefore the circle C is
greater than the isoperimetrical polygon P.

CoH. A circle contains within a given perimeter the
greatest possible area.

Prop. XI. Theoh.

Of all polygons, having the same number of sides and a
given area, a regular polygon is that which has its perime-
ter a minimmn.

Let A (Fig. 1"9.) be the given area of a polygon, and v

its perimeter ; let a similar polygon have its perimeter

equal to a given line 6, and let its area be X. Because

similar figures are as the squares of their perimeters, we

have A : X : : u^ : 6" ; hence Ax A^ = Xxx*^, and v^ z=

Ax^"

— -^^ — ; hence it is evident that the greater the value of X,

the less will be the value of -y ; but the perimeter b being
given, the area X is the greatest possible when the polygon
is regular, (7), therefore the perimeter of a regular polygon,
having a given area, will be less than the perimeter of an
irregular polygon of the same number of sides, and thesame
area.

Prop. XII. Theor.

Of regular polygons having the same area, that which
has the greatest number of sides has the least perimeter.

Let V and .r (Fig. ISO.) be the perimeters of two regular
polygons, having the same area A ; also let Y and Z be the
areas of two polygons, similar to them which have the same
perimeter b : then, because of the similar polygons, we have
T'^ :6^ : : A: Y,
b^:x'^::7.:A,
Iience, ex eq. v^ : x'' : iX-.Y.
Xow, if of the two polygons Y and Z, Y be that which has
the greater number of sides, then Y will be greater than
Z (9.), and consequently Z,=ilY ; therefore v^ will be less
ihan x", and v less than x ; that is, the perimeter of the po-
lygon having the greater number of sides, is less than the
perimeter of the other polygon.

Prop. XIII. Theor.

The perimeter of a circle is less than that of any poly-
gon having an equal area.

This proposition may be proved exactly in the same man-
ner as the last ; or else by considering that a circle is the
limit of all the regular polygons that can possibly be de-
scribed about it ; and that while the area of the circle may
differ from the area of the polygon by less than any assign-
able quantity, its perimeter will be less than that of the po-
lygon.

Cor. a circle contains a given area with the least possi-
ble perimeter.

SECT. II.

The construction of Geometrical PR0BLi:Ms, by

DESCRIBING CiRCLES ONLY.

A geometrical problem is considered as resolved, when
it is shown to be identical with some other known pioblem,

or to be a combination of several, the mode of resolving
each of which is known. The decomposition of a problem
into others more simple, leads to the question, which prob-
lems are the most simple ? so as not to admit of farther
decomposition.

The ancient geometers assumed, as the most elementary,
these three.

1 . To draw a straight line from any one point to any other
point.

2. To ]>roduce a terminated straight line to any length
in a straight line.

r>. To describe a circle from any centre at any distance
from that centre.

They did not propose to resolve these, but took for
granted that their resolution was known, and as obvious as
the truth of the axioms.

However narrow a foundation these three self-evident
problems, or /tostutales as they are called, may appear to
afford, when compared with the vast fabric of geometry,
attempts have been made to render it still narrower. Tar-
talea proposed to Cardan, to construct all the problems in
Euclid by one and the same opening of the compasses, ad-
mitting, however, the use of a rule ; and Bencdictus com-
posed a work on this problem. Schooten, instead of the
postulate, " that a circle may be described from any cen-
tre at any distance from that centre," substituted this, " that
from a given point in an indefinite straight line, a straight
line may be cut off equal to a given terminated straight
line ;" by this change, he shewed elegantly how all the
problems in elementary geometry might be constructed,
without employing the circle farther than to cut off from a
line a part of a given length, and thus in appearance the
problems were constructed by straight lines only. See
Schooten, Exercit. Math. lib. ii.

At a later period, an Italian mathematician, Mascheroni,
imposed on himself the task of resolving all plane problems
whatever, by the circle alone : his success was complete,
and the result of his lalours is given in his Geometrie du
Comfias, the Geometry of the Compasses. It must be ob-
served, that it is only in the construction of the problem
that the straight line is dispensed with ; for, in the demon-
stration, straight lines must be supposed drawn, and their
properties introduced, in order to apply the common ele-
ments of geometry.

It is an anecdote not altogether without interest in the
history of geometry, that the celebrated Bonaparte, late
Emperor of the French, studied the geometry of the com-
passes under Mascheroni ; he even condescended to pro-
pose to the French mathematicians one of its problems,
namely, to divide the circumference of a circle into four
equal parts, without employing straight lines.

We shall now give some specimens of this mode of con-
structing problems. And it is to be observed, tliat the pro-
positions referred to in the article Geometry, are all in
the first Part.

Prop. I. Prob.

To determine a distance in the direction of a straight
line passing through two given points A, B, that shall be
any multiple of the given distance A B.

First., To double the distance AB. (Fig. 181.) On B as
a centre, with B.\ as a radius, describe a portion ACDE
of a circle, not less than its half. On A as a centre, with
the same distance, describe an arc, to cut the circle in C.
In like manner determine the points D and E in the cir-
cumference, so that the distances from C to D, and from
D to E, may be equal to the distance from A to C, or from
A to B. Then, because the chords of the airs AC. CO. DE
are each equal to the radius AB ; the arc ACDE will com-
plete a semicircle (2 5.), and the points A, E will be the
extremities of a diameter j therefore the points A, B, E

694

GEOMETRY.

will lie in a straight line, and the distance AE will be dou-
ble AB.

2rf, To find the triple of the distance AB. Take BF the
double of BE, and AE shall be the triple of AB ; and pro-
ceeding in this way, any multiple whatever of AB may be
found.

Pnop. II. PiioR.

To divide a given distance AB (Eig. 182.) into any pro-
posed number of equal parts.

Let us suppose that the distance AB is to be divided in-
to three equal parts. Take the distance AC equal to three
times the distance AB, (by Prop. 1.), and in general, what-
ever be the number of equal parts into which AB is to be
divided, take AC equal to the same number of times AB ;
in other respects, the construction is the same in all cases.
On C as a centre, with C A as a radius, describe an arc PA/;;
and on A as a centre, with AB as a radius, describe another
arc PB/;, meeting the former in P and/j. In the circle fiiiP,
beginning from the point /i, place three chords /im,m7i,
n Q, each equal to the radius AB. On P as a centre, with
a radius equal to AB or AP, describe the arc AV, and on
A as a centre, with a radius equal to the chord of PQ, de-
scribe another arc, meeting the former in V ; then V shall
be in a straight line joining A and B ; and the distance AV
shall be one third of the distance AB.

Join AP, CP, AQ, PQ, A V, PV. The triangles CAP,
PAQ are manifestly isosceles; and because the arcs/; m,m tt,
n Q are each one-sixth of the circumference, (2. 5 ) the
arc /! BQ is half the circumference ; hence it is the measure
of the three angles of the triangle CAP, (31.4. and 24. 1 .)
that is of the angle C, and twice the angle C.\P; but the
arc PB/i is the measure of twice the angle PAB, because
arc BP=arc B ft ; therefore the remaining arc PQ is the
measure of the angle C. Now the same arc is also the
measure of the angle PAQ ; therefore the angle C is equal
to the angle PAQ ; and since PC : CA : : PA : AQ, the tri-
angles PCA, PAQ are similar (20. 4.) ; hence the angle
APQ is equal to the angle PAC ; but the angle APQ =
PAV, because by construction AP is commom to the trian-
gles APQ, PAV, and PQ = AV, and AQ=PV ; therefore
tlie angle PAC is equal to the angle PAV, and consequent-
ly V is in the straight line AC. And because CA : AP : :
AP : A V, that is, CA : AB : : AB : AV, therefore whatever
part AB is of AC, the very same part will AV be of AB.

The remaining points of division X, &c. may be found by
making AX^2 AV. Etc. as taught in Prop 1.

Scholium. The point V might also have been found by
determining the points P and fi as in the above construc-
tion, and then describing arcs on P and/i as centres to pass
through the point A, these would have intersected each
other again in the point V. This construction, however, is
not so good as the other, as a practical method, because
the arcs cut each other obliquely.

Prop. III. Pkob.

Having given two points in a straight line, to determine
the direction of a perpendicular to it, which shall pass
through one of the points.

Let the given points be A, B, (Fig. 183) On these points,
with any radius greater than half AB, describe arcs to in-
tersect each other in C. On C, as a centre, describe a cir-
cle to pass through A and B, and determine the semicircle
ABP, as in the former problems, by cutting ofi' successive-
ly three arcs A m, m «, n P, witli a radius in the compasses
equal to that of the circle ; then P will be a point in the
perpendicular PB. Eor the angle APB, which is in a semi-
circle, is a right angle.

Prop. IV. Prob.
Having given two points in a straight line, to determine
the direction of a perpendicular drawn from a point with-

out it, and also the point in which the perpendicular meets

the line.

Let A, B (Fig. 184) be the given points in the line AB,
and P the point without it. On A and B, as centres, de-
scribe arcs to pass through P, and meet each other at fi, a
point on the other side of AB. Because each of the points
A and B is equally distant from P and fi, the line AB is
perpendicular to the line which passes through P and /;,
(17. 1.). It also bisects P/; at C ; therefore C, the inter-
section of the line AB,and the perpendicular, may be found
by Prop. 2.

Prop. V. Prob.

Having given two points A and B (Fig. 185) in a straight
line, and a point P without it, to determine the position of a
line that passes through P, and is parallel to AB.

On P as a centre, with a radius equal to AB, describe
an arc of a circle ; and on B as a centre, with a radius
equal to PA, describe another arc, cutting the former in Q;
a Ime passing through P and Q will be parallel to AB. For
if AP, BP, BQ, be joined, the triangles PAB, BQP, will
be, in all respects, equal ; therefore the angles, QPB, PBA,
are equal, and PQ is parallel to AB.

Prop. VI. Prob.

To find the side of a square, that shall be equal to the
difference of two given squares.

Let AB and AC (Fig. 186.) be the sides of the given
squares. In the line AB produced, take B a^iBA, (Prop.
1.), and on A and a, as centres, with a radius equal to AC,
describe arcs cutting each other in D. The distance from
B to D will be the side of the square required.

Because AD a is an isoscelestriangle,astraight line drawn
from D, the vertex of the triangle, to B, the middle of the
base, will be perpendicular to the base, (12. 1) ; therefore
AD2=AB^ + BD%and BD'=AD-— AB".

Prop. VII. Prob.

To bisect a given arc of a circle.

Let AB (Fig. 187.) be the given arc, and C the centre of
the circle. On B as a centre, with a radius equal to CA,
describe an arc of a circle ; and on C as a centre, with a ra-
dius equal to BA, describe another arc, cutting the former
in D. Find m the side of a square, that shall be equal to
the difference of the squai-es of the lines DA, DC, (Prop.
6.) On D, as a centre, with a radius equal to m, describe
an arc, to meet the arc AB in V ; then V shall be the mid-
dle of the arc AB.

Draw AE perpendicular to CD, and CF perpendicular
to AB. Because by construction AB^CD, and AC^BD,
the figure ABDC is a parallelogram ; therefore also AFCE
is a rectangle, and CErzAF, but AFuri AB (6. 2); there-
fore CE=i AB—^CD, and 2 CE— CD. In the triangle
ACD, we have AE)' ZZ AC=-f CD' ^- 2 EC x CD (13.4.)
=:AC'-|-2CDS theiefore AD^ — CD^zz AC' f CD' ;
but by construction AD^ — CD'^DV^ ; therefore DV^==
AC-fCD' ; and, if a strai.u:ht line be drawn fiom V to C,
DV'rrVC'-f CD2; hence bcV is a right-angled tiiangle
(11. 4 ) and CV is perpendicular to CD, and consequently
is perpendicular to the chord AB ; therefore CV^ bisects
the arc AVB in V.

Prop. VIII. Pkob.

To find the sum or difference of two given distances
AB CD.

On B, (Fig. 188.) one extremity of either of the given
distances ; s a centre, with a radius equal to the other given
distance CD, describe a circle. On A, the other extremi-
ty, with any r.idius, describe an arc to cut the circum-
ference in m and n. Bisect the arcs of the circle between

GKOIMETJiY.

69!

»; and 71 in Eaiul F, (last Prop.) tlien AE is the sum of tlic
distances AU, CD, and AF tlieii- diHVrcnce.

For if A m, IJ «!, Em, A n, li ?i, E ?i be joined, tlie tri-
angles on eacli side of AB will be ecjual ; hence, as the
prolongation of AB, and the line drawn from B to E, will
bisect tlie angle m B n, the points A, B, E will be in a
straight line. In like manner it appears that the points A,
15, F are in a straight lijie; conse(|uently AE^ AB + BE
rr AB + CD, and AFzi AB — BE::z AB— CD.

Scholium. By this problem, a line may be produced
to any given distance. Also from the greater of two lines
a part may be cut off equal to the less.

Prop. IX. Prob.
To find the centre of a given circle.

Let ADB (Fig. 189.) be the circle. Take any point B
in the circumference, and on B as a centre, with any radi-
us less than the diameter of the given circle, and greater
than the fourth of that diameter, describe a circle ADC,
cutting the other circle in D. Determine C, the opposite
extremity of the diameter AC, as in the former problems.
On BC construct the isosceles triangle BEC, having its
sides BE, CEeach equal to CD. On E as a centre, with
EB or EC as a radius, describe an arc, cutting the circle
ADC in F ; then the distance from A to F shall be the
radius of the circle ADB ; and arcs described on any two
jjoints in its circumference as centres, with AF as a radius,
will evidently intersect each other in its centre.

Suppose O the centre of the circle. Draw OA, OB,
and the other lines as in the figure. Because the chord
AB^chord BD, the arc AB is equal to the arc BD, and
the angle BAD~angIe BDA; now the angle BAD, or
CAD, is half the angle CBD, (16. 2,) and the angle BDA
is half the angle BtJA ; therefore the angles CBD, BOA
are equal, and since CB^BD, and BO~OA, the triangles
CBD, BOA are similar ; and CD : CB : : BA : BO ; that
is, CE : CB:: AB : BO.

Again, because the isosceles triangles EBC, EBF are
manifestly in all respects equal, the angle CBF is double
the angle CBE; but in the isosceles triangle ABF, of
which a side AB is produced, the exterior angle CBF is
equal to the two angles BAF, BFA, that is, to 2 BAF,
therefore the angle CBE3: angle BAF, and BCE— BFA.
Hence the isosceles triangles EBC, BFA, are similar ; and
CE : CB : : AB : AF. But it was shewn that CE : CB : :
AB : BO ; therefore AFrrBO, that is, AF is the radius of
the given circle ABD.

Prop. X. Pror.
To determine the intersections of a line which passes
through two given points A, B, and a circle given by po-
sition.

Case 1. (Fig. 190.) When the line passes through C,
the centre of the circle. From C, set off CF and C /, in
opposite directions, each equal to the radius of the cir-
cle, so that F and/ may be in the line AB (by Prop. 8.) ;
and the points F,y, will manifestly be the intersection of
the straight line and circle.

C.\sE 2. (Fig. 191) When the line AB does not pass
thiough the centre C. Draw CD perpr:ndicular to AB
(Prop. 4). and produce it, so that DEr^DC, (Prop. 1.)
On C and E as centres, with the radius of the circle in the
compasses, describe arcs to intersect each other in F and
f; and these points will be the irilersection of the straight
line and the circle. For the points F and/ are in the line
which bisects CE at right angles (17. 1.); therefore they
are in the line AB ; and the same points F,/ are mani-
festly in the circumlcrence of the circle ; therefore tliey
are the intersections of the straight line and circle.

Prop. XI. Pkob.

To find a third proijortional to two given lines P, Q.

On any point C (Fig. 192,) as a centre, with a radius
equal to P, the first of the three proportionals, describe an
arc .\DB. In this arc place the chord AD equal to Q,
the second term. On D as a centre, with DA as a radius,
describe a ciicle ABE, and find E, the ojiposite end of the
diameter passing through A, as in the former proljlems.
The distance from B to E shall be the third proportional
sought.

For, the isosceles triangles CAD, CBD being equal, the
angle ADB is^double the angle ADC ; but in the isosceles
triangle DBE, the outward angle ADB is the sum of the
angles DEB, DBE, and therefore is double the angle
DEB. Hence the angles ADC, DBE are equal, and con-
sequently the other angles of the triangles CAD, DBE
are equal, and the triangles are similar. Therefore CA :
AD : : DB : BE, that is P : Q : : Q : BE.

This construction can only apply, when the first term
is greater than half the second ; when it is not, it may be
doubled or quadrupled, &c. by Prop. I. until a multiple
of it be found that exceeds the half of Q, and then a like
multiple of a third proportional to this multiple of P, and
the line Q will evidently be a third proportional to P
and Q.

Prop. XII. Prob.

To find a fourth proportional to three given lines P,
Q,R.

On any point C (Fig. 193.) as a centre, with radii equal
to P and R, the first and third terms of the proportionals,
describe concentric circles AB, DE. In the first of these,
place the chord AB equal to the second term Q. Take
any point D in the circumference of the other circle, and
from B place between the two circumferences a line BE
equal to AD. Then the distance between D and E shall be
the fourth propottional sought.

For, by construction, the three sides of the triangle ACD
are equal to the three sJcJes of the triangle BCE, each to
each. Hence the pngle ACD is equal to the angle BCE,
and adding the common angle BCD, the angle ACB is
equal to the angle DCE ; therefore the isosceles triangles
ACB, DCE are similar, and CA : AB : : CD : DE; that
is, P : Q : : R : DE.

If the third term is more than double of the first, this
construction will not immediately apply ; but it may be
modified, as in last proposition, by taking a multiple of the
first, and then the line required will be a like multiple of
a fourth proportional to the multiple so taken of the first,
and the second, and third termt;.

Prop. XIII. Prob.

To find a mean proportional between two given lines
AB, CD.

Place BE=CD (Fig. 194.) in a line with AB (Prop. 8.)
Bisect AE in F (Prop. 2.) Make BGizBF (Piop. 1.)
On F and G as cejitres, with a radius equal to FB, de-
scribe arcs intersecting in H ; and the distance from B to
H will be the fourth proportional required.

It is manifest from the construction, that FBH is a right
angle, and that H is in the circumference of a circle of
which AE is the diameter ; therefore AB: BH : : BH : BE
or CD. (Prob. 3. Sect. 4. Part 1.)

Prop. XIV. Theor.

Having given two points in each of two straight lines,
to find the intersection of the lines.

We shall give an analytical solution to this problem.
Indeed the whole theory niight, with great advantage, be
given under the analytical form.

Let A, B (["ig. 195.) be given points in the line AB, and
C, D given points in the line CD. Suppose the intersec-
tion of the lines to be found, and that it is the point V.
Draw V a on the other side of VC, so that the angles

696

GEO

C V a, C V A may be equal ; take V n— VA, and V A=:VB,
ami draw lines IVom A to a, and from B to />. Then every
point in CV will 1)C eciually distant from A and a, also
IVom B and 6(12, and 17 of Sect I. Part 1.) ; lience the
distance n Crz distance AC ; and the distance a U n dis-
tance AD ; but AC and AD arc known, because the points
A, C, D arc given ; therefore the distances o C, a D, are
also known, and consequently the point a is known. In
like manner it appears that the distances 6 C, 6 D arc
equal to the known distances EC, BD ; thus the point 6 is
known.

Draw BG parallel to V«, to meet A a in G. The
figure BG a i is evidently a parallelogram; therefore
BG — n b, and a GztB b ; now a b and B b are lines of a
given length, because the points o, 6, B are known ; there-
fore BG, a G are given distances ; and consequently the
point G is known.

The triangles AGB, A a V are evidently similar ; hence
AG : AB : : Aa : AV ; thus, AYzZ-a V is a fourth pro-
portional to three given lines ; therefore it may be found
by Prop. 12. And because V is at known distances froin
given points A, a, the position of the point V is deter-
mined.

Construction. On C and D as centres, with radii
equal to CA and DA, descrilie arcs to meet on the other
side of the line at a ; also on the same centres, with radii
equal to CB, DB describe arcs to meet in b. On B as a
centre, with a radius equal to a b, describe an arc, and on
a as a centre, with a radius equal to B A describe another
arc, to cut the former in G. Lastly, on A and a as centres,
with a radius equal to a fourth proportional to the distances
AG, AB, Aa, (found by Prop. 12.) describe arcs to in-
tersect in the point V, which will be the intersection of
the lines AB, CD, as is evident from the analysis of the
problem.

Prop. XV. Prob.

To divide the circumference of a cuclc into four, and
also into eight equal parts.

This problem might be resolved by the problem for the
bisection of an arc, but more elegantly by a construction
suited to the particular case. The analysis may be as foU
lows.

Let ADB (Fig. 196.) be a semicircle, AD one fourth,
and AE one eighth of the circumference. Draw the radii
CD, CE, and draw EF, a tangent to the circle, meeting
CD in F. Because CE bisects the arc AD, it is perpendi-
cular to the chord AD ; now CE is also perpendicular to
EF ; therefore EF is parallel to AD ; hence the angles
ADC, EFC are equal; now the angles ACD, CEF are
also equal, therefore the triangles ACD, CEF are similar;
and since AC— CE, therefore AD— CF. Join AF; and
in the right angled triangle ACF, we have AF^ — AC^-f
CF%butCF^ = AD=='AC^+ CD^=2 AC^ ; therefore
AF'=3 AC^ : Now AB-=4 AC", therefore AF'=AB^
— AC^. Place in the circle a chord BG equal to the ra-
dius, and join AG; then, because AG"zzAB^ — AC^, it
follows that AF2— AG'^ and AFriAG. Hence this con-
struction.

Determine the semicircle AGB as usual, and on A and
B as centres, with a radius equal to AG, the chord of two
thirds of the semicircumference, describe arcs to intersect
each other in F. Place in the circle a chord AD equal to
the distance from C to F, and D will be the middle of the
arc ADB.

Again, on F as a centre, with a radius equal to AC, de-
scribe an arc to cut the circle in E, andE will be the middle
of the quadrant AD. (|)

GEOMETRY, Descriptive, the name given to a
branch of geometry, which has of laic years been much
cultivated by the French mathematicians, and in particular
by Monge, who may be regarded as its inventor. Its object
is to represent on a plane, which has but two dimensions,
any object which has three, and which admits of a strict
definition. Descriptive geometry admits of a twofold ap-
plication. First, it is employed by artists to communicate
to each other a knowledge of difVerent objects. Thus it
furnishes the means of constructing geographical and to-
pographical charts; also plans of buildings and machines,
architectural designs, sun-dials, theatrical decorations, &c.
In this point of view, it is the best method that can be cm-
ployed to describe the forms and the relative positions of
objects. In the next place, it serves as an instrument of
research, by which we may discover every thing relative to
the form and the -position of the various parts of objects
■which admit of a rigorous definition. It is by the princi-
ples of descriptive geometry, that stone-cutters, carpen-
ters, ship-builders, and other artists, find the dimensions of
the different parts of the works which they execute, in as
far as these dimensions result from the complete definition
of the object.

Descriptive geometry formed an essential branch of the
education of the French youth in the school of public
works established at the beginning of the revolution ; and
it appears from the journal of the Polytechnic school, that
the scholars were, during a certain period of the course,
employed six hours every day in tracing the numerous ob-
jects which were the subject of their studies. The lessons
given in the Normal School, from a treatise on the subject
by Monge, entitled Geomeirie Dcscrijttive, printed in 1799.
There is also a treatise by Laci'oix, entitled Essais de geo-
metric sur les jilans et les surfaces coiirbcs [ou Eicmens de
geometric descriptive.) We have already treated this sub-
ject under the head of Constructive Carpentry. See
Carpentry, Part II. (|)

GEORGIA, one of the United States of America, is
situated between 30° 22' and 35° 10' N. Lat. and between
80° 20' and 85° 54' W Long. ; extending in length about
300 miles, and in breadth 250; and bounded on the east by
the Atlantic ocean, on the south by the East and West
Floridas, towards the west by the river Mississippi, and on
the north and north-east by South Carolina, by the Ten-
nesse State, or by lands ceded to the L^nited States by South
Carolina. The face of the country is various. That por-
tion of its eastern division which lies in oi.e direction be-
tween the rivers Savannah and St Mary's, in the other be-
tween the mountains and the ocean, a tract of territory
which, from north to south is upwards of 120 miles, and
from east to west not less than 40 or 50, is entirely level,
without a hill or stone. Farther to the westward, the
lands begin to be more or less uneven ; from ridges that
rise gradually one above another, swelling progressively
into hills, and thence finally terminating in mountains. The
vast chain of the Alleghany or Appalachian mountains,
which commences at Katts Kill, near Hudson's river, in
the state of New York, terminates here about 60 miles
south of the northern boundary ; while, from the point
where it ends, there spreads a widely extended plain, of
the richest soil, in a latitude and climate favourably adapt-
ed to the culture even of most of the East India produc-
tions, or of those of the south of Europe. The winters in
this country are mild and pleasant ; snow is seldom or
never seen, nor does it often happen that frosts prove inju-
rious to the vegetation. In the flat country the air is rather
confined, and being often contaminated by putrid vapours
from the rice swamps, is comparatively less healthful than
among the hills ; and spring water is scarce. From June

GEOEGIA.

697

to September, the mercury in Fahrcniieii's thermometer
fluctuates here between 76° and 'J0°, and in winter between
40" and 60°. The most prevalent winds are the south-
west and the eastern, and in winter the north-west. The
east wind is warmest in winter, and coolest in summer.

Georgia is abundantly watered by numerous rivers, as
well as smaller streams, which intersect it in every direc-
tion. The Savannah forms a part of the bounding line
by which this state is separated from South CarolinL\. It
is formed principally of two branches, the Tugulo and
Keowee, which have their origin in the mountains. It is
navigable for large vessels up to the town of the same name,
and for boats of 100 feet keel as far as Augusta. There
is a fall just above this place, beyond which it is farther
passable for boats to the mouth of the Tugulo. Tybee-bar,
at the entrance of the river, in latitude 31° 57', has at half
tide a depth of 1 6 feet water. The Alalamaka and Ogeechee
rivers have their course nearly parallel to the Savannah.

Besides these, with the several waters tributary to them,
there are the Turtle River, Little Sitilla, Great Sitilla,
Crooked River, and St Mary's, which last forms a part of
the southern boundary of the United States, and is naviga-
ble for vessels of considerable burden for 90 miles. On the
west it is washed by the Mississippi, which separates it
froin Louisiana. Of the rivers which fall into the Gulf of
Mexico, there are the Pearl, the Pascagoula, the Alibama,
the Tombigbee or Mobile, the Escambia, the Chatahouchee,
with the Apalachicola and the Flint rivers. The northern
part of the state is watered by the Tennessee, Bend, and
the Chuccamaga. All these rivers abound with various
sorts of fish, among which are rock, mullet, whiting, shad,
trout, drum, bap, cat-fish, brim, and sturgeon ; and the
bays and lakes afford oysters and other sliell-fish. Tiie
chief lake or marsh in the state is Ekanfiuioka, which is
300 miles in circumference.

The whole of the sea coast of Georgia is bordered with
islands, through the medium of which there is constituted
a sort of inland navigation, extending with but few inter-
ruptions from the river Savannah to St Mary's. Tiie prin-
cipal of these islands are Skedaway, Wassaw, Ossabaw,
St Catharine's, Sassels, Frederica, Jekyl, Cumberland and
Amelia.

The soil of Georgia, and the degrees of its fertility, va-
ry according to situation, and the difl'erences that have taken
place as to the manner or the extent of its improvement.
The islands just mentioned are in their natural state cover-
ed with a plentiful growth of pine, oak, hiccory, live oak,
and some red cedar. The soil is grey, formed by a mix-
ture of sand and black mould. A considerable part of it,
that particularly on which are chiefly found the oak, hic-
cory, and live oak, is very fertile, and yields on cultivation
good crops of indigo, corn, cotton, and potatoes. The soil
of the main land, adjoining to the marshes and creeks, is
nearly of the same quality with that of the islands. The
portion of it which borders on the creeks and rivers, forms
the chief exception, being the ground which furnishes the
valuable rice swamps. These begin immediately upon the
termination of the salts, and lie most of thein on rivci-s,
which, as far as the tide flows, arc called tide lands, or on
creeks and particular branches of water, flowing in some
deeper or lower pnrts of the lands, which are called inland
swamps, and extend back in the country from 1 5 to 25 miles,
beyond wliich, for the most part, little rice is planted.
Those lands immediately adjoining to the rivers are near-
ly level, continuing so in a breadth from two to three or four
miles, for the space, in a direct line from the sea, of not
less than 100 miles. In tliis distance, wherever a piece of
high land extends to the bank of the river on one side, there
mav almost invariably be expected, on the other) a low or

Vol. IX. Part II.

swampy ground of proportionable vvidiii. The interme-
diate lands, which are covered chiefly with pine, and a sort
of wild grass and small reeds, afford a large range of feed-
ing ground, both summer and winter. The oak and hiccory
ranges that are interspersed, and which are of superior
c|uality, yield, v/hen cultivated, good crops of corn, indigo,
or other valuable produce. At a distance from the sea, the
soil changes from grey to red; in some places it is gra-
velly, but fertile; and farther back into the country its tint
is gradually deepened, till it becomes what is called the
mulatto soil, consisting of a black mould and red eartli.
This sort of land is generally strong, and affords abundant
crops of wheat, tobacco, corn, £v;c. It is succeeded in its
turn by a soil that is nearly black, and very rich, and on
which there grow large (|uantities of black walnut and
mulberry. This sort of succession, in the different soils
which occur in the state, is throughout pretty regular and
uniform. They stretch in the same order, in lines nearly
parallel with the sea coast, not only across this state, but
all along northwards, as far even as to Hudson's river.
The staple commodities of Georgia are cotton and rice. It
yields also small quantities of indigo, cotton and silk, be-
sides Indian corn, potatoes, oranges, figs, pomegranates,
with other useful grains or fruits. The forests afford an
abundant supply of fine timber, consisting chiefly of oak,
hiccory, mulberry, pine, and cedar.

The manufactures of Georgia have not hitherto been
very considerable. The people in the lower part of the
state have not been accustomed to prepare even their own
clothing, or that worn by their negroes. For almost every
article, as well of their wearing apparel as of the tools
used by them in their husbandry, they have been indebted
to their merchants, who imported them from Great Bri-
tain or the northern states. Bwt in the upper parts of the
country, the inhabitants themselves manufacture the chief
part of their clothing front cotton and from flax. The
principal manufactures are those of indigo, silk, and sago.
The latter is a kind of sediment or staixh, that is obtained
by properly macerating and washing potatoes. The large
crops of tills kind that grow on the dry plains of the coun-
try, besides affording wholesome nourishment, have been
made to yield, by distillation, a spirituous liquor of a tolera-
ble quality, though inferior to that which is made from rye.
The chief articles of export from this state are rice, cot-
ton, tobacco, indigo, sago, lumber of various kinds, naval
stores, leather, deer-skins, snake-root, myrtle, and bees-
wax, corn, live stock, &.C. The value in sterling money of the
whole amount of those exports in the year 1755, was 15,744/.;
in 1760,20,852/.; in 1 765, 73,426/. ; and in 1772, 121,677/.
In 1791, the value of articles in like manner exported, was,
in dollars, 491,472; in 1792, 458,973 ; in 1793,501,383; in
1794,676,154; in 1796, 950,658; and in 1801, 1,854,951.*
The tonnage employed in this state was, in the year 1755,
1899 ; in 1760, 1457; in 1765, 7685 ; in 1772, 11,246; and
in 1790, 28,540 tons. The number of American seamen,
during the last of those years, was 11,235. In retm-n for
her exports, Georgia receives West India gools, teas,
wines, clothing, and dry goods of all kinds; from the north-
ern states, cheese, fish, potatoes, apples, cyder, and shoes.
Tlie imports and exports are principally to and from Sa-
vannah, which has a fine harbour, and is the chief empo-
rium of the state.

Before the revolution, Georgia, like the rest of the
soutliern states, was divided into parislies ; but sines that
period, the division has been into counties. According to

• The exports in the year 1811 amounted to 2.568,866
dollars.

4 T

698

GEORGIA.

this distribution, Georgia, under two districts, viz.* tlie
Upper and the Lower, compreheiKls 24 counties, of whicli
15 are included in the former division, and nine in the latter.

* That part of the stale which is settled is divided into
four districts, the Eastern, Middle. Western, and Southern,
which are subdivided into 38 counties, as follow, viz.

Eastern District.

Counties.

Population.

Chief Towns,

Wavne

676

Camden

3,941

St Mary's

Glynn

3,417

Brunswick

M'lntosh

3,736

Darien

Liberty

6,22S

Sunbury

Bryan

2,827

Hardwick

Bulloch

2,3U5

Efh.igham

2.586

Ebenezer

Chatham — 9.

13,540

Savannah

39,256

Middle District.

Columbia

11,242

Warren

8,725

Warrenton

Jefferson

6,111

Louisville

Burke

10,858

Waynesborough

Scnven

4,477

Jacksonborough

Washington

9,940

Saundersvile

Montgomery

2,954

Tatnal

2.206

Richmond — 9.

6,189

Augusta

Hancock

Oglethorpe

Clarke

Jackson

Franklin

Elbert

Lincoln

Wilkes

Walton — 9.

Jones

Randolph

Morgan

Greene

Putnam

Baldwin

Wilkinson

Laurens

Telfair

Pulaski

Twiggs — 11

62,702

Western District.

13,330

Sparta

12,297

Lexington

7,628

Athens

10,569

Jefferson

10,815

Caruesville

12,156

Petersburg

4,555

Goshen

14,887

Washington

1,026

87,263

Southern District.

8,597

Clinton

7,573

Monticello

8,369

Madison

11,679

Greensborough

10,029

Eatonton

6,359

Milledgeville

2,154

2,210

744

2,093

3.405

63,212

The counties of the upper district are Montgomery, Wash-
ington, Hancock, Green, Franklin, Otjletliorpe, Eibert,
Wilkes, Lincoln, Warren, Jefferson, Jackson, Bullock,
Columbia, and Richmond ; those of the lower district arc
Camden, Glynn, Liberty, Chatham, Bryan, M'lntosh, Ef-
fingham, Scriven, and IJurke. The principal towns are
Augusta, formerly the scat of government, Savannah, the
former capital of the state, both on the river Savannah,
Sunbury, Brunswick, Frederica, Washington, and Louis-
ville, which last is now the metropolis of the state, and the
place in which arc deposited its records.! The situation of
these towns is generally advantageous ; most of them stand-
ing on the banks of considerable rivers, and some of them,
as Savannah, Brunswick, Frederica, and Sunbury, having
safe and commodious harbours.

In the grand convention at Philadelphia, in 1787, the
inhabitants of Georgia were reckoned to amount in all to
90,000. By the census of 1790, it did not exceed 82,548
persons, of whom 29,264 were slaves.} Subsequent to
that period, however, there has been a very considerable
augmentation. The disposition and character of the inhabi-
tants, collected as they were led by interest, necessity, or
inclination, from different parts of the world, are very much
diversified. They have been charged with indolence,
which is attributed partly to the relaxing heat of the cli-
mate, and partly to the want of the necessary motives to
the excitement of industry. They are more advantageously
distinguished by their open and friendly hospitality, par-
ticularly towards strangers. Their diversions are dancing,
gaming, horse-racing, cock-fighting, and chiefly hunting.
To this latter amusement the nature of the country is suf-
ficiently favourable, the woods abounding with deer, ra-
coons, rabbits, wild turkies, and other game, at the same
time that they are commonly so thin and free from ob-
struction, as to throw no impediment in the way of the
chace.

The civil constitution of Georgia, which was adopted
and ratified by a convention of delegates from the people
on the 6th of May 1789. is formed upon a plan similar to
the federal constitution of the United States. According
to it, all legislative power is vested in two distinct bodies,
both of which are chosen by the people at large, and which
are styled the General Assembly. These are the senate
and the house of representatives ; of the former of which
the members are chosen for the term of three years,§ those
of the latter annually. The senate consists of one member
from each county, and the house of representatives of 34
members. II The executive power is vested in a governor,
who holds his office for the space of two years. It is decreed,
that freedom of the press, and trial by jury, shall remain in-
violate in the state, and that the benefits of the writ of habeas
corpus shall be open to every one who may choose, or may
have occasion to avail himself of these. The free exercise
of their religion is at the same time guaranteed to all per-
sons without exception, none moreover being obliged to
contribute to the support of any religious profession but
his own. A superior court is twice in each year to be held
in the several counties, where all causes are to be tried,
civil and criminal, other than such as may be subject to the
federal court, or as may by law be referred to inferior ju-

t Milledgeville is at present the seat of government.

\ According to the census taken in 1800, they amount-
ed to 162,686, including 59,699 slaves; and, in 1810 to
252,433, including 107,019 slaves.

§ The members of the senate are chosen annually.

II Each county sends at least one representative, and
none more than four.

GEORGIA.

699

visdictions. The judges of the supreme court, and the
attorney general, liold their commissions for three years,
and have their stated salaries, which are fixed and secured
to them by law. For the more convenient administration
of justice, the whole state is divided into two districts,*
which arc called the upper and the lower circuits. The
number of judges appointed to sit in the superior court are
twot only, to each of whom it belongs also to try causes
in the several circuits. IJesides the superior court, there
is an inferior one, viz. a court of common pleas, established
in each county, that sits twice in a year, with five judges,
Avho are appointed by the legislature. The county courts
have a jurisdiction in criminal causes, which are finally de-
termined in the superior court. There are moreover the
sheriff's court, and courts which are held by the justices of
tiie peace in every part of the state.

The religious sects of Georgia, are Baptists, Metho-
dists, Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Roman Catholics, Qua-
kers, and Jews. The two first are the most numerous, and
inliabit principally the upper part of the state. The Epis-
copalians and Presbyterians are nearly equal in number.
The Catholics and Jews have each of them one church.
There are likewise some German Lutherans, and a society
of Congregationalists.

The literature of this state maybe considered to be still
in its infancy, though the measures adopted for its improve-
ment have been such as to afford the most flattering pros-
pects of ultimate success. The charier, containing the
system of education to be followed out in it, passed in the
year 1785. A college, with ample and liberal endowments,
has been instituted at Louisville, a high and healthy part
of the country, near to the centre of the state, and provision
made for the institution of an academy in every county, all
which seminaries, in subordination to the principal, are to
be supported from the same funds, and considered as the
parts and members of one great establishment for the in-
struction of youth.

In the low country of Georgia, in the vicinity of the rice
swamps, bilious complaints and fevers have been observed
to be pretty general, especially during the months of July,
August, and September, which for that reason are called
the sickly months. Pleurisies, peripneumonies, and other
inflammatory disorders, occasioned by sudden and violent
colds, are prevalent, and not unfrequently fatal during the
winter and spring. In the county of Wilkes, witliin a
mile and a half of the town of Washington, there is a
medicinal spring, which is said to be a sovereign remedy
for the scurvy, scrofulous disorders, consumptions, gouts,
and various other diseases. There is likewise at the dis-
tance from the sea of about 90 miles, on the way towards
the mountains, a very remarkable bank of oyster shells.
This runs in a direction nearly parallel with the sea-coast,
in three distinct ridges, contiguous to each other, which
together occupy a space of seven miles in breadth. These
commence at the river Savannah, and have been traced to
the northern branches of the Altamaha, furnishing, where-
ever they pass, an inexhaustible source of wealth and con-
venience to the neighbouring inhabitants, in the lime which
they derive from them for building, for the making of in-
digo, or for other useful purposes.

The oi;iginal population of the Georgian state consists
chiefly of Muskogee or Creek Indians, Semiiiolas, Chac-
taws, Chicasaws, and Cherokees. The Muskogees have
their residence principally in its middle parts, being the
most numerous of the Indian tribes within the limits of the

* The state is divided into four districts.

t The superior court is composed of four judges.

Indian states. Their numbers have been estimated to be
little short of 20,000, of which a third is said to consist ol
fighting men. The country in winch they are settled is
hilly but not mountainous, the soil fruitiul in a hifh de-
gree, and well watered, their principal towns being situ-
ated in the Latitude of about .32°, and in from 86"^ to 87'
W. Longitude. The Seminolas inliabit a level Mat country
on the Apalachicola and Flint rivers, possessed of similar
advantages. The other tribes which liave been mention-
ed, are found chiefly in the western parts of this stale,
much of wliich is still in their possession. Of these, the
Chactaws, or flat heads, occupy a very fine and extensive
tract of hilly country, with large and fertile plains, be.
tween the Alibama and Mississippi rivers. The Chica-
saws are settled on tlic head branches of the Tombegbec
and Yazoo rivers, in the northwest corner of the state,
wheie they have an extensive plain country, tolerably well
watered from springs, and of a pretty good soil. The po-
pulation of the former of these nations has been estimated
at from 12,000 to 15,000 souls; and they have upwards ol
40 towns and villages. The number of persons in the lat-
ter nation has been reckoned to be about 2000. They have
seven towns, of which the central one is in Lat. 34" 23',
and in Long, about 90° 10' W.

It was in the year 1732, that the measure was meditated
in England, of settling a colony between the rivers Savan-
nah and Altamaha, with a view as well to the accommoda-
tion of poor people in Great Britain and Ireland, as for
affording further security to Carolina. It was proposed
for this purpose to raise a fund, which should be expend-
ed in the conveyance of indigent emigrants to that part of
America, free of expence. The plan was countenanced
by humane and opulent men, through whose contributions
and exertions it was quickly carried into effect. On ap-
plication to his Majesty George II. letters patent were ob-
tained June 9th, 1732. In November of the same year,
accordingly, 116 settlers were embarked for Georgia, un-
der the conduct of General Oglethorpe, one of the trus-
tees, and an active promoter of the measure ; and soon
afler their arrival, in the beginning of the year 1733, the
spot on which Savannah now stands was marked out as
the most proper for the foundation of the settlement. Here,
therefore, they proceeded to erect a small fort, with a num-
ber of huts for their accommodation and defence. A treaty
of amity was concluded between them and their neigh-
bours the Creek Indians, and various regulations were
framed for their future government. In the formation of
these, the general principle assumed was, that each inha-
bitant was to be considered as at once a planter and a sol-
dier, who was of course to hold his portion of land as a
military fief, and to appear in arms when the occasion re-
quired it for the public defence. That large tracts of ground
might not accordingly, in the course of time, come to be oc-
cupied by the same person, nor the inconveniences be felt
which in other colonies had been found to arise from great
possessions, it was thought proper to limit the allowance
of land for each family to 50 acres, which allotment, or
any part of it, they were not to be permitted to mortgage,
nor to dispose of by will to their female issue. It was pro-
vided, that no man should depart from the province with-
out a licence. Such pans of the lands granted by the trus-
tees as should not be cleared, fenced round with a warm
fence, or pales six feet high, within eighteen years from
the dale of the grant, were to revert to the trustees for
the benefit of the colony. It was forbidden to use negroes,
to import rum, or to trade with the Indians, unless in the
case of a special licence being previously obtained for
that purpose.

In consequence of the sentiments that came to be en-
4T 2

700

GEORGIA.

teilained at home, respecliiif; tlie probable anticipated
future importance of the selUcnicnt in Georgia, parlia-
ncMtary aid liad at diflereiit times been granted to pro-
mote tlie objects of ibe corporation. Additional settlers
also were obtained, and these, for the most part, of a
character and habits better adapted to the situation than
those who had been at first introduced into it. The new
comers were chiefly persons inured to labour and fatigue,
from the Highlands of Scotland and from Gcimany, not
like those who had preceded them, the idle and useless
overflowings of cities and large towns. The accession of
this valuable population was such, that within the space
of three years, Georgia had received above 400 British
subjects, and about 170 foreigners. Adventurers from
Scotland, Germany, and Switzerland, still continued to
follow their countrymen, contributing to sustain the hopes
which the trustees had formed as to the permanence and
prosperity of the colony. Several towns were I)uilt ; and
in 1739, more than 600 people were employed in trading
with the Indians for furs and skins. It was eventually how-
ever found, that the system of government which had
been formed for this colony, how |)ure soever might be
the intentions of those by whom it was prepared, and
how wise soever in their estimation, its provisions were in
effect highly injudicious, and altogether incompatible with
its prosperity. The alterations which it was judged neces-
sary to introduce into it, though beneficial so fur as they
■went, were not yet sufficient to render it even tolerably
supportable ; aiid the wars in which the province was in-
volved with the Spaniards and Indians, and the frequent
insurrections among the people themselves, added still
farther to the general confusion and wretchedness.

In 1741, it was notified to the English govermnent, that
of the number of persons that had migrated to Georgia,
scarcely a sixth part remained ; and those who still conti-
nued, were so much discouraged, that they seemed to be
desirous of fixing themselves in more favourable situa-
tions. The distressed and languishing state of the pro-
vince was, by repealed complaints, represented to the
trustees, who, weary of their irksome and thankless
chirge, at length, in the year, 1752, surrendered their
charter to the king, and the province became a royal
government. Notwithstanding the cxpence which had
been incurred on account of it, the vestiges of cultivation
were at this period scarcely perceptible in its forests ; and
the whole of the anual exports did not exceed 10,000/. ster-
ling. It still continued for several years more to struggle
vmder many difficulties, arising from the want of credit
with friends, and the frequent molestations of enemies.
The benefits of the peace of Paris, which took place in
1763, were, however, very sensibly felt here: the exports
of that year were but about 27fiOQl. ; those of 1""3 were
little short of 122,000/., while the population and agricul-
ture of the state were proportionably increased. Georgia
suffered a good deal during the war with Biitain ; and
even after that was concluded, its progress in improve-
ment yet lay under some checks and iriterruptions, from
the disputes and hostilities in which it was involved with
the Creek Indians ; but a treaty of peace and friendship
having, in 1790, been entered into with that nation, it has
since been rapidly advancing in all public prosperity. In
consequence of an act of the legislature passed in 1795,
twenty millions of acres of the Georgia western territory
were sold to certain companies, and the purchase money,
amounting to 500,000 dollars, was paid into the state trea-
sury. This land was afterwards sold at an advanced price
by the original purchasers, to various persons, principally
of the middle and eastern states. This transaction pro-
duced a great degree of discontent : the ferment, however.

afterwards subsided, without any thing having taken place
which should shake the confiilence of the purchasers as
to their security, and the goodness of their title to the
lands which they had thus acquired. Sec Morse's Ameri-
ca?: (ifoifra/ihy. (k)

GEOHfilA, a country of Asia, situated between the
Caspian and the Black Seas. Under this name were for-
merly comprehended also tlie stales of Mingrclia and Im-
mcrtia ; hut it is now exclusively applied to ihe country
made up of the four provinces of Cartucl, Kaket, Kisik,
and the Georgian provinces of Armenia. Within these
limits are contained the ancient Ibciia, with a pan of Ar-
menia and Albania. On the north it is bounded by Mount
Caucasus; on the north-wisl by a desert which separates
it from Immertia ; on the west and south by the Karaga-
tich mountains and Mossian hills, which divide it from the
Turkish and Persian provinces of Akiska and Erivan ; and
on the east by Daghestan and Shirvan. The face of the
country is mountainous, diversified with extensive plains,
and watered by innumerable rivers. The vallies are ex-
ceedingly fertile: cotton, and the finest European fruit-
trees, grow here spontaneously; and rice, wheat, millet,
hemp, and flax, are raised almost without culture. The
hills are covered with forests of pine, oak, ash, beech,
chesnuts, walnuts, and elms entwined with vines, which
grow perfectly wild, and produce vast quantities of grapes.
The rivers abound with the most delicious fish; jioultry
and game are frequent in the woods, and the pastures feed
a great number of cattle. The air of this province is dry,
very warin in summer, and very cold in winter. The fine
weather commences in the month of May, and continues
till November. Upon the whole, this may perhaps be
truly characleriscd as one of the most beautiful and highly
favoured regions in the world. Even the natives appear
to approach nearer to perfection than those of other coun-
tries. The men are tall and elegantly formed, while the
grace and beauty of the women are celebrated over all the
east.

Of the four provinces which have been mentioned as
constituting ihe stale of Georgia, that of Cartuel, or as it
is sometimes called, Kartel, is on the east divided from
Kakct by the Araqui ; to the west it borders on Immer-
tia ; to the south on Akiska and Armenia ; and northward
it extends as far as the highest ridges of the Caucasus. It
occupies both the ])anks of the Kur, and is known by the
names of Semo or Higher Kartel, and Zemo or Lower
Kartel. This is the province of the Georgian slate which
corresponds to the greater part of the ancient Iberia. The
fine cities and handsome public buildings, with which an-
ciently thai province was decorated, no longer remain. In
consequence of the repeated revolutions to which it has
been subjected since that p.riod, and parliculaily th.rough
the destructive inroads of the Lesghaes, the face of the
country has been completely changed, and its population
almost exterminated. The few inhabitants who remain,
are, as in ancient limes, to be found in the southern and
middle mountains of eastern Caucasus. They have their
houses almost on the very tops of the hills, and live chiefly
by agriculture.

The province of Kakct begins at the end of the plain,
30 miles north-east of Teflis, near one of the front ranges
of Mount Caucasus, and is bounded on the south by the
adjoining province of Kisik. To the south of this latter
province is the river Kur, and on the north and east it is
encircled by the Alasan, which separates it from Shirvan
and Daghestan. These provinces having formerly become
subject to the King of Armenia, were given in fief to the
noble Jewish tribe of Bargarut, from whom, it is said, are
descended the Wallees of Geprgia, Immertia, and the il-

GEORGIA.

701

histrious house of Bagralion in Russia. Kakct was (he
only province wliicli withstood the invasions of the 'raitais
aiici Lesi^haes ; hriice it is covered with tlic I'uins of villa-
ges, fortresses and towns. The ])oi)ulation, iiotwithstaiid-
inq;, is considerable. 'I'ogetlicr with the adjacent province
of Kisik, it is stated to have contained, in the time of Uci-
i>eij!;s, who visited, and has Riven an account of these
countries, to the amount of 18,fi00 families. The nuniljers
liavc since, it is said, considerably increased, especially
since the provinces fell under the doininion of Russia, the
j^ovcrnment of which has been at pains to repair the in-
juries sustained from the incursions of the neighbouring
predatory tribes, and to collect the peo])lc from their scat-
tered habitations. The province of Kaket is greatly in
want of water, and the villages are often at such a distance
from the springs, that the natives are under the necessity of
alleviating their thirst by fruits or wine. This, however,
does not afTect the fertility of the country, as, unlike seve-
ral of the other parts of this state, the gardens and fields
here require no irrigation.

The Georgian province of Armenia has the hills of Ka-
ragatich to the west, the Mossian or Sissian hills to the
south, and towards the north-east it is watered by the river
Kur. This is the best peopled and most flourishing of the
provinces of this state, and it contains several towns. It
lias been long celebrated for its mines of gold, silver, lead,
iron, and copper, as well as for its quarries of marble and
jasper, the principal of which are those of Quocsch and
Tamblutt.

The most noted of the Georgian rivers are the Kur, for-
merly known by the name of the Cyrus, which has its origin
near Akiska. The Araqui, which rises near to the gates
of Caucasus, flows to the south, and after dividing the
southern range of Mount Caucasus into two equal parts,
falls into the Kur at the town of Tagetta ; the Kisia or
Nachalir, which originates in the mountains of Karagatich ;
the river Alosan, the same which Strabo mentions under
the name of Auxan; it traverses the province of Kaket,
and forms part of the boundary between the states of
Georgia and Shirvan.

The capital of Georgia is Tcflis. This city lies in lati-
tude 42° 45' N. being at the distance from St Petersburg!!
of 2627 versts. It is situated on the N. W. side of the great
])Iain at Karajoes, at the foot of a hill, and occupies both
banks of the Kur, over which there is a bridge. It is call-
ed Thelestokar, (warm town,) from the warm baths in its
neighbourhood, and was founded, according to an old in-
scription in the citadel, by a certain prince Surang, in the
year 1053. Before it was taken by Aga Mahomed Khan
in 1797, it contained 4000 houses, and 22,000 inhabitants.
The greater jjart of the houses are still standing, and are
neatly built ; but the population has suffered a reduction of
not less than 7000 souls. While Georgia was an indepen-
dent state, Teflis was for many years the residence of its
prince Heraclius. It is at present that of the Russian go-
vernor and commander in chief, who has at all times a large
force stationed in the city. These troops are quartered in
the houses of the inhabitants, a circumstance which is far
from being agreeable to them, and may lead to the most
unpleasant consequences, as, having the same ideas with re-
gard to their women as are most generally prevalent among
the eastern nations, they are naturally inimical, in an ex-
treme degree, to any arrangement, which may have the ef-
fect of exposing them to the view and to the familiarity of
strangers. This is the only place in Georgia which is wor-
thy of the name of city. There are, however, several other
towns and villages, some of which, if of little importance in
tiK niselves, have acquired an interest as being the chief
military positions occupied by the Russians in the course

of their recent rapid encioacliincnts towards the frontiers
of Persia. In the province of Kakct, and about 16 miles
to the N. E. of Teflis, is Mandroiii, an opulent and well in-
habited town. Kudala, Mclani, and Magara, in the same
pro\incc, though once flourishing cities, are now reduced
to the state of wretched villages, (iori is a small town
near tl-.e source of the Kur. Surain is situated on the
western frontier of Kartel towards Kariska, and stands on
the river Surmela, being defended by a strong hill fort. In
a jilain near the junction of the Kur and the Arakui, are
the remains of the city of 'i'sgetta, which lias a most advan-
tageous position on the frontiers of Armenia, Albania, and
Iberia. It is supposed to have been founded by the Greeks
or Romans, and to have been the place chosen by Pompey
for keeping in check the restless spirit of the Albanians,
after that people had become subject to Rome. Accord-
ing to the Georgian histories and traditions, it was also the
most ancient city in the kingdom at the time tliat it was
converted to Christianity. Anamer, seated likewise on the
banks of the Arakui, contains nothing remarkable but an
old stone church, and a convent in ruins. Akdall stands
on the river Tebete, a city once famed for its beautiful
buildings, and where are still to be seen the splendid re-
mains of the palace of Prince Allodius. Old and New
Kremm are well situated towns, of which, how ever, the
population is now greatly diminished. The fortress of Tel-
low is inipi-egnable to an enemy unprovided with artillery.
Bembeek is a small town, cajiital of a district of the same
name, situated in the southern part of the state. About 70
miles farther to the westward, is Gaucha. Both of these,
from their contiguity to the Persian province of Erivan,
are principal military stations of the Russians in Georgia.
The provinces into which the Georgian state is divided
formerly constituted different principalities, which were
governed by their own princes, in subordination to the Per-
sian empire. Amidst the shocks that were afterwards sus-
tained by that power, these took the opportunity of render-
ing themselves independent ; and the authority, which had
been for a time lodged in separate hands, was ultimately
engrossed by Prince Heraclius alone of the Kakhettian
dynasty. This prince or czar, who is celebrated for his
bravery and other great qualities, as well as for the impor-
tant part which he acted during the disturbances that agi-
tated Persia after the death of Tamas Kuli-Khan, submit-
ted, in the year 1783, to the Russian empire, thus volunta-
rily sacrificing, for the sake of protection, that independence
which his exploits seemed to have secured. Notwith-
standing, however, his close alliance with this power, he
was forced, in 1787, to renounce his connection with it, and
to acknowledge himself tributary to the Porte. iSIore re-
cently the Russian interest has again prevailed, and the
sons of Prince Heraclius having been deprived of their in-
heritance, the whole of this delightful province became
subject to the dominion of the Russian emperor. In Fe-
bruary 1801 it was, by a public ukase, united to his do-
minions. On the accession of Alexander, the same year,
the annexation was confirmed, and next year (1802) for-
mally announced to the Georgians. The provinces of Kar-
tel and Kaket have, since that period, been divided into five
districts, viz. Ghori, Thelawi, Uuschelhi,Lori, and Ssigna-
chi. The presidencies in the courts of judicature are en-
trusted to native Georgians, and civil causes decided ac-
cording to the laws of the country. In 1803 Prince Zizi-
anow took the command of the Russian foices in Georgia,
and soon after reduced the Sesgians of Belucan and Dscha-
ri. It was in this year that the widow of King Gt.orgi,the
last of the Georgian sovereigns, stabbed the Russian major-
general Lasarew, when impartuigto her tiie emperor's com-
mand to repair to Russia. In 1804 Gandscha was taken

702

GKOrCIA.

by storm, and Solomon, King of Imerethi, placed himself
and liis dominions under the prolcction of Russia. About
the same time, a small force was detached to occupy Min-
grclia, whicli had suhniitlcd in 1803.

An expedition was iimlertaken against the Persian pro-
vince of Armenia, and Piinre Zizianow, afu-r some impor-
tant successes, formed the blockade of Erivan. The Per-
sians, however, being suddenly and strongly reinforced,
compelled him to abandon the enterprise, and to confine
his future operations to the frontiers of Georgia. He chas-
tised the Ossetcs, and added Ncichi and Schuschi to the
imperial dominions.

The annual revenue of the province is 800,000 rubles,
whicli is partly expended in the salaries of civil officers.
The surplus has been hitherto generously consigned to the
relief of the most necessitous of the inhabitants.

The Georgians, or, as they are sometimes called, the
Grusinians, have avoided all commixture with the Tartars,
and have ever distinguished themselves as the most nume-
rous and powerful body of the mountaineers of Caucasus.
Their manners and customs resemble in some degree those
of their neighbours the Persians. They are brave but ig-
norant, and indolent in the extreme, scarcely earning them-
selves a subsistence, even in their very rich and productive
country. They arc chiefly in repute as soldiers, in which
respect they are, perhaps, not surpassed by any other of
the Asiatic nations. They excel particularly in the use of
the bow. The only virtue of the men, however, is said to
be courage, while the women, so much praised for their
beauty, love to adorn themselves with paint, and are not in
high estimation for their modesty. Both men and women
are said to be addicted to intoxication, and to indulge freely
in the use of strong liquors.

It is a principle established by the laws of war, recognised
in Turkey, that any revolted province should be given up
to pillage, and the inhabitants reduced to a state of slavery.
In consequence of this custom, which has been generally
prevalent throughout Asia, the market of Constantinople
has been supplied with slaves from Georgia and Circassia.
Those supplies have likewise been, in great part, furnished
through the Leaghai Tartars, who, situated between the
Caspian and Black Seas, and in the vicinity of both those
states, are continually at war with them. They carry over
to the eastern coast of the Black Sea, the slaves whom they
take in the course of their incursions, and sell them to the
the Turkish merchants, who come thither at stated times
with a view to the traffic. The inhabitants of this same
coast, likewise, seize on their countrymen in the neigh-
bouring villages, and sell them. Children also have some-
times been sold by their parents, and wives by their hus-
bands.

Georgia has but little trade. A pait of the wine which
is made in the country is sold into Armenia and Persia,
especially to Ispahan, for the king's table ; and silk forms
a considerable article of commerce with Erzeroom, though
the inhabitants are unacquainted with the best method of
winding it.

The nobility, which are here numerous, and possess an
unlimited power of life and death over their vassals, treat
them with the utmost harshness, levying a tax on the farm-
er to the amount of at least half the produce. This system,
in addition to the sanguinary irruptions from the neighbour-
ing states or tribes, has naturally had the effect of checking
the prosperity of the country, and wasting its population.
The number of its inhabitants is said not to amount to more
now than about 320,000 souls.

The religion of Georgia, when anciently it formed one

distinct and independent kingdom, was Christianity : with
this Mahometanism has, since the year 1639, been blended,
the king of Persia having at that time conquered the coun-
try, and divided it into provinces, obliging the people to
embrace the Mahometan faith. From the lime that tliey
have been under the protection of Russia, they liave again,
however, avowed themselves Christians, following in part
the rites of the Armenian, but chiefly those of the Greek
church. They are represented, indeed, as not being very
tenacious as to those matters. The rest of the population
consists of Jews, Tartars, and Russians, each tribe having
its peculiar dialect. See Kinneir's Geografihical Memoir of
the Persian Emfiire ; Klaproth's Travels; and Tooke'3
View of the Russian Km fiire, vol. 1. (k)

GEORGIA, (New or South,) an island in the south At-
lantic ocean, discovered by La Roche in 1675 ; seen by Mr
Guyot, in the ship Leon, in 1756; and explored with much
attention, in 1775, by Captain Cook, who named it Georgia,
in honour of his majesty. This island is situated between
53° 57' and 54° 57' south latitude, and between 35" 34' and
38° 13' west longitude. It extends south-east by east, and
north-west by west, being in that direction 31 leagues long,
while its greatest breadth is about ten leagues. In the ap-
proach to this island by the last mentioned navigator, there
was first discovered in south latitude 54°, and west longi-
tude 38° 23', a high rock of no great extent, to which was
given the name of Willis's Isle. In the vicinity of this,
there were some other rocky islets ; and to the eastward
about two miles, nearer to the main, was perceived a sepa-
rate island, which, from the great numbers of birds that
were seen upon it, received the name of Bird Isle. This,
which was not so high, was of greater extent than Willis's
Isle. The passage between these two islands having been
cleared, and after a progress along the coast, first for about
nine miles in the direction of east by north, and then for
eleven miles more on an east and east-southerly direction.
Cape Buller was gained, and at the distance of four or five
miles from it, a bay to which was then given the name of
Possession Bay, situated in 54° 5' south latitude, and 37°
1 8' west longitude. The land in which this bay lies was at
first judged to be part of a great continent, but upon coast-
ing round the whole country, it was found to be an island
about 70 leagues in circumference. The first projecting
point which had been fallen in with, in making this circuit,
was one in the immediate vicinity of Bird Island, to which
had been given the name of Cape North. Also between
Cape Buller and Possession Bay there intervenes the Bay
of Isles, so named from several small isles lying in and be-
fore it. To the projecting land, which next occurred after
passing Possession Bay, and which lies from Cape Buller
at the distance of 11 or 12 leagues, was given the name of
Cape Saunders, beyond which is a pretty large bay which
was called Cumberland Bay. In several parts in the bot-
tom of this, as also in some other bays lying between Pos-
session Buy and Cape Saunders, there were vast tracts of
snow or of ice not yet broken loose. Further onwards a
jutting point, which terminated in a round hillock, was
named Cape Charlotte, the bay to the westward of it Royal
Bay, and its most westerly point Cape George. This last
is also the east point of Cumberland Bay, lying from Cape
Saunders in the direction of south-east by east, at the dis-
tance of seven leagues. Its distance from Cape Charlotte
is six leagues. In the direction from Cape Charlotte of
south by east, and eight leagues distant, is an island which
received the appellation of Cooper's Isle. This is a rock
of considerable height, and about five miles in circuit. The
coast between tliis and the just named cape forms a large

GER

703

bay, which was denominated Sandwich Bay. At Cooper's
Isle the main coast takes a south-west direction, for the
space of lour or five leagues, to a point which obtained
the name of Cape Disappointment. OtT this there are
three small isles, the southernmost of which is green,
low, and flat, and lies at the distance from the cape of one
league. Still further onward in the same direction, and at
a distance of about nine leagues, there occurs an island
which was named Pickersgill Island, beyond which a little
way a point came in sight, that exactly united with the part
of the coast that had been first seen, and from which the
departure had been taken in the circumnavigation, by which
the insular character of Georgia was now fully proved.

From what was observed of Georgia in the progress
around it, it would appear to abound with bays and har-
bours, particularly on the north-east coast. These, how-
ever, from the great quantity of ice, either within them-
selves, or in the vicinity, must, for the greatest part of the
year, be rendered inaccessible, or at least, in respect of the
occasional breaking up of the ice-clifl's, they can afford but
a very insecure station for ships. The whole coast in ge-
neral, particularly the south-western parts of it, were ob-
served, notwithstanding that it was then the height of sum-
mer, to be in a manner wholly covered, even to the depth
of many fathoms, with frozen snow. The sides even, and
craggy summits of the lofty mountains, were cased with
snow and ice, while the coast at the bottom of the bays was
terminated by a wall of ice of considerable height, and the
quantity of snow that lay in the vallies was quite incredi-
ble. There seemed reason to believe, that though a great
deal of ice might be formed upon or around the island
during the winter, which in spring might be partly broken
off and dispersed over the sea, yet so little of the quantity
that was actually seen there could be so produced, that
there must be somewhere, at no great distance, a much
more extensive tract of land, though not then discovered,
or otherwise the ice must be formed independently of any
connection with land. The dangerous nature of the navi-
gation in the circumstances alluded to may easily be con-
ceived. Indeed it is mentioned that from the ice-cliffs, si-
tuated at the head, and on each side of one of the bays,
pieces were continually breaking off, and floating out to
sea, and that the noise from a great fall that took place
while our navigators were there, was like that of dis-
charged cannon.

It is stated as a remarkable circumstance in regard to
this island, that upon the whole of its coast there was not
observed any where a single river, or even so much as a
stream of fresh water. The conclusion, to which this ap-
pearance not unreasonably led, was, that there are in the
country no perennial springs, while the interior parts, from
their great elevation, never enjoy heat enough to admit of
the snow being melted in such quantity as to produce a
river or stream of water. Indeed, it is on the coast alone
that there is, at any season, a sufficiency of warmth to melt
the snow, and that too only on the north-east side ; for in
the other parts, not only are the sun's rays in a great mea-
sure excluded by reason of the uncommon height of the
moimtains, but even the cold south winds, to which they
are so much exposed, might almost of themselves be suffi-
cient to prevent this taking place.

So far as the interior parts of Georgia were observed,
the appearance which they exhibited was found to be not
less savage and horrible than that of its coast. The wild
rocks raised their lofty summits till they were lost in the
clouds, while the vallies lay covered with everlasting snow.
Not the vestige of a tree, or even of the minutest shrub,
was to be seen. The only vegetation that was discovered,

was a coarse slrong-bladcd grass, growing in tufts, wild bur-
net, and a plant like moss, which sprung from the rocks.

Of animals, seals or sea bears were observed to be pret-
ty numerous ; the shores, indeed, even swarming with their
cubs. There were also seen several flocks of penguins, of
a very large size; some of them that were killed weighing
not less than from 29 to 38 pounds. These were of the
class of penguins which had previously been noticed at
Falkland islands. The oceanic birds were albatrosses,
common gulls, likewise that sort of them to which has
been given the name of Port Egmont hens, terns, siiags,
divers, the new white bird, and a small bird like those of
the Cape of Good Hope, called yellow birds, which were
found to be most delicious food. The only land birds that
were observed, were a few small larks. No quadrupeds
were seen, nor any vestige met with of the existence in
the island of any, except some dung, which it was judged
might have proceeded from a fo.K or some such animal.
Though the lands, or rather tlie rocks, bordering on the
sea-coast, were not like the inland parts, entirely covered
with snow, the only vegetation that could be seen on the
clear places, was the grass already mentioned. These
rocks seemed to contain iron. They are of blackish hori-
zontal slate, probably approaching to hornblende. See
Cook's Second Voyage, vol. ii. (k)

GEORGIUM SiDus. See Astronomy. The new dis-
coveries relative to this planet will be found under Uranus,
the name which is now universally adopted among astrono-
mers to designate this celestial body.

GERA, is a town of Saxony, and capital of the estates
of the count of Reuss. It is situated in a pleasant meadow
on the right bank of the river Elster. The town, which is
well built, was destroyed by a dreadful fire, but has been
rapidly recovering its importance. The manufactures of
this town are so numerous and flourishing, that it has re-
ceived the name of Little Lei/isic. They consist principal-
ly in woollen stuffs, and of stuff's made of wool and silk,
which are well known by the name of stuffs of Gera. The
musical instruments manufactured here by M. Frcdcrici,
have been greatly esteemed. The house and residence of
the Count of Reuss is near the town. The baths of Ren-
nebourg are about IJ leagues from Gera, and are situated
in a charming country, in which both nature and art have
combined their embellishments.

The meadow on which the town stands, is surrounded
on the east and the west by fertile mountains, and profitable
forests, which produce plenty of wood both for carpentry
and fuel, as well as excellent building and paving stones,
lime, gypsum, and other valuable minerals. Game and
fish abound in the neighbourhood. Gera is a great tho-
roughfare,-as the great roads of Leipsic pass through the
town.

GERMAIN EN Laye, St. a town of France, in the de-
partment of the Seine and the Oise, situated on high ground
on the western baidi of the Seine. The chateau or palace,
which was erected by Francis I. and enlarged by several
succeedinq: kings, is an ugly building, surrounded with a
fosse, and built chiefly of brick. It has for some time
been used as a military school; but in 1814, when vi-
sited by the writer of this article, this establishment was
removed to some other place. On one side of the palace
is the front of a superb church, which has never been com-
pleted. The view from the terrace is most extensive and
magnificent, the ground before it up to Maisons sloping
beautifully down to the river. The principal manufactures
in this town are those of leather and skins, similar to those
of Liege and Rheims. Population 9000.

704.

GERMANY.

Germany is divided among siicli a iniinijer of sovereigns,
native and foreii^n, and its natnral boundaries are so ob-
scurely marked, that it is difficult, and at first sight seems
iiTiproper, to describe it as a single country. But wiien it
is considered, that, in respect to name, language, and in-
habitants, it possesses a unity of character, Irom which it
derives a fair and solid claim to occupy a separate place
among the divisions of I'lirope, and that although its ex-
treme limits are not easily ascertained, the great mass of
which it is composed is sufficiently identified, we trust wc
shall be justified in making it the subject of a separate
though short article.

In order, however, that this article may not repeat or an-
ticipate what the reader will naturally look for under the
heads of Austria, Bavakia, Hanover, Prussia, Saxo-
ny, and the other states of Germany, we shall confine it to
the three following points: I. A brief description of an-
cient Germany, and of the manners, &c. of its inhabitants;
II. The principal revolutions and events of the Germanic
empire, as separate and distinguished from the respective
histories of Austria, Prussia, £<c. ; and lastly, an outline of
the statistics of Germany.

I. Ancient Germany was divided on the west by the
Rhine, from the Gallic provinces of the Roman empire ;
and on the south by the Danube, from the Illyrian pro-
vinces of the same empire. It was divided and protected
from Dacia or Hungary, by a ridge of hills called the Car-
pathian mountains, which rose from the Danube. The
Hercynian FcH-est, at that time reckoned impenetrable, and
a frozen ocean, described by the ancients as lying beyond
the Baltic, if by it they did not mean the Baltic itself, were
the limits of Germany on the north and north-west. On
the east the boundary was still more faintly marked, or
rather, it was frequently varying and confounded, by the
mixture of the wavering and confederate tribes of the
Germans and Sarmatians. From this description of the
boundaries of ancient Germany, it will be seen, that, inde-
pendently of the province westward of the Rhine, which
appears to have been a colony of Germans settled within
the limits of Gaul, it extended itself over a third part of
Europe.

Our most accurate, full, and important information respect-
ing ancient Germany, is derived from Tacitus. This author
first mentions two colonies, the Helvelii and Boii, which
Iiad returned from Gaul into Germany. The Vangiones
he describes as living on the west side of the Rhine ; and
the Batavi, in the isle formed by the outlets of that river.
Beyond the people between the head of the Danube and
the Rhine, he places the Catli ; and further up on the
Rhine, the Usipii, &c. ; next the Bructeri ; behind them
the Dulgubini ; and in front the Frisii. After this he men-
tions, that the coast of Germany turns to the north, which
it does at Friczeland and Groningcn. This circumstance
sufficiently determines the positions of the tribes hilheito
mentioned. Next he mentions the Chauci ; then the Che-
russi and Fosi ; the remains of the Cimbri, so formidable
and numerous before the time of Tacitus, but when he
v.'rote ficrva civitas, seem to have inhabited the country
near the mouth of the Elbe. The SuevL, divided into
many tribes, occupied the greatest part of Germany, viz.
all from the Danube to the ocean, south and north; and
from the Elbe to the Vistula, west and east. The first
tribe were the Semnones, who inhabited Brandenberg;
then tlic Eongobardi, in Eunenberg. Seven small tribes

follow next, who seem to have occupied the peninsula of
Jutland. Among these were the Angli. Having thus pro-
ceeded to the utmost north of the west parts of Germany,
Tacitus proceeds to the description of the nations along
the banks of the Danube : the principal of which were the
Hermundurii; then the Xarisci about Nuremberg; the
Marcomanni, whose country anciently reached from the
Rhine to the head of the Danube, and to the Neckcr, but
who afterwards went and settled in Bohemia and Moravia,
and some of them in Gaul, wdience they forced the Boii to
return into Germany. The Quadi were situated next to
Bohemia, extending from the Danube to Moravia, and the
northern part of Austria. After mentioning the remotest
nations in this direction, Tacitus returns northward, in-
forming us that a large chain of mountains divided Suevia,
beyond which were the Eygii, consisting of many nations.
They inhabited the present Silesia; above these were the
Gotthones, at the mouth of the Vistula; next from thence,
on the ocean, were the Rugii, in Rugen ; then the Lemovii,
who appear to have dwelt to the west of the Rugii, and
hence probably near Eubec. After this Tacitus proceeds to
the Sfiiones, who, by most geographers, are considered as
the Swedes, but as Pinkerton contends, more probably the
inhabitants of the Danish islands in the Baltic. After the
Suiones, Tacitus passes to the Estii, whom he describes
as situated on the right hand, as you sail up the Suevicum
Marc, or probably in the peninsula beyond the present
Dantzic. The Sitones seem to have been the present
Swedes; and the Fenni, the inhabitants of Livonia. Such,
according to Tacitus, were the principal tribes that inha-
bited ancient Germany in his time.

The ancient Germans were distinguished by their blue
eyes, red hair, and large stature. Their children were
always kept naked and dirty ; every mother suckled her
own infants, and did not commit them to the care of maid-
servants or nurses. There was no distinction in the mode
of rearing the master and slave. They lived among the
same cattle, and lay on the same ground, till age caused
them to be separated, and superior valour marked out the
fiee born. They were not permitted to marry early in
life; the more numerous a person's kinsmen and relations
by marriage were, the more comfortable and respectable
was his old age : it was no advantage, but rather consider-
ed a misfortune and disgrace, to be childless. The uncle,
by the mother's side, regarded his nephews with the same
affection as their father : every man's children were his
heirs and successors, without any testament : if there were
no issue, the brothers of the deceased inherited the pro-
perty, and then his uncles, by his father's or mother's side.
The ancient Germans were utterly ignorant of arts and
agriculture. Tacitus expressly says, that in his time they
had no cltle:, ; and though Ptolemy reckons up 90 places,
which he calls cities, in all piobability they were only rude
fortifications, eicctetl to secure the women, children, and
cattle, while the men were engaged in warfare. They bad
not even regular and coimected villages, but each individual
fixed his dwelling where it suited his convenience, or pleas-
ed his fancy. Neither stones, nor bricks, nor tiles, were
employed in erecting their habitations. They were equal-
ly rude and ill supplied with respect to their government.
The clothing used by all the Germans was a loose mantle,
fastened with a clasp, or, when that could not be procured,
with a thorn. The rich, however, sometimes were cloth-
ed in a garment, girt close, and shewing the shape of every

GERMANY.

705

limb. The tribes ubo dwelt towards tlic north clotlied
themselves in furs: the dress of the women was not dif-
ferent from that of the men, except that they sometimes
wore linen robes of their own manufacture, and adorned
them with pur|)le. The principal emphjymcnt of the men,
in time of peace, consisted in huntini; the various sorts of
game, with which the forests ol Germany were plentifully
stocked : their herds of cattle formed the principal object
and source of their wealth. The country, thou.u^h consider-
ably varied, was in general covered with woods, or de-
formed by marshes: and the indolence and ignorance of
the inhabitants prevented them from rendering any large
portion of it fit fur the growth of corn. Gold, silver, and
iron, were extremely scarce : the scarcity of iron appear-
ed from their weapons, which, for the most part, were
spears tipt with a short and narrow piece of iron. With
this spear, and with a shield, their cavalry went to battle.
The infantry had also missile we.ipons, which they threw
to a great distance, with wonderful force and unerring aim.
Their warriors were cither naked, or dressed in a loose and
light mantle. Their shields of wood, or osier, were dis-
tinguished and ornamented with a variety of colours ; some
of the chiefs wore cuirasses, and a few helmets. Their
liorses weie slow, unmanageable, and not remarkable for
their beauty. On their cavalry, therefore, they seldom
placed much reliance in the hour of battle, their principal
strength in general consisting in their infantry, whixh were
drawn up either mixed with liie cavalry, or in several deep
columns by themselves. They fought by families and clans;
and while they fought, they were encouraged by the pre-
sence of their wives and children. Their mothers and
wives dressed their wounds ; carried refreshments to them
while fighting ; and exhorted them to deeds of bravery.
Their armies were totally devoid of discipline ; they rush-
ed to battle with dissonant shouts. Sometimes, by their na-
tive valour, they prevailed over the disciplined troops of the
Romans; but they knew not how to rally or retire ; a re-
pulse was a sure defeat ; and when they were defeated, the
destruction of their army almost inevitably followed.

The ancient Germans in general enjoyed great freedom ;
there were, however, some exceptions. Tacitus informs
lis, that among the Suiones riches were held in honour;
and that they were therefore subjects to an absolute mo-
narch, who, instead of entrusting his people with the free
use of arms, as in the rest of Germany, committed them to
the custody of slaves. The same historian mentions, that
the Sitones were sunk even below servitiide ; they obeyed
a woman ! The rest of the German tribes either had no
king, or chose their kings solely on account of their nobili-
ty and valour. The power of the former was restrained
and defined by law or usage ; and the latter commanded
rather by example than authority. As soon as a youth,
born of free parents, attained the age of manhood, he was
admitted into the general council of his nation, invested
with a spear and shield, and henceforth regarded as a mem-
ber of the commonwealth. This general council met either
at stated periods, or on sudden emergencies. To it was
entrusted the trial of public offences, the election of magis-
trates, and the concerns of peace and war. Sometimes a
select council prepared the business for the assembly ; but
the executive power was vested exclusively in the people.
The applause of the assembly was generally signified by
a loud clashing of shields and spears. The magistrates
were chosen from a regard to birth and merit. To each
was assigned a guard, and a council of one hundred per-
sons. The disposal of the landed property within their
district was absolutely vested in their hands, and they dis-
tributed it every year according to a new division ; but they
were not permitted to punish with death, to imprison, or

Vol. IX. Part II.

even to strike a private citizen, except such magistrates as
had the command in time of war. None but the priest-s
were permitted to put to death, to bind, or to scourge, in
order that punishment might appear to proceed from the
gods, and not from their fellow-citizens.

Their chiefs were desirous of being surrounded by
youths of noble birth and tried valour ; and the youths of
this description were no less anxious to be numbered among
the faithful companions of some renowned chief. In the
hour of danger, it was shameful for the chief to be sur-
passed in valour by his companions, and disgraceful to
them not to emulate the behaviour of their chief. To out-
live his faJl in battle was infamy ; while to protect his per-
son was their ])ride and honour. In time of peace, the
chiefs sent their companions into some distant country to
acquire renown. The horse, or the lance, were the re-
wards of valour and enterprise, which the companions ex-
pected and received. At his board they were entertained ;
this was their only pay.

The ancient Germans had no temples, bnt performed
their religious rites in groves, or in woods, forests, and
desert places. They adored tlie sun, the moon, the fire,
and the earth. Jupiter was worshipped under the name of
Thor, or Thoran, the Thunderer. Odin, or Wodin, ap-
pears to have been their Mars, or god of battle. The su-
preme deity was worshipped uivler the name of Esus, or
Hesus, and under the emblem of an oak, which was conse-
crated to him. They had no druids, though their priests
bore some resemblance to them in several points of their
authority. The priests exerted the influence which they
possessed over the fears and superstition of their country-
men, frequently to very useful purposes. They maintained
silence and decency in the popular assemblies ; and during
a solemn procession of the goddess Ertha, the sound of war
was hushed, quarrels were suspended, arms laid aside, and
the blessings of peace and harmony were enjoyed. In war,
too, the influence of the priests was conspicuous. The
consecrated standards, which during peace were kept con-
cealed from the vulgar eye in the recesses of the sacred
groves, were placed in the front of the battle ; and the ar-
my of their enemies was devoted in the most solemn man-
ner to the gods of war and of thunder. They were taught by
their priests, that a brave man was the favourite of their
gods ; while the coward, who had lost his shield, was de-
voted equally to contempt and banishment in this world,
and shut out from the enjoyments of a future state. A life
spent in arms, and a glorious death in battle, they were
taught assuredly led to a happy futurity, either in this or
in another world. The Germans paid the greatest atten-
tion to omens, particularly to that species of divination that
was performed by means of twigs, marked in a particular
manner, and laid on a white cloth. One presage of futuri-
ty, Tacitus says, was peculiar to them, that derived from
the neighing of horses ; but this was also much regarded
by the Persians ; and perhaps may be regarded as an addi-
tional proof of the opinion, that the Goths, and consequent-
ly the Germans, originated in Persia. Another kind of di-
vination, to which they had recourse in wars of doubtful
issue, was to oblige a captive of the enemy to fight with
one of their countrymen : the event of the war was sup-
posed to be foretold by the issue of this single combat.

The ancient Germans in general did not practise poly-
gamy ; and even when their princes married more wives
than one, it was done only for the sake of multiplying their
alliances. There was no law prohibiting divorces, but the
forceof example andcustoms rendered them extremely rare.
The adultress was whipped through the village ; and
neither wealth nor beauty could save her from this punish-
ment, or procure her a second husband. The Germans

4 U

JOG

GERMANY.

treated tlieir women very difl'ercnlly from oilier barbarous
and ancient nations; regarding tliem with esteem and con-
fidence; consulting tliem on every occa;>ion of importance,
and believing that they were inspired by the gods with a
larger portion of sanctity and wisdom than had been be-
stowed upon the men. The funerals of the Germans were
remarkable for their plainness, and freedom from pomp
and show; only the bodies of illustrious men were burnt
with certain kinds of wood. The funeral pile was not, as
among the Romans, covered with garments and rich per-
fumes. The arms of the deceased, and sometimes his
horse, were committed to the flames. A mound of earth
■was reared for his tomb : they then deposited the ashes in
urns. The passion of the ancient Germans for play was
extremely powerful. In their sober moments they applied
to dice, as to a serious and important concern, and with such
resolved and blind eagerness to gain or lose, that when
every thing else was gone, they risked their liber-ty and
persons on the last throw. The loser, though more pow-
erful or more noble than the winner, submitted to volunta-
ry slavery, and suffered himselfto be bound and sold. Still,
however, notwithstanding the strong and general preva-
lence of the spirit of gaming, some shame was attached
to it, which induced the winner , as speedily as possible, to
dispose of the slave he had acquired in this way, by com-
merce, in order to wipe ofl" the scandal of the transaction.
The slaves of the Germans were much better treated, and
of a higher class than the slaves of the Romans ; each had
his own dwelling ; he was indeed bound to give his master-,
from the fruits of his own labour, a certain i)ortion of grain,
and a certain number of cattle ; but when he had given
these, his labour was his own. As soon as the aricient
Germans rose from sleep, which they seldom did till broad
day-light, they first bathed, genei-ally in warm water; they
then sat down to their meal, each on a distinct seat, and at
a separate table. Their di'ink was a liquor extracted, with
very little art, from wheat or barley, and fermented to a
spirit. Those bordering on the Rhine, purchased wine:
their food was simple, consisting of wild apples, venison,
or coagulated milk. They were temperate in what they
ate, but quite the r-everse in what they drank.

Such were the ancient Germans, and their manners are
not only interesting, as exhibiting the state of a people be-
fore they emerged from barbarism; but the contemplation
of them is instructive in more than one respect. In the
first place, we may clearly trace among the Germans that
respect for the female sex, which so decidedly and honour-
ably distinguishes the modern nations of Europe, from the
Greeks and Romans. In the second place, even amidst
the forests of Germany, as has been frequently remarked,
the gernrs of civil liberty — of that enlightened liberty which
Britain enjoys — may be traced ; and lastly, among the same
people, evidently existed many institutions remarkably
similar to the institutions of CnrvALRY, as has already been
shewn under that article.

II. Before proceeding to a sketch of the principal revo-
lutions of the Germanic empire, it may be proper to pre-
mise a very brief and rapid view of the more prominent
and important points in the history of Germany before that
empire was formed.

The invasion of Italy by the Cimbriand Teutones; their
defeat by Marius, A. M. 3909 ; the invasion of Gaul by
the borderers of the Rhine, under Aiioristus, and their de-
feat by Julius Caesar, A. M. 3950, are almost the only
events of consequence in the hisloiy of Ger-many, before
the Christain era, of which we have any certain account.
When Caesar had completed the conquest of Gaul, he di-
•vided it into the Celtic, the Aquitanic, and the Belgic pro-
vinces ; in the last, all the German provinces on the left

side of the Rhine were comprised. In the reign of .Augus-
tus, a further division look place, and the country lyitig be-
tween the Meuse, the Scheldt, and the Rhine, was separa-
ted fronr Belgic (iaul, and formed into a province, called
Germnnia.cis-Rhonanas. In A. M. 3995, the f;rnious Ar-
minius, at the head of the Cherusci, massacred three Ro-
man legions under Varus, between the Lippe and the Kiiis.
In the third century of the Christian aera, the German
tribes formed different associations for their common de-
fence against the Romans. Of these the most remarkable
were the Saxons, comprising those who dwell on each side
of the Elbe ; the Alenianni, formed by the nations between
the Rhine, the Mayne, and the Lech ; the Erancici, by the
nations between the Rhine, the Mdyne, and the Weser ; and
the Thuringians, by the nations between the Mayne, the
Danube, and the Hartz. Charlemagne was the fiist who
united Germany under one sceptre. The name of Oriental
France, may be traced in Franconia ; the people of Hesse
and Thuringia were incorporated by a similarity of religion
and government. The Alemanni still continued the faith-
ful confederates of the Francs. The hereditary dukes of
IJavaria, having repeatedly revolted against the emperor,
their power was shared among the counts of the empire.
The north of Germany from the Rhine, and beyond the
Elbe, was still hostile and pagan ; but after a war of thirty-
three years, the Saxons were subdued and converted. Be-
yond the Elbe, the Slavi occu|)ied modern Prussia, Poland,
and Bohemia ; the first union of the last of these countries
with the Germanic body, took place under Charlemagne.
Soon after the reign of this monarch, his empire was di-
vided ; and one of his gr-andsons, Lewis the German, ob-
tained for his share all Germany from the Rhine to the
Oder, and the three cantons of Mentz, Spire, and Worms.
These were called Francia Orientalis, and afterwards the
kingdom of Germany. Till the reign of Charles the Bald,
the Teutonic or German was the language of the court.
In his time, the Romanic, afterwar-ds called the French
language, came into use. The thi-ee kingdoms were re-
united in Charles the Fat; but when he was deposed by
his subjects, they were again separated. From the con-
fines of the kingdoms of Frarrce and Germany, two new
kingdoms arose; viz. Lorraine and Burgundy; the former
compr-ehended part of Germany, viz. Alsace, the Palatinate,
Treves, Cologne, Juliers, and Liege. Soon after the dr-
vrsion of the empire of Charlemagne, the feudal system
gained a consistency and firm footing, so tiuit by degrees it
overpowered the influence and authority of his descendants.
In consequence of the weakness of the Carlovingian princes,
the dukes and counts converted their hereditary posses-
sions, which they parcelled out among their barons, and
those among their vassals. The principal of these in Ger-
many wer-e, the Dukes of Franconia, Saxony, Bavaria, Su-
abia, and Lorraine. These usurpatioris, joined to the in-
capacity of the Carlovingian princes, caused t'.ie house of
Charlemagne to decline rapidly. In Germany, on the ab-
dication of Charles the Fat, the people, from respect to the
memory of Charlemagne, placed the crown on the head of
Arnold, a natural son of Carlonian, and after the decease
of Arnold, on Louis, his son. On the death of Louis, they
elected a duke of Franconia for their king, and then a Sax-
on line of princes.

The Empei'ors of the house of Saxony reigned from A.
D. 911, to A. D. 1024. They were, Henry I. surnamed the
Fowler; Otho I. surnamed the Great; Otho II. Olho III.
and Henry II. During the ])eriod that the throne was fill-
ed by the Saxon Emperors, the limits of the empire were
extended, chiefly by Otho the Great. A portion of Gaul, to
the west of the Rhine, along the banks of the Meuse and the
Moselle, was assigned to the Germans. Between the Rhine,

GERMANY.

707

the Rhone, and the Alps, the successors of Otho acquir-
ed a vain and doubtful supremacy over the kingdoms of Bur-
gundy and Aries. In the north, the Slavonic nations of the
Elbe and Oder were subdued. The marches of Brandcn-
burt; and Sleswic were colonized by Germans; and the
Kini^ of Denmark, and the Dukes of Poland and Bohemia,
became the tributary vassals of Otho the Great. The same
monarch subdued the kingdom of Italy, delivered the pope,
and fixed the imperial crown in the name and nation of
Germany. From that era, A. D. 962, two maxims of pub-
lic jurisprudence were introduced: I. That the prince,
who was elected in the German diet, acquired from that
instant the kingdoms of Italy and Rome ; and, 2d, That he
could not legally assume the titles of Emperor and Au-
gustus, till he had received the crown from the hands of
the Pope.

With respect to the principal states which composed
Germany during the reign of the Saxon Emperors, a con-
siderable portion of that part of Germany which lies on each
side of the Mayne, was known by the various appellations
of Nova Francia, Francia Orientalis, F'rancia Teutonica,
Ostrofrancia, Austrasia, and Franconia. The space between
this part of Germany and the Upper Elbe, called Saxonia,
and Alemannia, was occupied by the Thuringians. At this
period, the Saxons had left the Oder, and were spread from
the Elbe to the Ems, reaching Francia and Thuringia on
the south. The country between the Weserand the Meuse
was called Frisia ; that between the Rhine and the Meuse,
Austrasia; the tract lying between the Rhine, the Necker,
and the Lech, was divided between the Suevi and the Ale-
manni ; and the country between the Lech, the Alps, and
the Anisa, was called Boisaria, the modern Bavaria. On
the east of this was Austria. Moravia was called Austria
Maharensis ; modern Bohemia was called Boheim.

It has already been mentioned, that in the time of Taci-
tus, the Germans did not live even in villages ; as, how-
ever, they spread themselves over the country on the west
of the Rhine, they began to inhabit villages, and even to
construct towns; so that at an early period, after the Tri-
boci, Nemetes, and Vangiones, settled in the country be-
tween the Rhine and the Vosges, the cities of Strasburg,
Spire, Mentz, and Worms, are mentioned. Under the
Francic sovereigns, cities were multiplied; and by Henry
the Fowler they were particularly encouraged by a singular
institution. From the troops stationed in Germany, he chose
eveiy ninth soldier ; the remaining eight were to sow and
till the land, and to carry the produce to the ninth, whose
business it was to build habitations for himself and his com-
panions. By degrees, the lower order of the people united
themselves to these soldiers ; and the F^mperor ordered
the courts of justice, fairs, tournaments. Sec. to be held in
ihe cities they constructed. His example was followed in
the other parts of Germany, so that in a short time it scarce-
ly contained a district of any extent which had not its city.
To each of them exclusive privileges were granted ; the
most important of which were the jus stafiule and \\\e jus
geranii ; by the former, all commodities brought into them
were exposed to public sale ; by the latter, all commodi-
ties imported or exported, were to be weighed or measur-
ed by the public weights or measures of the city, for which
it was entitled to a duty. At first, the chief magistrates
were of noble birth ; but by degrees, the chief offices were
opened to the people at large. Thus, soon after the era of
the Saxon Emperors, there were in almost every town
three different classes, — nobles, citizens, and slaves ; but,
about the beginning of the 12th century, Henry V. en-
franchised all slaves in cities who were artizans.

The emperors of the house of Franconia were called to
the throne after the Saxon emperors ; they reigned from

1027 to 1137. They consisted of Conrad II. who conquer-
ed the kingdom of Burgundy ; Henry HI. who cotuiuered
the country between the Inn and the Lech, now called
Lower Austria; Henry IV. and Henry V.; on the death
of the last, Lothairc the Saxon was elected king of Germa-
ny. Under Henry HI. the empiie of Germany had its
greatest extent. It comprehended Germany, ludy, Bur-
gundy, and Lorraine. Poland, and other Slavonian (iibiricts,
were tributary to it ; and Denm.uk and Hungary acknow-
ledged themselves its vassals. The Emperors of Germa-
ny at this pei'iod affected to consider all Christendom as
forming a royal republic, of which the Emperor was chief.
In consequence of this assumed supremacy, they claimed
the exclusive right of creating kings ; and the slates of the
empire proclaimed war against the Duke of Poland for
having taken to himself the title of king in 1077. Soon
after reaching this point of power and grandeur, the em-
pire began to decline, principally owing to the rapid ex-
tension of the feudal system. In every province, the sub-
jects of the law were the vassals of a private chief ; and the
standard which he received from his sovereign, was often
raised against him. The power of the Emperors was also
curtailed by the increasing influence and possessions of the
clergy; and the bishoprics in Germany became equal in extent
and privileges, and superiorin wealth and population, to most
of the secular states. The emperors were gradually de-
prived of the privilege of filling up the ecclesiastical and
secular benefices; and at length each sovereign was reduc-
ed to a recommendation, once in his reign, to a single pre-
bend in each church. The secular governors could be de-
graded only by the sentence of their peers ; the appoint-
ment of the son to the duchy or county of his father, which
in the first age of the monarchy was solicited as a favour,
was at length extorted as a right ; and this right was claimed
even by collateral or female branches.

The emperors of the house of Suabia succeeded to those
of the house of Franconia, and held the empire from A. D.
1138, to A. D. 1254. Tlvsy were, Conrad HI. ; Fredericl.
surnamed Barbarossa; Henry VI. ; Philip ; Otho IV. ; Fre-
deric II. ; and Conrad IV. The principal events in the
history of the latter princes of the Franconian line, and of
all the princes of the Suabian line, were produced or in-
fluenced by the contests between the popes and the em-
perors ; and the principal ground of these contests was the
claim of the popes to the supreme don)inion of every part
of the Christian world, both in temporal and spiritual con-
cerns. This claim gave rise to the factions of theGuelphs
and the Ghibelines ; of which the former were attached to
the popes, and the latter to the emperors. These two fac-
tions kept Germany and Italy in perpetual agitation dur-
ing three centuries ; and during this period, the imperial
authority continued to decline.

The next period, between 1254 and 1272, is generally
called by the German writers, the Great Interregnum. Dur-
ing it, six princes claimed to be emperors. The interreg-
num was determined by the election of Rodolph, Count of
Hapsburgh. F^-om him till the ultimate accession of the
house of Austria, the empire of Germany was held by the
following emperors. Rodolph Count of Hapsburg, elect-
ed A. D. 1273. Adolph, Count of Nassau, elected A. D.
1292. Albert I. Archduke of Austria, elected A. D. 1298.
Henry, Count of Luxemburg, elected A. D. 1308. Louis
V. Duke of Bavaria, elected A. D. 1314. Charles. King
of Bohemia, A. D. 1347. Winceslaus, King of Bohemia,
A. D. 1378. Rooert, Elector Palatine, A. D. 1400. Sigis-
mond. King of Hungary, A. D. 1410. And Albert II. Duke
of Austria, A. D. 1438. During the period between the
last accession of the house of Hapsburg and the election of
Charles V. the empire was possessed by the following em-

4 U 2

708

GERMANY.

perors. I'l-ederic III. elected A. U. 1440 ; Maximilian I.
elected 1493 ; and Charles V. elected A. 1). 1519.

Uurinr; this period, the boundaries of the (Jcrnianic em-
pire, the form ol' its government, and the rise of ilB towns,
particularly those which composed the llanseatic league,
are the chief subjects of consideration. lis boundaries
were the Eyder and the sea on the noitli ; the Scheldt,
Meusc, the Saone, and the Rhone, on the west: the Alps
and the Rhine on the south ; and the Lech and Vistula on
the east. In this great extent of country, the principal
provinces were, the duchy of Burgundy, comprising Savoy,
the Lesser Burgundy, Provence, Dauphiny, and Switzer-
land : the duchy of Lorraine, which, besides Lorraine, con-
tained Holland, Zealand, Brabant, Limburg, Hainault,
Flanders, Geuldres, and Luxemburg. Friesland was at-
tached to Lorraine, but was not governed either by a duke
or a count. When the line of Suabian princes ceased, the
ancient Alemannia and Franconia, in which their posses-
sions chiefly lay, was divided into various principalities.
At this period, Saxony was divided by the Weser into
Eastern and Western. The former was sometimes called
Saxony on the Elbe ; the latter Saxony on the Weser.
Misnia, Thuringia, and Hessia were ustially comprised un-
der Saxony. The Slavic territory, between the Oder and
the Vistula, was occupied by the Margraves of Branden-
burg, and the Dukes of Poland and Bohemia. To the last,
Moravia, Silesia, and Lusatia were subject. Pomerania and
Prussia were at this period in a very unsettled state. Bava-
ria still retained the name of Boisaria. To the east of it, a
considerable tract was called March'ia Orienlalis, or Oost-
ricli ; afterwards Austria. The emperor was always elec-
tive ; but great alterations took place in the mode of elec-
tion. In early periods, the emperor was chosen by the peo-
ple at large ; afterwards the nobility and principal officers
of state possessed the privilege exclusively ; by degrees,
is was engrossed by the five great officers, the chancellor,
the great marshal, the great chamberlain, the great butler,
and the great master. At first they contented themselves
with proposing a candidate to the general body of electors.
Afterwards they confined the whole right of election to
themselves. This mode was finally settled in the reign of
Charles IV. by the celebrated constitution called the Gol-
den Bull, which fixed the right of election in four spiritual
^nd three temporal electors. These were, the King of Bo-
hemia, the Duke of Saxony, the Margrave of Branden-
burgh, the Count Palatine of the Rhine, and thethree arch-
bishops of Mcntz, Treves, and Cologne. Subsequently, the
Duke of Bavaria and the Duke of Brunswick Lunenburgh
were added. The multitude of princes, bishops, abbots,
and male and female nol)les, who, under various names,
possessed sovereign rights, though all recognised the em-
peror as their feudal lord, were divided into the primitive
states, or those which had always been held of the em-
peror, as the duchies of Saxony and Bavaria, the Palatinate,
and several bishoprics ; those which arose on the ruin of
the Guelphic family, in consequence of tlie confiscation of
the possessions of Henry the Lion ; those which arose from
the ruins of the Suabian family ; and those which arose
principally during the interi-egnum.

But though the exclusive privilege of chusing the em-
peror was confined to the electors, they formed only one
branch of the diet. The other two branches consisted of
the princes, and of the free and imperial cities of Germany.
In processof time, the college of princes and prelates purg-
ed themselves of a promiscuous multitude. They reduced
To four representative votes the long series of independent
< ounts, and totally excluded the nobles, 60,000 of whom
had often appeared in the. field *f election. The cities of
Germanyj the origin and tirst stale of which ^as been al-

ready noticed, insensibly became divided into the free cili»s,
or those whicjj held immediately of the emperor, and had
a voice at the diet ; the mixed cities, or those under the
protection of some prince, which had no voice ; and the
municipal cities, entirely subject to the states. The Hanse
towns also arose during the same period. They were ori*
ginally united for the support and encouragement of their
commerce. Bremen and several sea-ports in Livonia first
established the confederacy. At one time 80 towns were
included in it. They wei'e divided into four classes : the
V^andallic, or the cities on the Baltic, between Hamburgh
and Pomerania; over these Lubeck presided : the Rhina-
rian, or cities on the Rhine, at the head of which was Co-
logne : the Saxon, the cities in Saxony and Westphalia,
over which Brunswick presided : and the Piussian, the
cities in Prussia and Livonia, at the head of whicli was
Dantzic. From the beginning of the I5th century, Lubec
was regarded as the head of the whole confederacy. In
the following century it declined ; in the middle of the 17th,
it was almost wholly confined to Haniburg, Lubeck, and
Bremen. Their political existence terminated in 1806.

Another important event in this period of the history of
Germany, is the division of the territories of the empire in-
to circles. The first division of Germany was into the Up-
per and Lower, or southern and northern states. The line
dividing them was supposed to be drawn easterly from the
mouth of the Mayne. It was afterwards geographically
divided into the states lying on the principal rivers, as the
Danube, Rhine, Sec. RIaximilian the First divided it into
ten circles, viz. Bavaria, Franconia, Suabia, Lower and Up-
per Saxony, Lower and Upper Rhine, Westphalia, Austria,
and Burgundy ; but the last, comprising High Burgundy
or Franche Compte, and the 17 provinces of the Nether-
lands, was soon afterwards separated from the empii-e.

During the same period, the diets which had been fre-
quently held, were regularly and solemnly established, con-
sisting, as has been already noticed, of three classes : the
college of electors, of ecclesiastical and secular princes,
and of imperial towns. This division was finally establish-
ed at Frankfort in 1580. The three colleges deliberated
separately. The agreement of them all, as well as the
consent of the emperor, was necessary to form a resolu-
tion or law of the empire.

Maximilian L also established the imperial chamber, and
the .\ulic council. The president of the former was ap-
pointed by the emperor ; the assessors by the states. The
Court Palatine, or Aulic Council, was established as a
check on the imperial chamber. During the vacancy of
the throne, its powers were suspended ; but the imperial
council acted under the vicars of the empire. There was
no appeal from one to the other; the dernier i-esort was the
diet. From the accession of the house of Austria to the
imperial throne, the history of Germany may properly be
sought for under the article Austbia. It will be necessary
here, however, to notice the Uacling events ; _/Jrsf, fi-om the
division of the house of Hajjsburg into its Spanish and
German lines, till the final extinction of the latter in the
house of Lorraine, or the period between 1558 and 1745 ;
and, secondly, from the marriage of Maria Thei-esa, till
the abdication by the emperor of Germany of the imperial
government of the empire, and the form;)tion of the confe-
deration of the Rhine, or the pei'iod between 1745 and 1806,

The principal events in Gt^rmany during the first peri-
od, were the war of thirty years, which began in 1618 and
ended in 1648 ; the war for the succession of Spain, which
began in 1700 and ended in 1713; the war for the succes-
sion of Poland, which began 1733 and ended 1735 ; and the
war for the succession of Austria, which boganin 1740 and
cndtd in 1748. The war of thirty years was principally

GERMANY.

709

owing to ihe religious disputes of the 16i.li century. At
the diet of Augsburg, 1530, the Protestant princes of Ger-
many delivered in their confession of faith, and afterwards
formed the league of Smalkald against the Emperor. At
the peace of Passau, the free exercise of the Lutheran re-
ligion was permitted. In consequence of the disputes re-
garding the succession to the duchies of Cleves and Ju-
liers, the Protestant princes formed a confederacy, called
the Evangelical Union, at the head of which was the Elec-
tor Palatine. To this the Catholics opposed tiie confede-
racy called the Catholic League, and placed at its head the
Duke of Bavaria. I'rom 1618, when open war hegan, till
the peace of Westplialia in 1648, Germany was a scene of
devastation. By tliis peace, the empire underwent consi-
derable changes : the Swedes obtained Pomerania ; the
house of Brandenburg obtained Magdeburg, Minden, Sec. ;
Alsace was conquered by France ; and Lusatia ceded to
Saxony. The war for the succession of Spain not produc-
ing any changes in the Germanic empire, need not be par-
ticularly noticed : the same remark applies to the war for
the succession of Poland.

In Charles VI. the male stock of the house of Haps-
burg expired : in his grandson Joseph, the two lines of this
family, after a separation of 1100 years, were reunited.
On the decease of Charles VI. Maria Thei'csa, his only
daughter succeeded him. The first event of importance,
after heraccession, was the war of seven years. In conse-
quence of the King of Prussia invading Saxony and Bo-
hemia, the Aulic Council voted his conduct a breach of the
public peace ; and the diet of the empire passed a decree
to the same effect. This made it a war of that kind, which
the publicists of Germany call a war of execution of the
empire. The event of the war was, that a mutual oblivion
and restitution took place. The next war was occasioned
by the extinction of the house of Bavaria: it ended in the
peace of Saxe-Teschen, by wliich the rigiit of the Elector
'Palatine to the succession was allowed, with the exception
of some districts of land between the Danube, the Inn, and
the Salze, which were ceded to Austria.

No event afi'ectingthe Germanic empire took place after
this till the French revolution. By it the German states
on the left of the Rhine were first overwhelmed : after-
wards the power of Austria was reduced ; Bavaria, \V'ur-
temberg, and Saxony, raised to the rank of kingdoiws, and
their territories considerably increased, principally by the
annexation of the smaller states. Shortly after the treaty
of Presburg, most of the princes in the western and
soutliern divisions of Germany separated themselves from
the Germanic body, and formed themselves into a league,
under the protection of the Emperor of the French, under
the title of the Confederated States of the Rhine. The
contriicting parties to this confederation were, the Empe-
ror of the French on the one pait, and, on tlie other, the
Kings of Bavaria and Wurtemberg; the Elector Arch-
Chancellor, and the Elector of Baden; the Duke of Berg,
the Landgrave of Hesse Darmstadt, the Princes of Nas-
sau, Weilbourg, Usingen, Hohenzollern, Hcchingen, Sie-
iT>arini;en, Salm Salm, Salm Harberg, Isersbourg, Bris-
tein, Lichtenstein, the Duke of Aremburg, and the Count
of Leyen. By the act of the confederation, all the laws of
the empire were abrogated with respect to tiiese states :
their common interests were to be discussed in an assembly
of the league at Frankfort, divided into two colleges of
kings and princes : the members of llie confederation to
be indcpendeiu of foreign powers, and not to enter into any
kind of service except among themselves; the Emperor
Napoleon to be protector of the alliance ; all the princes,
..counts, kc. within the circle of the allied territory to be

subject to the confederation ; every continental war in
wliich the Emperor of the French or the confederated
states might be engaged, to be common to both ; the con-
tingents to be as loUows: France 200,000 men ; Bavaria
30,000; Wurtemberg 12,000; Baden 8000; Berg 5000;
Darmstadt 4000; Nassau, Hohenzollern, and the others,
4000 ; other (ierman princes were to be admitted into the
alliance, when conducive to the common interest. See
Confederation- nf the Rhine.

By a solemn act, dated at Vienna on the 6th of August
1806, the Emperor of Germany, after adverting to the con-
sequences of the treaty of Presburg, and to the formation
of the confederation of the slates of the Rhine, absolved
all his fierman provinces and states of the empire from
ihetr reciprocal duties towards the Germanic empire ; and
the electors, princes and states, and all that belonged to the
empire, from the duties by which they were united to him
as their legal chief; at the same time abdicating the impe-
rial government of the Germanic empire, renouncing the
title of Emperor of Germany, and assuming that of Em-
peror of Austria.

The confederation of the Rhine was dissolved by the
overthrow of Bonaparte, when the Emperor of Austria was
solicited again to take the title, and exercise the privileges
of Emperor of Germany : this, however, he declined. The
internal regulation of the Germanic empire, and conse-
quently every thing that relates to the constitution of the
smaller states, and their mutual relation to one another,
and to the more powerful princes, it is understood, has
been left, by the Congress of Vienna, to a congress of
German powers alone, to be assembled for that express
purpose.

III. As the most important branches of the statistics of
Germany naturally belong to the principal kingdoms which
it contains, reference must be had to those kingdoms, un-
der the articles Austria, Bavaria, Hanover, Prussia,
&c. for more full information on this point : here we must
confine ourselves to an outline.

We have already seen, that, in ancient times, the Rhine
was reckoned the boundary between Germany and Gaul.
During the usurpations of revolutionary France, that limit
was renewed; but, on the restoration of the Bourbons, the
Ixjundaries of Germany, with very little exception or dif-
ference, were fixed as they had existed previously to the
Revolulion. The exception principally related to that cor-
ner of Germany in the vicinity of Liege, which was an-
nexed to the new kingdom of the Netherlands. Germany
may therefore still be considered as bounded on the west
by France and the Netherlands. After the Rhine has
reached the border of the Dutch provinces, an indistinct
line between them and Germany runs northward to the
mouth of the Ems; from which point the ocean takes up
the northern boundary only interrupted by the Danish pe-
uinsula, which commences beyond the Duchy of Holstein-,
The German coast of the Baltic then succeeds, terminating
with the extreme point of Pomerania. The eastern boun-
dary is very indistinct, in consequence of the mixture of
the Slavonian with the German tongue and manners, and
the annexation of part of Poland to Prussia and Austria.
Brandenburg, Silesia, Moravia, the Austrias, and Carniola,
down to the Gulf of Venice, lie on the eastern boundary.
The southern or Italian boundary, as far as the country of
the Grisons, is formed by the Venetian states. The north-
ern limit of Switzerland is the southern limit of Germany
to the borders of France. It lies chiefly between the 46th
and 54th degrees of north latitude ; its greatest length is
about 600 miles; its breadth rather more than 500, Its

710

GE1{3IANY.

exlent is variously rcciioncil, from 1 1,12'1 German square
tniles, (15 to a degree,) lo 12,7U6 ; but, in the latter mea-
surement, Silesia is included. The climate is in general
temperate, though the winter in the north is sometimes
very long and severe. 'I'hc air is every where salubrious,
except in a few ma.shy places towards the North Sea.
The northern part is mostly low: the first mountains that
occur, on proceeding southwards, arc the Hartz in Hano-
ver ; to the south-east of these are the Hesse mountains;
towards the Rhine and Mayne there are other scattered
ridges. That coiner which lies between the upper part ot
the Rhine and Switzerland, comprising the Black Forest, is
throughout a movmtaino-.is tract. On the eabt, the whole of
Bohemia is surrounded wuh mountains, which branch on
the east to Moravia, and communicate with the Carpathian
mountains. To the south of the Danube are the mountains
of Carinthia; and to the west of these the Tyrolese Alps. As
might be expected from its extent, there is great variety
of soil in Germany. The north-east is covered with sandy
plains and heaths; in the north-west are swamps and
marshes. Some of the interior and south-western districts
possess a very fertile soil. In ancient times, Germany was
covered with forests, of which there are only now detached
remains ; the most extensive is the Black Forest. Thu-
ringia and the Hartz mountains abound in limber ; and the
passion for the chace has preserved or created many ex-
tensive woods in the middle and south.

Five hundred and twenty rivers are reckoned in Ger-
many, sixty of which are navigable to a great length,
and six, viz. the Danube, the Rhine, the Mayne, the We-
scr, the Elbe, and the Otler, rank amongst the noblest and
largest in Europe. The Danube rises in the Black Forest ;
and receiving continual accessions on both banks, soon be-
comes a copious and navigable stream ; it passes Vienna,
and a short distance from that city it becomes a Hungarian
river: it terminates in the Black Sea. The Rhine has nei-
ther its source nor exit in Germany. It rises in Switzer-
land, and after passing Basle, flows for a considerable space,
the boundary between Germany and France. From the
western side of the former it receives numerous rivers, of
which the Mayne and the Necker are the principal ; it en-
ters the sea below Rotterdam, affording a noble and highly
useful inland navigation from Holland, quite to the bor-
ders of Switzerland. Of the rivers that enter the Ger-
man ocean, the first on the west side is the Ems : next
succeeds the Weser, which unites several streams of the
north-west, and joins the sea below Bremen. The Elbe,
rising on the confines of Bohemia and Silesia, augmented
by many rivers from the centre of Germany, flows by
Hamburg, and thence in a broad channel enters the sea on
the west side of Ilolstein. The Oder, which derives its
source from the foot of the Carpathian mountains, is the
principal river that falls into the Baltic. In the duchy of
Mecklenburg there are several lakes. There are also some
small lakes in Bavaria, Austria, Pomerania, and Branden-
burg. The Boden sea, or lake of Constance, belongs part-
ly to Germany and partly to Switzerland. There are up-
wards of 1000 mineral spiings and baths, of which the
most faiTious are Carlsbad in Bohemia; Toplitz in Austria;
Seltzer in the Upper Rhine ; and Pyrmont in Westphalia.
See the articles DANrnE and Elbe.

There is a considerable variety in the vegetable pro-
ductions of Germany ; in general, they are those of the
northern and middle temperate regions. Besides corn of
all kinds, flax of excellent quality, hemp, hops, tobacco,
madder, saffron, rape seed, rhubarb. Sec. are grown ; rice
is cultivated in Moravia. The wine country begins about
the juiiction of the Necker with the Rhine, and accompa-
nies those rivers towards their rise. The most celebrated

wines of Germany arc those of the Rhine, especially about
Manheim and Heidelberg, and in the district called the
Rheinzan ; here the lofty and romantic baidis of the river
arc clothed with vineyards. The wine of Moselle ranks
ne.xt ; and after it a red wine called Pleiker, which is made
near Mentz. Austria also affords wine, some of which is
of excellent quality. Franconia, and particularly Bamberg,
furnishes a great deal of liquorice ; and the lower palati-
nate contains immense numbers of chesnut trees, and par-
ticularly fine walnut trees. The breed of horses, except
in Mecklenburg, East Freisland, Oldenbcrg, Holstein, and
some parts of Hanover and Wurtemberg, is very indiffer-
ent. The best breeds of oxen are in East Friesland, Ol-
denburg, and Holstein ; but both they and the sheep are by
no means sufficiently numerous; of the latter, the number
is reckoned not to exceed 13 or 14 millions. The me-
rino breed has been introduced into Saxony upwards
of a century, and now produces wool equal in quality to
the finest Spanish; this breed is also naturalized in Prus-
sia, but in general the sheep and wool of Germany are
indifferent. The breed of hogs is much neglected ; that
of goats is encouraged in the mountainous districts. The
forests are plentifully supplied with wild boars, which are
reared to a large size. Westphalia is particularly noted
for this species of game. Poultry is abundant. Some
parts of Gerinany are remarkable for fine larks and thrush-
es of a delicious flavour. Others abound in singing birds,
particularly Canary birds and goldfinches. Silk worms are
reared in some of the southern districts. On the whole,
agriculture is not in a very advanced state, except in Sax-
ony, which, in every respect, is one of the finest parts of
Germany. In the more mountainous parts, the lynx is
still found; and in the Tyrolese Alps wolves are by no
means uncommon. The only fisheries of Germany, with
the exception of those carried on by the small towns on
the Baltic and German Ocean, are those of the rivers, in
some of which, besides the more common fish, the sturgeon
is found.

Small particles of gold are found in the Rhine, the Da-
nube, the Elbe, &c. ; in most other mineral productions
this country is very rich. Tlie chain of hills between Saxo-
ny and Bohemia yields silver, copper, tin, lead, iron, co-
balt, bismuth, &c. ; most of these metals are also found in
the Hartz mountains. Bavaria has mines of silver, copper,
and lead, and is noted for its salt springs. There are also
extensive salt works near Halle ; and salt mines near Saltz-
burg. The iron of Carinthia and Stiria is particularly fa-
mous, as convertable to the finest steel. The quicksilver
mines of Idria are also very productive, and of great fame.
Besides the rarer and more valuable stones, Germany pos-
sesses large quarries of curious marble, and excellent mill
and burr stones. In Misnia are found various sorts of fine
earth, such as tripoli and porcelain earth, fullers' earth,
&c. There are some coal mines, particularly in West-
phalia, and abundance of peat mosses.

The manufactures are very various : pearl ashes and
pitch arc made in various parts. Linens are made in al-
most every part ; but principally in Austria, Saxony, Lusa-
tia, and Silesia ; the cotton manufacture is establishing it-
self in Austria, Prussia, and Saxony. Woollen manufac-
tures are spread throughout the empire, but with the ex-
ception of the cloths of Silesia, chiefly of the coarser kind.
The silk manufacture was established in Brandenburg, by
the refugees driven from France, at the time of the revo-
cation of the edict of Nantz ; silk is also manufactured in
Austria and Saxony. There are many iron works at Nu-
reinberg, and in Silesia, Saxony, and Holstein ; here also
are copper works. The porcelain of Saxony is still good,
though not so famed as formerly.

GEU

GEll

711

The principal sea ports of Germany arc llaniburg, Kid,
Luljeck, Wisiiiar, Rostock, Sualsund, Stettin, Embdcn,
and Bremen ; i'.s inland towns of );reat trade are Magde-
burg, Leipsic, Naumbiirg, Francfort on llic Mayne, Franc-
fort on the Oder, Vienna, Augsburg, Nuremberg, IJres-
law, and Ulni. The principal articles of exportation arc
timber, corn, fruit, wine, tobacco, madder, cobalt, smaltz,
potash, horses, oxen, salt and smoked meat, buttci-, cheese,
wax, leather, wool, linen cloth to a very large amount, li-
nen yarn, lace, lead, copper, brass, quicksilver, mirrors,
glass, wooden toys, and trinkets. It imports corn, oxen,
and horses, chiefly from Hungary, Poland, and Denmark ;
hogs from Hungary ; butter from Ireland and Holland ; all
sorts of colonial produce, cotton stuffs, hardware, &c. It
carries on a lucrative trade by means of the Danube, with
European Turkey, whence it imports an immense quan-
tity of raw cotton.

The Roman Catholic, Lutheran, and reformed religions,
are established in Cierjiuuiy ; but all other sects are tole-
rated. The Gernj^.n language,- is derived from the Gothic :
it is strong, copious, abounding in compound words, but
rough in the sound, and involved in the syntax ; the purest
dialect is that of Saxony ; the least pure is spoken in the
southern provinces. It has been much studied of late
years in the other parts of Europe. The literature of
Germany, till lately, was more distinguished by erudition
than by taste or genius; and even yet, the history of lite-
rature and statistics are more cultivated in Germany than
elsewhere. There are upwards of 30 universities, some
of which arc of great repute ; particularly those of Jena,
Leipsic, Gottingen, &c. The most distinguished of its
learned societies are at Vienna, Berlin, Gottingen, Man-
licim, &c.

Before the peace of Luneville in 1801, the population
of Germany was rated at 27 millions; by the cession of
the country situated on the left shore of the Rhine, it lost
3,700,000 inliabitants; but as most of that territory is re-
stored, its present population may be reckoned at nearly
27 millions.

" The German people, from the earliest times, have
borne a high character for bravery, and the masculine
qualities of the mind. They are in general frank and open,
but inclined to be boastful and boisterous. They are inde-
iatigable in their pursuits, and engage in them with a se-
riousness and sense of importance, which not unfrequently
lead them to laborious trifling."

Tacitus, de Moribus Germanorum.

JVouvel Abrege Chronologique de I'Histoire et dco Droit
fiublic d'AUemagne, liar M. Pfeffel.

Dr Robertsoii's view of the progress of Society in Eu-
rope, prefixed to his History of Charles }'.

De la Ligue Hanseatiijue, par M. Mallet, 1805.

Tableau des Resolutions de V Europe dans le moyen age,
par M. Koch, 1790.

Dornford's lrans;ation of Putter's Historical developement
of the Constitution of the Germanic Empire, 1790.

Histoire des Allemands, traduile de I'Allemand de Smidt,
par Le Veaux, 1784.

Butler's Revolutiojis of the GermaJiic Empire.

Reisbeck's Travels i7i Germany.

Reise in Deutshland, z'on Nicolai. (w. s.)

GERMINATION. See Botany.

GERONA, the Gerunda of the ancients, is a town of
Spain, in the province of Catalonia, situated on both sides
of the Ter, on the side and at the base of a steep moun-
tain. It is encircled with good walls, flanked with fortifi-
cations, and is defended by two forts erected upon the
mountain. Gerona is nearly of a triangular shape, and the

houses are well built, though the streets arc crowded and
narrow. The principal public buildings are the cathedral
and collegiate cluirchtb. Thv cathedral stands on the ridge
of the mountain. It exhibits a magnificent front at the
top of three grand terraces, adorned with granite ballus-
trades, and the ascent is by a flight of 86 steps, as broad
as the whole extent of the church. The front, which is
flanked with three hexagon towers, is ornamented with the
Doric, Corinthian, and Composite orders. The interior is
large and handsome, but the nave only is Gothic. The
treasury of the cathedral was very rich before the revolu-
tion. The collegiate church of St Felix, formerly St
Mary's, is built in the Gothic style, and has a body and
two aisles, divided by pillars, with a large and fine case-
ment in the middle. In front of the fac;ade is an old arjd
iolty tower.

In the Capuchin convent, there is a curious Arabian bath
constructed in the most elegant style. It consists of co-
lumns standing on an octagonal stylobate, or low base,
which surrounds a reservoir for water. The Benedictine
nunnery of St Daniel is about a mile from Gerona. It is
one of the principal nunneries in Catalonia of the order of
St Benet, and those ladies only are admitted who can bring
proofs of nobility.

The university of Gerona, founded in 1521 by Philip II.
was abolished in 1715 by Philip V. After the suppres-
sion of the order of Jesuits, the means of public instruc-
tion were concentrated in one college, where there are 900
students, who are instructed in Latin grammar, rhetoric,
philosophy, and theology. The library of the Jesuits, which
is now open to the public, is extensive and well selected.
Other three professors chairs are supported at the ex-
pence of the town. Schools for the gratuitous instruction
of poor girls, and a boarding-school for young ladies, are
kept by the community of Beguine nuns. This institution
is owing to the generosity of the bishop Don Thomas de
Lorenzana, who encouraged in his diocese, agriculture,
manufaciures, and all the useful arts The civil and mili-
tary administration of the town resides in a governor, a
king's lieutenant, a mayor, a governor of the little castle of
Mountjouy, an alcade major for the administration of jus-
tice, and a municipal body of twelve regidors, and a small
garrison.

Very little trade is carried on in this town. It possesses
a few looms for stockings, coarse cloths, and woollen and
cotton stuffs, which have been estabjlished within the last
thirty years.

Gerona is the see of a bishop suffragan of Tarragona.
The diocese consists of 4 arch-deaconries, 470 parishes, 2
collegiate chapters, and 8 abbeys or priories. In the town
there are five parishes, 9 convents for men and 3 for wo-
men, a nunnery of Beguines, a college, seminary, general
hospital, and ciiaritable asylums.- Population about 14,000,
a fourth of whom consisted before the revolution of priests,
monks, nuns, scholars, and students. Sec Laborde's View
of Spain, vol. i. p. 13, &c.

GERS, the name of one of the deparanontsof Fiance, is
so called from the river of the same name by which it is
traversed from north to south. It is bounded on the north
by the departments of the Lot and Garonne, on the west by
that of the Landes, on the south by those of the Higher and
Lower Pyrenees, and on the cast by that of the High Ga-
ronne. The soil of this department is far from being fer-
tile. The western part of it is thj best, and produces some
wheat, and a considerable quantity of wines, some of which
are esteemed. It has almost no manufactures, and its prin-
cipal trade is in brandy. The forests occupy fioni 12,000
to 13,000 hectares, or about 25,000 acres, of which one half
belongs to individuals, and the rest to the nation and the

OES

communes. Tlie Adoiii- also waters tlic department. The
following are ihe principal towns :

Aiicli

C^ondom

Lectouie

Mirande

Lombez.

Inliabilants.
. 7696
. 6917
. 5453
. 1558
. 1443

The population of the department is 291,845; and its
contributions in 1803, 2,650,310 francs.

GEUSAU, or Giiersai', is a village of Switzerland,
situated on the lake of Waldstettes, at the foot of Uii^hi, in
an ant^lc between the mountain of Gersau and the Rotlie-
Schouth. Its territory isonly about one league broad and two
leagues long, and it constitutes the smallest republic in the
world. There is not a single horse in the republic ; and,
excepting a narrow path down the side of the steep moun-
tain, the only way of arriving at the town is by water. Ger-
sau forms part of the canton of Schweitz. It contains 1500
inhabitants, who are employed principally in spinning silk
for the manufacturers at Basle.

GERTRUYDENBERG, is a fortified town of Holland,
situated on the river Merwe, which forms a good harbour,
and expands into a considera!)le lake, called Bies Bosch,
acro*s which there is a two hours passage to Dort. The
town is remarkable, principally for the abundance of sal-
mon, sturgeons, and shad, which are caught in the neigh-
bourhood. It has sometimes happened, that 18,000 shads
have been taken in one day. The town enjoys the staple
right for this species of fish, and therefore its principal trade
consists in salting and smoking them, and in sending them
to the neighbonring towns. Distance from Dort ten miles
soiuh-east, from Breda seven north-east.

GESNER, or Gessner, Conhad, a learned Swiss, was
born at Zurich in the year 1516. He received the rudi-
ments of his education in his native city, and discovered an
early genius for literature and science; but he experienc-
ed many serious difficulties and discouragements in the
course of his zealous pursuit of knowledge. His father's
circumstances were insufficient for his maintenance as a
scholar ; and he was in consequencg about to discontinue
his studies, when Ammien, professor of Latin and eloquence
atZuricb, generouslytook young Gesner into hisown house,
and charged himself with the care of his education. The
death of his father, however, again reduced him to great
extremities ; and his misfortunes were increased by his
falling into a dropsical complaint. Having in some mea-
sure recovered his health, he determined to travel and seek
his fortune ; and after the termination of the troubles in
Switzerland, the Academy of Zurich allowed him a pen-
sion, in order to enable him to make the tour of France, On
his return, he accepted an invitation from ihe university of
Zurich to take charge of a school ; but having married, and
finding his appointment inadequate to the support of a fami-
ly, he resolved to study physic, and accordingly devoted
all the time he could spaie from the duties of his school to
books of medicine. Being at length disgusted with his
situation at Zurich, he removed to Basle, and employed
himself in reading the works of the Greek physicians, until
he was appointed Greek professor at Lausanne. Having
now acquired the means of attending to his favourite pur-
suits, he was enabled to repair to Montpelier, where he
studied anatomy and botany for some time, and then return-
ed to Zui'ich to prosecute his profession as a physician.
He was admitted to the degree of Doctor, and was soon af-
ierwards appointed professor of plulcsophy ; a situation

which he held during the remaining twenty-four years of
his life. In the year 1565, he was carried otf by the plague.
Boerhaave emphatically styles Conrad Gesner monatrum
cruclitio)iis, " a prodigy of learning." Mi- Coxe, in his Let-
ters on Switzerland, justly observes, that "those w|-.o are
conversant with the works of this great scholar and natu-
ralist, cannot repress their wonder and admiration at the
amplitude of his knowledge in every species of erudition,
and the variety of his discoveries in natural history. Their
wonder and admiration," says he, " are still farther aug-
mented, when they consider the gross ignorance of the age
which he helped to enlighten, and the scanty succours he
possessed, to aid him in thus extending the bounds of know-
ledge ; that he composed his works, and made those dis-
coveries, which would have done honour to the most en-
lightened period, under the complicated evils of poverty,
sickness, and domestic uneasiness." On account of the
vai'icty of his attainments, and the extent of his learning,
he was distinguished by the name of the German Pliny.

His works are numerous ; of these the principal are, 1.
^n Universal Diciionury, published at Zurich in 1545. 2.
ji History of jinimals, ii. four volumes folio, Zuricii, 1551.
3. ji Greek and Latin Lexicon. 4. Opera Botanica, Nurem-
berg, folio. (2)

GESNER, or Gessnf.r, John Matthew, »n eminent
German philologer, was born at Roth, a village in the ter-
ritory of Anspach, on the 9lh of April 1591. He was re-
duced to great poverty by the death of his father, at a very
early age; but by the kindness of a relation, he was enabled
to acquire the elements of learning at the public scnool
of Anspach. In 1710, he repaired to the university of Jena,
where he studied theology, and supported himself partly
by occasional poems, until he obtained the patronage of
Uuddeus, by whose recommendation he was appointed, in
1715, to superintend the public school at Weimar; from
Whence he was removed to a similar situation at Anspach
in 1728, and in 1730 to Lcipsic. Having greatly distin-
guished himself as a profound philologer, he repaired to
Gottingen, where, in 1734, he was appointed professor of
humanity in the newly erected university, to which were
added the offices of public librarian, and inspector of
schools throughout the electorate of Hanover. In the
year 1751, he was made director of the Royal Academy
of Sciences at Gottingen; and in 1756, he received the
honorary title of Aulic Counsellor. In every situation, he
exhibited proofs ot uncommon industry and erudition ; he
was zealous in promoting the interests and prosperity of
the university, to which he was so great an ornament ; and
endeavoured to discharge his duties as a public teacher
in a manner at once agreeable and useful. He died at
Gottingen in the year 1761.

To this eminent scholar, we are indebted for some ex-
cellent editions of the classics, particularly Quintilian, Pliny,
Claudian, and the poems of Orpheus, which last were pub-
libhcd, after his death, by Hambciger. Besides these, his
principal work is the Thesaurus Laline Lingua et erudi-
tionis RontanTS, Leipsic, 1747, 1748, in four volumes folio.
The great value of this woik is well known to every
scholar. Gesner also publislied several learned memoirs
in the Transactions of the Gottingen Academy of Scien-
ces. (;)

GESNER, or Gessxer, Solomon, a celebrated Ger-
man poet and landscape painter, was born at Zurich on
the first of April 1730. In the early period of his youth
he made very slow progress in his education, and was con-
sidered by his teachers as a pupil of very mean capacity.
But this backwardness must be ascribed to the perverse
method of instruction at that time in use, and not to any

GES

GHE

7i;

deficiency of intellect on the part of the pupil. Duiintj
his school hours, instead of (Icvotinj^ his attention to the
study of grammatical rules, he often employed liimscif in
modelling figures of various kinds, groups of men and
animals in wax, and thus discovered an early genius for
the imitative arts. By some accident, a copy of Hobinson
Crusoe fell into his hands, and awakened a poetic fancy,
which his preceptors endeavoured to stifle by every means
in their power.

His parents, however, perceiving the education of their
son advance so slowly, resolved to try a different method,
and accordingly sent him to the country, to the Rev. Mr
Vogeli, a gentleman who had acquired great reputation as
a teacher. Here, under a milder system of discipline,
Gesner made sufficient progress to enable him to read the
•Roman poets in the original, and the Greek writers in the
Latin version. His intercourse with the son of his in-
structor, a passionate admirer of ancient literature, and a
lover of the belles lettres in general, was likewise of great
advantage to him. Through him he became acquainted
with the works of the German poet Brockes, wliich he
perused with avidity, and to which he was indebted for the
developement of his poetical talents.

After a residence of about two years at Berg, he return-
ed to his family, and resolved to follow his father's profes-
sion of a printer and bookseller. At Zurich he had an op-
portunity of increasing his knowledge and improving his
genius, by cultivating the society of men distinguished for
their talents and learning. In the year 1749, he was sent
to an eminent bookseller at Berlin, in order to learn his
business. But the mechanical occupations in which he
was employed by his master were by no means suited to
the taste of Gesner, who already began to feel the con-
sciousness of his own abilities. He therefore quitted his
employer, hired an apartment for himself, and resolved to
devote himself to tlie study of landscape painting, which
had long been his favourite pursuit. This hasty step ex-
cited the displeasure of his parents, who determined to
make him feel his dependence, by withdrawing from him
their support. A reconciliation, however, soon took place ;
and Gesner obtained their permission to remain at Berlin,
with the liberty of following his own inclinations. Here
he formed an acquaintance with several eminent literary
characters, and was particularly intimate with Ramler, by
whose advice he was induced to resolve his poetical com-
positions into harmonious prose, instead of verse, which
presented many serious difficulties to an author who was
not conversant with the more improved dialect of the Ger-
man language.

After paying a visit to Hamburgh, Gesner returned to
Zurich, and published, in succession, those pieces which
have procured for him an extensive and well-merited re-
putation. In 1751, his So«g of a Swiss to his Mistress on
her a/i/iearirig in Armour, was inserted in a periodical pub-
lication. His next essay was the piece entitled .i\''ig/it. In
1754, he published a larger poem, entitled Da/i/inis,vih\ch
was suggested to him by Amiot's translation of Longus.
These were followed by a volume of Idyls, in 1756; the
Death of Jbcl, 1758 ; a collection of his poems, in four
volumes, 1762, including The First A'avigator, which was
always a favourite production with the author, and the two
dramatic pieces, Evandcr and Erastus. In 1772, he pub-
lished a second volume ol' Id y Is, with a letter on landscape
painting, addressed to M. Fiissli.

When about thirty years of age, Gesner married Made-
moiselle Heidegger, a young lady endowed with rare ac-
complishments of mind and person. Finding, however,
that the resources, of his pen were inadequate to the sup-
jjort of a family, he resolved to apply more seriously than

Vol. IX. Paht II.

ever to his favourite art of landscape painting, in which
he ultimately attained a very high degree of excellence.
Indeed, his pictures have been by some esteemed superior
to his poems. He died on the 1 1th of March, 1787, at his
country seat in the forest of Sihl. A monument, on which
Nature and I'oetry arc represented weeping over his urn,
was erected to his memory by some of his fcllow-cilizcns,
on a charming spot in his favourite walk, near the conflu-
ence of the Sihl and the Limmat.

The works of Solomon Gesner are too well known to
require any particular notice. His poetry is all of the
sentimental kind ; and he excels especially in the descrip-
tion of natural scenery. He is undoubtedly the first writer
of pastorals in modern times ; and it is not the least of his
merits, that his productions uniformly breathe a spirit of
purity highly favourable to innocence ar.d virtue. In pri-
vate life, he was modest, ingenuous, and amiable; and
the cheerfulness and natural gaiety of his temper, combined
with great goodness of heart, endeared him to a numerous
circle of friends, (z)

GHAUTS is a name which properly signifies a pass
through a range of lofty hills, but it has been extended to
designate the mountainous chains which support the cen-
trical table land in the south of India.

The Eastern Ghauts commence in N. Lat. 11° 20' to
the north of Caverey, and stretch nearly and almost unin-
terruptedly in a straight line to the banks of the Khrisna,
in N. Lat. 16°, separating the two Carnatics, which are
named the Carnatic Balaghaut, or abwe the Ghauts, and
the Carnatic Payeenghaut, or below the Ghauts. The
greatest height of this ridge, which is about the latitude
of Madras, is nearly 3000 feet.

The Western Ghauts, or Hills of Sukkicn, extend from
Cape Comorin to the Tuptee, or Surat River, where they
leave their southerly elevation, and bend eastward in a
waving line parallel to the river, till they are lost among
the hills near the river Boorhanpoor. With the exception
of a single opening, 16 miles wide, which admits the
Paniany, the SVestern Ghauts include 13 degrees of lati-
tude. Their distance from the coast is commonly 40 miles,
and seldom more than 70.

GHEE is the name of a kind of clarified butter, made
from the milk of buffaloes. It may be preserved sweet
for a considerable time, and forms a great article of com-
merce in various parts of India. It is generally put up iu
duppers or bottles made of hides, each containing from 10'
to 40 gallons. In some parts of Bengal the price varies
from 6 to 8 seers for a rupee.

GHENT, or Ga7id in French, Gandavum in Latin, is a
town in the Netherlands, and formerly capital of Austrian
Flanders. It is advantageously situated at the conflux of
the rivers Scheldt, Lis, Moere, and Lieve, which intersect
it in various directions, and divide the town into 26 small
islands. The town is encircled with walls about 15 miles
in circumference, comprehending numerous corn fields
and gardens. Many of the houses are excellently built ;
some of the streets are broad and well paved, and the mar-
ket places are spacious. In one of these is a statue erect-
ed to the Emperor Charles V. who was born in this city.
The cathedral church is the principal edifice in Ghent.
The pulpit, which was made by the celebrated Delvaux of
Nivelles, has been particularly admired. The musical
bells of the cathedral have been much noticed by strangers.
The principal altars, the magnificent tombs of the bishops,
and the subterraneous church, are well deserving of ex-
amination. Besides the cathedral, there are six churches
and a collegiate church. The church of St Michael is ad-
mired on account of the boldness of the nave. There is a
beautiful promenade along the canal, which is called De la

4 X

714

GHI

Coufiure; one of the sides is for foot passengers, and the
otlier for carriages. The other public establishments are
the library, the academy of painting, and the botanic garden,
which is reckoned extremely beautilul.

Ghent communicates with Bruges, and afterwards with
Ostend, by means of the canal which was begun in 1613,
and with the western Scheldt by the Saas-de-Gand, by
means of another canal. The principal articles oi com-
merce in Ghent are French wines, grain, flax, hemp, and
colza for the manufacture of oil. The manufacture of
linen cloths is carried on to a great extent in this town and
its neighbourhood. Twilts for beds, table linen, and lace,
are also made here to a great extent. There are likewise
manufactures of glue, woollen stuffs, cottons, soap, paper,
vinegar, tobacco, hats, and stockings, besides refineries of
sugar and salt. Population 58,000.

GHERIAH, or Corepatam, is a sea-port of Hindostan,
in the county of Concan. The fort stands on a rocky pro-
montory, about one mile long, and a quarter of a mile broad.
This promontory is joined to the continent by a narrow
neck of land, beyond which, where the ground expands, is
a large open town. On the neck of land are docks where
grabs are built and repaired. The river runs in a south-
westerly direction, and washes the north side of the town,
the neck of land, and the promontory. The point, which
bounds the entrance on the south side, is high and broad,
and is situated in 73° 25' East Long. The fort consists of
a double wall, with round towers ; the inner wall being
several feet higher than the outer one. The harbour is
very good, withoufany bar, and has at its entrance a depth
of from five to seven fathoms, and from three to four
fathoms at low water. Vessels are here completely shel-
tered from every wind.

This town was formerly the capital of Angria the Pi-
rate. In 1756 it was taken by the British fleet under Ad-
miral Watson, who found in it 200 pieces of cannon, six
brass mortars, great quantities of military and naval stores,
and money and effects to the amount of 125,000/. Angria's
fleet was also destroyed, and the town was given up to the
Mahrattas, in whose possession it has since continued. La-
titude of Gheriah point 16° 31' N. See Milburn's Oriental
Cornmerce, vol. i.

GIIILAN, or Kilan, the Gela of the ancients, is a pro-
vince of Persia, which stretches along the south-west shore
of the Caspian Sea, from Kizilagatch to beyond Rudizar.
On the south and south-east it is bounded by Irak and
Mazanderaun, on the north by Shirvan, and on the west
by Azerbijan. It extends about 200 miles from north to
south, and 150 from west to east. This province, which
is one of the most beautiful and picturesque in Persia, is
encircled with lofty and almost inaccessible mountains, and
like Mazanderaun is intersected with forests and morasses.
There are whole forests of oak, boxwood, mulberry, and
walnut trees; and honey-suckles, flowers, sweet-briars, and
loses, cover the vallies. The soil, which is excellent,
affords hemp, hops, olives, rice, wheat, tobacco, and va-
rious kinds of fruit, sucli as lemons, oranges, peaches, and
pomegranates. Grapes, tliough not of a good quality, are
very plentiful; and, as in Georgia, the vines which grow
wild on the mountains support themselves on the trunks
and branches of trees.

The manufactures and silk of Ghilan have been reckoned
ihe best in Persia. The cultivation of silk is the principal
employment of the inhabitants, and constitutes the chief
trade of the province. It is annually exported in great
quantities to Astracan from Resht and Lankeroon. Tl:e
finest kind is usually white, and is either sold to the Turks,
or sent into the interior of Persia. The inferior kind, which
is yellow, is exported to Russia.

GHI

The principal river in (ihilan is the Kizilozien, or Golden
Stream. It is the Gozan of Scripture, and rises eight or
nine miles to the north-west of Sennah in Kurdistan. After
running along the noith-west frontier of Irak, and passing
under the Kufulan Koh, or mountain of Tigers, it is joined
a little to the east of Meanna, by the Karanku, which has its
origin in the mountains of Sahund to the west of Meanna.
Their united streams force a passage through the great
range of Caucasan, and receive in their course the Shah-
rood. These collected currents traverse the province of
Ghilan, under the name of the Sifud Rood, or white river,
and throw themselves into the Caspian. The road from
Hamadan to Resht is upon the edge of the deep chasm
through which the river flows, and is described by Captain
Sutherland as one of the grandest and most terrific scenes.

The principal town of Ghilan is Resht, on the Caspian.
In rough weather, its harbour is less safe than that of Lan-
keroon in the district of Talish.

The inhabitants of Ghilan are said to have a language of
their own, diflerent from the Persian and Turkish. Ghilan
was ceded by Persia to Russia in 1724, taken by Catharine
in 1780, and restored to Persia in 1797. The nett revenue
of the province is 149,490 tomarins, and 9058 dinars. See
Kinneir's Geografihical Memoir, p. 159, 160; and Morier's
Travels in Pcr.'ja, p. 288.

GlilLJIE Country, is the name of a district of Afgan-
istan, inhabited by the Ghiljie tribes. It forms a parallelo-
gram, about 180 miles long and 85 broad. The climate is
in general severer than that of England, and the summer
not much hotter. The Ghiljies were formerly the most
celebrated of the Afghans. About the commencement of
the last century, they conquered all Persia, and defeated the
Ottoman armies. A full account of these wars, and of the
tribe itself, will be found in Manway's Travels ; Jones's
Histoire de JVadir Cliah ; and Elphinstone's Account of Ca-
buli p. 433, &c.

GHIZNEE, GHizxE,or Ghizni, was formerly the capi-
tal of an extensive empire, extending from the Tigris to
tlie Ganges, and from the Taxartes to the Persian Gulf.
It is situated on a height, washed by a pretty large stream,
and is encircled with stone walls. Beside several dark and
narrow streets, the town contains three bazars, with high
houses on each side, and a covered chaursoo. Among the
few remains of the ancient grandeur of this city are two
lofty minarets, at some distance from each other, the least
of which is above 100 feet high. " The tomb of the great
Sultan Mahmood," says Mr Elphinstone, whose excellent
account of Cabul contains all the information we have on
this subject, " is also standing, about three miles from the
city. It is a spacious but not a magnificent building, co-
vered with a cupola. The doors, which are very large, are
of sandal wood, and arc said to have been brought by the
Sultan as a trophy from the famous temple of Somnaut in
Guzerat, which he sacked in his last expedition to India.
The tombstone is of white marble, on which are sculptured
Arabic verses from the Koran, and at its head lies the plain
but weighty mace, which is said to have been wielded by
the monarch himself. It is of wood, with a head of metal
so heavy that few men can use it. Tiiere are also some
thrones or chairs, inlaid with mother-of pearl, in the tomb,
which are said to have belonged to Mahmood. The toinb-
slonie is under a canopy, and some Moollahs are still main-
tained, who incessantly read the Koran aloud over the
grave. There are some other ruins of less note, among
which are the tombs of Behlole Dauna, or Behlole the Wise,
and that of Ilukeeni Saunauee, a poet, still greatly esteem-
ed in Persia ; but nothing remains to shew the magnificence
of the palaces of the G.iznavide kings, or of the mosques,
baths, and caravanseras, which once adorned the capital of

GIANTS.

715

Uie East. Of all the antiquities of Ghiznec, the most vise-
i'ul is an cnibanknicnt across a stream, which was built by
Mahmood, and which, though damaged by the fury of the
Ghoree kings at the capture of Ghiznec, still supplies water
to the fields and gardens round the town. The immediate
environs of the city are inhabited by Taujiks and Hazau-
rehs." Ghiznee contains only about 1500 houses, besides
the suburbs without the walls. East Long. 68° 58', and
North Lat. 33° 10'. See Elphinstone's McounC of Cabul,
p. 432. Lend. 1815.

GIANTS, is the name given to men whose stature
greatly exceeds the ordinary size of the human race.

On surveying the field of nature, we sometimes discover
aberrations from her usual course. Animals are seen of
dimensions infinitely surpassing those which commonly be-
long to their kind ; and vegetables of a bulk so remarkable,
as to excite astonishment in the beholder. We are thence
led to enquire, What secret principle is it that limits the
expansion of animal and vegetable matter? How is it con-
fined within definite boundaries, those which at once maik
the identity of species by the most prominent analogies?
We should find it difficult to solve these questions, and
perhaps our knowledge of the vital and material economy
of the two great kingdoms now alluded to is still too imper-
fect for us to hazard conjectural explanations.

In most of the ancient histories of the world, we read of
giants. They also find a place in many of those of modern
date : and the name is so universally employed by poets
and romancers, that nothing can be more familiar to our
ears. Not only are individual giants repeatedly referred
to, but the existence of whole nations of those, who have
viewed their fellow-men as a pigmy race, has been admit-
ted as a fact not to be called into dispute. During a retro-
spect of many centuries, likewise, successive degradation
in the stature and strength of mankind is maintained to
have taken place, which, were it true, would scarcely al-
low our contemporaries to reach the knees of their ances-
tors, and bestow no more power upon them, than the others
possessed in their fingers. Those, however, who are ac-
customed to reason from facts, who disregard conjecture,
and are enabled to separate truth from fiction, feel inclined
to question whether there ever was a race ofgiants, as ge-
nerally understood by that name; and whether the race of
mankind under the same latitude, has decreased in any re-
spect since the days of our original parents.

Perhaps the discordant opinions on this subject are not
so irreconcileable as at first sight may appear ; and by care-
fully analysing all that has been recorded in history, we
shall find that individuals of gigantic stature have existed at
tlifl'erent aeras; and that at the present day, there arc one
or two tribes of South Americans, whose size considerably
surpasses the dimensions commonly allotted to mankind.
But it is essential to beware of the exaggerations to which
men have ever been prone; and not to allow our credulity
to be imposed upon by what is utterly beyond belief, from
whatever source the narrative shall be received.

In scriptuie it is related, at a period apparently contem-
porary with Noah, or immediately antecedent to the flood,
« that the sons of God saw the daughters of men, that they
were fair, and they took them wives of all which they
chose." Further," there were giants in the earth in those
days, and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto
the daughters of men : and they bare children to them,
the same became mighty men which were of old, and men
of renown." These passages, it is true, contain some ob-
scurities ; but we do not conceive tiiat they warrant the
conclusion which certain critics liavc deduced, of this gi-
gantic race being the offspring of divinities and human fe-
luales. At Hebron, in Judea, there was a celebrated tribe

of giants, the sons of Anak ; and the spies sent out by Mo-
ses to reconnoitre the country seem to have made their re-
port in these words : " And there we saw the giants, the
sons of Anak, which come of the giants ; and we were in our
own sight as grashoppers, and so we were in their sight."
Although only three individuals, Ahiman, Sheshai, and
Talmai, are previously named as the children of Anak, it
is elsewhere said, " it is a land which eateth up the inhabi-
tants thereof, and all the people that are in it are men of
great stature." Thus the context proves the correctness
of the translation of this part of scripture ; and that the ap-
pellation giants is not the proper name of a particular tribe,
or nation, or tyrants, or evil doers, as commentators have
inferred. Further, their history is continued, and Og, King
of Bashan, in the same regions, is specifically described,
somewhat later, as the last of the race ; as also, " Bashan
which was called the land of giants." This king was en-
countered and slain by Moses at the head of the Israelites,
apparently at the gates of his own city ; and it is said, " for
only Og, King of Bashan, remained of the remnant of gi-
ants : behold liis bedstead was a bedstead of iron : is it not
in Rabbath of the children of Ammon ? nine cubits was the
length thereof, and four cubits the breadth of it, after the
cubit of a man." This extraordinary bedstead, therefore,
iTiust have been between 14 and 15 feet long, and about 7
in breadth, according as the cubit is taken, at 18 or 20
inches. The next giant of whom we read in scripture was
Goliath ; but before leaving the gigantic king of Bashan,
we may remark, that a spacious cavern is said to have been
found near Jerusalem some thousand years after his death,
containing a grave or tomb, with an inscription in Chaldaic,
Here lies the giant Off. A tooth weighing four pounds and
a quarter was found in the tomb, which, being sent from
Constantinople, was offered to the emperor of Germany as
a curiosity for 2000 rixdollars, in 1678. The emperor,
however, being doubtful of the fact, ordered the tooth to be
returned. The stature of Goliath must have been consi-
derably inferior to that of Og ; but his corporeal strengtli
is undoubted, on considering his weapons and armour.
Commentators conclude that six cubits and a span, de-
scribed to be his height, make about eleven feet, though
we should be inclined to reduce it to about ten at the ut-
most. He was a professed warrior, and a champion of the
Philistines ; " the staff of his spear was like a weaver's
beam, and his spear's head weighed 600 shekels of iron."
" He was armed with a coat of mail, and the weight of the
coat was 5000 shekels of brass." No prolane history is
equally explicit as scripture regarding a distinct race of
giants of extraordinary size ; and we have united the pas-
sages to be found concerning them, previous to descending
to a later date.

The ancients considered persons whose stature exceeded
seven feet as gigantic. Living giants have certainly been
seen who were somewhat taller ; but the existence of those
who greatly surpassed it, or were double the height, has
been inferred only from remains discovered in the eartU,
and not from the ocular testimony of credible witnesses.
AVere we to admit what has been reported on the subject,
there would be no bounds to the dimensions ofgiants; the
earth would seem unsuitable for them to tread upon. Thus
Strabo speaks of the skeleton of a giant 60 cubics in length,
found near a city in Africa now called Tangier; and with-
out bestowing due reflection on the improbability of the
fact, it is ascribed to Antceus, a reputed gigantic sovereign
of Mauritania, whose veVy existence is still more problema-
tical. The same observation will apply to another skele-
ton 46 cubits in length, alluded to by Pliny, which was ex-
posed bv the overtlirow of a mountain in Crete by an earth-
(luake. ' In the vear 758, during the darker ages, we are

4X2

716

GIANTS.

told, Hint at a place called Totu in Bohemia, a skeleton was
foiiiid wliosc head could scarcely be compassed l)y the arms
of two incii, and whose legs, which arc said to have been
kept a long time in the castle, were 26 feet long. Possibly
this last measurement belongs to the entire skeleton rather
than to a part of it. Simon Majoliis relates, that in the
year 1 1 71, a skeleton 50 feet long was discovered in I'.ng-
land in consequence of a breach made by a river; but we
are not aware that his account, which is in these words, has
any corroborative testimony. Longc ante Vulgosi secu-

t fum, annis Jilus treccntis, anno sciticit \\7\,in Anglia, illu-
x-ione Jiuminis retecte sunt /lumati olim hominia ossa, adliuc
ordine comjiosita. Longitudo totius corfioris inventa est
longa ad fiedes (juinquaginta. In the year 1516, the skele-
ton of a giant 30 feet higli is reported to have been found
near Mazarino in Sicily. The skull was as large as a hog-
sliead, and each of the teeth weighed five ounces, which it
may be remarked in passing, is not a tenth part as heavy as
the reputed tooth of the gigantic king of Bashan. In the
same island, other remains of a giant 30 feet high were dis-
covered in 1548, and two years afterwards, those of a third,
whose height attained 33 feet. Instead of these being en-
tire skeletons, however, it is infinitely more probable that
they were only detached fragments of bones, while conjec-
ture enlarged the wanting parts to the size which is ascribed
to the whole body.

Florus, the Roman historian, in narrating a battle be-
tween Marius and the Teutones, at the foot of the Alps,
describes the king of that people as of wonderful stature.
Cerle rex ipse Tlieutobochus, quaternos, senosque equos
transire solitus, viz. unum quum fiigerit, ascendit : proxi-
vioque in saltu comfireliensus insigne sficctaculum triumjihi

fuit, quijijie vir Jiroceritatis eximiie super tropliaea ipsa emine-
bat. The first part of the sentence is obscure, but the his-
torian in the rest apparently infers, that the stature of the
captive king was such, that he could overlook the trophies
exhibited at the triumph of the consul. In the year 1613,
the French journals relate, that while some workmen were
digging near the ruins of a castle in Dauphiny, in a field
which had long bore the name of the Giant's Field, they
discovered, at the depth of 18 feet, a brick sepulchre, 30
feet long, 12 feet wide, and eight deep, whereon was a grey
stone, inscribed Tlieutobochus Rex. On opening the tomb,
a skeleton appeared, 25 ^ feet long, 10 feet broad across the
shoulders, and five feet deep from back to breast. Each
of the teeth was the size of an ox's hoof, and the leg bones
were four feet lortg. These bones continued to be exhibi-
ted for some time as the identical remains of the Teutonic
king mentioned by Florus, and carried under that name
through Flanders into England. A convent of Dominicans
at Valence, in Dauphiny, lately had part of a humnn leg
bone, and articulation oftiic knee, found near the banks of
the stream Morderi, which they affirmed belonged to a cer-
tain tyrannical giant, Bucant, 22 feet high. He lived on a
mountain, and was slain by one of his own vassals, the Count
de Chatillon ; but to perpetuate his immense stature, the
monks preserved a painting of him in Fresco. Rioiand, a
celebrated anatomist, is said to have written a specific ac-
count, in 1614, of the discovery of a tomb in the suburbs of
St Germains at Paiis, which contained the remains of Isoret,
a giant, 20 feet in heiglit. But we have understood that tlie
same physician called in question the identity of the bones
as being of a human subject, which were exhibited for
those of the Teutonic king. It is recorded, that in the
( ourse of digging a ditch at Rouen, near the Dominican
convent, in the year 1519, a tomb was found, witli a plate
of copper inscribed: " In this tomb lies the noble and puis-
sant lord, the Chevalier Ricon de Vallemont and his bones."
The tomb cuntaiaed a skeleton whose skull held a bushel

of corn, and whose leg bone, about four feet long, reachetl
up to the girdle of the tallest man in company. Plalcrus,
a physician, declares, that at Lucerne he saw real human
bones of a person who must have been 19 feet high ; and
it is calculated, that in the preceding instance, the Cheva-
lier can have been scarce more than a foot shorter. A
voyager to the Canary Islands speaks of the body of one of
the ancient Guanchess, in a cavern in the Peak of Tene-
riffe, as being 15 feet long, and having a head of enormous
dimensions. Several navigators to the Straits of Magel-
lan, both foreigners and Englishmen, affirm, that on ex-
amining graves at Port Desire, they found human skeletons
ten or eleven feet in length, and on passing somewhat far-
ther to the westward, as appears, other bones, in no respect
inferior, were discovered- We shall say nothing of the
giants referred to by Olaus Magnus, who, independent of
men, says that a woman was found who had been killed by
a wound in the head, clothed in a purple cloak, 50 cubits
in length, and four in breadth between the shoulders : Re-
perta est puelta, in capite vulnerala, morla, induta chlamydc
purpurea longitudinia cubitorum quinquaginta, latitudinia
inter humeros quatuor. But if we are to confide in his-
tory, here are examples of gigantic human remains, pro-
gressively decreasing from 60 cubits to 10 feet as the
height of the living being. Whether the historians were
competent judges of the fact they relate, is a dilTercnt en-
quiry ; few, however, will hesitate to reject the gigantic
skeleton spoken of by Strabo, ascribed to Antaeus; or that
supposed to be the body of Orion, exposed by the disloca-
tion of the Cretan mountain. The existence of enormous
giants is conjectured from nothing but their remains, and
it is extremely doubtful if there be authentic accounts of
any living giant having been seen, whose size exceeds the
lowest term of the remains we have quoted.

The ancients acquaint us that, in the reign of Claudius,
a giant named Galbara, 10 feet high, was brought to Rome
from the coast of Africa. An instance is cited by Goro-
pius, an author with whom we are otherwise unacquainted,
of a female of equal stature. A certain Greek sophist,
Proaeresius, is said to have been nine feet in height.
Julius Capitolinus affirms, that Maximinian the Roman
emperor was eight feet and a half: there was a Swede
one of the life guards of Frederick the Great, of that size.
M. Le Cat speaks of a giant exhibited at Rouen, measur-
ing eight feet and some inches; and we believe some have
been seen in this country, within the last 30 years, whose
stature was not inferior. In Plott's History of Staffordshire,
there is an instance of a man of seven feet and a half high,
and another in Thoresby's account of Leeds, of seven feet
five inclies. Examples may be foiuid elsewhere of several
individuals seven feet in height, below whicli, after the
opinion of the ancients, we may cease to consider men
gigantic. A porter belonging to the Prince of Wales,
commonly called Big Sam, though long esteemed of
much larger stature, we believe proved to be only six feet
ten inches. Entire families sometimes, though rarely,
occur of six feet four, or six feet six inches high.

From all this we may conclude, that there may have pos-
sibly been seen some solitary instances of men who were ten
feet in height; that those of eight feet are extremely uncom-
mon, and that even six feet and a half far exceeds the
heiLjht of men in Europe. Neither, as we shall afterwards
explain, is there any reason to suppose that the human
race has degenerated with the progress of time. But first
let us say a few words on a subject which has excited
much controversy, the existence of a nation of giants on
the continent of South America.

The earlier navigators towards the Straits of Magellan
and the jieighbouring coasts, soon remarked the extraordi-

GIANTS.

nary size of the nilives rcpaiiiiic; to the coast; and in t!ie
nai 1 ative of Magellan's own voyage, is an account ol the first
Palagonians, so called by the Portuguese in allusion to a
long measure, who came on board a European vessel.
The stiangers were also visited by others displaying the
same good nature, and those properties which still charac-
terize the inhabitants of the const; they were pleased with
every thing they saw ; the shackles with which Magellan
prepared to make them prisoners, they took for play-things,
and innocently allowed themselves to be fettered, and car-
ried into captivity from a barbarous curiosity. Sir Rich-
ard Hawkins, and Nodal, a Spanish navigator, describe the
natives of the coast as a head taller than Europeans, and of
such stature that the crew of their vessels called them
giants ; and Sir Thomas Cavendish, speaking of those at
Port Desire, says one of their feet measured eighteen
inches long. The Spaniards also, who had formed settle-
ments in South America, seem to have been acquainted
with a tribe of large stature ; and a woman, who had been
many years in captivity, returned with an account of a
whole army of giants. Still there was but a very imper-
fect knowledge of their history in Europe, until the public
curiosity was roused by the narratives of the English cir-
cumnavigators, between the years 1760 and 1770; for the
preceding notices of Turner, who said he had seen a giant
12 feet high on the coast of Brazil, and of Knivet, who had
seen a youth 13 spans in height, attracted no attention. In
the year 1 764, Commodore Byron visited the coast of Pa-
tagonia, and, in describing the inhabitants as of gigantic
stature, concluded, from his own size, that they could not
be less than six feet and a half, or seven feet high ; but he
did not measure any of them. This omission, however, was
supplied by Capt. Carteret of the Swallow sloop of war,
Avhich reached Cape Virgin Mary near the eastern entrance
of the Straits of Magellan in 1766. When he went ashore,
60 or 70 of the natives had assembled, and the number con-
tinually increasing, had augmented next morning to seve-
ral hundreds of men, women and children. They were a
fine race of people, their features large, with tolerably
clear complexions and long black hair ; and on measuring
the size of many. Captain Carteret found it in general frotn
six feet to six feet five inches high ; some were six feet
seven inches, but none taller. Tliis proves the hazard of
conjecture, for I\Ir Charles Clarke, who had accompanied
Commodore Byron, concludes, that of about 500 people,
there was hardly a man less than eight feet high, most of
them considerably more, and some who certainly attained
the height of nine feet, if not above it. The women also,
he infers, were from seven and a half to eight feet. Ex-
cept with regard to the height, the accounts of Captain
Carteret and Mr Clarke coincide; but Captain ^Vallis
further corroborates the words of the former. In the
course of several interviews, he found by "measuring
rods," that the tallest man among the Patagonians was 6
feet 7 inches high; that several were within an inch or
two of that height, but the ordinary size was from 5 feet
10 inches to 6 feet. Both sexes were clothed in skins, and
so much alike, that at first sight it was not easy to distin-
guish them. Their manners were mild and courteous ;
they had a ready apprehension, and were extremely intelli-
gent. Many rode horses of the Spanish breed, fourteen or
fifteen hands high; and it appeared their residence was in-
land, not (?n the coast. Mr Clarke seems aware, that
the credibility of his relation might be called in question :
Captain Carteret's was written very soon after the inter-
view, and was accompanied with regrets, that the orders
of his commanding officer were of such a description as to
ivi'ecludea more f.imiliar intercourse with the Patagonians.
VVe call them Patagonians, in coinciilencc with the name

bestowed on them by their earlier visitors ; but their pro-
per appellation is Tehuels, or Tehuelhets, — ;is we leai'ii
from a missionary who resided many years in the country,
and whose remarks will probably solve the dilTiculties
which have been excited by the accounts of transient navi-
gators. The Tehuelhets occupy a mountainous tract of
South America, intersected by deep vallies, and wanting
rivers of considerable size, bounded on the cast by a vast
desert, and on the north by a tribe called Chcchehets.
Their stature rarely exceeds seven feet in height, and
often does not reach six feet. About forty or fifty years
ago, they had a chief seven feet and some inches high,
with whom the missionary Mr Falkner was well acquaint-
ed ; but he affirms, that he never saw any Indian above ari
inch or two taller; that is, we conceive, seven feet and a
half. The brother of this chief did not exceed six feet.
They are a strong well made people, not so tawny as the
other Indians, and some of their women as white as Spa-
niards : they are restless and nomadic, chiefly mounted on
horseback, and always in motion. Another tribe, or as
some suppose, a different division of the same tribe, called
Puelches, dwells on the western side of the continent, where
bounded by the straits of Magellan on the south. They
are very large, several being nearly seven feet six inches
high. One branch of the tribe Huilliches, in the same vi-
cinity, is denominated Great Huilliches, from their larger
stature ; and the Chechehets are tall and stout, like their
neighbours the Tehuelhets, but speak a different dialect :
and both acknowledge the Levuches, of whom we have no
particulars, as their head. Most of those tribes are eques-
trian ; but there is one called Yacanacunnees, or foot-peo-
ple, because they always travel on foot, and have no horses
in their country. Many concurring circumstances tend to
prove, that the Patagonians of the older authors, and also
of more recent navigators, are the various races of South
Americans now described, though at this day greatly re-
- duced from their former numbers. Larger stature, per-
sonal appearance, courteous disposition, a nomadic life,
and a variety of peculiarities, are common to both. Thus
it seems undoubted, that certain tribes of mankind exist on
the South American continent, whose size considerably
exceeds the common stature of mankind, that they might
reasonably be esteemed giants when compared with their
Portuguese or Spanish visitors, who probably were of very
ordinary dimensions ; but that the extreme height to which
the tallest reach at present, does not exceed seven feet and
a half. We read, that the ancient Germans, Gauls, and
Caledonians, were men of great bulk and strength: magna
corpora et tantum ad hnpetum valicia, — as expressed by the
historian of Agricola. Had these nations been jireserved
pure, and without intermixture, perhaps their stature
might have been preserved also: Yet it is scarcely to be
denied, that the stature, or at least the strength of mankind,
improves with civilization. The savages of no part of the
New World, if we except the Patagonians, of whose pow-
ers we have never obtained a comparative view, are equal-
ly strong as the inhabitants of Europe; and it has been as-
certained, that the natives of Great Britain are individually
the strongest of all the human race hitherto known. The
warmer climates, as well as those where extreme cold pre-
vails, are equally unfavourable to strength and stature; and
each seems to have a decided influence on the mind : It
is within the temperate regions of the earth, that nature has
endowed mankind with the most distinguished mental and
personal energies.

From all th;.*. has hitherto been explained, the solitary in-
stances of gigantic stature occurring in Europe, as well as
uncommon diminution of the human size, ought to be assi-
milated to that species of monstrosity, where the aberrations

718

GlA

GIA

of nature tend cithci' to excess or defect. Symmetrical
giants arc seen, it is true, tliough very rarely, and also
symmetrical dwarfs; but more generally tliere is some
disordered organization in their persons, particularly in the
head and extremities. These arc small in giants in propor-
tion to their other members ; but the head of dwarfs is al-
most invariably very large. Giants arc seldom endowed
with physical power or mental energy : the period of lile
is, for the most part, abridged in dwarfs. Nature seems to
languish in the preservation of both, but more conspicuously
in regard to the former: They want strength, and are defi-
cient in courage: nay, it is said, that on some extraordinary
occasion, when several dwarfs and giants were assembled at
Vienna, a quarrel ensued, and one of the dwarfs fought a giant
to considerable advantage. Did we not view these beings as
mere exceptions, the scale of disparity in the human sta-
ture would not be so limited as is wont to be supposed.
The difference between a person of two feet four inches,
said to be the shortest dwarf, and another of eight feet,
whom we shall here esteem the tallest man, being five feet
eight inches, is enormous. But, in Great Britain, the scale
of size does not, at an average, range through five inches,
nor probably in the rest of the world. That gigantic and
pigmy stature is a simple accident, is proved from nume-
rous i'acts. They are alike the children of ordinary pa-
rents ; and their descendants, instead of resembling them-
selves, resemble their forefathers. Besides, all the other
members of their own generation are usually of the com-
mon size. Nevertheless, with proper precautions, the hu-
man race, as that of other animated beings, may be im-
proved ; of which a notable instance is said to exist at
Berlin, in the posterity of a very fine grenadier regiment
formed by Frederic. Thus the stature of an entire tribe
may be preserved, as in South America. In Europe, it is
observed that men of the largest dimensions are generally
of fair complexion, but that their muscles are soft, and
their pulse slow and languid.

There are several reasons why mankind have been
prone to believe in gigantic nations. First, among the
Jews, from its being recorded in scripture; secondly, from
the mythologies and fabulous histories of the Greeks and
Romans ; thirdly, from the discovery of enormous bones
in the earth, belonging to no existing race of animals in
the place where they were found. This last has been deem-
ed one of the strongest confirmations; and unquestionably,
without due consideration, it might stagger the most in-
credulous. Suetonius tells us, that in the time of Augus-
tus, huge bones were shewn as those of former races of
men; and St Augustine reasons on the existence of giants
before the deluge, from observing a tooth an hundred times
exceeding the common size on the shores of Cilicia. At
the present times, bones of immoderate dimensions are fre-
quently dug out of the earth, which it has been reserved
for modern anatomists to prove are those of extinct ani-
mals, instead of gigantic men. But it is not surprising,
if, in the ages of ignorance, they were supposed to be
such ; and even now, osteology is so little understood by
the vulgar, that few can tell, on the first discovery of a
bone or a fragment of it, whether it has belonged to a
man or an animal. Those enormous skulls or leg-bones,
which would have created a race of giants sixteen or
twenty feet high, have therefore been the relics of ele-
phants, or of some of those extinct animals, whose di-
mensions surpassed those of any which at present inhabit
the known world.

There is no evidence whatever, that th? modern tribes
of mankind have degenerated in size. The catacombs of
ancient Egypt and Palestine; the cenotaph, if it be truly
such, in the great pyramid ; the tomb of Alexander the

Great ; are all calculated for bodies of ordinary dimension -
The truth is still more satisfactorily established from the
mummies which are yet withdrawn from their subterra-
nean receptacles in Egypt, and the caverns of the Canaiy
Islands. In the most ancient sepulchres of Britain, those
apparently anterior to tlie introduction of Christianity, no
remains are discovered which indicate the larger stature
of the inhabitants than our own. In every part of the
world, domestic implements and personal ornaments, ma-
ny centuries old, are obtained from tombs, from bogs and
mosses, or those cities overwhelmed by volcanic eruptions,
which would be ill adapted to a gigantic race of ancestors
See Pliihsofilikal Transaclions, vol. xxxiv. and Ix. ; Jour-
?iat de PhyaUjiic, 1778 ; Havvksworth's Voyages, vol. i. ii. ;
Kircher, AJumlus Subceiraneus, lib. viii. Cuvier, Oase-
?>ie>is Foaailes ; Ilieronimus Magius, Miaccltanea; Florus,
lib. iii. cap. 3.; Pliny, lib. viii. cap. 16.; Augustine, Vc
Civitale L)ii. (c)

GEW'T's Causeway. To traditionary ignorance we
may safely attribute a name, by which a basaltic portion
of the coast of Antrim has been distinguislied. Fin
M'Coul, or, as he is classically denominated, Fion Mac
Cumhal, desirous to punish the daring inroads of the
Scots, resolved to

"Bridge the ocean for the march of war."

DllUMMOXU.

And as all the heroes of his standing were either gods,
demigods, or giants, we cannot be surprised, that an ap-
pearance bearing such close resemblance to artificial com-
bination, should have been attributed to one or other of
these agents.

The Giant's Causeway must not be limited to the par-
ticular mole or quay to whicli the traveller is conducted,
when he approaches the coast from Bush Mills, the usual
resting-place. It extends, as we have already observed un-
der the article Fairhead, througliout the whole of Ben-
gorehead, from Port Moon on the east, to Port na Ganye
on the west ; a district of coast extending to more than a
mile and a half in a direct line ; and in every part of it
deeply indented with the most beautifully diversified bays.

Upon approaching the Causeway, the touiist is sure to
be assailed by a host of ragged natives, whose attentions
it is utterly impossible to get rid of: he must therefore
quietly submit to take a few of them into his pay in the
character of guides, in order to defend him from the im-
portunities of the rest. Accompanied by these unwelcome
guests, he is conducted down a steep path, which was form-
ed at a great expence by the late Earl of Bristol, Bishop of
Londonderry, to a natural mole which projects consider-
ably into the sea; and here he is told, that this is the Gi-
ant's Causeway. The impression which generally follows
is something like disappointment, so much has been heard,
and consequently so much expected of the place. This
feeling, however, is only of a momentary nature; for the
mind has no sooner time to reflect on the admirable sym-
metry of an object with which nature seems purposely to
have sported, in order to baffle the feeble intellect of man-
kind, tlian wonder and delight replace the apathetic feel-
ing, which had nearly produced an ejaculation of discontent.

This mole or quay is entirely composed of basaltic co-
lumns : it is part of an immense bed, which here dips into
the sea, and rises, as it is traced eastward, until it reaches
a height of 200 feet above the level of the sea. These co-
lumns are arranged perpendicularly, and so accurately
fitted into each other, that the point of a knife is not to be
introduced between them, excepting where the seams have
been opened by the action of the weather. This collection
of columns extends from the base of Iha cliff into tlic sea

GIA

GIB

719

ubout 725 fccf, ])at't of it at low water being still covered.
It is divided into three parts, which are denominated the
Orcat, the Middle, and the Little Causeway. These sepa-
rations arc occasioned by two parallel dykes, which tra-
verse the columns in a northern direction; and to these
perhaps the preservation of this mole is to be attributed ;
lor allhou!:!;h they are excavated, and worn down on the
surface, still they remain firm at the base, and afford an
immoveable support to the columns. These are of all
shapes, from the triangular prism to the figures of nine
sides. It is seldom that any among the multiplicity of
forms which present themselves are very symmetrical,
those of the pentagon and he.xagon are most common ;
and they sometimes, though rarely, occur perfectly equi-
lateral. In the highest part of the mole, the columns are
from 25 to 30 feet in length, extremely straight, and well
propoitioned : to this place the name of the Loom has
been given. The prisms are wonderfully sharp in the
angles, and present the very curious phenomenon of arti-
culation throughout their whole extent. This articulation
is not performed by a simple section of the column, but
the joints are let into each other in the manner of the ball
and socket, so that the angles of the under joint extend in
the form of triangular projections, over those of the one
above it. These projections or spurs, as they have been de-
nominated, are easily detached ; and in some places, par-
ticularly among the columns at the Organ a little east of
the mole, where they are 45 feet in height, this mutilation
renders the articulation particularly remarkable. The
joints are from eight inches in length to a foot and a half,
and sometimes even two feet; they are often longest towards
the bottom. In diameter, the columns may average about
16 or 20 inches; they are wonderfully uniform in this re-
spect; those of a triangular and square form are very
rare, as well as those of nine sides.

The height of the cliff which overhangs this mole, is
about 330 feet above the level of the sea, and varies from
that to 400 feet, which is the elevation of Pleskin, one of
the principal promontories towards the eastern extremity
of this basaltic district. This portion of the coast is deep-
ly indented; each little bay is denominated a port, and dis-
tinguished by its particular name, as Port Nofer, Port na
Spania, &c. and along the whole coast the basaltic forma-
tion is beautifully exposed to view in one of the most mag-
nificent faQades perhaps in the world. In some of the pro-
montories, the ranges of columns placed over each other,
and separated by amorphous trap, extend to the i. umber of
four or five. This is particularly the case in the great
headland which bounds tlie east side of Port na Spania.
At Port Pleskin, the visible ranges of columns are only
two, but here they are magnificently displayed, and on a
larger scale than in any other part of the causeway. The
number of beds of trap are altogether about 16, partly
very soft amygdaloid mixed with much zeolite, and partly
irregular prismatic basalt. These are here and there in-
terspersed with beds of bright red ochre; on one of which,
at an elevation of about 200 feet from the sea, the first bed
of columnar basalt rests, measuring about 44 feet in thick-
ness. On this a bed of iriegula.ly prismatic Ijasalt lies,
54 feet thick ; and on it another colonnade, still more mag-
nificetit tiian the first.

Pleskin is the highest elevation of this basaltic district ;
from it the beds all dip to right and left, and that which
we have just mentioned, as resting on a surface of red
ochre, 200 feet above the level of the sea, on the west,
sinks below its surface at the mole, which in fact is merely
a portion of it, and on the cast it disappears in the middle
of Port Moon. The view from the summit of Pleskin, is
one of the most imposing that can be imagined ; the series

of headlands, which arc seen in perspective from this point,
form one of the grandest pictures of coast scenery, that it
is possible to conceive.

The substance of the columnar basalt is extremely com-
pact, of a dark iron grey colour, fine grained in the tex-
ture, and conchoidal in the fracture, with sharp edged an-
gular fragments. It is totally different from the substance
of which Fairhead is composed ; and perhaps we could not
point out where the distinction between basalt and green-
stone is better defined, than at Fairhead and the Giant's
Causeway. The blocks or joints are extremely sonorous.
Small pieces of calcedony, fine semi-opal, and even precious
opal, have been found imbedded in it : it is occasionally cel-
lular, and in some places presents the very singular phe-
nomenon of containing fluid water ; a circumstance which
may be observed in the columnar basalt that occurs in a
quarry not far from the summit of Pleskin. This fact has
been urged by Dr Richardson as an incontestible proof of
the impossibility of basalt being of igneous origin ; but
the theorists on that side of the question have no difficulty
in accounting for it ; we may remark, however, with re-
gard to the value of the fact itself, that it cannot be of
much consequence ; for if pieces of the stone be removed
for a time from the quarry, water will no longer be found
in them, having made its esca])e; hence, if the stone be
sufficiently porous to admit of the escape of the fluid, it
cannot be denied that water may also be admitted through
the same channel.

The Causeway has one considerable advantage over its
rival Staffa, being much more accessible ; it is distant about
six miles from Colerain, between which and Belfast there
is a regular mail-coach communication.

See the Rev. Mr Dubourdieu's Statistical Survey of An-
trim ; Dr Hamilton's Letters on the County of Antrim ; the
Giant's Causeiuay, a Poem, by W. H. Drummond, D. D. ;
the Rev. Richard Pocock's Account of the Giant's Cause-
way, in the Phil. Trans. 1747-8, vol. xlv. page 124; and
Dr Richardson's Paper on the basaltic country in Ireland,
in the Phil. Trans. 1808, vol. xcvjii. p. 187. (s. n )

GIBBON, Edward, Esq. celebrated for the elegance
and depth of his literary and historical works, was the
first child of the marriage of Edward Gibbon, Esq. and
.ludith Porten. He was born at Putney in the county of
Surry, on the 27th of April O. S. 1737. His maternal
grandfather was Mr James Porten, a London merchant.
By the father he was descended from John Gibbon, who is
recorded to have been the marmorius or architect of Ed-
ward III. The strong and stately castle of Queensbo-
rough, which guarded the entrance of the Medway, was
a monument of his skill, and obtained for him the reward
of a hereditary toll on the passage from Sandwich to Sta-
nar, in the isle of Thanet. The family was at that time
possessed of lands in Kent, and the elder branches con-
tinued to possess them without much alteration till the
present time. Our author, who was descended from a
younger branch of the family, counts among his kindred
several individuals of rank, learning and political emi-
nence. He was the only surviving member of a family,
consisting of six sons and one dauglUer, all of whom,
himself only excepted, were snatched away in infancy. In
his Memoirs of himself, published by his friend Lord Shef-
field, he makes use of the following tender expression of
his feelings : " My five brothers, whose names may be
found in the parish register of Putney, I shall not pretend
to lament; but from my childhood to the Itresent hour, I
have deeply and sincerely regretted my sister, whose life
was somewhat prolonged, and whom I remember to have
sacn an amiable infant." His own constitution was so ex-
tremely feeble even from his birth, that, anticipating his

720

GIBBON.

early loss, his (\uhei's prudence had ihe name of Edward
repealed in the Ijaptism of each of his sons, that this here-
dilary appellation might assuredly belong to tlic heir. It
is stranu;e to say, that such a succession of tnelancholy
casualties did not wean the parents of this last hope of
their family from the ceremonies and gaieties of life ; and
that the historian acknowledges, with grateful warmth,
that even the maternal office was supplied by his aunt Mrs
Catherine Porten, to whose gentle and unremitted assidui-
ties he docs not hesitate to ascribe the wonderful preser-
vation of his life. His tender attachment, and his filial duty
to this lady, place his character in a very amiable point of
view. At the age of fifteen, " the mysterious energies"
of his constitution began to display themselves, and from
that time till within a few years of his death, he enjoyed
an extraordinary and uninterrupted course of good health.
In his nursery lessons, and at the day school at Putney, he
shewed some quickness of apprehension, and such a rea-
diness in arithmetical exercises, as leads him to suppose,
that, had he persevered in such studies, he might have ac-
quired eminence as a mathematician. At the age of seven,
he was committed to the care of Mr Kirkby, a domestic
tutor, who remained with him eighteen months, and taught
him, among other things, the elements of the Latin lan-
guage. Young Gibbon was sent in his ninth year to the
grammar school of Kingston-upon-Thames, where he con-
tinued one among a crowd of boarders for two years, (with
the exception of intervals occasioned by illness and vexa-
tions,) and from which he was removed home in conse-
quence of the death of his mother. As his grandfather
Mr Porten's house at Putney was near his father's, he
again enjoyed the society and kindness of his beloved
aunt ; and having acquired some taste for reading poetry
and romance while at Kingston, she encouraged his taste,
and supplied him abundantly with books from her father's
library. Some months having thus elapsed, Mr Gibbon,
senior, finding himself inconsolable for the death of his
wife, removed from Putney, where every object was as-
sociated with afflicting remembrances, to tlie rustic and
retired family residence at Buriton, in Hampshire. Soon
after, Mr Porten's affairs fell into disorder, so that he
judged it prudent to abscond for a time. Mr Porten's
unmarried daughter, Catherine, now found herself des-
titute, and partly with the design of being independent,
but chiefly actuated by the motive of superintending her
nephew's education, and watching over his health, she re-
solved to open a boarding house for Westerminster school ;
and she and her young charge removed to her new house
in College street, in January 1749. In the autumn of 1750,
she accompanied him to Bath, on account of his bad health,
where her own avocations compelled her to leave him un-
der the care of a faithful domestic.

After various changes of place, and the complete es-
tablishment of his health, Gibbon was entered a gentle-
man commoner of Magdalen College, Oxford, in April
1752. At this ancient and far-famed seat of learning, he
passed fourteen months, which, with bitterness of spirit,
he declares to have been the most idle and unprofitable of
his life. For this he does not blame himself, lor he declares
he had now a keen appetite for knowledge ; but the relax-
ed discipline and customs of the university. He describes
it as a place in which a young man may keep terms, spend
money, and acquire bad habits, but totally unfit for stimu-
lating genius to exertion, or promoting the attainment of
knowledge and wisdom.

He declares that all tlie direct advantage which he re-
ceived from Oxford was the reading of some of the come-
dies of Terence ; and while he admits that some colleges
may be better regulated tlian that to which he belonged,

that many eminent men liave been educated there, and
that some practical improvements have been adopted since
his time, he still insists on the necessity, at the same time
that he admits the difficulty of a great reformation. He
even complains that his moral conduct, and religious in-
struction, were completely neglected, and that, without a
single exhortation or lesson, he was left, by the dim light
of his catechism, to grope his way to the chapel and com-
munion table. His sedentary habits, and infirm health in
early life, had led him to indulge in desultory reading;
and though his father was a man of the world, who cared
little about religious controversy, yet his pious aunt had
taken pains to instruct him, and had encouraged him to
ask questions and propose objections, which she was not
always well qualified to answer. At Oxford he read with
avidity certain of the writings of Parsons the Jesuit, and
of the learned and profound Bossuet, in defence of the
doctrines of the Catholic faith, and having formed an in-
timacy with a young man of the same college to which he
belonged, who had imbibed opinions favourable to the
Cliurch of Rome, he actually became a proselyte, and
with the zeal of a martyr he went to a Catholic priest in
London, renounced the Protestant faith, and was admitted
into the pale of the Romish church.

He then wrote a long letter to his father, explanatory of
his new profession, and the grounds ol it. His father,
equally indignant and amazed at the intelligence, some-
what imprudently spoke of his son's change of religion,
and the gates of Magdalen College were thenceforth shut
against him. This only added zeal to the faith of the young
disciple, and his father, after much deliberation and sor-
row, determined to exile him for some years from his na-
tive country, and to fix him at Lausanne in Switzerland,
under the roof of Mr Pavilliard, a Calvanistic minister, in
the hope that his errors would be corrected. Thither
young Gibbon accordingly went, rejoicing that he was
counted worthy to suffer for what he deemed the cause of
truth. In his new situation, he enjoyed few of the com-
forts, and none of the luxuries to which he had been ac-
customed. His accommodation was mean, and the econo-
my of the house by no means suited to the elegance of an
English taste. Yet he soon became not merely reconciled
to, but even pleased with his situation. The conversation,
the books, but above all, the kindness and confidence of
his amiable host, promoted his intellectual improvement,
and his happiness. His mind too was amply gratified in
its appetite for religious controversy ; and !NIonsieur Pa-
villiard, who, in his letters to Mr Gibbon, senior, extols
the progress of his pupil, informs him from time to time
of the tenacity with which he held his opinions, and the
obstinate perseverance with which he debated every point
of his faith. At length the various articles of the Romish
creed vanished like a dream, and after full conviction, he
was a communicant on Christmas day 1754, in the Presby-
terian church of Lausanne. As this forms a most impor-
tant part of Mr Gibbon's life, and as it tends to throw light
on the subsequent scepticism wiiich too plainly marks his
writings, we have dwelt more fully on it than we should
otherwise have done. The following oracular sentence
contains the only allusion which he himself makes to its
influence on his opinions. " It was here that I suspended
my religious inquiries, acquiescing with implicit belief
in the tenets and mysteries which are adopted by the gene-
ral consent of Catliolics and Protestants."

The incident next in importance, which distinguishes
Mr Gibbon's residence at Lausanne, was the honourable
attachment which he forujed for the accomplished Made-
moiselle Susan Curchod, the daughter of an obscure Pro-
testant clergyman in the neighbouriiood. The lady favour-

GIBBON.

721

cd his addresses, but they were opposed by his fatlier, on
■whom he fomid hiniscli' cotiipletely dependent, and to
whose vclo he submitted with a degree ol apparent sang-
froid not easy to be explained, consistently with the pro-
fessed warmth of l-.is aft'eclion. This interesting female
attained afterwards a melancholy eminence as the wife of
Neckar. As the sensitive Rousseau speaks in terms of
keen disappvobation ol the conduct of Gibbon on this oc-
casion, it is lair to state, that the latter afterwards renew-
ed his intimacy with her as the wife of the celebrated ex-
minister, and lived for many years on a footing of easy and
affectionate [amiliarity with herself and her husband.

At leiiglh, alter an absence of nearly five years, he was
permitted to reiurn to England about the beginning of sum-
mer 1758. In the interval, his father had formed a new
connection by marriage, and our learned stranger was re-
ceived with a degree of kindness which filled him with
satisfaction. Atler two years passed in study or amuse-
ment, his father and he rashly offered their sei'vices in the
Hampshire mihlia, in which they were appointed major
and captain, and kept under arms and in constant service
for nearly two years. During this lime, young Gibbon,
though deeply disappointed at the sacrifice he had made,
and of which he had by no means anticipated the extent,
endeavoured to acquire a knowledge both of the art of
war and of British tactics, and acknowledges, with great
honesty, that "the captain of the Hampshire militia has
not been useless to the historian of the Roman empire !

When at Lausanne, he meditated, and began, the com-
position of a small work, entitled Essai sur C Etude de la
Literature, which he finished in England, and published,
with a dedication to liis father, in 1761. This work was
written in French, a language in which his daily habits of
conversation and study when at Lausanne, had rendered
him more adroit than in his vernacular tongue. His chief
object in this couji d'essai, was to revive on the continent,
and especially in France, the decaying taste for the lan-
guages and literature of Greece and Rome. This juve-
nile production was well received, both at home and
abroad. After the peace of 1763, he again went to the
continent, and on his way to his fiwourite Lausanne he vi-
sited Paris, where he remained for three months, and was
introduced to the acquaintance of D'Alembert, Diderot,
and many other of the literati of the day. Having passed
through Dijon and Besangon, he arrived at Lausanne in
May 1762, and, fascinated with the renewal of the scenes,
studies, and associates of his early years, he remained
there till the following spring. Having prepared himself,
by extensive study, for a projected tour through Italy, he
set out in April 1764, and going by Parma and Florence,
proceeded through Sienna to Rome, on entering which re-
nowned city he was almost overwhelmed with emotions of
enthusiasm. It was at Rome, on the 15th of October,
that, as he sat musing amidst the ruins of the capital,
while the bare-footed friars were singing vespers in the
Temple of Jupiter, that, as he informs us, he conceived
the idea of writing the Decline and Fall of the Roman Em-
pire ! He proceeded south to Naples, revisited Rome and
Paris, and arrived at his father's house in June 1765. Every
spring he attended the monthly meeting of the militia, and
was promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colonel comman-
dant. Wearied with the details of this service, he re-
signed his couMiiand in 1770. An annual visit at Buriton,
from his much-loved friend M. Deyverdun of Lausanne,
formed the most agreeable enjoyment of his life during
this period; and, with the aid and encouragement of that
learned and elegant scholar, he proceeded some length in
preparing a history of the rise and progress of liberty and
independence in his adopted country, Switzerland. The

Vol. IX. Part II.

great difficulty of procuring materials, and liis ignorance
,of the German language, induced him to desist from the
completion of this interesting design. In 1767 and 1768,
he in his turn materially assisted M. Deyverdun in the
jjtiblication of a work intended to be annual, entitled,
Memoirs Litcraires de la Grande Dretagne. This work,
of which the third volume was nearly ready, was disconi-
tinned, in consequence of M. Deyverdun agreeing to ac-
company on his travels as tutor, a young friend of Mr Gib-
bon's. The next publication of Mr Gibbon, is an able and
spirited, but most severe answer to that chapter in War-
burton's " Divine Legation of Moses," which represents
the sixth book of the jEneid as containing a veiled account
of the initiation of TEneas, in the character of a lawgiver,
into the Eleusinian mysteries. This essay was published
in Englisli anonymously early in 1770 ; and tl>e author,
with great ingenuity, shews, that the sixth book is not an
allegory, but a f;<ble founded on the popular belief, and
that there is not a shadow of probability in the hypothesis
of Warburton. Tlw Bishop and his friends remained si-
lent under this attack, and the voice of the learned pro-
nounced that Gibbon was niastcr of the field.

The grand project of " the History of the Decline and
Fall of the Roman Empire," which had been formed in
the intei'esting circumstances already alluded to, was ever
present to the mind of the author, though its execution
was for some time delayed ; and the embarrassment of his
father's affairs, as well as the decline of his health, pre-
vented Mr Gibbon from pursuing liis studies with his usual
ardour. In November 1770 his father died, and during
the two succeeding years, the arrangement of his affairs
occupied much of his time and attention. Finding him-
self at length comfortably settled in a house in London,
furnished with a valuable library, and having long pre-
pared for the task, he entered seriously on the composi-
tion of his great work ; and when he published the first
volume in quarto, his success was so great, that the first
impression was exhausted in a few days, and a second and
third edition were speedily called for. Letters of compli->
inents flowed in upon hiin from various quarters. These
were speedily succeeded by the strictures, attacks, and
confutations of those who were offended with his I5th and
16th chapters, which contain an unfair and insidious ac-
count of the rise and progress of Christianity. The prin-
cipal assailants were Dr Watson, now Bishop of LandaflT,
Taylor of Norwich, Mr Milner of Hull, Lord Hales, Mr
Duvies of Oxford, and Dr Priestley. That he was much
stung by these publications, he does not attempt to deny.
But the only one of them which he answered from the
press was the pamphlet of Mr Davies, because, as Mr
Gibbon alleges, he had attacked not so much ihc J'ait/i as
the fidelity of the historian. This answer is entitled, ^
Vindication oy some Passasfes in the \5t/i and \6th Chaji-
ters of the History, &.c. and if he does not shew great can-
dour in his defence, the praise of ingenuity and learning
will not be denied to him. After the lapse of a conside;!--
ablc interval, the second and third volumes were publish-
ed. The three last volumes, chiefly composed at Lausanne,
were printed in England, and published in May 1788.

In 1774, Mr Gibbon was returned as a member of par-
liament from the borough of Leskeard, and was a unifmm
but silent supporter of administration during the American
war. Timidity, he says, was fortified by pride, and even the
success of his pen discouraged tlie tridl of his voice, lie
held his scat during eight sessions, and seems to have en-
joyed the confidence, and occasionally assisted the councils,
of the administration. Through the favour of Lord North,
of whom Gibbon always speaks with high respect and es-
teem, he Was appointed one of the lords commissioners of

4 Y

722

GIBRALTAR

trade aiut plantations, and had thus a clear addition to his
income of between 700/. and 800/. a year. The board was
abolished in the i'oUowing session by a small majority of
votes in the house of Commons, but was soon afterwards
revived. Mr Gibbon held the place for three years, that
is, till the board was abolished by Mr Burke's bill. Mr
Gibbon having got into next parliament, through Lord
North's influence, for Lymington, tells us, that he uni-
formly supported the famous coalition between that minis-
ter and Mr Fo->i /roni a /irinci/ile of gratUude. This con-
fession, to be sure, though hardly becoming the dignity of
a historian, or the morality of a philosopher and patriot,
who may be expected to act in a public cause, not from
private feeling, but from conviction, does yet sound as a
weakness leaning to virtue's side; but most unfortunately
for his reputation, even as a friend, he adds : " My vote
was counted in the day of battle, but I was overlooked in
the division of the spoil. There were many claitnants
more deserving and more imlwrtunate than myself." A
more unblushing and more unvarnished acknowledgment
of venality we do not recollect to have seen ; and we must
confess that it lessens Mr Gibbon, in our moral estimate, to
a degree that is painful to contemplate. One wonders that
the man who had the meanness thus to act, had the can-
dour to acknowledge such meanness in a memoir designed
for the public eye. But, in truth, with all the extent of his
learning, and all tlie force of his genius, he does not ap-
pear to have discovered the unworthiness of thus betraying
the interests of his country for a private end.

The attachment of Mr Gibbon to Lausanne, and his
friendship for M. Deyverdun, who was now residing at his
delightful villa there, induced him to form the romantic
design of settling at that place, and living as an inmate
with his friend. This wish, no importunities of his friends
at home could prevent him from accomplishing ; and ac-
cordingly he realized his project in 1783. His friendship
with M. Deyverdun continued uninterrupted till the death
of that respectable man, which happened in 1789. Mr
Gibbon often lamented this event in language that shews
how deeply he estimated his loss ; but by an arrangement
v/ith the heir, he continued to reside in the house till 1793,

when the horror's of the French Revolution, and the domes»
tic aflliction of his friend Lord Shefliekl, induced him to
return to England. He was looked up to while at Lau-
sanne with respect and admiration, and nis house was the
centre of leariung and hospitality. The preference which
he shewed to that little fiaradiae, as he used to call it, made
the inhabitants regard him as a father ; and the regrets
that followed his departure are a most honou -able tribute
to his name. He arrived at the house of Lord Sheffield in
London about the beginning of June, and spent the sum-
mer and autumn chiefly at Sheffield Place, where he seem-
ed to enjoy good health, and where his conversation was
the delight of all who heard it. For several years he had
been subject to occasional attacks of gout. Towards the
close of this autumn he was attacked with a dropsical tu-
mour, the formation of which he had too long concealed. ,
After submitting to several operations, after each of which %
he anticipated a coiriplete recovery, inflammation came on, '
and he expired in London on the 15th of" January 1794, in
the 57th year of his age. We understand that the friend-
ship of Lord Sheffield induced him to erect a handsome
monument to his memory.

That Mr Gibbon possessed, in an eminent degree, many
of the qualities whicii constitute a good historian, will readi-
ly bo admitted, even by those who most disapprove of some
of his sentiments. Extensive, varied, and profound learn-
ing, unwearied perseverance, great coolness of judgment,
belonged to him in a high degree ; and though his own
diffidence leads him to disclaim a place beside our two
great Scottish historians, Robertson and Hume, we appre-
hend that he is not much inferior to either. He has ably
supplied a most important desideratum in historical know-
ledge, and has filled up the chasm which divided ancient
from modern history. Though the history of his early life
cannot excuse, it leads us, in some degree, to extenuate
the disingenuousness with which he appears to be chargea-
ble in discussing the nature and propagation of Christiani-
ty ; and the able answers which have appeared, have, we
hope, effectually counteracted the baneful effects of his
niiocanceptions or misrepresentations. (/)

GIBRALTAR.

GiBRALT.\.R, the Moils Caljte of the Romans, is a celebrated
promontory in Andalusia, the most southern province of
Spain, stretching into the Mediterranean, towards the op-
posite promontory of Ceuta on the Barbary coast. It is
situated in Lat. 36" 6' 30" North, and Long. 5° 19' 31"
East, from the meridian of Greenwich.

The mountain of Gibraltar is of an oblong form; its
summit consists of a sharp craggy ridge, running in a di-
rection nearly from north to south. The line of this ridge
is undulated, being somewhat higher at the two extremi-
ties than in the centre. The whole rock is about seven
miles in circumference, and forms a promontory about
three miles in length. Its breadth varies with the indenta-
tions of the shore; but it no where exceeds three quarters
of a mile. It is joined to the continent by a low sandy
isthmus, the greatest elevation of which, above the level
of tlie sea, does not exceed ten feet; and its breadth, at the
base of the rock, is about 900 yards ; but it grows consi-
derably broader towards the country. This isthmus, with
the mountain and the opposite coast of Spain, forms the
Bay of Gibraltar, which is nearly eight miles and a half
long, and upwards of five miles broad. The most eleva-

ted point of the promontory, towards the south, which is
the summit of the Sugar Loaf, stands 1439 feet; the Rock
Mortar, the highest point towards the north, 1350; and the
Signal House, which is nearly the central point between
these two, 1 276 feet above the level of the sea. The wes-
tern side of the mountain presents a gradual slope, inter-
spersed with abrupt precipices. The northern front, fac-
ing the Spanish lines, is perfectly perpendicular, with the
exception of a narrow passage of flat ground towards the
north-west, which leads to the isthmus. The eastern side
consists, in a great nteasure, of a range of precipices ; but
about a third of its perpendicular height is covered by a
bank of sand, which rises from the Mediterranean in a ra-
pid acclivity. The southcKn extremity of the mountain
falls, in a rapid slope, from the summit of the Sugar Loaf
into a rocky flat, of considerable extent, called Windmill
Hill. This flat is bounded by a range of precipices, at the •
southern base of which there is a second rocky flat, of si-
milar form and extent, and surrounded also by a precipice,
the southern extremity of which is washed by the sea, and
forms Europa Point.
This promontory has become famous, in mpdern timesj

GIBRALTAR.

723

For the site of a fortress,- which nature and art have con-
spired to render the strongest in Europe, peihaps in the
ivorld. The Bay of Gibrahar afl'ords so coniniodious a
harbour for shippiuc;, and the promontory itself seems so
completely formed by nature for commandini; the nan-o\v
entrance into the Mediterranean from the ocean, that a
town of considerable strength probably stood somewhere
in this bay from ine earliest times. Indeed, ruins of great
antiquity are ^till distinguishable at the bottom of the bay,
on the banks of the (iuadaranrjuc, about four miles noi'th-
west from Gibraltar, which are supposed to be the remains
^f the ancient city of Cartcia, or Heraclea. But the moun-
tain itself docs not appear to have been an object of par-
ticular attention in early times; and the present town and
fortress are indebted for their name and existence to the
Moorish invaders of the pcninsuhi.

About the commencement of the ciglith century. Count
Julian, a nobleman of great wcakii and {[ifluence, whose
daughter had been violated by Roderick, the last of the
Gothic ntonarchs of Spain, determiiied to revenge the dis-
honour done to his family; and having secretly retired
into Africa, acquainted Moiisa, the Saracen governor of
the western provinces, with the distracted state of the
kingdom, and promised to assist him in an attempt to de-
throne tlie Gothic monarch. iVIuusa communicated the
proposal to his sovereign, the Caliph Ai Walid Ebn Ab-
dahnalic, who resolved to try the practicability of the pro-
ject ; and accordingly a small detachment, consisting of
too horse, and 400 foot, was embarked in the year 7 11,
under the command of Tarif Ebn Zarca, who landed near
the present town of Algeziras, and finding the country al-
inost defenceless, ravaged the neighbouring towns, and re-
turned laden with spoils. In the ibllowing year an army
of 12,000 Saracens was assembled for the invasion of
Spain, and Tarif was again appointed to the ciiief com-
mand, lie landed on the isthmus between Mons Calpe
and the continent ; and having determined to establish a
port on the coast, by means of wliich he might secure a
communication with Africa, and at the same time cover
his retreat, in case he should be unfortunate in his future
operations; he preferred the strong natural situation of
Mons Calpe, and gave orders to erect a castle on the face
of the hill, which the Saracens now called, in compliment
to their general, Gibel Tarif, or the mountain of Tarif;
v/hence the modern name of Gibraltar. From an inscrip-
tion discovered over the ])rincipal gate of this once mag-
nificent pile, the period of its completion is ascertained to
be about the year 725. Having left a garrison at Gibral-
tar, Tarif marched into the country, and seized upon seve-
ral of the towns in the neighbourhood. In the mean time,
King Roderick, having received intelligence of his ap-
proach, assembled a numerous army to oppose his pro-
gress. A battle was fought near Xercs, in Andalusia; and
after a long and sanguinary contest, victory declared in fa-
vour of tlie Saracens, and left them in possession of the
whole kingdom.

From this period the Moors continued masters of Gib-
raltar, until the beginning of the 14ih century, when it was
wrested from them by the victorious arms of Ferdinand,
King of Castile. In the year 1333, Aboinelique, son of
the Emperor of Fez, was dispatched with assistance to the
Moorish King of Granada, and landing at Algeziras, im-
mediately laid siege to Gibraltar. Alonzo XI. wl-.o was
then upon the throne of Castile, was prevented from
marching to its relief by a rebellion in his kingdom, and
by the approach of Mahomet, King of Granada, towards
his frontiers. The fortress was attacked with great judg-
ment and bravery, and defended, with equal obstinacy, by

the governor, Vasco Perez dc Meyra, v. ho was compelled,
however, to surrender, after a five months siege. Having
quelled the rebellion, and obliged Mahomet to retire,
Alonzo had advanced wiUiiii a short distance of Gibraltar,
when he was informed of the capitulation. Having re-
solved, however, to allcmpt its recovery, before the Moors
could victual and repair it, he encamp d before the town
live days after it had surrendered. But after several seri-
ous attacks ha<l been made upon the castle, Mahomet, Kin;;;
of Gi-anada, having joined Abomeliqiie's forces, their com-
bined army encamped in the rear of the Spaniards, extend-
ing across the isthmus from the bay to the Mediterranean.
Being thus placed in an extremely critical situation, Alonzo
was at length obliged to listen to an accommnrlation, in
consequence of which he was permitted to retire unmo-
leited. In the beginning of the year 1349, Alonzo again
encamped before this imijortant fortress ; and, in the course
of several months, the castle was almost reduced to capi-
tulate, when a pestilential disorder carried off a great num-
ber of the besiegers, and, among the rest, Alonzo himself,
who died, much lamented, on the 25th of March 1350. The
Spaniards immediately afterwards raised tiie siege. The
descendants of Abomelique continued in quie* possession
of Gibraltar till 1410, when it was seized and retained by
Jusaf 111. King of Granada. In 1435, Henry de Guzman,
Count de Niebla, lost his life in an unsuccessful attack upon
Gibraltar. In 1462, a great part of the garrison having
been withdrawn, lo assist one of the parties in a civil war
wliich broke out in Granada, a Spanish army was collected
from the neighbouring garrisons, and Gibraltar was be-
sieged. The inhabitants defended it with great resolution ;
but the besiegers having been reinforced, the garrison sur-
rendered to John de Ciuzman, Duke of Medina Sidonia,
son of the unfortunate Count de Niebla; and thus was this
important fortress finally wrested from the Mahometans,
after they had possessed it during 743 years. This con-
quest was so acceptable to Henry IV. of Castile and Leon,
that he added it to his royal titles, and gave it for arms,
ffiilrs, a castle, /iro/ifr, with a key pendant to tiie gate, o;- ;
which arms have ever since been continued. In the year
1540, Gibraltar was surprised and pillaged by Piali Hamet,
one of Barbarossa's captains. During the reign of the
Emperor Charles V. tlie fortifications of the town were
modernised and augmented by Daniel Speckel, a German
engineer; after which the garrison was thought to be im-
pregnable.

From that period there is a chasm in the history of Gib-
raltar down to the year 1 704, when this fortress was wrested
from the dominion of Spain by the English, under Sir
George Rooke. Sir George had been sent into the Medi-
terranean with a strong fleet, in the spring of that year, to
the assistance of Charles, Archduke of Austria ; but not
having been able to succeed in any enterprise of impor-
tance, it was at length resolved, in a council of war, to
make a sudden and vigorous attempt -pon Gibraltar. The
fleet anived in the bay on the 2istof July ; and 1800 Eng-
lish and Dutch, commanded by the prince of Hesse d'Arm-
stadt, were landed on the isthmus. The governor havmg
refused to surrender upon being summoned, the cannon-
ade was commenced with such vivacity and effect, that, in
five or six hours, the enemy were driven from their guns,
especially from the New-mole head. The armed boats
were then dispatched to take possession of that fortifica-
tion ; but some pinnaces having pushed asliore before the
rest came up, the Spaniards sprung a mine, which blew
up the works, and killed a number of men. The assail-
ajus however advanced, and took a small bastion halt way
between the mole and the town ; upon which the gover-
4 Y2

724

GIBRALTAK.

nor, being again summoned, thought proper to capitulate ;
and, on the 24th, the Prince of Hesse took possession of
the gates.

The capture of Gibraltar by the English could not fail
to excite considerable alarm in the courts of Madrid and
Versailles ; and its recovery being considered as of the
last consequence to the cause, the Marquis de Villadarias,
a grandee of Spain, was ordered to besiege it. On the
11th of October, the Marquis opened his trenches against
the town ; and on the night of the 29lh he had resolved to
attack the place by sea and land, at five different points,
had it not been most oppprtunely reinforced and supplied,
on that very day, by the fleet under Sir John Leake. Never-
theless, the Spaniards still entertained hopes of taking the
fortress, and formed the desperate design of surprising the
garrison, although the British admiral was before the
town. On the 31st of October, 500 volunteers took the
sacrament never to return till they had taken Gibraltar.
Fortune at first favoured the enterprise, and they succeed-
ed m scaling Charles the Fifth's wall, and surprised and
put to death the guard at Middle Hill ; but having been at
length discovered, they were vigorously attacked by a
strong detachmMit of grenadiers, and the whole party were
either killed or made prisoners. In the beginning of De-
cember, the garrison received the long-expected succours;
and the Spanish general being also reinforced with a con-
siderable body of infantry, on the 11th of January 1705,
made an attack with 60 grenadiers o( the works at the ex-
tremity of the King's Lines ; but two officers and several
others being killed, the rest retreated. The attack, how-
ever, was renewed on the following day, by 500 or 600
grenadiers, French and Walons, supported by 1000 Spa-
niards, under Lieutenant General Tuy. Their disposition
was, to storm a breach which had been made in the Round
Tower, at the extremity of the King's Lines, and another
in the intrenchment on the hill. The detachment for the
upper breach mounted the rock at dead of night, and con-
cealed themselves in the clefts. At day-break they ad-
vanced to the point of the intrenchment, and compelled the
party who defended it to retreat. At the same time the
Hound Tower was stormed by 300 men, in spite of a
vigorous defence. But the garrison being at length alarm-
ed, the assailants were charged with such bravery, that
they were repulsed ; and the Tower was retaken after it
had been in their possession upwards of an hour. The
Marquis de Villadarias was soon afterwards superseded
by the Marshal Tesse, a French general ; but the place
was now so well supplied, that the Marshal withdrew his
troops from the trenches, and converted the siege into a
blockade ; drawing an intrenchment across the isthmus to
prevent the garrison from ravaging the country. The
Prince of Hesse remained in the place while the battei'ies
were repaired. He also made some additions to the for-
tifications, and left the garrison much stronger than it was
before the siege. Major General Ramos, who had been
present during the siege, was then appointed governor.
He was succeeded by Colonel Roger Elliot ; during whose
government, in the month of April 1706, Gibraltar was
made a free port, by a special order from her Majesty
Qeen Anne.

In the year 1720, the Spaniards formed a secret design
of surprising Gibraltar, under the pretence of relieving
Ceuta, then besieged by the Moors. A formidable force
was accordingly assembled in Gibraltar Bay, under the
command of the Marquis de Leda ; but the British minis-
try had timely notice of these proceedings ; and such pre-
xautions were taken, that the Spaniards were obliged to
abandon the project. From that period, Gibmltar rcmain-
.^ unmolested, tjU the latter end of the year 1726, when

the Spaniards, having assembled an army in the neigh-
bourhood of Algcziras, encuinped on the 20th of January
1727, on the plain below St Roque, and began to erect a
battery on the beach to protect their camp. T)ie fortress
had undergone considerable alterations since the siege in
1705. Several new works had been constructed on the
heights above the lines, which were distinguished by the
name of AV'illis's batteries ; the Prince's lines were also
extended to the extremity of the rock ; and an inundatiorr
was formed out of the morass in front of the grand bat-
tery. The Count de Las Torres commanded the Spanish
forces, amounting to near 20 000 men ; and soon after his
camp was formed, he advanced within reach of the garri-
son. The British military and naval commanders, having
no instructions, were for some time at a loss how to actj
but the Spaniards having, at length, sufficiently discovered
their hostile intentions, the lieutenant-governor withdrew
the out-guard, and on the afternoon of the 1 1th of February,
opened the old mole, and Willis's batteries, on the enemy's
workmen. The enemy, however, still persisted in carry-
ing on their works ; and on the morning of the 22d, the
Count opened on the garrison, with 17 pieces of cannon,
besides mortars. On the 3d of March he opened a new
battery of 22 guns on the old mole and town ; and on the
8th another of 15 guns, bearing also upon the old mole,
which, it seems, proved a troublesome battery to the wes-
tern flank of their approaches. On the 21st of April, Lord
Portmore, the governor, arrived with reinforcements to the
garrison. On the 26th the Count opened a new battery
against Willis's, and the extremity of the Prince's lines.
Their batteries now mounted 60 pieces of cannon, besides
mortars. The firing continued on both sides, until the
evening of the 12th of June, when dispatches arrived with
a copy of the preliminaries of a general peace, upon which
all hostilities ceased.

Overtures had been made by his Majesty George I. to
restore Gibraltar to Spain, if the parliament would consent
to the restitution ; but the measure being strongly oppos-
ed, was relinquished by the minister. In 1730, Lieute-
nant General Sabine was governor of Gibraltar. During his
government, the Sjianiards erected the forts and lines
across the isthmus, about a mile from the garrison, which
effectually prevent any communication with the country,
and are of considerable advantage in case of a siege.

Although the Spaniards had been defeated in three dif-
ferent attempts to recover Gibraltar, they still continued
to look upon that fortress with a jealous eye, and seemed
only to wait for a favourable opportunity of wresting it, if
possible, from the dominion of Great Britain. No such
opportunity, however, occurred, until the war in wliich
England was engaged with her American colonies. France
having espoused llie cause of our Transatlantic enemies,
the court of Madrid thought proper to come forward with
an offer of mediation, upon terms to which the belligerent
powers could not accede. The refusal of Great Britain
was followed by a decliralion of war on the part of Spain.
It was obvious that this war was undertaken principally
with a view to the recovery of Gibraltar ;- and accordingly
a contest ensued for the possession of that celebrated for-
tress, which will be ever memorable in the military annais
of this country.

At this period. General Elliott was governor of Gib-
raltai-, Lieutenaiu-Generai Boyd lieutenant governor, and
the garrison consisUn of 5332 men. On the 21st of June
1779, the coninuinicauon betwotn Spain and tne garrison
was closed, by an order from Madrid. In the mean time,
preparations had been privately n.ade for the defence of the
place, as soon as inttiiigence was received of the proba-
bility of a war ; and when the first hostile indications of the

GIBRALTAR.

725

Spaniards were perceived, the northern guards were rein-
forced, land port barriers were sliut, and an artillery officer
was ordered to Willis's batteries, to observe the move-
ments of the enemy, and protect the Devil's-tower guard.
In short, every precaution was taken to insure the safety
of the garrison. In the month of July, the Spaniards form-
ed a camp on tlie plain below St Roque, which was daily
reinforced with additional regiments of cavalry and in-
fantry ; and large parties were constantly employed in
landing ordnance and military stores at Point Mala. The
garrison, in the mean time, were not less active. The
works at Willis's were put in the best repair, and new bat-
teries erected on the heights of the north front. A new
battery was also begun in the navy-yard, as a resource, in
case the enemy's operations should make it necessary to
lay up the ships. In the montli of August, the enemy
were enabled to enforce a strict blockade ; their army was
now in force before the place; their squadron under Ad-
miral Barcelo, who commanded in the Bay, could prevent
succours from being thrown in by neutral vessels; whilst
their grand fleet, united with that of France, would be
superior to any which Great Britain could equip. The
plan, therefore, seemed to be, to reduce Gibraltar by fa-
mine; and the place, indeed, might have been in imminent
danger, had not the garrison fortunately received a supply
of provisions, &c. in the preceding month of April. On
the 27th, a fascine-work was observed to be begun upon
the glacis north of Fort St Philip, which afterwards prov-
ed to be a mortar-battery. The enemy's camp was now
considerably increased. It consisted of two lines, (inde-
pendent of the Catalonians, who were separately encamp-
ed,) extending from Point Mala in an oblique direction into
the country, towards the Queen of Spain's Chair. In the
beginning of September, their workmen in the lines were
busily employed in filling up with sand tlie north part of
the ditch of Fort St l^hilip, completing the mortar-battery
before mentioned, and raising the crest of the glacis of
their lines in different places. From the noiss often heard
during the night, and the number of lights seen, it was
conjectured that they worked without intermission. These
operations of the enemy now began to engage the atten-
tion of the garrison ; and the governor did not think it
prudent to allow them to proceed any longer with im-
punity. A council of war was accordingly summoned on
the 11th, to confer upon the measures proper to be pur-
sued ; and on the morning of the 12tli, tlie artillery officers
were ordered to the batteries on the heights, tiie Devil's-
tower guard was withdrawn, and the governor opened on
the enemy from Green's lodge, (a battery constructed
since the blockade commenced,) Willis's and Queen Ciiar-
lotte's batteries. This fire disconcerted the enemy ; their
advanced guards were in a short time compelled to retire,
the workmen assembled in the lines were obliged to dis-
perse, and the cavalry galloped off towards the camp. For
some hours afterwards, scarcely was there an individual to
be seen within the range of the guns of the gairison. The
firing was continued on the subsequent days, as circum-
stances directed. The enemy, however, appeared to bear
our fire very patiently in their lines ; their pai-tics con-
tinued working on tlie morlar-batteries, and a bni/au, or
covered-way, was begun, to make a safe conmuinicalion
from the lines to their camp. In the be;^inning of October,
the enemy's army, accoiding to the intelligence received by
the garrison, consisted of sixteen battaliorjs of infantry, and
twelve squadrons of horse ; which, if tiie regiments were
complete, would amount to about 14,000 men. The whole
weic ujider the command ol Lieut. Gen. Don Martin Al-
varez de Sota Mayor.

Ths great command which the garrison had over the

enemy's operations from the Green's lodge battery, in-
duced the engineers to mount still higher, and endeavour
to erect a battery on the summit of the northern front. A
place was, therefore, levelled, and a road for wheeled car-
riages begun at Middle-hill. On the 12th of October, the
platform on the summit of the rock was completed ; and the
gun being mounted, the enemy's forts were, on the follow-
ing daf, saluted with a few rounds of shot and shells.
This gun was mounted on a traversing carriage, and was
distinguished by the name of the Rock-gun. On the even-
ing of the 19th, the enemy's working parties were uncom-
monly busy ; and on the following morning at day-break, the
garrison were surprised on observing 35 embrasures open-
ed in their lines, forming three batteries ; two of fourteen
guns each bore on our lines and Willis's, and one of seven
apparently for the town and Waterport. They were cut
through the parapet of their glacis, and situated between
the barrier of the lines and Fort St Philip. The governor
ordered the artillery to direct their fire on these works,
and on the seven-gun battery in particular, where the
enemy had a party finishing what was left imperfect in the
night. Our workmen now became extremely diligent ;
new communications and works were raised in the lines ;
and on the 27th, guns were carried up, to be in readiness
for a new battery to be erected below the Rock-gun. Noth-
ing remarkable occurred during the months of November
and December. Both parties were occupied in improv-
ing and augmenting their works. The garrison, however,
now began to be greatly distressed for want of provisions ;
not only bread, but every article necessary to the sup-
port of life, was procured with difficulty, and only to be pur-
chased at exorbitant prices. This distress was considerably
relieved in the month of January, when Sir George Rod-
ney arrived in the bay with a convoy, after having defeated
the Spanish fleet under Langara. At the same time, the
garrison was reinforced by the second battalion of the 73d
regiment. After the departure of Sir George Rodney with
the fleet, in the month of February 1780, the Spaniards re-
sumed the blockade with the same vigilance as before. No
other event of importance occurred until the month of
June, when the enemy made an unsuccessful attempt to
destroy our vessels in the bay by means of fire-ships, which
was defeated by the skill and intrepidity of the seamen.
This attempt, however, induced the governor to direct par-
ticular attention towards that quarter of the garrison. Bat-
teries for heavy metal were made on the rock above Par-
son's lodge, at Rosia ; and orders were given to clear the
new mole of shipping, that the ordnance might have more
liberty to play. On the morning of the 1st of October, it
was observed that the enemy had raised an efiaulement,
about six or seven hundred yards in advance of their line?.
It was about thirty yards in extent, and was erected near
the windmill, or tower, on the neutral ground, about 1100
yards distant from our grand battery. The garrison were
at a loss to conceive what could induce the enemy to act in
a manner so contrary to the usual mode of approaching a
besi«ged place, by erecting a work so distant, and which
had no connection with tlieir established lines. But it now
appealed evident, that they had determined on a more se-
rious attack, in cascihe second blockade should prove un-
successful. On the night of the 21st, the enemy threw
sand in the front of their efiaulcment, to cover it from our
fire ; and on the 26ih, they lengthened it tothe west about
thirly yards. The night of the 28th, they' erected two
large traverses in the rear for magazines From the com-
pact appearance of ibis new work, which was distinguished
by the name of the Mill battery, the garrison concluded that
it was intended for a mortar battery. On the night of the
17th of November, two places d'armes for musketry were

726

GIBRALTAR.

tlirown up ontlie flanks of the Mill battery; the parapets
i'orintd simicirclesatljoinin^' the battery, but altci wards ex-
tended, in an oblique direction, towards tlie lines. On the
ni^htof the 23:1, the enemy bei^an an approacb from the
lines to this battery, which they completed during the
inonthof December. On the 12ih of April 178 1, the gar-
rison, who for some lime had been greatly in want ol provi-
sions and necessaries, was relieved by the arrival of the Heel
under admiral Darby. As soon as the van of the convoy
had come lo an anchor ofl'tlie new mole and Rosia bay, ihe
enemy opened a smart fire from all the batteries which
bore upon the garrison. The fire was returned by ihe lat-
ter ; and .ne bombardment was continued during the 13th
and 14th. On llie I5th and following days, it was continu-
ed with greater vivacity on the part of the enemy ; but the
battel ies of the garrison discontinued their fire, and the
guns at Willis's were drawn liehind the merlons, to secure
them against the enemy's shot. On the 16tb, 18tli, and
19th, tlie enemy's gun-boats attacked the shipping in the
bay ; but were obliged to retire, after doing some mischief.
At this time, the batteries at Willis's exhibited a very dis-
orderly and ruinous appearance ; the merlons were consi-
derably damaged, and some of the cannon dismounted and
injured. The engineers and workmen were therefore em-
ployed in repairing them. The remainder of the month of
April was remarkable for excessive rains, attended with
most dreadful thunder and lightning, which, in addition to
the fire from the enemy, had an awful and tremendous ef-
fect during the night The bombardment continued warm
and well supported, but apparently without any particular
object on the part of the besiegers. In the month of May,
their fire became more regular, and amounted, upon an
average, to 1500 rounds in the twenty-four hours. Their
cannonade was directed principally against our upper bat-
teries. On the 23d, the gun and mortar boats renewed their
attack upon the camp, with more dreadful effect than up-
on any former occasion; seven individuals within the gar-
rison were killed, and twelve or thirteen wounded. The
boats continued to repeat their vexatious visits during the
month of June, and kept the garrison in a constant state of
alarm, as experience had proved their destructive effects.
The governor, therefore, resolved to retaliate, by endea-
vouring to annoy the enemy's camp from the old mole head,
and this experiment was found to succeed. At ihe same
time, some brigs were ordered to be cut down and convert-
ed in'.o /irames, which were to be moored between the new
mole aiid Ragged Staff, at such a distance fiom the works
as to be easily protected, and yet far enough out to keep
their boats at a respectful distance.

In the month of November, the besiegers had advanced
so far in completing their approaches, and their batteries
exhibited so perfect and formidable an appearance, that the
governor thought the time was now come to strike a blow,
which should frustrate all tlieir views, by destroying these
stupendous works, whicli had cost ihcni such immense la-
bour and expence. Having procured the necessary in-
foimation from deserters, this important design, which had
not been previously communicai-d to the garrison, was put
in execution on the night of the 26th, A stiong detach-
ment was formed into three colunmi, and tools for demo-
lishing the works delivered to the workmen. The destina-
tion of the columns having been made knov.n to the differ-
ent officers, and the necessary niders given, the detachment
began its march, about a quartca- before three in ihe morn-
ing of the 27th. The enemy, thus taken by surprise, and
assailed with irresistible artlour, gave way on every side,
and precipitately abandoned the works. The business was
completed by the exertions of the workmen and artillery.
The batteries were soon in a state for iJic firc-faggots to

operate; and the (lames spread with astonishing rapidity.
In the course of an hour, tlic object of the sortie was fully
effected ; and trains having been laid to the magazines,
the troops were drawn off". Not the smallest effort was
made by the enemy to save their woiks, or avenge their
destruction. Scarcely had the rear of the detachment got
within the garrison, when the principal magazine blew up
with a tremendous explosion; throwing up vast pieces of
timber, which, falling into the flames, added to the general
confljgration. This important object was accomplished
with little loss on the part of the garrison. I'or sometime
the enemy did not think proper lo take any measures to-
wards extinguishing Ihe ffames ; on the 3otl) their balte-
lies continued burning in five different places; and when
they ceased to smoke, the works seemed to be completely
destroyed, nothing but heaps of sand remaining. In the be-
ginning of December, they seemed as if suddenly roused
from their reverie ; upwards of a thousand men were at
work, making fascines, £cc. From these operations the gar-
rison concluded that they were resolved to restore tiieir
works, when sufficient materials were prepared. I-'orsome
months the enemy continued to repair their works, but a|)-
parently only for defence. In the monlh of May 1782, it
was discovered thai the besiegers had a new plan ol opera-
tions in view. On the 14lh several ofthe large ships at Al-
gtziras struck their jards and top-masts, and a gi-eat num-
ber of men appeared on board them ; which circumstances
led to the belief, that thev were intended to be fitted up as
Jloating batteries, for a grand attack lo be made upon the
garrison from the sea ; and this opinion was confirmed in
the afternoon, by their beginning to cut down the poops of
two of them. The garrison, on the other hand, made various
dispositions to repel this meditated attack. Tne works at
Water|)ort were strengthened ; an additional number of
grates for heating shot were distributed along ihe line-
wall ; and the navy lowered their yards and lop-masts, to
be in readiness to act on shore at a moment's notice. In
the month of June, the army of ihe besiegers was rein-
forced by a strong body of French troops ; and the Duke dc
CriUon assumed the command of the whole. The Duke
had recently returned from the conquest of Fort St Plii-
lip, in Minorca, and brought with him M. d'Arcon, a famous
French engineer, who had projected the plan of attacking
Gibraltar with battering-ships, constructed upon such prin-
ciples, that they were considered as equally impregnable
and incombustible. In the beginning of August, the ene-
my completed the first parallel of their approaches. On the
15th the Count d'Artois arrived in the camp of the com-
bined army, to serve as a volunteer at the siege.

The enemy's works, on the land side, were now rapidly
advancing to perfection ; but being still in an unfinished
stale, and not sufficiently protected, it was judged proper to
make another attempt lo destroy them. Lieut. Gen Boyd,
the lieutenant governor, recommended the immediate use
of red-hot shot against the land batteries ; and General El-
liot acquiesced in the proposal. Accordingly, on the morn-
ing of Uie 8th of September, a brisk fire was opened from
all tlie northern batteries which bore upon the western part
of ihe parallel, and was supported through the day with
great vivacity. The effect of the red-hot shot and car-
casses exceeded the most sanguine expectations. In a few
hours, the Mahon battery, with the two-gun battery on its
flank, and great part of the adjoining parallel, were on fire ;
and the flames, notwithstanding the enemy's exertions to
extinguish them, burnt so rapidly, that the whole of their
works were consumed before night. The St Carlos's and
St Martin's batteiies were likewise so much deranged, that
the enemy were obliged to take down the greater part.

On the 12th, the combined fleets of France and Spain

GIBRALTAR.

727

arrived in the Bay from tlic westward ; and every tiling
now seemed to indicate the approach of the grand attack.
The garrison of Gibraltar, at this time, scarcely consisted
of more than 7000 efleclive men. The accumulated forces
of the besiegers, on the other hand, assumed the most for-
midable and imposing attitude. There were assembled in
the bay 47 sail of the line ; ten battering ships, deemed per-
fect in design, and esteemed invincible, carrying 212 guns ;
innumerable frigates, xebciiues, bomb-ketches, cutters,
gun and mortar boats, and smaller craft, for disembarking
men. On the land side were most stupendous batteries
and works, mounting 200 pieces of heavy ordnance, and
protected by an army of nearly 40,000 men, commanded by
a victorious and active general, and animated by the imme-
diate presence of two princes of the royal blood of France.
About seven o'clock in the morning of the 13th, the bat-
tering-ships got under way, and stood to the southward, to
clear the men of wai' ; then toojc to the north, and a little
past nine, bore down in admirable order for their several
stations, taking llicir places successively to the right and
left of the admiral, who was moored in a two decker about
900 yards off the King's bastion. They were permitted to
chuse their distance without molestation ; but as soon as
the first ship dropped her anchors, the fire from the garri-
son commenced. The cannonade then became tremendous;
which may be easily conceived, when it is considered that
400 pieces of the heaviest artillery were playing at the
same moment. AVhile the battering-ships attacked the
garrison from the sea, the besieged were at the same time
warmly annoyed by the flanking and reverse fire of the ene-
my's land-batteries on the isthmus. The latter, however,
they totally disregarded, directing their undivided atten-
tion to the battering- ships. For some hours, the attack
and defence were so equally well supported, a« scarcely to
exhibit any appearance of superiority on either side. The
led-hot shot began to be used about twelve o'clock, but did
not become general till between one and two. Incessant
showers of hot balls, carcasses, and shells of every species,
were now poured upon the enemy from all quarters; and
as the masts of several of the ships were shot away, and
the rigging of all in great disorder, the garrison began to
entertain hopes of a speedy and favourable result. Smoke
was observed to issue from the upper part of the flag-ship,
which seemed to increase, notwithstanding the constant ap-
plication of water ; and the admiral's second was perceived
to be in the same condition. Confusion was now apparent
on board several of the vessels ; in the course of the even-
ing their cannonade gradually abated, and about seven or
eight, it almost totally ceased. As the evening advanced,
signals of distress were made to their friends on shore, and
several boats were seen to row round the disabled ships.
At this period, our artillery caused dreadful havoc among
them. A little before midnight, a wreck floated in, upon
which were 12 men, who alone escaped, out of threescore
who were on board their launch. About an hour after n)id-
night, one of the battering ships was completely in flames ;
and by two o'clock, she appeared as one continued blaze
from stem to stern. Another to the southward was also on
fire; and between three and fouro'clock, other six indicat-
ed the efficacy of redliot shot. The sea now presented a
spectacle of horror; men crying from amidst the flames
for pity and assistance ; others, on board those ships where
the fire had made little progress, imploring relief with the
most expressive gestures and signs of despair ; while se-
veral, equally exposed to the dangers of the opposite ele-
ment, trusted themselves on various pieces of the wreck,
in hopes of reaching the shore. Brigadier Curtis, with the
marine brigade, humanely exerted bimttelf in entleavouring
tQ save as many as possible of these wretches j and he suc-

ceeded in bringing oft' about 350, many of whom were se-
verely, and some of them dreadfully wounded. Meanwhile
the flames reached the magazine of one of the battering -
ships to the northward, which blew u|) about five o'clock
with a terrible explosion. In a quarter of an hour after-
wards, another in the centre of the line met with a similar
fate. Of all these formidable floating batteries, upon which
the enemy had rested their most confident hopes of success,
not one escaped destruction; and on the 14th of Septem-
ber, the patient and intrepid garrison had the satisfaction of
contemplating one of the most signal and complete defen-
sive victories on record.

The remainder of this celebrated siege presents few in-
cidents of moment. About the middle of October, the gar-
rison was relieved by Lord Howe, in the face of the great-
ly superior combined fleets ol France and Spain. In the be-
ginning of the month of February 1783, intelligence ar-
rived of the signature of the preliminaries of a general
peace ; and thus terminated an enterprise, upon which the
resources ol France and Spain were lavishly but fruitlessly
expended ; an enterprize towards which the eyes of all
Europe had long been directed in anxious expectation ;
and which, in its glorious result, threw additional lustre on
the military character of Great Britain.

Since the period ol this memorable siege, no serious at-
tempt has been made upon Gibraltar; nor is it likely, con-
sidering the greatly improved state of the defensive works,
that any future attack will be attended with the slightest
probability of success.

In an account of Gibraltar, a brief description of the town
and fortifications will be thought necessary. The town is
situated at the foot of the north-west face of the hill, and is
irregularly fortified. It communicates with the isthmus by
a long narrow causeway, (serving as a dam to an inunda-
tion,) which is defended by a curtain, with two bastions,
mounting 26 pieces of cannon, a dry ditch, covered way,
and glacis, well mined. These are strongly flanked by the
King's, Queen's, and Prince's lines ; works cut in the rock
with immense labour, and scarped, to be almost inaccessi-
ble. Above the lines are the batteries at Willis's, and
others at different heights, until they crown the summit of
the rock. These elevated batteries mount between 50 and
60 pieces of heavy ordnance, and entirely command the isth-
mus below. The Old mole, to the west of the Grand bat-
tery, forms also a very formidable flank, and, with the lines,
a cross fire on the causeway and neutral ground. This
battery has been found so great an annoyance to the besieg-
ers, that, by way of distinciion, it has long been known by
the appellation of the JOevil's tmgue. From the Grand
battery, along the sea line, looking towards the bay, the
town is defended by the North, Montague's, Prince of
Orange's, King's, and South bastions. King's bastion is a
very complete piece of fortification, commanding the bay
from New to Old mole heads. It mounts twelve 32 poun-
ders, and four ten-inch howitzers in front, ten guns and
liowiizers on its flanks, and has casemates for 800 men,
ivith kitchens and ovens for cooking. Montague's is much
smaller, mounting only 12 pieces of cannon, with a case-
mate for 200 men, communicating with the Old mole. In
1783, a cavalier, for two guns, was erected upon this bas-
tion; and another work of a similar nature, for five guns,
on the north bastion of the Grand battery. From the south
bastion a cuitain extends up the face of the hill, and ter-
minates, »t an inaccessible precipice, the works of the
town. In this curtain is the south-port gate, before which
and the south bastion is a dry ditch, with a covered-way
and glacis. At the east end, above the gate, is a large flat
bastion, connected witli the curtain, and mounting 13 guns,
bearing on the bay, &c. This work is covered by a demjs

728

GIBRALTAR.

bastion, that joins the precipice. Above the precipice, an
old Mooiisli wall is conliiiued to the ridge of the rock ; in
the front of which a curtain with loop-liolcs and redans,
built in the reign of Charles V. and called after his name,
extends to the top, eficctimlly cutting ofl' all communica-
tion in that quaitcr. iMom the south bastion, a line-wall
is continued along the beach to the New mole, where there
is an irregular fort, mounting 25 guns. This line-wall is
divided by a small bastion of eight guns, with a retired
work in tlie rear, called the Prince of Wales's lines. Near
the south bastion is a quay or wharf, called Ragged Staff,
■where the supplies for the garrison are usually landed.
The communication to it is by spiral wooden stairs, and a
draw-bridge opening into the covert way ; in front of which
is a small work of masonry, mounting two gunsi At the
New mole head is a circular battery for heavy metal, join-
ed to the mole fort by a strong wall, fraise.l ; having a ban-
quet for musketry, with two embrasures opening towards
tlie bay. From the New mole fort to the north end of Ro-
sia bay, a parapet is continued, and batteries erected, as
situations dictate. The works at Rosia are strong, and act
as Hanks to each other; they are close along the beach,
which is low, and have a retired battery of eight guns in
the rear. From the south point of Rosia bay, the rock con-
tinues to ascend, by Parson's Lodge, to Camp-guard, and
Buena Vista. In this direction, a line-wall is raised, with
cannon at different distances. At liuena Vista there are
several guns en barbet, which have great command ; and
the hill towards Europa, is slightly fortified. The rock
then descends, by the Devil's Bowling- green, to Little Bay.
At this post, which is entirely surrounded with precipices,
there is a barbet battery, flanking the works to the New
mole; from thence the rock continues steep for a consider-
able distance, when the line-wall and batteries recommence,
and extend irregularly to Europa Point, the southern ex-
tremity of the garrison. A few batteries at Europa ad-
vance, and a post at the Cave-guard, terminate the works.
But this part of the garrison is greatly strengthened, by
the retired and inaccessible lines of Windmill-hill, which
aie situated within musket-shot of the sea, and have great
command in that quarter.

Considerable alterations have taken place in the town and
fortifications, since the celebrated siege. The town, in-
deed, was entirely destroyed at that period by the enemy's
fire ; but it has been since completely rebuilt, and greatly
enlarged. The actual number of inhabitants, exclusive of
the military, amounts to about 12,000. The British set-
tlers constitute but a small proportion of this population,
which is principally composed of J«;ws, Genoese, Spaniards,
and Moors. The strength of the gavrison generally con-
sists of five regiments of infancy, six companies of artille-
ry, and two companies of military arlificeu; in all about
4500 men. The fortifications have recently unders-one
great improvements. The Waterport fvont has 0<?en en-
tirely rebuilt, and greatly strengthened, and carried farther
out into the bay. The inundation at Landport has been car-
lied close into the body of the rock by two deep ditches,
so as to render the approach of the garrison from the land
bide completely inaccessible, except by the narrow cause-
way between the bay and the inundation. The upper bat-
teries at Willis's have been entirely rebuilt and greatly
improved, and a new magazine erected there. Extensive
subterraneous galleries have been cut in the rock, with nu-
merous embrasures in them, bearing on the isthmus and
the causeway leading to the garrison. These batteries pre-
sent a most formidable flanking fire, which it would never

be in the po»er of a besieging army to silence. A new
line of defence has also been erected at Europa Point, at
the southern jiart of the rock, to guard against any attempts
of an enemy to land in that direction. At Rosia Bay, im-
mense naval storehouses have been built ; and a tank has
been sunk there, which is capable of containing vvater suf-
ficient for twenty sail of the line for six months. A new
pier is also in the course of being erected there, extending
nearly three hundred yards into the sea ; which, wiicn com-
pleted, will afford perfect shelter to four sail of the line,
besides double that number of transports. The Spanish
lines and forts, erected on the nt-utral ground, about a mile
from the garrison, and wliich afforded great advantages to
a besieging army, were blown up and completely destroy-
ed by the British, on the 14tli of February 18!0, on the ap-
proach of a French force towards that quarter. The guns
and stores were previously brought into Gibraltar. It is
to be hoped that the British government will never consent
to the restoration of these works.

Among the most remarkable buildings at Gibraltar, the
remains of the old Moorish castle are the most conspicuous.
It was erected by the Moors on their first invasion of Spain,
and still retains the traces of its former magnificence. This
antique structure is situated on the north-west side of the
hill, and originally consisted of a triple wall, the outer in-
closure descending to the watei's eilge ; but the lower
parts have been long since removed, and the grand battery
and Waterport erected on tlieir ruins. The walls, at pre-
sent standing, form an oblong squaie, at the upper angle of
which is the principal tower, where the governor or al-
caide resided. A Moorish mosque still exists within the
walls, in a state of entire preservation, having been used as
one of the grand powder-magazines during the siege ; and
there is also a neat Morisque court, and a reservoir for
water. The other principal buildings, are the Convent, or
governor's quarters; the lieutenant-governor's house, a
modern structure ;* the admiralty house, or naval provision
store-house, t formerly a monastery of white friars ; the sol-
diers' barracks, victualling-office, store-house, south bar-
racks, and the navy hospital.

The principal mass of the mountain of Gibraltar, con-
sists of a grey, dense, calcareous rock, by mineralogists
called primary marble ; the different beds or strata of
which may be examined, with great accuracy, in the north
front, where there is a complete vertical section, of up-
wards of 1300 feet of the rock. The strata are from 20 to
50 feet in thickness, running nearly from east to west, and
having a dip in that direction at an angle of about 35 de-
grees. This species of rock, when it occupies large dis-
tricts, is always found to be cavernous. At Gibraltar, the
caves are manv, and some of great extent. The most re-
markable is St Michael's cave, situated upon the southern
part of the mountain, about 1000 feet above the level of the
sea. The mouth is only five feet wide ; but on descending
a slope of earth, it widens considerably, leading to a spacious
hall, incrusted with spar, and apparently supported in the
centre by a large massy stalactitical pillar. To this suc-
ceeds a long series of caves of difficult access. Tlie fossil
bonta which are found, of various sizes, in the rock of Gib-
raltar, have frequently attracted the attention of naturalists.
It was formerly supposed that these bones existed in a
petrified slate, and were enclosed in the solid calcareous
rock ; but Colonel Imrie, who examined them with great
attention, is of opinion that they have been swept, by heavy
rains, at different periods, into the situations where they
are now found, and having remained, for a long series of

This building was destroyed during the siege, and is still in ruins, having never been rebuilt
t It has been since sold, and the provisions removed to the new stores at Hosia.

GIBRALTAR.

729

3'eai's, exposed to the permeating action of water, have be-
come enveloped in, and cemented by, the calcareous matter
which it deposits. And in confirmation of this opinion, he
observes, that the appearance ot these bones indicates cal-
cination rather than petrifaction.

The climate of Gibraltar is temperate and salubrious,
durinij the greater part of the year. From the circum-
stance of its being surrounded on three sides by the sea,
the summers are generally cooler, and the winters milder,
than on either of the neighbouring continents. Snow falls
seldom, and ice is a rarity. Violent showers of hail, how-
ever, are not uncommon during the winter. Heavy rains,
high winds, and most tremendous thunder, with dreadfully
vivid lighting, are the usual attendants on December and
January. The summer months are extremely warm ; but
the heat is frequently alleviated by a constant refreshing
westerly breeze from the sea, which, from its invigorating
and agreeable coolness, is emphatically called the Doctor.
During an easterly wind, or a Leva7iter as it is called, the
top of the rock is commonly covered with a heavy dense
vapour, through which the sun is seldom visible. At such
periods, the effects of the climate are peculiarly severe
upon persons of delicate constitutions, particularly such as
are subject to pulmonary or rheumatic complaints. Con-
sumptions generally prove fatal.

The summit of the mountain is inhabited by a large spe-
cies of ape; an animal not to be found in any other part of
Spain, and which is therefore thought to have been origin-
ally imported from Barbary by the Moors. Red-legged
partridges are often found in coveys; wood-cocks and teal
are sometimes, though rarely, seen; and wild rabbits are
caught about Europa and Windmill hill. Musquitoes are
exceedingly troublesome towards the close of summer ;
and locusts are sometimes found. The scorpion, centipede,
and other venomous reptiles, abound amongst the rocks
and old buildings ; and the harmless green lizard and snake
are frequently caught by the soldiers, who draw their teeth,
and treat them with fondness. The mountain of Gibraltar
presents an interesting tield to the botanist ; as it connects,
in some measure, the Flora of Africa with tliat of Europe.
Colonel James, in his elaborate history of Gibraltar, enume-
rates no less than 300 different herbs, which are to be found
on various parts of the rock.

The trade of Gibraltar is very considerable ; that port
being the great defiot from which the neighbouring coun-
tries are supplied with British manufactures. Duiing the
last war, between four and five thousand square rigged ves-
sels arrived there upon an average yearly. The imports
from Great Britain, in some years, exceeded three millions
sterling, being more than the whole of the exports to the
West Indies. The expences of Sicily and Malta, and the
money for the pay and maintenance of the British army in
Spain and Portugal, were chiefly defiayed by bills drawn
on the British government, and discounted by the merchants
at Gibraltar; to the amount, it is believed, in some year^,
of 11 millions of dollars annually. The public leve-iues
arise from the ground-rent of houses, the duties ca wine
and spirits sold in taverns, the licence-duties on wine-
houses and taverns, and the auction duties; amounting, al-
together, to about 35,000/. sterling per anmim.

See Colonel James's History of the Herculean Straits;
Colonel Drmkwater's History of •lie Siege of Gibraltar ;
Annual Register, vol. xxv. for 1782 ; Colonel Imrie's Mi-
neralogical Descri/ition of Gibraltar, in the 4th volume of
the Transactions oj the Royal Society of Edinburgh — For
the information relative to the present state of Gibraltar,
the writer of this article is indebted to the liberality of Co-
lonel Wright, Commandant of the Artillery alLeith Fort,
whose professional talents, and opportunities of observation,

Vol. IX. Part IT.

during a long residence in the gftrrison, render his commu-
nications on this subject peculiarly valuable. (;)

GILBERT, or CiiLUF.uD, WiLLi.\M,an eminent philoso-
pher and physician, was born at Colchester, in the year
1.540, and was the son of the recorder of that town. After
having attended the two English universities, he set out
upon his travels, and graduated at some of the foreign uni-
versities. Upon his return to England he settled in London in
1573, was admitted a member of the College of Physicians,
and practised medicine with great success and reputation.
His fame became so great, that he was appointed first phy-
sician to Queen Elizabeth, who generously allowed him a
pension for the purpose of carrying on his philosopliical
experiments. He retained his pension and his office after
the accession of James I. but he did not long enjoy the pa-
tronage of the new sovereign. He died on the 20th Novem-
ber 1603, in the 63d year of his age, and was interred at
Colchester, where a handsome monument was erected to
his memory by his brothers. His library, minerals, globes,
and mathematical instruments, were lelt to the College of
Physicians. His picture is placed in tlie gallery over the
schools at Oxford. He appears to have been a man of tali
stature, and cheerful disposition.

The reputation of Gilbert is founded on his work enti-
tled, De Magnete, magneticisyue corfioribus-, et de Magna
Magnete Tellure, Physiologia novo, filurimis et argumentis
et exfierimentis demonslrata. It appeared in London in
1600, in folio, and was afterwards reprinted in Germany.
The following analysis of this admirable work has been
given by our countryman, Dr Robison, and is too valuable
to admit of abridgment.

" In the introduction he recounts all the knowledge of
the ancients on the subject, and their supine inattention to
what was so entirely in their hands, and the impossibility of
ever adding to the stock of useful knowledge, so long as
men imagined themselves to be philosophising, while they
were only repeating a few cant words, and the unmeaning
phrases of the Aristotelian school. It is curious to remark
the almost perfect sameness of Dr Gilbert's sentiments
and language with those of Lord Bacon. They both charge,
in a peremptory manner, all those who pretend to inform
others, to give over their dialectic labours, which are no-
thing but ringing changes on a few trite truths, and many
unfounded conjectures, ant.' immediately to betake them-
selves to experiment. We has pursued this method on the
subject of magnctis^i, with wonderful ardour, and with
equal genius and success; for Dr Gilbert was possessed
both of great ingenuity, and a mind fitted for general views
of things. '^ he work contains a prodigious number and
variety of observations and experiments, collected with sa-
n-acily -lom the writings of others, and instituted by him-
self with considerable expence and labour. It would in-
fixed be a miracle, if all Dr Gilbert's general inferences were
just, or all his experiments accurate. It was untrodden
ground. But, on the whole, this performance contains moie
real information, than any writing of the age in which he
lived, and is scarcely exceeded by any that has appeared
since. We may hold it with justice as the first fruits of
the Baconian or experimental philosophy.

This work of Dr Gilbert's relates chieliy to the load-
stone, and what we call magnets ; that is, pieces of steel
which have acquired properties similar to those of the
loadstone. But he extends the term magnetistn, and the
epithet jnagnetic, to all bodies which are affected by load-
stones and magnets, in a manner similar to that in which
they affect each other. In the course of his investigation,
indeed, he finds that these bodies are only such as contain
iron in some state or other ; and in proving this limitation,
he mentions a great variety of phenomena which have a

4 Z

730

GIL

considiM'uble ri;scni!ilaiicc lo thobc wii'ich lie allows to he
iiiasjiietical, naiuciy, those which he called electrical, be-
cause they vvci-c produced in the same way that amber is
made to attract and repel ligiit bodies. He marks, with
care, the distinctions between these and the characteristic
plienomena of magnets. He seems to have hnown, lliat
all bodies maybe rendered electrical, while ferrugineoui
substances alone can be made magnelical. It is not saying
too much of this work of Dr Gilbert's, to affirm, that it
contains almost every thing that wo know about magnetism.
His unwearied diligence in searching every writing on the
sul)ject, and in getting information from navigators, and
his incessant occupation in experiments, have left very few
facts unknown to him. We meet with many things in the
■writings of posterior enquirers, some of them of iiigh re-
putation, and of the present day, which are published and
received as notable discoveries, but are contained in the rich
collection of Dr Gilbert. We by no means ascribe all this
to mean plagiarism, although we know traders in experi-
mental knowledge who are not free from this charge. We
ascribe it to the general indolence of mankind, who do
not take the trouble of consulting originals, where things
are mixed with others which they do not want, or treateil
in a way, and with a painful minuteness, which are no lon-
ger in fashion.

Dr Gilbert's book, althougli one of those which does
the highest honour to our country, is less known in Britain
than on the continent. Indeed, we know but of two Bri-
tish editions of it, which are both in Latin ; and we have
seen five editions published in Germany and Holland be-
fore 1628.

We earnestly recommend it to the perusal of the curious
reader. He will, (besides the philosophy), find more facts
in it than in the two large folios of Scarella."*

Besides this work, there appeared a posthumous publica-
tion of Gilbert's, entitled, De Mundo noslro sublunari Phi-
lasojihia nova, Amst. 1651, 4lo. It was printed from two
MSS. in the library of Sir William Boswell, and consists
of an attempt to euablish a new system of natural philoso-
phy upon the ruins of the Aristotelian system. It was
edited by the learned Gruter. Dr Gilbert invented two
very ingenious instrumenii for ascertaining the latitudes
of places without the aid o'.' celestial observations. See
Magnetism.

GILDING, is the art of ornamenting various articles,
by covering them with a superficial coat of gold, to obtain
the brilliant appearance of that valuable\netal.

For some purposes the appearance is noLthe only object;
for, in situations where wood or metal work is much ex-
posed to the weather, gilding forms a more durable protec-
tion from decay than any kind of paint or varnish, as the
gold, if well put on, is equally impenetrable to the sun,vain,
wind, or frost.

Gilding is an art with which the ancients were acquaint-
ed, although they had not discovered the means of extend-
ing the leaves of gold to such a surprising degree as is
done at present. From the information of Pliny we learn,
that their thickest leaves wei-e called bractea firxnestiiKS,
because a statue of Fortune at Prsenestina was gilded there-
with. An ounce of gold formed 750 of these leaves, each
being 4 fingers or 3 inches square : this is 9 square inches
in each leaf, or 47 square feet very nearly for the whole
ounce. The Romans employed thinner leaves, which th.ey
called bractea f/uestoria. From the great malleability of
gold, the moderns have discovered means by which it can
be reduced to such extremely thin leaves, that, notwith-

standing its high specific gravity, a given weight of gold
can be made to cover a greater surface than any other me-
tal. An experiment by M. Reaumur shewed the superfi-
cies of a grain troy weight of gold leaf to be 42 scjuarc
inches and three-tenths. This is at the rate of 1 41 square
feet per ounce, and the ihickness of such a leaf has been
estimated at the 2oiin'-^^ l*'"'^ ''' ^'' '"ch. Mr Boyle found
that a grain migiil be spread lo 50 square inches and scvcn-
tcnths. This gives 16'J squ:irc feet for the ounce ; and, by
the same mode of estimation, the thickness would be only
the stj^Vti'' P'"' of^ ^" inch. Gold is not at all liable, like
other metals, to tarnish or oxidate by the action of the air
or damp; and therefore this thin covering is very durable.
It is not susceptible of any other decay or waste, than from
those causes which produce friction or abrasion of the gild-
ed surface.

Gilding is performed either upon metals, or upon wood,
leather, parchment, or paper ; but three distinct methods
are employed : the first called wash or water gilding, in
which the gold is spread whilst reduced to a fluid state by
solution in mercury ; 2d, Leaf gilding, either burnished or
in oil, is performed by cementing thin leaves of gold upon
the work, either by size or by oil ; 3d, Japanners gildmg,
in which gold dust or powder is used instead of leaves.

fl^as/t or vjater ifitding-. — The method of gilding by a
solution of gold is only applied to metals. The goUi is
first dissolved, or reduced to the consistency of a scniifiuid,
by amalgamation with mercury. In this state, by the as-
sistance of an acid, it can be spread or washed evenly upon
every part of the surface of the article to be gilded ; the
mercury is afterwards evaporated by heat, and leaves a co-
vering of pure gold, tiie thickness of which is inconceiva-
bly small, although forming a must perfect surface. By
this method, brass ornaments, watch-cases, buttons, and
jewellery of all descriptions, arc made to represent gold.
The latter branch of the art is carried to such a high de-
gree of perfection, that the deception can only be detected
by the weight of the article, by cutting into it, or by some
chemical test.

A mixture of copper and brass is the metal most com-
monly employed for this kind of gilding: pure copper
does not readily receive the mercury amalgamated witU
the gold ; and, being of a soft and ruther porous nature,
requires more gold to produce an equally brilliant cover-
ing. About one-seventh part of brass, being mixed with the
copper, renders it harder, and makes the gold spread very
readily : brass itself will receive a very fine surface of gild-
ing. Tlie endeavour of the workman is, to make such a
mixture of brass and copper as will produce nearly the
same colour as the gilding is intended to have ; for a great
variety of shades in the colour of the gold can be produced
by a subsequent process, after it has been laid on ; but it
requires less trouble to give the gildmg the snmc colour as
•he metal wliich is beneath, than to make a different shade.
In offect, the gold adheres to the metal by forming a very
supciSci.il amalgamation or ailoy theiewith; hence the gold
will partcke of the colour of the metal. A second coat of
gilding laid on will have a greater appearance of pure gold,
and will have a more tlurable brilliancy than an equal
quantity of gold spread upon the melul at o:ie process.

Silver takes a fine surface of gold, and of a yellow co-
lour, mdess it is gilt twice over, and coloured afterwards.

lion and steel will not take the amalgam, as the mercu-
ry has no affinity for these metals.

Tin, zinc, lead, or other of the baser metals, are never

SeeRobison's System of Mecliauicul Pldlusoplitj, vol. iv. Art. Magnetism.

GILDING.

731

8;ildcd by amalp;aTn : they would delcriorate tlie gold too
mutli, nor would tliey bear a siUliciciit heat.

To ainalganiate the gold lor wiish-p;ildini;, i small quantity
is put into a crucible, or an iron ladle, with about six times
its weight of mercury. The ladle or crucible should be rub-
bed on the inside with whitening, to prevent any waste; and
being put upon a charcoal fire, and gently heated, the mer-
cury will soon dissolve the ;;oUI. To assist the solution, it
should be stiired with an iron wire. Tlie heat should not
be sufficient to evaporate the mercury, at least not until the
solution of the gold is nearly tITected ; the heat may then
be increased for a moment, till a vapour is seen to rise from
the crucible. The amalgam being made, is thrown out into
water, where a small portion of mercury will be seen to
separate itself. This contains very little if any gold ; but
the real amalgam forms a small lump of paste, of nearly
the same consistence with butter ; but it will be observed
to have particles of mercury intermixed with it. To remove
these, the amalgam is twisted up in a piece of fine wash
leather, and gently pressed with the finger and thumb :
the mercury will pass through the pores of the leather, and
leave the amalgam fit for use. Iji this state it is the colour
of silver, without any appearance of gold, and does not
contain more than twice the weight of mercury to that of
ttie gold. The mercury which has passed through the
leather, should be reserved for making future amalgam,
as it will probably contain a small proportion of the
gold.

Some workmen vary this process by heating the gold to
redness, and healing the mercury to the point of evapora-
tion; then, throwing the hot gold into the mercury, the
amalgam is quickly cfi'ected. We do not know any difft-r-
ence of eHcct which should give the preference to either
of these processes.

It is essential that both the gold and the mercury slioukl
be pure. The mcicury of commerce is almost always
adulterated with lead, which is very prejudicial to the gild-
ing. It should be separated by distilling the mercury in
an iron retort, with a gentle heat ; this will leave the lead
in the retort ; or the mercury may be revived from cinna-
bar in a very pure state. Nothing can be gained by em-
ploying gold of an inferior quality, as it will always require
a greater proportion to produce the same covering, and
the brilliancy will be much impaired.

It bus been recommended to grind the amalgam on a
marble stone, or in a glass mortar, and to wash it continu-
ally with a solution of common salt in water. This will
carry away a blackish colour, occasioned by the oxide of
the mercury ; and the washing is to be continued till it
ceases to colour the salt and water. We have never met
with any artist who practises this washing; for if the gold
and mercury are pure, and the amalgam is not overheated,
so as to oxidate the mercury, it will be unnccessarv.

The first circumstance to be attended to in wash-gilding
is, to make the surface of the metal perfectly free fiom all
.scurf, tarnish, or oxidation ; for the covering o( gold upon
the metal unites therewith by a kind of amalgamation,
and forms a superficial alloy, which would be discoloured
by the smallest coat of larnish.

Tiie cleaning is jjerformed by pickling the metal, in a
solution of aquafortis and water: the strength of the so-
lution is immaterial, except with respect to the time that
the metal must remain in it. A quantity of acid, equal to
one-fourth of the water, will clean the metal in a few mi-
nutes ; but if weaker, is equally effective in a longer time :
and if the article is accidentally left in the pickle for a long
time, it will not be injured. For cheap and coarse ar-
ticles, a strong solution of sal nixon, or sal aminonifc, is
employed ; and to render it more active, the metal is heat-

ed and |5lunged into it : this raises a black or brown oxide
over the whole surface. It is tlion dippcl in ihe pickle of
aquafortis, which throws off a slight bc;.lc from the surface,
and renders the metal clean at once ; and it is pur into clean
water, to prevent the farther action of the arid from pro-
ducing a tarnish before the giUiing is performed.

For the best work, the aquafortis ])ickle is used cold,
and the cleaning is performed by the fi iction of a scratch-
brush, formed of fine brass wire instead of hairs. The
brush is sometimes made of a circ\tlar form, and mounted
on a spindle, turned rapidly by the motion of a foot-wliecl
and treddle, in the manner of a lathe, whilst the work is
jirescnted to the brush. But for delicate work, such as
the wheels and other parts of watches, a very delicate
hand brush is used ; and here it must be noted, that when
the steel arbors of the wheels, or any other part of steel,
are attached to the work, it must not be dipped into the
pickle, but the pickle should be made stronger, and only
the scratch-brush dipped into it, before the work is brush-
ed with it. The steel must be frequently dipped into clear
water during the brushing, to prevent the action of any
acid which may touch it.

To spread the amalgam perfectly upon the surface of
the article which is to be gilt, an acid, called the quicken-
ing, is used. This is made of aquafortis, (nitrous acid)
with a small quantity of mercury dissolved in it, so as to
give it a n)ilky whiteness. The article being dipped into
this, attracts a coat of the solution of mercury, over the
whole surface, in an instant; and with this preparation,
the amalgam is applied with the pencil. This is a piece
of flattened copper wire, fixed in a handle : it is occasion-
ally dipped into the quickening, then touching the amal-
gam with it, it will take up a small quantity, which is rubbed
upon the work, and spreads or flows in an instant over all the
parts which have been lOHched by the quickening. The action
of the quickening appears to arise frorn the greater affinity of
the nitrous acid for copper than for the mercury; in conse-
quence of which, the acid takes to the copper the instant it is
applied upon it, and leaves the mercury precipitated uporv
the surface. This coating of mercury facilitates the
spreading of the amalgam wJien it is applied, although it
may be spread without it, by merely dipping the pencil
into the aquafortis, then into the amalgam, and afterwards
applying it upon the surface of the work. This is the me-
thod employed for delicate works, particularly where there
are any parts oC steel. Another method of applying the
amalgam, is to mix it up in a cup or jar, with mercury
and aquafortis, to the consistency of thin cream. Into this
the articles are dipped, and become at once perfectly coat-
ed with the amalgam. We have seen this method used by
3 button manufacturer, and it succeeded very well, with
scarcely any trouble ; but it is only applicable on a large
scale, for tliis amalgam will not keep long, because the
acid turns the mercury black, by an oxide which will not
pass off" in the drying. They can only mix up, in this
way, as much amalgam as they intend to use in a very
short time. Without acid, the amalgam will keep any
length of time.

The next step in the operation is the drying off", or eva-
porating the mercury. For this a small charcoal stove or
oven is used: it is merely a square opening, surrounded
by biick on every side, except the front, and a flue pro-
ceeds from the top. It is made of a size proportioned to
that of the work intended to be dried in it. As it is not
intended that the draught of air shall be rapid, the stove
may be placed in the lower part of a chimney, which is
open all round the stove, so as to admit part of the cur-
rent of air to ascend into the chimney without passing
through the lire ; and the charcoal being laid upon a small

4Z 2

732

GILDING.

stone hcartli, without any gi'atc, it docs not burn away very
rapidly. The front of tlie cliimncy should be closed by a
window-sash, which draws up and down, leaving just room
enough beneath for the gilder to put his arms and hands
into the chimney, while he sees his work in the stove
through the glass, which prevents his inhaling the perni-
cious vapour of the mercury. A drawing of an apparatus
of this kind is represented in Fig. 9. of Plate CVII. But-
ton Manufacture, with an additional apparatus to con-
dense and preserve tne mercury dissipated by the evapo-
ration. The gilder is generally seated before this stove,
and holds the work in a pair of iron pincers over the
burning charcoal, till he sees it change colour from the
■white silvery appearance produced by the amalgam, to a
gold colour, which gradually comes on as the mercury
passes of!'.

At the first application of the heat, before it is suffici-
ent to make the mercury evaporate, the amalgam will be
seen to grow more fluid, and flow as it were upon the sur-
face. In this state it is liable to collect more to one part
of the work than others, probably because the heat is not
equal in all parts, but renders the amalgam more fluid in
some places than in others.

To counteract the efiect of this tendency, a brush of
soft hog's hair is frequently drawn over the work, to
spread the amalgam perfectly equal over the whole sur-
face. This is a part of the process which requires much
attention from the workman ; for if he does not spread it
well, the parts where the mercury accumulates will form
whitish spots when dry ; and these spots will afterwards
tarnish, and at length turn black, having very little of the
gold laid upon them. A great deal depends upon the heat
being very equally and regularly applied, until the mer-
cury begins to dry ofi", and the amalgam becomes fixed.
The common gilder's stove is very ill calculated to attain
this equality of heat. If the work has any cavities or hol-
low parts, into which the amalgam is liable to be accu-
mulated by the brush, it must be dislodged by shaking
the work. The hair of the brush must be very soft and
pointed, by rubbing it upon a piece of pumice-stone; and
where there is any extent of surface to be gilt, the brush
must be drawn in one directioii, because it leaves a sort of
grain, which will have a disagreeable appearance if it is
not laid straight.

It is usual for the gilder to have a small iron pan, into
which he puts a few of the pieces he intends to gild, and
places it upon the fire ; and he takes them one by one,
with the tongs, out of this pan, to brush theni, and then
returns them to heat, whilst he brushes others : at last,
to finish the operation, he holds them in the tongs over the
hottest part of the charcoal ; this completes the evapora-
tion of the mercury, and leaves the gold of a dull yellow,
or gold colour. Small articles of which there are a great
number of the same size, such as buttons, rings of watch
chains, &c. are put all together into an iron frying pan to
heat, and when the mercury begins to flow, they are all
together thrown out into a cup, in which they are shaken
up, and well stirred about with a painter's brush. This
operation effects the spreading of the gold with very little
trouble. It should be repeated several times, and the heat
brought on very gradually, which the pan admits of doing
more conveniently than any other means. As the heat
continues to increase, the mercury begins to evaporate,
and soon leaves the amalgam, or rather the gold, fixed
upon the surface. The work being now dried off, pre-
sents only a dull scarfy appearance; but being brushed by
a few strokes of the scratch-brush, it assumes a polished
surface. The brushing is done with small beer or ale
grounds, which however contribute nothing more to the

operation than to soften the strokes of the brush, and pre-
vent the work having any appearance of scratches. If a
thicker coat of gilding is required, the operation is repeat-
ed once or twice, and every time the colour will approach
nearer to that of fine gold. The scratch-brush must be
applied to clean the work between each gilding.

The simplest mode of heightening the colour, is to hold
the work over the charcoal of a small stove, similar to the
gilders stove, and heat it till the colour increases. During
the heating, if any spots appear of a different colour, they
are touched with a slick dipped in aquafortis, which re-
stores them. It is then thrown into a weak solution of
aquafortis and water, which will discover any spots where
the coating of gold is deficient. This method is supposed
to act by making a perfect dissipation of the mercury ; but
we think it rather opeiates to produce a farther alloy or
amalgamation of the gold with the metal upon which it is
spread. The work being again polished with the scratch-
brush is finished, unless a very hi^h polish is required : it
must be produced by burnishing with a blood-stone, using
water to prevent the gold being rubbed off.

When a higher colour is required, the work is covered
with a composition called gilding wax ; and being held
over the fire till the wax smokes, and is on the point of
inflaming, it is then suddenly cooled in water, and the
scarf of the wax is cleared off by the scratch-brush and
beer.

Gilding wax is compounded of bees wax and red chalk
in equal quantities, with French verdigris and alum ot^
green vitriol, which are added in small portions. The use
of the wax seems to be only to flow, and carry the other in-
gredients to every part of the surface, and to determine the
proper degreee of heat to be applied. There is another
preparation of sal ammoniac, nitre, green vitriol, and ver-
digris, in equal parts, which they use after the wax is clear-
ed oft", and they desire to produce a very high colour. It
is spread over the work in a state of paste, to which it is
mixed by urine, and heated till it smokes in the same man-
ner as the wax. This composition may be used instead of
the gilding wax; or, by repeating the application of the
gilding wax two or three times, it will produce the same
colour, which is a deep and brilliant copper colour, but ve-
ry superficial, and wears off long before the gilding is
worn away.

Dead yellow is a preparation of gilding which presents
a frosted surface, without any polish, and of a beautiful
yellow colour. It is prodixed by a saline preparation like
that above, but some yellow colouring matter is employed
instead of the green verdigris. Wiien the work is lieated
with this upon it, it is thrown into aquafortis and water,
and the ebullition which this occasions produces the dead
colour.

The operation of drying off, as formerly practised, was
very prejudicial to the health of the workman, who always
inhaled tiic fumes of the mercury. The application of a
glass front to the chimney in which the stove is placed, has
obviated this inconvenience ; but still the stove is not judi-
ciously constructed with a view of producing a gradually
increasing heat. A considerable improvement might be
made by employing an iron box, or oven, set in brick-work,
over a cloie fire, and surrounded by flues, in the same
manner as a boiler. It should be open in front, and have
two or three shelves within it. The whole stove should
be inclosed within a chimney, with a glass window in front,
and a sufficient draft up the chimney window to carry off
all the fumes. In using this stove, the work should at first
be laid on the top of the box, where it will be gradually
warmed; then the workman removing it to the upper
shelf, it would become more heated, and fit for brushing.

(ilLDlNG.

733

When tliis is done, he should [jlace it on the second shelf,
which would produce a greater heat. Being again brusiied,
and afterwards placed on the hottoni of the box or stove,
the heat would be sufficient to complete the drying off.

Iron or steel may be ornamented by wash-gilding, if the
surface is first covered with copper, by dipping the iron
into a strong solution of blue vitriol, (sulphate of copper.)
Upon this the amalgam can be applied; but such gilding
presents a very indifferent colour, and is not durable.

Another method is, to spread a thin plate of gold upon
the steel, then heating them both, and burnishing the gold
down, it will adhere, but so slightly as to have but little
durability ; and the heat must be so considerable, that it
frequently injures the temper of the steel.

In the Philosophical Magazine, vol. ii. a new mode of
gilding steel is described, as being the same by which the
Sohlingcr sabres are ornamented. A solution of gold in
nitro-muriatic acid, {aqua regia,) being poured into about
twice as much ether, the latter will float upon the surface
of the acid; but if shaken together, the gold will be taken
up from the acid by the ether; which may then be separated,
by pouring the mixture into a long glass funnel with the
tube stopped, and when it is completely at rest, the tube
being opened, will run off the acid ; and being again stop-
ped, will leave the ether, with gold in solution.

This solution of gold being spread upon the surface to
be gilt, the ether evaporates and leaves the gold, which,
however, does not adhere very strongly, but may be fixed,
by heating the steel moderately, and burnishing the gilding
down.

■Leaf Gilding — It is so Called, because the gold is lami-
nated, by the operation of gold beating, into very thin leaves,
which are cemented upon the article to be gilded, by gum,
size, white of an egg, or drying oil. Leaf gilding can
be applied on metals as well as wood ; or, with an appro-
priate cement, it may be laid on any substance which pre-
sents a surface sufficiently even, and free from pores. It
is distinguished into burnished gilding and oil gilding. In
the former, the leaves being cemented upon the work by
gum or size, admit of being burnished or polished. This
is sometimes called water gilding, because the size or gum
is mixed up with water; but as this term is also applied to
the wash gilding by mercury, it should be avoided, as
tending to confusion. Oil gilding, is that in which the
leaves are stuck on by fat or drying oil. The advantage
is, that it will bear the weather, but, on the other hand, it
will not admit of being burnished.

Burninhed Gilding. — When this is laid upon wood, the
surface must be prepared for it by a thin coating of size
whitening, to fill up the pores, and make a closer ground
for the gold leaf. The size used to mix up the whitening,
is made from cuttings of parchment, or of glovers' leather.
These must be gently boiled in water for several hours,
till the water extracts sufficient size to form a jelly when
it cools. This size is strained through a flannel to clear
it from the cuttings, and fine powder of whiting is added,
being stirred up with the size until it forms a coarse paint
whilst hot, but will congeal into a very close solid sub-
stance when cold. With this composition, when heated,
the surface of the wood is coated or primed over several
times, spreading it evenly with a painter's brush, and care-
fully laying it into all the hollows or cavities of the work,
where it is carved. Each coat should be suffered to dry
perfectly before another is applied, and the last must be
rendered as smooth and even as possible. For this pur-
pose, it is brushed over with water before it is tjuite dry,
and any luimps removed, at the same time the whole sur-
face is rendered closer. When perfectly dry, the priming
of whitening must be examined to fill up the cavities, and

the carved parts must be cut or scraped sharp with a
knife, and polished up in parts with a Dutch rush. After
this, the parts where the gilding is intended to receive a
burnish, must be rubbed gently with a rag wetted with
water. This produces a surface, which has a polish when
dry.

The gilding size which is to cement the gold leaf, is
now applied hot with a brush over all the parts intended
to be gilt. This is made of the same size as before men-
tioned ; but instead of the whitening, a mixture of bole
aiTimoniac and tallow is ground together upon a marble
slab; and, in order to render the mixture more easy, a little
soap suds is put upon the slab. The size of parchment
before mentioned, being diluted by double its tjuantity of
warm water, this composition is added till it becomes as
thick as cream. Some artists add black lead to the bole,
at the rate of one-sixteenth of black lead ; and instead of
tallow, they use a mixture of equal parts of olive oil and
bees-wax. Others add colouring matter, such as vermi-
lion and fine yellow ; but these are quite useless, if they
intend to cover the work completely with gold. The gild-
ing size is laid on in a thin coat, which is repeated when
the first is dry, and sometimes a third time, which pre-
pares the work for the application of the gold leaf.

The gold leaf is kept in small books, the leaves of which
are rubbed with red chalk. To take up the leaves, and
particularly the small pieces, the gilder has a small pair
of tweezers made of two slips of cane, united together at
one end by glue, so that they will spring open ; but the
ends, which are to take up the leaves, are cut extremely
thin, though left sufficiently broad to take up the leaves by
the corners without breaking them. The gilder is also
provided with a cushion, upon which he spreads out the
leaves when it is necessary to cut them to any particular
size. The cushion is made of leather, stuffed with tow or
wool upon a square board, which has a projecting handle
to hold it by. To divide the leaves, a common pallet knife
is used. The article upon which the gold is to be applied
is placed in an inclined position, and the size is wetted by
a camel hair pencil. This wetting renders the size suffi-
ciently adhesive to cement the leaves, which are removed
from the book, by sliding them upon the paper of the book
with a squirrel's tail, until the edge of the leaf overhangs
the edge of the paper. This overhanging edge is applied
upon the sized work, and fastened down, by touching it
with a piece of soft carded cotton wrapped up in a piece
of fine linen. The gilder then withdraws the paper upon
which the leaf lies, and thus spreads the gold upon the
surface. This drawing away the paper from beneath the
leaf extends the leaf in every direction, and lays it flat
upon the work. If any folds or wrinkles appear, the gild-
er blows on the leaf, to press it against the paper, and
cause a very slight adhesion, though sufficient to draw the
leaf straight without tearing, which would not be practi-
cable if it was pressed upon the paper by any other means
than a current of air. This pan of the operation requires
much dexterity ; and if the workman breaks a leaf, ii must
be taken up with the tweezers, which, indeed, are fre-
quently requisite to place the leaves straight. It is very
difficult to place a broken leaf sufficiently esnct upon the
size that no joint shall appear. The gilder endeavours to
lay the leaf, by first fastening tl-,e top of it, or that edge
which is most distant from him ; then he v/it!idraws the
book downwards, and for this reason he begins the work
at the top. In some cases the riglit or left hand side ol
the leaf must be first stuck on, and then the book must be
withdrawn sidewise, to the left or right. The geld leaf
being by these means spread on the work, is first pressed
close by blowing upon it, and afterwards by dabbing it

•34

GILDING.

wiih a s'luinc-I's lail, or willi a bull of very soft cotton
vi-appcd in a fine liiun t-aj. The gilder docs not wet a
greater extent of the size than he can cover with fjold be-
fore it becomes too dry; but if this iiappens, he wets it
again, and thus proceeds until the whole is covered. The
leaves are overlapped, to ensure that every part shall be
covered; but, of course, the overlay is as little as the woik-
inan can make it.

Any small spots which remain uncovered from deficient
corners of the leaves, or other causes, are covered with
pieces cut by the knife upon the cushion. The gilder re-
serves for this use those leafs which are broken in attempt-
ing to lay them on : They are removed from the book with
the pincers, and laid upon the cushion. The pincers are
likewise used to apply these pieces upon the work ; but if
they are very small, they may be taken upon the cotton
dabber, when rendered damp by breathing upon it. These
re])airs should be performed as the defects occur, before
the size becomes dry; but, if any escape, the size in the
defective places must be carefully wetted by a camel hair
pencil, the surrounding gold being preserved from the wa-
ter. When all the work is covered, and sufficiently dry,
it is brushed over with a large and soft hogs' hair brush,
■which takes off the loose gold ; it is then minutely exa-
inii:ed, and defects removed, by painting them over with
shell gold mixed with gum-water. But for common work
a colour resembling gold is used ; it is composed of ver-
milion and yellow ochre, or red lead and Dutch pink,
ground up with the white of an egg or isinglass size.

The gold remains only to be burnished by rubbing it
over with an agate fixed in a handle, or a dog's tooth. It
is requisite to attend to the state of dryness of the work
before burnishing : for if the size is not sufficiently di^,
the gold rubs off or scratches; and if too dry, it is tedious
to raise a fine surface, because the size becomes hardened
with those small irregularities, which prevent the surface
of the gold from presenting a polished surface.

Gilding in oil. — This is used for work which is expos-
ed to the weather, and is therefore performed on wood,
lead, or other metals, and sometimes on stone. The ground
must be laid of oil paint instead of size, and whitening, as
for burnishing gilding. White lead is a very proper co-
lour for the first coat ; then a second coat of yellow ochre
and vermilion mixed up with drying oil. This has a co-
lour which will render any slight defects in the gold less
apparent. If great nicety is required, the last coat of paint,
•when dry, should be rubbed smooth with pumice stone. In
general this is neglected, because oil gilding is in almost
all cases intended to be viewed at a distance.

The surface, thus prepared, is ready to receive the fat
oil size, by which the gold leaves are to be cemented upon
it. This is prepared from linseed oil, exposed to the
weather in a large flat pan, which is filled five or six inches
deep with water, and the oil is poured upon the water
about an inch deep. It should be placed where it will
receive the action of the sun and rain lor five or six weeks
in suHimer. This will cause the oil to become thick like
treacle, and some impurities will descend iiito the water.
The oil is then to be taken off tlie water, well separated
from it, and poured into a lojig phi^l, which is to be heat-
ed until the o'll becomes perfectly fluid, by the settlement
of the foul parts to the bottom. The clear oil size is then
to be poured ofl", and strained throu^'h flannel. To render
the oil fit fur use, it is ground to a thin paint with yellow
ochre. A coat of this paint or size is brushed over the sur-
face which is to be gilt, but if found too thick to work
well, it must be mixed u|) with drying oil. Great care
must be taken to cover every part, and to render this very
certain, a sfcco:id coat may be spread over the first, after it

is dry. The gold leaves are applied upon t"liis second size,
when it is in such a state of dryness, that, on touching it
with the finger, it feels strongly adhesive, but at the same
time does not come off upon the finger. The gold is ap-
plied by the same mcsns as before described for burnish-
ed gilding, and after becoming cliy is brushed over, to re-
move the su()ernuous gold. If this operation jiroduces
any spots, they must be retouched with the size, and frag-
ments of gold applied where it is requisite.

I^eaf Gilding, on paper or vellum. — This is extremely
simple, as the suiface requires no other preparation than
a wash of dilute gum water, or isinglass size. Upon this
the leaves of gold are laid, wh.en it is in a certain state of
dryness, which must be known by practice: if it has be-
come only a little too dry, it may be sufficiently damped by
breathing on it. When the surface is covered with gold,
it can be burnished with an agate, or dog's tooth.

Gilt Letters. — If it be required to gild manuscript writ-
ing, a strong size must be used for writing, instead of ink :
it is made of gum ammoniac dissolved in water previously
impregnated with a little gum arable, and some juice of
garlick ; this forms a fluid of a milky colour, which will
flow very readily from a pen, or it can be laid on accord-
ing to any design by a camel-hair pencil : it may be suf-
fered to dry, and then, by breathing upon the paper, the
size will be softened sufficiently to receive the gold, which
is applied in leaves in the same manner as for any other
kind of gilding. The superfluous gold being removed by
a brush, the writing is found covered, in its finest strokes,
with gold which may be burnished. Gold letters for shop
fronts, &c. are painted in oil size, by the process of gilding
in oil.

Printing in gold may be performed by beating up the
white of eggs to a proper consistence, to mix with Vermil-
lion, and make a thick ink ; with this the paper or vellum
must be printed, and the gold applied in leaves, as before
directed.

A different method is sometimes employed to ornament
paper with gilt letters. This is to use printing ink, com-
posed of strong gum water; and the letters, after being
printed with this, are sprinkled over with very fine powder
of crystal or glass, so as to form when dry, a kind of sand
or .glass paper upon the form of letters. To gild these
parts, it is only requisite to rub thein over with a piece of
solid gold, and the sharp angles of the crystal will cut off'
sufficient gold to gild tie writing, which will be very bril-
liant from the reflections of the crystal. It has been re-
commended to employ stamps for the printing, in which the
letter shall be engraved or sunk, instead of being raised,
as in printing types. The sunk parts of these letters are
to be filled up with an ink composed of gum, or whites of
eggs, and the raised surface being Jiept clean, the stamps,
when applied upon the paper and pressed, will leave the
mixture upon the paper in the form of the letters engraved
upon the face of the stamp, and consideiably raised.
The gilding is performed vrhen the mixture is diy, by rub-
bing it with a piece of gold as before directed.

Book-binders imprint gold letters on the backs of books,
without any size, by means of brass types, which are cut
the same as printing types ; these are made hot in a char-
coal fire, and are pressed upon the place where the letters
are to be, over which a IeL.f of gold has been pieviously
spread. The heat and pressure causes tl.e gold to adhere
to the leather, where the type was applied, but the gold
brushesoff from the other parts. Seiolls and all kinds of
ornaments aie impressed in the same manner; but when a
length of bordering is required, the inipretsion is engraved
on the surface of a small roller, which is used hoi, in the
same manner as (he types.

OILDINC;.

'.35

In order to f;ild the cdijes of t!ic leaves of books, or
Writing paper, they must be stroni^iy sc.-ewcd in a press,
at'ler bcini^ tut as smooth as possible, and the t-dijcs sizi;d
with isin;j;lass cfkie, mixed up with spirits of wine. The
^old shoiilrl be laid on when the size arrives at a proper de-
gree of dryness.

Tiie Trench workmen employ a g-round of bole ammo-
niac, mixed up with powdered siiijarcandy, by means of
white of eggs. This is laid very thinly upon the edges,
after isinglass size or gu!i> has been applied. When the
ground is dry, it is rubbed smooth with a wet rag, and this
moistens it sufliciently to take the gold.

Japanners' Gild'mg.- — Gilding with gold powder is only
used where the appearance of frosted gold is desired. The
powder is sprinkled upon the article after the cement has
been laid on. This method is not so durable as leaf-gild-
ing, that is, it requires a greater proportion of gold to form
an equally effectual covering by this means ; for this reason
it is generally covered with a coat of varnish, and is hence
called japanners' gi/dinff.

To reduce the gold to powder, two different means may
be employed; one by precipitation, and the other by grind-
ing. For the first, any quantity of pure gold is put into a
glass containing about eight times its weight of aqua regia,
(nitro-muriatic acid.) The gold will more readily dissolve,
if it is either beat out into thin plates, or divided into small
grains, by pouring it into water when melted. A gen-
tle heat being applied, will facilitate the progress, and by
occasionally stirring it with a glass rod, the gold will be
wholly taken up. A solution of sulphate of iron or green
vitriol, in about eight limes its weight of water, is made at
the same time, and if it leaves any sediment, it inust be se-
parated and rendered clear.

To precipitate the gold in a state of powder, a small
quantity of the solution of sulphate of iron is poured into
the glass containing the solution of gold, and a red powder
iinmediStely falls to the bottom from the nitromuriatic acid,
leaving the gold to unite with the iron of the vitriol, for
which it has a greater affmity. The fluid must be now
poured off, and leaves the bright gold powder at the bot-
tom of the glass, which is then to be filled with clean wa-
ter, and the powder stirred up, to wash it from any remains
of acid. It will soon settle again, and the water must be
poured off, to leave the powder as dry as possible. The re-
maining water is evaporated, by exposing the powder in the
air upon a piece of glass.

Another method of producing gold powder, is to form
an amalgam of gold with iriercury, by the same process as
described for wash-gilding, namely, heating the gold to red-
ness, and throwing it into mercury, heated nearly to its point
of evaporation. The gold forms an amalgam with the mer-
cury, and after being separated from the superfluous mer-
cury, by passing through a piece of leather, the amalgam
is put in a crucible or a glass, and exposed to a sufficient
heat to evaporate the mercury, and this leaves the gold in
a fine yellow powder. For this method, the mercury must
be quite pure, and free from any admixture of lead, other-
wise the powder will be found in lumps, and discoloured.

Gold may be mechanically reduced to a powder by grind-
ing leaves of gold with a miillcr upon a marble stone, and
working it up with fine clear honey. The fragments brush-
ed off by the leaf gilders will answer this purpose, and the
grinding must be continued until the gold forms a perfect
yellow paste with the honey. This paste being thrown into
water, the honey is taken up by it, and the gold settles in a
fine powder. It must be repeatedly washed till the honey
is quite separated, and then the powder is dried. This does
not produce so brilliant a powder as the former means, be-

caus'^ the particles of gold are brnis-xi, and rendircd dull
by the action of the niuller and stone.

The cement or size used for japanncrs' gildiog is com-
posed of linseed oil and gum. Tiie oil is boiled, and whilst
upon the fire, [)ieces of gum anime being put in, will be
dissolved. Tiie proportion of gum should be about one-
fourth (l)y weight) of the oil; the mixture is boiled till it
is reduced to the consistence of tar, and then strained
through a cloth. When wanted for use, it must be ground
with vermilion, adding as much oil of turpentine as will
make it work with a brush. Some gilders add to the above
composition asphaltum, red lead, and umber. These in-
gredients are pounded and mixed with the gum, before it
is put into the oil. Such additions give the size a good
colour, which is more necessary in gilding with powder
than lor leaf gilding, because the size appears in innume-
rable small specks, which will diminish the lustre of the
gold, unless the size is of a brilliant colour.

The operation of gilding with powder, is nothing more
than to paint the work over with the size, mixed up with
oil of turpentine; and when the size is so far dried that it
feels adhesive without coming off when touched with the
finger, the gold powder is applied, by dipping a piece of
soft wash leather into it, and daubing it upon the work.
When the work is small, it is best to strew the powder
upon it, and shake off the superfluous gold.

Gilding ujwn Porcelain or Glass. — The gold is reduced
to a fine powder by any of the means described under ja-
panners' gilding, and mixed with borax, adding as much
gum water as will make it work with the pencil, with
which it is to be laid upon the porcelain or glass; it must
then be subjected to a sufficient heat to make the enamel
soft, to which the borax contributes very much. This
fixes the gold, and it can afterwards be burnished ; or leaf-
gold may be laid on with gum water, and fixed by burning.
Borax is sometimes mixed with the gum.

To gild upon glass without burning, a cement or size
may be made of amber, melted in drying oil, and boiled to
a strong consistence. It must be tempered for working
with the pencil by oil of turpentine, and laid on the glass
or porcelain, and the gold leaf spread over it. When per-
fectly dry, it will bear a careful burnishing, and is durable.

I'alse or Imitative Gilding — Wash gilding cannot be imi-
tated ; it must, as we have before mentioned, be of pure
gold. Leaf gilding may be done in Dutch leaf, which is
made of copper covered with gold upon its surface, by the
wash gilding process, and afterwards beat out in the same
manner as the gold ; but the leaves are mucli thicker, be-
cause there is little inducement to reduce t/iem so far, and
they are more easily laid on. When firs: done, this work
lias all the appearance of true gold, but soon tarnishes by
the air, and any dampness will prodi.ce spots in it; if se-
cured by a transparent varnish, it preserves its beauty as
long as the varnish lasts, and in ^his case becomes a very
good substitute. The proper larnishes are made of mas-
tic sandaiac, white resin, or ^opal, these alone being suffi-
ciently white and transparent.

Silver leaf and tin-fi'.i are made to represent gold, by
covering them with a varnish or lacker of white resin,
gum-sandarac, alp-s, and red lead, mixed up and boiled
with linseed oil- See Gilding on leather.

False Gilc-'Mg ujion Leather. This is an art which was
formerly practised very extensively for the hangings of
apartments. At present it is scarcely known, but some
very fine specimens )vhich remain perfect, after being in
use for a century, shew that it is a most durable kind of
furniture for rich apartme.its. In the French Collections
des Jrls ct des Metiers, the following account of this art is

736

GIL

given. " The leather of calf skin is preferable to any other;
the skins are softened in water, then beaten on a stone, and
curried out to their greatest extent whilst wet; when dry
they arc cut square, and all reduced to the same mze ; after
which, if any skins are defective, they arc pieced with the
fragments, wliich are joined by glue ; the edges of the joints
being pared away so as to make no increase of thickness.
The grain side of the leather is now rubbed over willi a
piece of size, wliilst in a state of jelly; and before this
size dries, leaves of silver are laid on, in the manner before
described of the gold leaves for burnished gilding. When
covered with silver, the skins arc dried till they are in a
proper state for burnisbinsj, which is done by a large flint
fixed in the middle of a wooden handle : the workman
holds it with both hands, and forcibly rubs upon the silver
till it becomes brilliantly burnished. The appearance of
gold is now given to the silvered surface, by covering it
■with a yellow varnish or lacker, which is composed of
■white resin four pounds and a half, common resin the
same quantity, gum sandarac two pounds and a half, and
aloes two pounds. These ingredients are melted together
in an earlhern vessel, and after being well mixed by stir-
ring, seven pints of linseed oil are poured in, and when
the composition is sufficiently boiled to make a perfect
union, and to have the consistence of syrup, half an ounce
of red lead is added, and the liquor is passed through a
flannel bag.

To apply this varnish, the silvered skins are spread out
upon a board, and fastened down by nails: These are ex-
posed in the sun, and when thus warmed, the white of an
egg is spread over the silver. After this is dry, the work-
man lays on the varnish, by spreading it with his hands till
he covers the whole. The varnish will dry in the sun in a
few hours, and is very durable. When the gold is desired
to be laid according to any design, the varnish is printed
upon the surface of the skin by a wooden block and a roll-
ing press. By this means only the printed parts will ap-
pear to be gilt, the others remaining in silver as a ground,
and are frequently painted in oil colouis.

False gilding for picture frames and other similar orna-
ments, may be performed with silver laid on in the manner
described for burnished gilding, and the above varnish laid
on after it is burnished : as the varnish preserves it, tin-
foil answers almost as well, except that it will not bear too
fine a burnish.

False Gold Powder is made by melting tin, and pouring
into it about half as much mercury. The amalgam thus
produced must be pounded and mixed up with sal ammo-
niac and sulpliMi-, each in weight about half the tin. The
composition beina; calcined in a matrass, will form a bright-
gold coloured powOer, which answers very well for japan-
iiers, but will not ketij its colour unless it is covered by a
varnish. For farther -particulars relative to this art, see
Jfandmaid to the arts ; Lewis's Commercium Philosojihko
Technicum; and the Circle -if Mechamcal Arts. (j. F.)

GILOLO, or HALjiAHEHA,one of the Spice Islands, is
a large and singularly shaped island, which divides the In-
dian Ocean from the Great Sout\i Sea to the east. It is
composed of four peninsulas, separned from each other
by deep bays. The equator passes through the island, and
a meridian 126° east of Greenwich. Its a\°rage breadth is
about 30 miles, and its length 220. The western side of
the island is nearly straight, and the peninsulas extend to-
•wards the east.

The principal towns in the island, are Ossa, Maba, Pa-
tany,and Weda ; but they are little known, as they are sel-
dom visited by Europeans. There is a fine watering place
on the south side of the Bay of Ossa, ■where vessels may

jjrocurc water and refreshments ; and on some of the
islands excellent timber for spars may be obtained.

Gilolo is naturally fertile. It abounds with bullocks,
buflalocs, goats, deers, and wild hogs. The latter frequent
the places where the sago trees have been cut, and get
very fat upon the remains of it. The inhabitants subsist
chiefly on the sago tree. It is a long tube of hard wood,
about two inches in diameter, containing a pulp mixed
with longitudinal fibres. The sago flower is procured
from this pith, and large quantities of it may be obtained
here at a very reasonable rate.

The inhabitants carry on a considerable trade in their
proas with Amboyna and the adjacent islands. They im-
port cutlery, scarlet cloth, china ware, gold lace, iron in
bars, opium, piece goods, and steel; and for these they
exchange mats, nutmegs, mace, cloves, beech de mer^
birds nests, pearl shells, seed pearl, and tortoise shell.

The Dutch were formerly masters of this island, but it
is now in the possession of independent rajahs. See Fo-
rest's Voyage; Hamilton's East India Gazetteer ; and
Milburn's Oriental Commerce.

GILSLAND, is a watering-place in Cumberland, much
resorted to in the summer season, chiefly on account of its
sulphureous mineral waters. It is situated on a steep bank
of the river Irthing, about two miles north of the road lead-
ing from Carlisle to Newcastle, and is about eighteen miles
distant from the former place. The water issues out of a
thin bed of argillaceous shiver, reposing on a stratum of
indurated argil, through a small leaden pipe, at the rate of
about two gallons and a half per minute. It exhales a
strong sulphureous odour, which may often be distinctly
jierceived at the distance of forty or fifty yards. When
first drawn from the spring, it is transparent and colour-
less, but becomes turbid on exposure to the air, and gradu-
ally loses its foetid smell. As the properties of these waters
were till late years but little known, Dr Garnet, formerly
professor of natural philosophy and chemistry in the Royal
Institution, undertook a series of experiments, of which
the following were the principal results: A solution of
acetite of lead, dropped into the water, produced a very
copious brown precipitate, which afterwards changed to
black. A similar change was produced in it by nitrate of
silver. An infusion of litmus was converted into a red.
Polished plates of silver or lead, immersed in the water,
soon became tarnished, and lost their metallic lustre. Mu-
riate of barytes, oxalic acid, and tincture of galls, produced
no apparent change. When the gaseous products were
expelled by boiling for about ten minutes, acetate of lead
and nitrate of silver produced a white precipitate, but mu-
riate of barytes and oxalic acid no efl"ect. A wine gallon
of this water evaporated slowly, yielded four grains of mu-
riate of soda. Fiom these experiments it is evident, that
this water is impregnated with sulphuretted hydrogen, and
carbonic acid gas in combination with muriate of soda. In
respect of chemical composition, therefore, it has a striking
resemblance to the sulphureous waters of Moffat. Besides
these saline and gaseous ingredients, the Gilsland waters,
like those of Buxton and Harrowgate, contain a consider-
able portion of nitrogen or azotic gas. A wine gallon,
English measure, of the Gilsland waters, yielded four
grains of solid matter, and twenty-five cubic inches of
elastic fluids, viz.

Of muriate of soda four grains.

Of sulphuretted hydrogen gas 17")

Of azotic or nitrogen gas . . 4 J. cubic inches.

Of carbonic acid gas .... 4J

GIN

Gilsland has been lonij celebrated in '.lie norllicrn coun-
ties ol' Kntjland as a pkicc of faslnonablc icsort, and i'or the
efficacy of its sulphureous waters in the cure of certain
nervous and bilious complaints, in diseases of the digestive
organs, dys|)rcda, hypochondriasis, and also in scrofulous
afl'ections. Taken internally, in doses of fioni half a pint
to two or three (|uarts (English measure) in the morning,
it generally acts very powerlully as a diuretic, increases
the cuticuiar discharge, and, from the moderate stimulus
of the carbonic acid, increases the appetite, and promotes
digestion. But these waters often jjruduce a degree of
constipation which ought to be carefully obvialeil, other-
vise a disagreeable giddiness and head-ache comes on.
Externally applied in the form of warm bath, it has been
employed with considerable advantage in herpetic erup-
tions; and particularly in those morbid derangements of
the dermoid texture, psoriasis, and lepra, which are refer-
red by Dr Willan to the order Squamae, in his admirable
treatise on cutaneous diseases. Locally applied, it is also
used to remove contractions and pains in the joints from
strains or hard glandular tumours, and is a valuable re-
medy in chronic rheumatism. Though the sulphureous
water is resorted to and chielly drank at Gilsland, there is
a fine chalybeate, situated on a moor, at no great distance
from tlie former spring. The water sparkles when pour-
ed into a glass, has a strong styptic taste, and deposits a
copious yellow sediment. A wine gallon of this chalybeate,
according to Dr Garnet, contains

Of iron 2U

Ol muriate ot soda 3 ^ '^

Of carbonic acid 14 ? ...

„ ,. . , > cubic inches.

Ol azotic gas 5 )

From this analysis, it would appear that this mineral
water, if properly administered, might prove a useful re-
medy in all cases where chalybeates are indicated, (.i. s.)

GINGEE, is a town and fortress in the Carnatic, and the
capital of a district of the same name.

The fort is situated on a stupendous and almost impreg-
nable rock, and has always been considered by the natives
of India as the strongest in the Carnatic. The climate is
very unhealthy ; and the French are stated to have lost 1200
troops during the 10 years in which it was in their pos-
session, although they never kept more than 100 Euro-
peans. It is situated 82 miles south-west from Madras,
and 37 north-west front Pondicheny. East Long. 79" 34',
and North Lat. 12° 15'.

GINGER, is the root of a plant which grows spon-
taneously in the East and West Indies, and in China. It
jlowers about August or September, and fades about the
end of the year. When the stalks are withered, the roots
are dug up, commonly in January and February, and are
picked, cleansed, and gradually scalded in boiling water.
They are then dried by exposure to the sun, and form
what is called 6/ack giriger. Wiiite ginger is the very
same root, but in order to produce it, the roots are not
scalded, but are picked, scraped, separately washed, and
dried very carefully. Ginger is generally sold in knotty,
branched, and flattish pieces, and is of a pale colour and
fibrous texture, when stripped of the outer bark. It should
generally be chosen in large roots, new, and not easily
broken ; its colour should be of a light brownish green,
and it should be resinous within, and of a pungent aro-
matic taste. The dark, soft, and fibrous kind, should be
rejected. Sometimes it is imported green from Bengal.
Preserved ginger is brought fiom the West Indies and
China, but the former is preferred. It is brought home
in large and somewhat transparent pieces, of a bright yel-

Vol. IX. Pakt II.

GIR

737

low colour. The jars whicli contain it should be carefully
sealed up.

The iollowing Table contains the quantities of ginger
imported and sold by tlie I'Last India Company, from 1804
to 1808. Sixteen cwt. of dry and 20 cwt. of green ginger
are allowed to the ton. The p(inianeiit duty is 14s. 6d.
per cwt. and the war duty, 4s. lOd.

Years.

\Iui-ch Sale.

Sept. .Siile.

Total.

.Vverage per cwl

Cut.

Cwt.

L. s. d.

1804

Ill

268

Ill

S65

2 7 9

1805

, ,

, .

1806

285

925

1001

2991

1.286

3916

3 Oil

1807

570

1488

229

581

799

2069

2 11 9

1808

925

2182

1320

3447

2245

5629

2 10 2

See Lewis's Materia Mcdica, and Milburn's Oriental
Commerce.

GINGOULPH, St, is a large village of Switzerland,
situated on the extreme frontier of the Lower Vallais, upon
the lake of Geneva, and at the fool of a rugged mountain,
from whose summits, called the Dcntt d'Oc/ie, about 5655
feet high, the environs of Geneva can be distinctly seen at
the distance of ten leagues. The village is divided into
two parts by a torrent, which issues from the valley of
Oche, and forms the boundary between Savoy and the
Vallais. The road from Evian to St Gingoulph, was for-
merly only a foot path, but the French government cut a
magnificent road out of the rock, which has been open to
all sorts of carriages since the 6th of December 1805. The
lime ol St Gingoulph is esteemed the best in this part of
Switzerland. See Ebel's Ma?iuel du Foyageur en Suisse.

GINSENG, is the name of a root which constitutes one
of the principal medicines of the Chinese and Tartars. It
grows chiefly in Chinese Tartary, and also in several parts
of North America, from which it is sent to China. This
trade to China was carried on by the French in 1750, and
subsequently by the English ; but since the Americans
establislied their independence, they have carried it direct
to China. The American root seldom exceeds the size of
the little finger. It is frequently forked, and is of a liorny
texture, and a yellowish-white colour. The large roots,
which are sound, fresh-coloured, and not very tough, are
those which should be chosen for the Chinese market. In
the year 1 709, the Emperor of China sent an army of 10,000
Tartars in search of this root, on condition that each soldier
should give him two catties of the best, and sell the rest
for its weight in silver. By this means the Emperor gain-
ed 20,000 catties in one year.

GIORNICO, called Irnis by the Germans, is a town of
Switzerland, situated on the Tesino, at the mouth of the
Lower Levantine valley. It stands 1098 feet above the
level of the sea, and 462 above that of the Lake Mag-
giore. The village, which is divided into two parts by the
Tesino, is encircled with superb chesnut trees, some of
which are more than thirty feet in circumference. Near
the bridge are the remains of an old castle, which is sup-
posed to have belonged to the ancient Gauls ; and in the
east are the I'uins of a tower built in 940. This town is
celebrated by the battle which 600 of the Swiss confede-
rates, under Henry Troger, gained over 15,000 of the
INIilanese, under Borelli, in 1478. More than 1500 of the
Milanese were killed, and most of their cannon, horses, and
mules taken. Several of the cannon were kept at Gior-
nico till 1798.

GIPSIES. See Gypsies.

(ilRGENTI, or Agbigexti, is a town of Sicily, built
on the spot which was formerly occupied by the citadel of

5 A

738 ii\t

Agrisciituin. It is situated on a mountain on the river
St Ijiaisc, at the dibtancc of about tierce miles IVoni the
sea. The streets, on account ol' their steepness, are im-
passaljlu l)oth for carriages and mules. The harbour of
(lirgcali is liable to be filled up by the south-east and
north-west winds. The erection of two piers having fail-
ed to remedy this evil, the harbour is constantly clearing
by galley slaves. The great magazines of the Carica-
loria are large excavations in the solid rock, in which great
quantiiies of corn are preserved without the least injury.
There is constantly in these magazines 80,000 salmes of
grain, a salnie being that which is sufficient for the annual
nourishment of one man. The magazines belong to the
king, who is accountable for the corn lodged in the caverns.
The proprietors pay a small sum for store-house rent. Fo-
reign merchants come to Girgenti to purchase the surplus
grain, when a sufficient quantity has been reserved lor the
Jionie consumption. See AGnniENTisi ; and Civil Akciu-

TECTURE. (y)

GIRONDE, is a department in the south of France,
bounded on the north by that of the Lower Chareiile, on
the west by the sea, on the south by the department of the
Landes, on the east by that of the Lot and Garonne, and by
Dordogne. Its superficial extent is about 11,270 square
kilometers, or 571 square leagues. It is watered by the
rivers Dordogne and Garonne, and the Gironde, which is
formed of the other two when united near Bec-d'Ambez,
where they form a vast bason, or rather an arm of the sea,
capable of receiving the largest ships. This department
has more a commercial than an agricultural character.
The districts of Blaye, Libourne, and Bazas, are very fer-
tile in corn, while that of Bourdeaux produces the finest
■wines, of which 100,000 tons are annually exported, in-
dependently of what is consumed in France. One of the
cantons of Esparse, near the sea, produces the celebrated
wines of Medac. The best red wines are those of the Bor-
tlelais, Haut-Biion, and St Emclion ; and the best white
■wines those of Sauterne, Langon, and Barzac. The other
productions of the province are, brandy, wood, cork, tur-
pentine, cattle, and fish. The following are the principal
towns :

Population.

Bourdeaux 112,844

Libourne 8,076

Bazas 4,215

LaReole 3,808

Blaye 3,580

Lespare SOO

The forests occupy 100,000 hectares, or about 200,000
acres, of which three-fourths belong to individuals. The
contributions in the year 1802 were 5,835,053 francs. Po-
pulation 519,685.

CilRVAN. See Ayrshire.

GIZAH, Djeza, Gize, or Jiza, is a town of Egypt
which stretches along the west bank of the Nile, and is
supposed by Dr Shaw to occupy the site of the ancient
Memphis. It is surrounded with walls of gicat extent,
about ten feet high and three feet tliick. They have only
one gate, and six half moons, and are intended to resist the
attacks of cavalry. Ismael Bey, who fortified the town,
b'lilt a palace in the southern quarter of the city. Theie
is here a cannon foundery established by Murad Bey, and
a manufacture of sal ammoniac. Splendid country houses,
with gardens, arc built to the north-east of the city. The
ground under the calcareous mountains, to the east, is filled
with tombs. The town is surrounded with numerous date
trees, which give it a fine appearance at a distance, when
intermixed with the lofty turrets of the mosques. Gizah

is tlie nearest town to the principal pyraniids, vvhicli are
called tlic Pyramids of Gizah. Tliey are distant only about
three leagues from the town. See Brown's 'I'raveU in
jifrica ; Savary's Letters ; and Sonini's Travels in Egy/u.
See also Envrx and Pyramid.

GLACIERS, Gletaclicr in ficrman, is a name given to
extensive fields of ice and indurated snow, which occur in
elevated mountainous districts, but particularly in the Alps
of Switzerland and Savoy.

In all elevated countries, where the mountains rise above
the line of perpetual congelation, their summits and flanks
are covered with eternal snow. The snow which falls on
these lofty regions at different seasons of the year, con-
tinues nearly in its original state, being converted into a
substance of an intermediate character between snow and
ice. On the sides of the mountainous declivities, there is
more ice than on the summits ; but still these fields of in-
durated, or of half-congealed snow, are by no means en-
titled to the name of glaciers, although they have been
very improperly called the Upper Glaciers by an intelli-
gent traveller.

The real glaciers are those accumulations of ice and
snow which occupy the high vallies between individual
mountains, generally far below tlie line of perpetual con-
gelation, and extend themselves into the cultivated vallies
which border upon the great chain. These glaciers are
commonly encircled with lofty mountains ; they stretch
from north to south, and very lew have an easterly or a
westerly direction.

The general character of a glacier depends upon the
nature and state of the valley in which it lies. VV'hen the
sides of the valley are smooth, and its inclination small,
there is little variety in the appearance of the glacier. It
presents a tolerably smooth surface, and is intersected with
few rents or ravines. When the sides of the valley are
rough and unequal, and its general inclination considera-
ble, the surface is divided by deep chasms, and covered
with numerous elevations, sometimes 50 or 100 feet high.
If the declivity is more than 30° or 40°, the large cliffs
and masses of ice are forced against each other with great
violence, and are accumulated in the most varied and sin-
gular forms. These general remarks will be better un-
derstood from a particular description of the two celebrat-
ed glaciers of De Boisson and De Bois, in the valley of
Chamouni, as they were seen by the writer of this article
in the autumn of 1814.

After crossing the Arve, above Servoz, by the wooden
bridge of St Pelissier, and ascending a steep and rugged
road, the sides of which are every where marked by the
scoops and rents which Sir James Hall has observed on
the whinstone and sandstone rocks in Scotland, we ap-
proach the village of Chavanon, and obtain a fine view of
the different peaks of Montblanc. The village of Les
Ouches is seen in front, and the Glacier de Boisson dis-
tinctly appears on the flank of Montblanc, stretching its
frozen masses into the plain. We now leave the road, and
after a little more than half an hour's walk through a fine
meadov/, and a gloomy forest of lofty pines, we reach the
glacier. Its lower extremity and its lofty sides rise into
high peaks and pyramids of ice, resembling regular crys-
tals, and having their hollows and crevices of a bright
azure blue, which forms a fine contrast with the broken
sunbeams diverging in every direction from the numerous
surfaces by which they are reflected. On ascending the
hill, we reach the plateau or surface of the glacier, which
does not present any thing remarkable. Its gently undu-
lating surface is crossed with numerous chasms, and cover-
ed with enormous masses of granite, which are gradually
transported to a lower level, and accumulate in the plain

GLACIEIJS.

7,39

below, forming wliat is called tlic moraines des glaciers.
The Glacii-r tie Uoisson is bouiuletl on the easl side by
lofty pines, many of whicli are crushed to ])ieccs by liie
irresistible pressure of (he walls of ice ; and the j^round in
tlie neiglibourhood is torn up, as if great convulsions were
constantly accompanying the fall and descent of the icy
cliffs. A few hundred yards only intervene between this
region of sterility and desolation, and the rich and cul-
tivated fields in the valley.

The Glacier de Bois lias quite a different character from
that of Boisson ; and though it docs not rise into such sin-
gular and varied shapes, yet its vast extent and its remark-
able situation, and perhaps the difficulty of reaching it,
render it a still more interesting object to the traveller.
In order to examine this glacier, we left Chamouni about
half past one o'clock upon mules; and after ascending a
steep and rugged declivity, through a wood of firs, we
reached, in 52 minutes, that part of the ascent where it
was necessary to exchange our mules for long poles point-
ed with iron. The footpath crosses a deep ravine cut out
by an avalanche ; and at the end of other 43 minutes, we
obtained a splendid view of the Aveyron, rushing out with
great fury from below its icy covering, and throwing itself
over a lofty precipice. At the end of two hours from our
setting out, we reached the summit of Montanvert, v.hich
is 5724 feet above the level of the sea, and 2568 above that
of the valley.

After resting half an hour in the temple erected for the
accommodation of travellers, by M. Felix Desportes, the
French resident at Geneva, we descended the hill till we
reached the Mer de Glace. At first sight, this immense
field oi ice, about six miles long and one and a half wide,
has the same appearance as if a tumultuous and highly agi-
tated sea had been suddenly frozen; but upon examining
it more narrowly, we found it intersected with numerous
chasms and ravines, some of which are 100 feet deep. On
the sides of these crevices the ice is most perfect, and has
a fine blue colour; while on the surface, which is granular
and porous, the congelation appears to have been less com-
plete. By the assistance of our long poles we entered up-
on the Mer de Glace, and from our recollection ofSaus-
sures's description of the hazards which attend such a jour-
ney, we were not a little surprised at the apparent absence
of all danger. The assistance of the guide was sometimes
necessary to cross the yawning chasms ; but in other re-
spects we experienced no difficulty. We ])asscd a huge
block of granite about 24 feet high, resting on the ice, and
in the act of gradually descending to the valley ; and we
were now considerably advanced upon the glacier. Hither-
to we had attended only to the objects below our feet, and
were quite unaware of the magnificent situation in which
we were placed. The whole of this frozen sea is surround-
ed with bare and lofty mountains. On the north-cast, tiie
red aiguille of Drcux rises like a huge obelisk to tlie height
of 5832 feet above Montanvert, occasionally displaying
its strongly illuminated summit from among masses of
clouds that rolled about its base. On the south-west ap-
peared the black peak of Charmoz ; and on the south-east,
where the glacier divides itself into two branches, called the
Glacier of Lechaud, and the Glacier of Tacul, we discover
the aiguilles of Lechaud, and the Great and Little Jorasse,
the lofty peaks of the Giant and of Tacul. The black de-
solation which presented itself on every side ; the dreary
and unbroken silence which reigned around, and the suljli-
inity and novelty with which every object was marked, gave
to the present scene a peculiarly impressive character, of
which it is impossible to form tlie least conception. The
sound of the waters rushing below, at the depth of 80 or
100 feet, which is the general height of the glacier, and tlie

crashing noise of large stones loosened by the melting of
the ice and lunibling into tiic chasms, begin to remind the
traveller that his situation is not without daiigei-. A simi-
lar but louder noise arises during winter from the forma-
tion of the chasms, which sometimes shakes the whole mass
with a noise like thunder, aiifl which is the general harbin-
ger of a change oi weather. In many [daces lliere is some-
thing like a vertical stratification in the icy masses, stretch-
ing in the direction of the valley, and the surface of the ice
has an appearance as if intersected by veins. Towards
the edge of the Mer de (ilace, the ice is covered with
pounded granite, and huge masses of this rock mark the
boundary between the glacier and the mountain. In those
places where the ice is covered with sand, it appears com-
pletely black, like the darkest cairngorms, while in other
places the perfect ice is green. U|)on breaking this ap-
parently black ice, however, we found it quite transparent,
and remarkably pure and hard.

^Ve now descended Montanvert by another road, in or-
der to see the extremity of the glacier, where it delivers
the waters of the Aveyron. The whole of the glacier is
supported on a granite base, which terminates towards the
plain in a lofty precipice. The Aveyron formerly issued
from below the glacier, through a frozen vault, where the
rock had very little height ; but it now discharges itself at
a much higher point, producing a waterfall of great height
and impetuosity. Sometimes it issues with dreadful force,
and then abates, and over those parts of the rock where
no water flows, huge masses of ice are constantly preci-
pitating themselves, willi a noise like that of the loudest
artillery.

In ascending the valley, for the purpose of crossing the
Col de Balme, we saw also tlie glaciers of Argcntiere and
Trient, which do not merit any particular description. The
glacier of Argentiere lies at the foot of the lofty aiguille of
the same name. It is covered at its extremity with blocks
of granite, and almost blackened by a profusion of granite
sand.

Thei e is another species of glacier of a very interesting
nature, but essentially different from those which we have
described. One of them is in France near Beaume, and the
other in the Carpathian mountains of Hungary. The first
of these glaciers is near the village of Beaume, in a deep
cave. The mouth of the cave is forty-five feet wide, and
after reaching by a long descent a hall 100 feet high, a lad-
der of about 40 feet long conducts to the glacier. About
the beginning of the last century it was completely filled
with ice, which was renewed every summer. The water,
which descended on all sides from the surface, formed huge
pyramids of solid ice, partly hanging from the rock, and
partly shooting up from below. In winter, this cavern,
which is 700 or 800 feet below ground, was filled with
smoking water. The ground above it was formerly cover-
ed witli huge trees, wliich kept off the sun's rays ; but in
1724, a country-house having been erected on the place, the
trees were cut, and the ice carried away for the use of
the proprietor. The entrance of the cavern was covered
up with a wall, and the ice has not formed so rapidly since
that time. The glacier and cavern of Tselitz is in a very-
lofty rock in the ('arpathian mountains. Its mouth is large,
its width is 25 fathoms, and it penetrates to a depth of "so
fathoms, advancing still farther by a rough and winding
passage. When the snow, which clothes the mountain in
winter, begins to melt in spring, it filters through the rocks,
and falls in di-ops, which are instantly frozen, and which
form jiyramids of ice both in tbe roof and on the floor of
the cavern. The cavern is thus lined with ice, sparkling
like the most brilliant crystals. M. Bel informs us, that
six hundred carls would not l>e able to carrv off this ice in.
5 A 2

GLACIEIIS.

a week. At Ihc a|)])roar.1i of auUinin llic ice begins to melt ;
and at tlie bes;inniiii< of winter the air is miltl, the eartli dry,
and not a vestige of ice is to be seen.

It was long the opinion of the vulgar, and even of some
intelligent writers, that the glaciers increased from below ;
and M. Altmann was the first who maintained their true
origin, although he erroneously supposed that the pyramids
of ice rose from the glacier itself In order to explain the
origin of glaciers, let us suppose that all the lofiy moun-
tains and peaHs which surround tlie (Jlacier de Hois have
been covered with snow dining winter. At the approach
of spring, the snow at low altitudes, and :tt the place where
the glacier itself exists, is completely melted by tlie influ-
ence of the sun and the rains. At a greater altitude, vary-
ing with the latitude of the place, and with local circum-
stances, the snow is only partly melted, and having, there-
fore, imbibed a great quantity of water, it is frozen into a
mass of imperfect ice during the succeeding winter. A
fresh fall of snow covers these frozen spaces, and is in its
turn converted into imperfect ice. In this way, the ice is
accumulated during every succeeding winter, till the equi-
librium of the mass is destroyed, either by its own mag-
nitude, or by other causes, and the whole is precipitated in
the form of an avalanche into the valley below. The snow
which falls in still higher regions, lies in tranquillity on the
level summits, or the hollow cavities of the mountain; but
that which falls upon the declivities is easily loosened by
any sndden thaw, and falling down, it adds either to the ac-
cumulated ice below, or passes directly to the bed of the
glacier. The ice thus collected from the surrounding
heights will experience particular changes in its new situa-
tion. It is now subject to the action of the sun and the
rain, which will wear down the high and angular masses
into pyramidal and other shapes; and the water will fall
down the chasms, and give a i)articular transparency to
their sides. At the lower extremity of the glacier, towards
the plain, the greatest changes will take place. The fall
of the exterior masses will be followed by the advance of
those behind them, and a movement will thus be propagat-
ed throughout the whole glacier.

From these causes, the glaciers will progressively de-
scend to the plains below; and the I'apidity of their motion
will depend upon the inclination of the bed on which they
rest, and on the magnitude and velocity of the reinforce-
ments which they receive from fresh avalanches. The
stream wh.ich flows from the extremity of the glacier, forms
in general a vault of ice above, which gradually widens as
the ice melts, and when it can no longer sustain the super-
incumbent mass, it is crushed by its own weight, and gives
place to the masses behind it. This progressive motion of
the glaciers, is rendered visible by the variation in the po-
sition of large stones on the surface, or of trees frozen in
the ice. In the glacier of Chamouni, the progressive mo-
tion has been observed to be 14 feet in the year; and on
those of Grindehvald, 150 feet in six years, or 25 feet in the
year.

It has been a question keenly agitated among naturalists,
whether the glaciers are in a state of increase or diniiim-
tion,' and each party has succeeded in proving the truth of
his opinion. We may necessarily infer, theieture, that they
sometimes increase and son)etimes diminish. The lower
extremity which projects into the plain, sometimes con-
tinues to diminish for a series of years, as the quantity whicli
is annually dissolved is not replaced by the superjacent
masses. At other limes, when they are copiously suppli-
ed by fiesh avalanches, they advance more rapidly than they
dissolve, and therefore encroach upon the cultivated
plains. Their augmentation commonly takes place in

spring, and when they have made great inroads upon the
lower ground, they arc generally foundto diminish for some
years afterwards.

We have already had occasion to mention both the
masses of granite rock, which lie upon the surface of the
glacier, and the heaps of enormous stones, called the Mo-
raine or Afurren, which are accumulated at its lower ex-
tremity. These stones sometimes are totally different from
those in the valley where they now lie, and must have been
detached from rocks often six or eight leagues distant.
These stones are frequently accumulated in separate
mounds like hillocks or graves, and arranged in parallel
lines of a considerable height and width. These are gene-
rally called Gouffrelyncs, and appear on a great scale in
the glacier of Rosboden on the Siniplon. Sometimes a
large regular pyramid of ice is seen, with a huge stone up-
on its summit. The heaps of stones which we have men-
tioned, contain in general specimens of the rocks in the
higher regions of the mountains.

It has been already stated, that the glaciers are compos-
ed of different kinds of ice. Some of it is granulated and
imperfectly frozen, other parts have a transparent green co-
lour, as in the chasms and crevices, v/hile that which is
near the heaps of gravel, is of a bluish black colour. The
only exception to the generality of this remark occurs in
the glacier of Rosboden, the whole of which consists of ice,
hard, firm, and compact, and of a blackish blue colour.

The vaults of ice are always formed at the exit of the
little stream which runs below the glacier. In winter, all
these openings are closed up by ice, but the heat of spring
speedily dissolves it, and vaults, sometimes 100 feet long,
and 50 or 60 wide, are formed. The figure and magnitude
of these sufTei' constant changes. That of the Aveyron, once
so iTiuch admired, is no longer in existence.

In the extensive alpine chain from Montblanc to the bor-
ders of the Tyrol, there are no fewer than 400 glaciers, the
greater part of which are six or seven leagues long, by one
half or three quarters of a league wide, and from 100 to 600
feet thick. A very few of these are so small as a league
in length. M. Ebel has calculated, as nearly as can be
done, their general extent, and has found that those be-
tween Switzerland and Moniblanc, and on the frontiers of
the Tyrol, would form a single glacier of 130 square
leagues.

For farther iiiformation on this subject, we must refer
the reader to the article Alps, where he will find an ac-
count of the glacier of Furca, the glacier of the Aar, and
the glaciers of Grindehvald and Lauterbrunnen. See also
Grouner's Histoire A'aturelle des Glaciers dc -Suissf, trans-
lated by Keralio ; Saussure Voyages dans les Aljies ; Ebel's
Mamiel du Voxjageitr en Suisse; Lambert's Voyage Pit-
toresrjue en Suisse.

GLADIATORS is the name given to persons usually
slaves, or condenuied criminals, wlio were brought out to
fight one another for the amusement of the Roman people.
See Rome.

GLAMORGANSHIRE, a maritime county in South
Wales, is hounded on the north by Cacrmarthenshire and
Brecknockshire ; on the south by Merionethshire ; on the
east by Monntouthshirc, from which it is separated by the
river Rumsey; and on the south and west by the Bristol
Channel. The greater part of its seacoast swells into a
semicircular sweep ; but the west extremity is formed into
a narrow beak, between the open channel and an arm run-
ning I'ound the coast of Caermarthen. The county mea-
sures from east to west 48 miles; from north to south, at
the broadest part, 26 miles: its circumference is 123
miles. It contains 822 square milts, or 526,680 acres.

GLVMOllG ATS SHIRE.

'41

There is in it one cily, LandalT; one county town, CardifT;
ten luindi-ciis, viz. Cr\erfilly, Cowbridgc, iJinas Powis, Kib-
ber, Langwelack, Wiskin, Neath, Newcastle, Ot;morc, and
Swansea; eight market towns, and 118 parishes. It re-
turns two members to parliament, one for tlie county, and
one for Carditf, and is in tlie province of Canterbury ; three
parts of it are in the diocese ofLandafT, tlic remaining part
in the diocese of St David's. Tlicre are in it two deane-
ries, Landaff and Cowbridge; and it pays one part of the
land-tax. The north part of the county is very mountain-
ous and barren ; thinly inhabited, and serving chiefly for
the feeding of cattle and slieep. It this part various rivers
take their rise, whicli run to the south through vales, gra-
dually enlarging ; thus forming a middle district tolerably
adapted for cultivation, and at last terminating in the great
level or vale of Glamorgan. This is a tract extending along
the sea-coast to the distance of eight or ten miles inland,
the most fertile part in Wales, tich in corn and pasture, and
well furnished with coals, lead, iron, and limestone : it is
open, but not a dead flat : it has an undulated surface, on a.
dry substratum of limestone. The land is inclosed with
good hedges, mostly hawthorn. To the north and north-
east, the vale is well sheltered by mountains. To the south,
it has tlie dry, rocky shores of the Bristol channel, without
any fens. Another district of Glamorganshire, deserving
particular notice, is what is termed Gowerland : it is a tract
of country bounded by the Neath and Louglior rivers. Its
circuit is between 40 and 50 miles ; in point of landscape,
it is inferior to most other parts of the county ; but the ori-
gin and habits of the people, and its antiquities and curiosi-
ties, render it highly worthy of attentive examination. It
abounds in many places with deep pits. The east side is
remarkably fruitful and well cultivated. The south-west
is inhabited by the successors of a colony of Flemings, pro-
bably planted there at the same period that the Flemings
were settled in Pembrokeshire. They do not understand
the Welsh language ; but are distinguished by their dialect
and provincial dress, and rarely iiitermarry with the Welsh.
They wear what is called a whittle, made of fine wool,
dyed scarlet, nearly a yard square, with a fringe at bottom.
This garment is thrown across the shoulders, and fastened
with a pin or broach ; anciently it was fastened with the
prickle of the black thorn, which is still used by some of
the old women.

The climate of the higher parts of Glamorganshire is of
course rather severe ; but in the lower districts it is un-
commonly mild, so that myrtles, magnolias, and other ten-
der exotics, grow luxuriantly in the open air.

The principal rivers are the Lower Taafe, which rises
in the mountains that separate Glamorganshire from Breck-
nockshire, and traversing a wild district towards the south,
falls into the Bay of Glamorgan, near Swansea. The
Neath, a much more considerable river than the former,
rises in the same mountains, more to the eastward; de-
scending from these with great rapidity, it forms a deep
valley, through which it flows to the south-west to Neath,
where it meets the tide ; and after several windings in the
marsh below that town, falls into the Bay of Swansea. The
Avon, the Ogmore, and the Ewenny, are three small rivers
which cross the vale of Glamorgan, each falling succes-
sively into Glamorgan Bay. The Taafe rises within the
limits of Brecknockshire, considerably to the eastward of
the source of the Neath ; soon after passing Merthyr Tyd-
vil, it precipitates itself into the deep abyss of a vale, forc-
ing its way with great fury between mountains and woods,
till, not far from Caerfilly, it is crossed by the wonderful
structure of the Pont-y-Pryd — a stone bridge of a single
arch, supposed one of the widest, constructed of masonry,
in the world: this bridge springs from ruck to rock, with

indescribable lightness and beauty. Several miles lower,
the Taafe emeiges into a spacious and well-inhabited plain,
in whici) Landafiand CardiPTare situated : llowiijg through
their bridges, it meets the tide, and traverses a bioad marsii
to fall into the sea, opposite to the high rock of Pennarlh.

The level and more cultivated parts of Glamorganshire
are rather destitute of wood ; but its eastern and western
extremities are well wooded. The inagnificemly clothed
hills of Margam, Bagland, Bi'iton Ferry, and the vale of
Neath, unite the beauties of cultivation with the luxuriance
of forest scenery. The wood, which rises immediately from
the church of IVIargam, covers the breast of a mountain
800 feet in height, and more than a mile in circumference ;
the value of the oak timber has been estimated at 60,000/.

The agriculture of this county presents little that is in-
teresting ; it is behind many other counties in Wales, al-
though the vale of Glamorgan offers many facilities to
the husbandman. It is naturally fertile, and lime is every
where to be found in abundance, and with case. On the
mountains, a breed of sheep, somewhat similar to those on
the Cotswold hills, is kept. The cattle of this county,
which ressmbic those of Normandy, are in high repute for
draught.

But it is its mineral productions, and its manufactures
depending upon them, which distinguish and enrich Gla-
morganshire. It abounds in limestone, iron, and coal.
With respect to that most extensive bed of limestone, of
which nearly the whole of Glamorganshire forms only a
part, it commences with the eastern extremity of the coun-
ty, and, taking a direction due west, runs in a straight line
to Swansea Bay, appearing again in Gowerland, and, having
passed under Caermarthen Bay, is seen to occupy the
greatest part of the south and west of Pembrokeshire. The
neighbourhood of Merthyr Tydvil abounds with excellent
coal, iron ore, mill-stones, and limestone rocks. Excellent
flag-stone for paving, and a very good kind of slate, are
found in this neighbourhood, and, indeed, throughout the
mountainous district of Glamorgan. On the left of the
road about Pentyrch are very extensive coaleries, and
abundance of iron ore. In some respects this county is in-
teresting to the geologist. On the top of Curn Bryn, one
of the highest mountains in South Wales, is a huge crom-
lech, consisting principally of an immense stone of lapis
molaris. The lake of Config is esteemed a singular geo-
logical curiosity. The water is contained in a depression of
an irregular foi'm, in tiie midst of sands ; and, though lying
within a very short distance of the sea at flood tides, inva-
riably retains its freshness pure and untainted. At a short
distance from Newton Noltagc is the well mentioned by
Camden, which ebbs and flows reversely with the tide of
the sea. The only mineral spring in the county of Glamor-
gan is at Swansea. This spring has an acid, styptic taste,
like alum, though the predominant salt in it is the sulphate
of iron. It turns blue with vinegar, but will not curdle
with milk.

The principal manufactures of iron, copper, &c. are at
Swansea, Merthyr Tydvil, and Neath. In 1720, Swansea
was noted for the manufacture of straw hats; in 1730, the
first copper work was established, on the east side of the
river; since that period they have gradually increased, as
well as the iron works, to an extent equalled in few parts
of the kingdom. Lead is also smelted here. The copper
is brought from Anglesey, Cornwall, and Devon. Merthyr
Tydvil vas a very inconsiderable village till 1755, when
the iron and coal mines in its vicinity first attracted atten-
tion; and a Mr Bacon obtained the lease of a district abound-
ing in them, eight miles long and four wide, for 200/. per
annum. About 10 years ago, about 190 tons of iron were,
on an average, sent weekly, from one person's works only,

•42

GLA

to CaidilT. The number of smelling houses is sixteen.
About ihe year 1800, an overshot wheel was constructed,
upwards of fifty feet in diameter, and six in breadth ; the
gudgeons, on which it turns, are supposed to be the largest
in tlie kingdom. The quantity of iron sent from Penydar-
ran works by the canal, averages annually about 7000 tons ;
the Dowlas works produce annually about 5000 tons ; and
the Plymouth works about 4000 tons. In the neighbour-
liood of Neath arc very extensive works for the manufac-
ture of iron and copper. Two immense blast furnaces pro-
duce 30 tons of pig-iron every week. A copper foiandery
and manufactory, on a very extensive plan, is carried on
near the village of Margam, the works of which consume
70 tons of coal daily. The tin works of Melin Gryffyd, four
miles to the north of Cardiff, are, perhaps, the largest in
the kingdom; producing not less than 13,000 boxes of tin
plates, each containing 225 plates, in or.e year.

The internal commerce and manufactures of this county
are much facilitated by its canals. The canal fou the car-
riage of the coal to the Neath river, was the first work of
the kind attempted in Wales. There is a bog of two miles,
between the colliery and the river, the spongy nature of
which, for some time, baffled the skill of the engineers.
The length of the canal is little more than three miles ; it
was executed entirely at the expence of a private individu-
al. The canal from Merthyr Tydvil to Cardiff, was com-
pleted in 1798 ; it is navigable for barges of 100 tons. In
some places it skirts precipitous mountains, at the height
of 300 feet above the river Taafe, which it accompanies.
The space it passes is 26 miles ; in which there are 40
locks, and as many bridges. The new iron rail-way runs
nearly by its side. The fall of the canal is nearly 600 feet.
The head of the Swansea canal in Brecknockshire is 372
feet above the level of the Tawy at Swansea bar ; there are
36 locks upon it in the space of 16 miles, and several aque-
ducts.

As connected with the antiquities of this county, the an-
cient buildings, called Church-houses, may be mentioned.
There are at least fifty of them still remaining in this dis-
trict. Their origin and use are not accurately known ; but
most probably they were the halls in which the courts of
legislation and of justice were held for the respective petty
lordships of the great lordship of Glamorgan, everyone of
whom exercised jura regalia. The Roman stations, forts,
and camps in this county are generally understood to be at
Cardiff, Caerfilly, and Caera. The great Roman road runs
over Newton Down, through Kenfig, Margam, Aberavon,
and Neath. But the most celebrated monument of anti-
quity is Caerfilly castle, now in ruins, said to have been the
largest in the kingdom, next to that of Windsor. The wall
of the celebrated leaning tower of this castle is still between
70 and 80 feet high, and of a prodigious thickness. It
hangs lU feet out of the perpendicular.

It is a very common practice in this county to plant the
graves with flowers, or with sweet-scented herbs. No per-
son ever plucks them up; but a relation or a friend will
gather a little, and wear it in remembrance of the deceased.
When a young couple are to be married, their way to
church is strewed with sweet-scented flowers and ever-
greens. About two miles from Cowbridge is a place fa-
mous for the meeting of the Welsh bards : it took place
annually on the 28ih of May, under the immemorial patron-

age of the Ilcnsolt family, at whose expence they were en-
tertained. The last [iiccling was held in 1720 ; and in con-
sequence of the death of Richard Jenkins, the last of the
family, it was discontinued.

In the time of the Romans, Glamorganshire was inhabi-
ted by the Silures: it was, in succeeding ages, an inde-
pendent principality, which was overrun and divided by
some of William's Norman nobles in the year 1038.

By the population returns, there were, in 1811, 8217
families in this couruy, principally employed in agricul-
ture, and 7915 in manufactures, kc. (w. s.)

GLANDS. See Physiology.

GLANDliRS. See Veterinauy Medicine.

GLARIS, or Glarus, is a town of Switzerland, and the
chief place of a caiiton of the same name. The town is
very gloomily situated upon the river Linth, and is large
and populous. The town-house is a good building, and
contains, in one of the antichambers, the huge horns of the
Bouquetin, an animal which was destroyed in the canton
about the end of the 16th century, and also a bear which
was killed in the Alps in 1716. There is here a good pub-
lic library, founded by a society in 1758. India stuffs and
drabs are manufactured at Claris; and there are mills in
which is prepared the famous green cheese, known by the
name of Schabzigher. There is an agreeable promenade
to Enneda, a thriving little town, inhabited by about 150
families. The inhabitants of Glaris are principally mer-
chants, who wander through the whole of Europe, from
Lisbon to Moscow.

GLARIS, Canton of, is one of the Swiss cantons, ex-
tending about !5 leagues in length and 7 in breadth. It
contains 21^ square geographical miles, only two of which
are arable. This canton consists of a great valley, and
three lateral vallies, enclosed on all sides except the north-
east by lofty mountains, rising to the height of from 5000
to 11037 feet. The vallies of this canton are watered by
the Linth, the Sernft, and the Lonlsch ; and its principal
lakes are those of Wallenstadt and Clonthal, and some
smaller ones among the mountains. Some corn and grapes,
and much fruit, are raised in the canton. In summer, about
7000 or 8000 cattle are pastured on the mountains; but,
in winter, they do not exceed 4000 or 5000. The milk is
principally employed in making butter and the celebrated
Schabzigher cheese, which is exported in great quantities.
The blue mclilot, one of its principal ingredients, is care-
fully cultivated by the inhabitants. Goats are so numerous,
that every commune has about 300 or 400. Since the year
1802, the Merino sheep have been introduced, and the wool
of the country has been thus ameliorated. The inhabitants
are distinguished by habits of active industry. England
was supplied with writing slates from the valley of Sernft,
till the opening of the Caernarvonshire quarries. At the
beginning of the 13th century, a manufactory for linen
cloth was established. The spinning of cotton was intro-
duced in 1714, and from 1755 to 1760 muslins were fabri-
cated. Since that time, India stuffs, pocket handkerchiefs,
stockings, and muslin shawls, have been manufactured.
Paper is also made in the canton, and muslin embroidered.
The climate is very mild in the vallies. The spring is
early, and strawberries are ripe in the middle of April, and
cherries about the end of^Iay. In 1S03, the population of
the canton was 24,000.

743

GLASGOW.

(JLASGOwisa great commercial ami manufacturiiii^ city
ol' Lanarkshire in Scotland, situated on the noilli bank of
the river Clyde, in West Long. 4° 15' 51", and North Lat.
55° 52' 10".*

There is no authentic record by which the origin of the
city can be ascertained. Its name, in the Gaelic language,
signifies a i;rey smith. It has since been inferred that a
person of this description, eminent in his profession, had
taken up his residence in the place, and that, in compli-
ment to him, it had received this name.

In the year 5 60, it is said, a bishopric was founded here
by St Mungo, or Kentigern, and to this circumstance the
origin of the place lias been attributed ; it being probable
that the sanctity of the residence of this holy man, and the
observance of miracles which would in all probability take
place, would naturally draw those to the spot who were re-
ligiously inclined.

From this period, and for the space of more than 500
years, history lias declined to record any thing worthy of
notice respecting this place. Prior to 1100, it would ap-
pear, the Bishop's church was a mean building, chielly
constructed of timber, and had gone into decay.

In the year 1123, John Achuius, nominated bishop by
David I. finished and decorated a considerable part of the
present cathedral, and solemnly consecrated it in presence
of the king, who immediately bestowed on the church the
lands of Perdeyc, now Partic, kc. This prelate divided
the diocese into two archdeaneries of Glasgow and Tiviot-
dale, established the offices of dean, sub-dean, chancellor,
treasurer, sacrist, chanter, and successor, and settled a
prebendary on each of them, out of the donations he re-
ceived from the king.

In 1174, Joceline, abbot of Melrose, was elected bishop
of Glasgow, and made an addition to the cathedral, which
had been so far carried on by John Achaius. He also pro-
cured a charter from William, King of Scotland, surnamed
the Lion, in 1180, erecting Glasgow into a royal burgh,
and likewise a charter to hold a fair for eight days annually.

In 1387, during the time that Matthew Glcndoning was
bishop, the great spire of the cathedral, which had hitherto
been formed of timber, was consumed by lightning. In
1408, his successor, William Lauder, built the great
tower of stone as far as the first battlement : he also laid
the foundation of the vestry of the cathedral. The great
tower of the Episcopal palace was founded about the year
1437, and carried on by the exertions of Bishop Cameron.

In 1450, Bishop Turnbull obtained from King James II.
a charter, erecting the town and the patrimonies of the
bishopric into a regality. He also procured a bull from
Pope Nicholas V. for erecting a university within the
city, which he endowed, and on which he bestowed many
privileges.

The establishment of this seat of literature contributed,
more than anything that had formerly been done, towards
the enlargement of the town, which, before this period, was so
inconsiderable as not to contain more than 1500 inhabitants.
In the year 1488, the bishopric of Glasgow v^as erected by
act of Parliament into a metropolitan see, and the tempora-
lities and liberties of the church were after this confirmed
by a charter of James VI.

Prior to the year 1400, it would appear that the inhabi-
tants chiefly resided in the vicinity of the cathedral, and in

that part of the High Street v.'hich is bounded by the ca-
tliedral and the convent of the Blatk Fiiars, (now the Col-
lege Church.) On the establishment of the university, the
number of buildings gradually increased downwards to
where the cross now is, and from thence eastwards on the
Gallowsgate (now Gallowgate.) Some time after this pe-
riod, the citizens founded a collegiate church in the Tron-
gate, which they dedicated to the Blessed Virgin; and this
circumstance naturally induced the citizens to continue
their buildings as far west as this place of worship, which
now bears the name of the Tron Church. It then became
necessary for the inhabitants to form the Saltmarket Street,
so as to procure an easy approach to the Clyde. As ma-
ny of the citizens supported themselves by fishing in the
river, they were incorporated into a society ; and in order
that they might be at hand to prosecute their business, they
built a considerable part of the Fishersgate Street, which
has since gone under the name of Bridgegate Street.

Notwithstanding this apparent extension, Glasgow at this
time held but an inferior rank among the towns of Scot-
land ; for it appears that, even in 1556, at Queen Mary's
taxation, it held only the eleventh place. This inferiority
has been attempted to be explained in various ways ; among
others it has been remarked, that in proportion as the re-
formed religion preponderated, the money which had been
expended in the town by the bishop, and the other digni-
taries of the church, would be directed into other channels;
and as the early reformers undervalued human learning, if
they did not entirely despise it, the influence of the college
was for a time suspended ; it may be also remarked, that
Glasgow suffered severely during the civil wars, and af-
terwards experienced the miseries of famine and pesti-
lence. In 1652, a great fire broke out, which destroyed a
considerable number of the houses in the Saltmarket, Tron-
gate, and High Streets, which at that time were formed of
timber. By this calamity, the habitations of nearly one
thousand families were completely destroyed, and their for-
tunes nearly ruined ; so that they were under the necessity
of applying to other towns for relief. Nothwithstanding
these discouraging circumstances, we find that Glasgow
had so far recovered from her disasters, that in 1695, at
the assessment of the burghs, she was rated as the second
in Scotland in point of wealth.

From the year 1450, when the town and the patrimony of
the bishops were incorporated, down to the Reformation,
the bishops, or certain lay lords in their right, nominated
the magistrates. Although the parliament, in 1633, de-
clared the burgh to be royal, with freedom of election, we
find it afterwards disturbed by Cromwell and the Privy
Council.

In 1690, the town was again declared free by a charter
of William and Mary, which was confirmed by an act of
Parliament in the same year, to the effect that the town
council should have power to elect their own magis-
trates, as fully and freely in all respects as the city of Edin-
burgh, or any other royal burgh within the kingdom. This
freedom of election has continued ever since.

Prior to the union between England and Scotland, the
river was not in a state to bring up vessels of burden to the
city ; the magistrates, therefore, purchased eleven acres of
ground near the village of Newark, to enable them to form
a sea-port town. In 1710, we find that wharves, docks,

This is the position of the New Glasgow Observatory, as determined by the observations of Mr. Cross. F.u.

744

GLASGOW.

and storehouses, had been erected, a baillic ajipoinlcd, and
the town, which was now called rort-Glasgow, loiincd into
a separate parish, with right of patronage.

The armorial bearing of the city is on a field parti, p.
fcss. argent and gules, an oak tree surmounted with a
bird in chief, a salmon with a gold stoned ring in its mouth
in base, and on a brancii on the sinister side, a liell languid
or, all proper. The motto, " Let Glasgow flourish." In
i'ornier times, " through the preaching of the word," was
added 10 the motto.

The situation of this city commands the attention of stran-
gers : It lies on the north bank of the Clyde, is bounded on
the west by the village of Anderslon, on the cast by the
Calton and Bridgeton, on the north by the Barony or Land-
ward Parish, and on the south by the river.

The air, though generally healthy, is somewhat moist.
The average of rain which has fallen for 30 years previous
to 1790, is 29 ^g'g inches. The greatest quantity in any
year curing that period was in 1775, which was 43 Jg inch-
es, and the least, which was in the year 1788, was 19 755
inches.

The following Table shews the quantity of rain that fell
at the Macfarlane observatory from IKlo to 1814, as mea-
sured by an excellent rain-gage liy Crichton of Glasgow :
Inches. Iiichos. Inches.

1810 25.132 I 1812 22. 81 1814 19.522

1811 27.801 I 1813 18368

In 1712, the river was swoln to a height never before re-
membered. On the 12th March 1782, it rose 13 inches
higher than in 1712, so that boats were floated in the streets
of the under part of the town.

The soil around the city being very various, is so iniprov-
en by an abundant supply of manure, as to produce heavy
crops of every description. Coal, freestone, whinstone,
and clay of excellent quality, are to be found in almost
every direction.

The greater part of the buildings are erected on ground
having a gentle ascent from the river, the ancient part of
the town being separated from the more modern by a con-
siderable acclivity, commencing near the College. The
public park, or green, on the banks of the river, adjoining
the soutli-east side of the town, contains upwards of 108
acres of grass, and 3 miles, 6 furlongs, and 12 poles of
gravel walks. This park is of great use to the inhabitants,
and contributes much to the general appearance of this part
of the town.

Tlie length and breadth of the city is ascertained by two
main stj-eets, which cross each other nearly at right angles.
The principal street, running nearly east and west, bears
the several iiames of Westergate, Argyle Street, Trongate,
and Gallowgaie, and is one mile and a half, one furlong, fif-
teen poles, and two yards long ; 83 feet broad at King
Street, and 77 feel at Queen Street. The street which
runs south and north takes the names of the Saltmarket,
High Street, Kirk Street, and Castle Street, and is three-
fourths of a mile, thirty-four poles, and three yards long; 54
feet wide at Bell Street, and 47 feet at George's Street. The
greater part ol the streets are 60 feet wide ; the average
width is between 56 and 57 feet. They are all causewayed
with very durable whinstones, and skirted with hewn stone
pavements of various breadths, conformable to the police
act. Common sewers, large enough to admit persons to
clean them, extending four miles, seven furlongs, and ten
poles, are formed in the streets.

Of the three squares in the city, St Andrew's, St Enoch's,
and St George's, the latter is the most spacious : the cen-
tre of it is reserved for an equestrian statue of his Majesty.
Public buildings, and the tenements frontijig streets, are
built with hewn stone, and covered with slates. The

greater part of the private buildings, particularly in the
ancient part of the town, arc built in what is called flats ;
by wliicli two or more faniilies are accommodated under
the samcrouf. In the more modern part, however, the te-
neufciits are so formed, that one family possesses the whole.

The building ground here is not disposed of by the lineal
foot of front, as is the case in the other great towns in the
island ; it is sold or feued by square measure. A yard of
nine s(iuare feet will bring from one to eighteen guineas,
according to the situation. The general rate of ground,
however, for dwellir.g houses fronlir.g a street, not in a very
centrical situation for business, is from two to four guineas
per yard.

Since the erection of the village of Glasgow into a burgh,
in 1180, its constitution has undergone several alterations.
In 1268, it appears that the town was governed by a pro-
vost and bailies, and that the coj poration was duly organ-
ised. In 1636, a royal charter was obtained, appointing a
water-bailie, and empowering him to exercise a maritime,
civil, and criminal jurisdiction, from the bridge to the
Clough, at the mouth of the river, 26 miles below the
town.

By the constitution of the burgh, three distinct bodies
are recognised, viz. the magistrates and town council, and
the merchants and trades houses. The set, or constitution,
having undergone some slight alterations by the conven-
tion of royal burghs in 1801, is now declared to be as fol-
lows : The affairs of the burgh shall be governed by a
provost, and three bailies of the merchant rank, and two
bailies of the trades rank; twelve councillors of the
merchant, and eleven of the trades rank; a master
of works, who must be of the merchant rank; and a trea-
surer of the merchant and trades rank alternately. These
two officers are councillors ex- rijjicio. The ofKces of the
Gorbals bailie, and the bailie and depute bailie of the river,
do not add to the number of councillors, and, like the trea-
surer, arc chosen from each of the ranks alternately. The
dean of guild and convener of the trades' house, are coun-
cillors ex officio during the first year they are iii office, af-
ter which they must be elected ordinary councillors. The
lord provost, (who from courtesy is styled honourable) and
the five bailies are charged with the executive, while the
magistrates and council conduct the other public affairs of
the community.

The provost, two senior merchant baiiies, the senior
trades bailie, the dean of guild, and tlie convener, are jus-
tices of the peace for the county ; the junior merchant and
trades bailies exercise similar powers within the burgh.
In 1720, the lord provost first began to wear a velvet court
dress; and in 1767, the provost and bailies, magistrates,
dean of guild, and convener, first began to wear gold
chains ; the bailies of the river and barony of Gorbals have
also latterly worn gold chains. It is to be regretted, that
the funds of this respectable corporation are not in a situa-
tion to warrant its managers to appropriate a sum to sup-
port the dignity of the chief magistrate, without affecting
the progress of public injprovements, which have been
carried on for a number of years past with a spiiit which
does honour to the managers of the city. This burgh, of
itself, does not return any representative to Parliament.
The magistrates and council of the burglis of Glasgow,
Rutherglen, Dumbarton, and Renfrew, elect one member
among them : I'.i the event of equality, each burgh takes
the casting vote in rotation. Although the pojiulutioii of
either of these conjoined burghs do not exceed one-forti-
eth part of Glasgow, they are equal in their political
franchises.

The revenue of the burgh arises from various sources,
but chiefly from what is called the common good. The

GLASGOW.

745

following may be considered as tlie most productive, viz.
an impost of two pennies Scots on the Scots pint of all ale
or beer, brewed or sold willun the city. This impost, which
was first laid on in 1693, exlcndetl only over the biirp;h, has
since been made to conipri-hend the barony of Gorbals, and
the town of Port Glasgow. (For the liislory of these sec
Lanarkshirk and Pout Gtasffom ) Ladles and mnlters,
these are certain dues paid on grain, meal, and IVuit, See.
brought into tlic bui-gli ; dues on cattle killed within the
burgh; dues from tlie public washing house and tron;
rents of markets, church scats, houses, mills, and mill lands,
burgess entries, feus of land, and ground annuals, Sec.
amounting in whole, in the year ending 5lstDecemberl8 13,
to 13,604A, 11.9. 8(/. The following may be considered as
the particulars of the expenditure, viz. burgh assessment,
criminal prosecutions, alimenting criminal prisoners, gen-
eral cxpence of the prison and bridewell, expence of
church and civil establishment, ministers stipends and ofli-
cers salaries, police etsablisliment, repairs of heritable pro-
perty, and genera! improvements; the amount of all which,
for some years past, has exceeded the revenue. This ex-
cess may be accounted for, by the extension of public im-
provements of late years, which have necessarily required
an anticipation of the funds.

Exclusive of the above, which inay be considered as the
revenue and expenditure /irofier of the community, the ma-
gistrates and council are entrusted, in whole or in part,
■with the administration of the following funds, the parti-
culars being elsewhere narrated:

Navigation of the river Clyde ;

Assessment for the maintenance of the poor;

Statute labour conversion fund;

Pontage of the bridges ; and

Police establishment.

It appears from ancient records, that those persons who
bought and sold merchandise of any description in this
burgh, considered themselves as a distinct class of citizens
from those who manufactured the articles, and the claim
of precedence often gave rise to dissensions among the
burgesses. In the year 1604, when both paities became
anxious for an amicable adjustment of their political dif-
ferences, they submitted their claims to the final decision
of Sir George Elphinstone, who was then Provost, and to
two of the ministers of the city. The arbiters, to use their
own words, declare, that after great pains, long travailing,
and mature deliberation, they, on the 6th of February 1605,
pronounced their decreet, containing fifty-four articles,
which is the letter of guildry. This decreet was imme-
diately confirmed by the magistrates and council, and in
1612 by an act of parliament, and has been, after a few
slight alterations, acted upon ever since. By the letter of
guildry, the Dean of Guild is president of his house, and
from couitesy is stiled Lord Dean of Guild. He takes
precedence of the convener of the trades house in all
places, and of the provost and bailies at every meeting of
his house.

The merchants house consists of all the merchant bur-
gesses who have matriculated, that is, who have paid a
fee, now fixed at ten guineas, to the funds of the house.
These members, however, have only the privilege of at-
tending one meeting in the course of the year, and of
electing 24 members of the Dean of Guild's council,
which is made up as follows: the Dean names 12 mem-
bers, who may be either foreign or home traders; he then
puts the whole of the remanent members into 24 lists or
leets, whereof 12 must be foreign, and 12 home traders.
The qualified members, at the meeting, elect one person
from each leet, who, together with the dean, the provost,
three merchant baiiies, the collector, and the 12 persons

Vol. IX. Part II.

nominated by the dean, compose the council, to whom the
administration of the whole affairs of the house is entrust-
ed throughout the year. The funds of this public budy
arise chielly from rents, feus, ground annuals, interest,
matriculation, and burgess entry money, donations, and
mortifications.

The convener is president of the trades house, and takes
precedence of the trades bailies, at all meetings of the
house. The membeis consist of the present and late con-
vener, two trades bailies, the present and late collector, the
present and late deacons of the 14 incorporations, and 26
assistants, nominated as follows: the deacons of the ham-
mermen, tailors, cordincrs, and mailmen, nominate four of
the mcn)bcrs of their incorporations ; the weavers two;
the bakers, skinners, wrights, coojxrs, fleshcrs, masons,
gardeners, and barbers, one each; the dyers do not nomi-
nate any. These members constitute the trades house,
and to them its whole civil and political concerns are en-
trusted.

The affairs of finance are placed under the exclusive
management of the convener and deacons, and extraordi-
nary members of the house; the latter are the trades bai-
lies, collector, and members who have passed the chair, or
have been at any time in the magistracy. The funds of
this public body, like the merchants house, arise chiefly
from rents, gromid annuals, and feus from the lands of
trades-town, interest, burgess entries, donations and mor-
tifications.

. A circuit court of justiciary, (anciently termed Justice
in Ayre,) is held here in the months of April and Septem-
ber yearly, wherein all criminal cases, high treason except-
ed, are tried by a jury of 15 persons. The jurisdiction of
the circuit extends over the counties of Lanark, Renfrew,
and Dumbarton. It has been customary for two of the
judges to be on this circuit, attended by the sheriffs of the
three counties, and the Lord Provost and magistrates of
the burgh. Formerly it was necessary for the jury to re-
tire from the court, and make up a written verdict. In
1814, an act of parliament was passed, empowering juries,
when they were unanimous as to the verdict, to return it,
viva voce-, without leaving the box. Forty-five jurymen
are summoned on each circuit, whereof 25 are from La-
narkshire, and 10 from each of the other two counties.
This court also gives judgment in appeals from inferior
courts, in civil matters, where the sum at issue is not
under 15/. An elegant hall, or court room, was fitted up
in tiie public offices in 1810, for the accommodation of
this court, which contains more than 300 persons.

The sheriff's court has jurisdiction in civil as well as in
criminal matters within the county The civil court, for
ordinary procedure, is held every Wednesday, at eleven
o'clock, in the circuit court room, during the sitting of the
coui t of session ; and during the vacancy, the court is held
at such intervals as the judge may think expedient. In
cases of a summary nature, there is access to him every
lawful day. All crimes competent to be tried before the
sheriff, which infer capital or corporeal punishment, or ba-
nishment from the county, must be tried by a jury of 15
persons ; the forms of the justiciary court being strictly
adhered to, with this difference, that, in all cases, the ob-
jections to witnesses and other steps of procedure must be
taken down in writing. No capital sentence can be inflict-
ed in less than 40 days after the passing of the sentence,
nor corporeal punishment in less than 12 days. The sen-
tences of this court, whether of a civil or criminal n.iture,
are, like other inferior courts, subject to the revisal of the
supreme courts.

The commissariat court was fonnerly the bishop's court.
The jurisdiction of the commissariat of Glasgow, Hamil-

5 B

746

GLA^SGOV.

ton and Campsic, is very extensive, coinijichending a great
part of the counties of Lanai-it, Renfrew, Stirling, Dumbar-
ton, and Air. It takes cognizance of all teslawentary
affairs, and matters of scandal. Civil actions for debt may
also be tried in it, to the extent of 40 poir.ids Scots. The
term of this court is similar to the sheriff's, and is held in
the same hall on Thursdays at 1 I o'clock ; in former times,
it was held in the consistory house, adjoining the cathedral.
The town court is the principal civil court of the burgh.
It seems to have been instituted about the same time that
the burgh was erected. The provost and bailies are the
iudgi^s. The procedure is conducted in writing, by procu-
rators, undi-r the superintendance of a legal assessor, who
is a member of the faculty of advocates. In ordinary cases,
the court is held in the burgh-hall every Friday at 1 1
o'clock during the session, and at least once a month dur-
ing the vacation of the Court of Session ; but in cases
which require extraordinary dispatch, the court is open
every lawful day. Its jurisdiction is limited to ihe burgh,
and is competent to decide questions of personal obliga-
tion to pay or perform to any extent ; no claim, however,
can be enforced in this court, unless it exceeds 3Qa. The
court is also competent to judge in questions of property,
pledge, hypothec and retension, of exclusive privilege of
count and reckoning, service of heirs, Stc.

The inferior civil court, commonly called the conscience
court, from the matters at issue being often left to the oath
of parties, was instituted for the determination of small
civil claims, not below five, nor exceeding forty shillings.
Each of the magistrates, in rotation, officiates as judge ;
an assessor attends, to give legal advice, if it should be
found necessary, and to minute the verbal debate, procura-
tors not being admitted. This court is held in the hall of
the town court every Monday at 1 1 o'clock.

The daily court is held every lawful day at two o'clock,
in the burgh court hall. The bailies officiate in rotation,
without the assistance of assessors; the procedure is not
taken down in writing, no claim being competent above
ten shillings.

In the criminal court of the burgh, as is the case in the
principal civil court, the magistrates officiate as judges;
the procedure is conducted in writing, under the superin-
tendance of legal assessors ; and is held every lawful day
in the police office at 10 o'clock, and thereafter in the
clerk's chamber ot 12 o'clock. This court grants war-
rants for the arrest and commitment of offenders of every
description, so that they may be brought to trial either in
the supreme court of justiciary, or in this court. In par-
ticular, it takes cognizance of those inferior offences, which,
by the law of Scotland, do not require a trial by jury, to
the effect of inflicting punishment by fine, banishment from
the burgh, exposure to public contempt, imprisonment in
jail, solitary confinement in bridewell, subjection to hard
labour, or even to the effect of inflicting a slight corpo-
real punishment.

The dean of guild court takes cognisance of all mat-
ters within the burgh, wherein the heritable rights of the
citizens are involved. It consists of the dean of guild,
who is president, four members from the trades-house, and
four from the merchants-house, chosen annually, who are
termed the dean of Guild's Brethren. This court deter-
mines in all matters of dispute between conterminous pro-
prietors, encroachments on the streets, insufficiency of
buildmgs, and the adjustment of weights and measures,
&c. The procedure is conducted in writing by procura-
tors, under the superintendance of a legal assessor. This
court is held on Thursdays at 1 1 o'clock in the burgh-hall.
The trades rank, conformable to ancient usage, sits on the
light of the president.

The judges in this court are those gentlemen in the
commission of the peace, who act for the under ward of
Lanarkshire ; the jurisdiction being confined to that dis-
trict. The court meets in the circuit court hall, on the
first Monday of every month, at 11 o'clock A. M. two
justices forming a quorum. They decide in all matters
of debt, which do not exceed five pounds ; and determine
on fines and penalties to any amount that may have been
incurred in consequence of illegal traffic, infringement on
the game laws, &c. in determining disputes between mas-
ter and servant, whether as to aliment or rate of wages.
Procurators are not admitted in this court, nor is the pro-
cedure taken down in writing.

The Cathedral or High Church, is perhaps the most
splendid edifice, and entire specimen of our ancient ar-
chitecture, that is in Scotland. It was founded, as has
been before mentioned, in the year 1 123, by John Achaiusj
Bishop of Glasgow, and was dedicated to St Mungo, or
Kentigern, during the reign of David I.

This venerable pile is placed on the west bank of the
Molindinar Burn, on an elevated part of the north quarter
of the town, declining considerably to the eastward ; and is
seen at a very great distance in almost every direction, the
floor of the choir being 104 feet above the level of the
river at the foot of Saltmarket street, at low water mark.

Although we have not been able to ascertain the name
of the architect from any record or inscription on the
building, it seems to have been John Murdo, from an in-
scription on Melrose Abbey, of the date 1146. It appears,
that he intended the cathedral to assume the form of a
cross, from the circumstance of his having formed the
south transept; although, for reasons not known to us, that
part of the building has been carried no higher than the
first tier of arches. The greatest internal length of the
cathedral from east to west is 319 feet, the breadth 63 feet;
the height of the choir 90 feet; and of the nave 83 feet.
The building is 1090 feet in circumference, measuring
round the walls and abutments. The edifice is supported
by 147 pillars, and is lighted by 157 windows of various di-
mensions, many of which are of exquisite workmanship.

The south and north fronts are divided into compart-
ments by square projections, which display two tier of
pointed windows with various decorations. The first or
undermost range having completed its ornaments, the wall
terminates in a battlement, from which the lower roof
springs to meet the inner wall, raised so high above this
roof as to form space for the second range of windows ;
this wall then terminates in a battlement similar to the
under one, and receives the main roof, which is covered
with lead. The succession of windows on the right and
left of the transept being interrupted, windows have been
formed under the great tower, on each side of the build-
ing, 40 feet by 20 feet, divided by mullions and tracery of
curious workmanship. About the centre of the building,
a square tower rises nearly 30 feet above the roof, sup-
ported by four massy pillars, each 29 feet 6 inches in cir-
cumference ; from this rises a tapering octangular spire,
with diminishing battlements. The spaces between the
battlements are enlivened by pointed windows, and relieved
by mouldings and small spires, the whole terminating in
a ball and weather-cock at the height of 225 feet above the
floor of the choir. Another square tower, somewhat less
ornamented, rises on the west end of the church to a level
with the first battlement of the tower above described, and
is surmounted with a pyramidal roof covered with lead,
and terminated by a ball and vane : this tower contains the
bell and clock. The groined arches which support the
stone floor of this tower are of singular workmanship, the
middle part of the floor being finished with a circular

GLASGOW.

747

opening, so large as to admit of a stair going up tiirough
it. Prior to the Reformation, and when tliC rites ot the
Roman Catholic religion were performed in tlie cathedral,
the grand entrance was by the west end of the building, 17
feet higli and 1 1 feet wide, surmounted l)y a great window.
These openings are formed with beautiful mouldings, ter-
minating in pointed arches. Tlie space which is now oc-
cupied as the outer High Cliurrh, constituted part of the
choir, so that this department of the cathedral extended
152 feet, from the west end of the building to the four
steps leading up to the organ gallery and screen of the
nave, which was ornamented by a large window and figures
of curious workmanship. The nave was what is now used
as the inner High Church ; the space behind contained the
altar: the arched roof of this part of the building is sup-
ported by five massy pillars, over which was a terrace-
walk adjoining the large window, in the east wall of the
nave.

The vestry, on the north side of the altar, forms a cube
of 28 feet : its vaulted ceiling is supported by a pillar 20
feet high. The chapter-house was in the north cross of
the cathedral, and had a communication with the nave.
The consistory house, in which the bishops held their
ecclesiastical courts, projects from the south west corner
of the building, and does not by any means contribute to
the general harmony. This court-room is still occasion-
ally used by the commissary of the district : it is 25 feet
by 23 feet, and is fitted up with a bench and seats, which
evidently bear the marks of antiquity ; the royal arms over
the bench has the letters C R. II. Immediately above the
court-room is a repository for certain official documents
connected with the court. The cemetery is of the same
dimensions, and is placed immediately under the nave, hav-
ing entries by a flii^ht of steps, descending on the right and
left of that which leads up to the nave at the east end of
the choir. The space underneath where the altar stood, is
said to have been a repository for relicts, and a cemetery
for the bishops. The monument of St Mungo is shewn in
this place, in a tolerable state of preservation.

Having thus given a description of the cathedral during
the time the rites of the Roman Catholic religion were per-
formed in it, we have now briefly to enumerate the altera-
tions which took place in the buildings when the reformed
religion was established. Before entering on this, how-
ever, it may be proper to inform our readers, that in 1579,
when the fury of fanaticism had nearly reached its height,
and while it was thought meritorious to destroy every
edifice which had been consecrated for the service of the
Roman Catholic religion, the magistrates, at the instiga-
tion of certain clerical and lay zealots, determined to raze
the cathedral to the ground, and for this purpose had en-
gaged a numerous band of workmen to pull down the
stately fabric. When these workmen were assembled by
beat of drum, and with their unhallowed hands were about
to pull down the carved work, the craftsmen of the city, to
their immortal honour, assembled, and swore, that the first
man who should pull down one stone of the building should
be buried under it ; nor would they retire, till they had an
assurance from the magistrates that no damage should be
done to the fabric. Having thus weathered the storm, the
cathedral was altered to contain three places of worship,
the choir was divided into two by a stone partition, the
west division being formed into a place of worship, under
the name of the Outer High Church. The nave of the
cathedral was fitted up, and termed the Inner High Church ;
and the cemetery, although low in the ceiling, when com-
pared with the others, was fitted up into a place of wor-
ship for the barony, or Landward parish. In the internal
fcrmation of these places of worship, it does not appear

that much attention had been paid to tasic or ornament ; on
the contrary, when we observe the great windows and
doors, and other admirable decorations then rudely block-
ed up, we are led to believe, (hat our early reformers dis-
liked every appearance of show or grandeur in their places
of worship.

When it was resolved to fit up the interior of what is
called the Inner High Church, in a style which might in
some degree correspond with the magnificent external
architecture of the cathedral, the magistrates entrusted the
arrangements to the late Mr William Stark.

At tliat time, the entrance from the choir was by small
side doors: the centre of the church was entirely filled
with pews ; the galleries were deep and heavy ; the pulpit
placed on one side ; and the great east window built with
stone. The appearance is now comphtely changed : the
entrance is in the centre of the west end ; a passage leads
from it to the pulpit near the other extremity. The gal-
leries, which were indispensable for accommodation, arc
placed behind the axis of the pillars of the church ; and
the east window is opened, and filled with stained glass.

In repairing the capitals of the pillars, the work is exe-
cuted so much in the manner of the old carving, that the
difference cannot be perceived ; and in the small vestibule,
the fronts of the galleries, the pulpit, and indeed all the
modern parts, the Gothic style is perfectly preserved. The
whole is painted of a grey colour, which appears suffi-
ciently neat and clean, without the least glare or tawdri-
ness ; and the sober imposing effect of the church is worthy
the memory of the architect, who, by the pure and classical
taste of his public buildings, has done so much to ornament
this city.

About the same time leave was given to a society of
sacred music to erect an organ in what is commonly called
the choir ; and this was executed by Mr David Hamilton,
architect, in a manner creditable to his taste.

In 1811, the seats in the outer High Church were com-
pletely removed, and the whole of the interior renewed in
a manner well suited to the magnificence of the place; the
pulpit has been removed from the south side to the west
end of the church ; and in 1812, the great western window,
immediately over the original grand entrance, was opened,
at an expence upwards of 500/. This window is 44 feet 6
inches high by 23 feet 6 inches wide.

Tlie heritors of the Barony parish, taking into conside-
ration the ruinous condition of the seating of their church,
and finding the space not large enough for the increased
population of the parish, agreed to abandon it as a place of
worship. Accordingly, in the year 1801, the seats were
removed, and it was again converted into a burying-place,
such as it had originally been. This repository for the
dead contains 65 pillai-s, with capitals of curious work-
manship, supporting the groined arches, underneath the
stone floor of the Inner High Church ; the whole is ren-
dered visible by a glimmering light passing through small
apertures retained from the former windows. When a
stranger enters this place and examines the monuments of
art, and those erected to the memory of departed worth,
he is insensibly struck with veneration and awe.

The entrance to the choir is now by the south front. It
is 74 feet 6 inches long, 63 feet wide, and 90 feet high, and
has a grand imposing effect, the pillars being more than
80, and the windows 40 feet high.

The south transept has long been used as a burying-
place for the clergymen of the city : the style and execu-
tion of the work in this aisle is much admired. Imme-
diately over this, a flower garden was placed ; but in 1812,
it was removed, and a stone pavement, concealed by a
parapet, substituted in its place. The north transept, for-

5 B

748

GLASGOW.

inerly the Chapter House, has been fitted up as a private
burying-place.

The Bishop's Palace or Castle, erected in 1430, stood
somewhat to the south-west of the cathedral, nearly in
front of where the Royal Infirmary now stands : it was in-
closed with a strong; wall of hewn stone by Arclibishop
Beaton : the ruins of the castle were removed in 1789, to
make way lor tlK-^irection of the Infirmary.

Ttie College church is situated on the east side of the
Higli Street, a little below the College. It is a plain build-
ing, partaking of die Gothic, with a small steeple in front,
containing a clock and bell. It was built in 1699, on the
site ol a venerable (Jolliic pile, termed the chuich of the
Black Friars, wiiicli "as unfortunately destroyed in 1666
during a violent storm. At the Rt formation this churcfi
was made over to the College, but was some time alter-
wardb conveyed to the community under certain restric-
tions.

The Tron church, situated on the south side of the
Trongate, a little to the eastward of King Street, was found-
ed and endowed by tiie community in 1484, and dedicated
to the Virgin Mary. Prior to the Reformation, a number
of chaplainries were founded in it, by pious and wealthy
citizens. In the year 1592, this place of worship under-
went a thorough repair; and on the 8th February 1793, it
was destroyed by fire. The steeple belonging to this
church, which is of mixed ancient architecture, projects
into the Trongate, and forms a striking feature in that
street: it was built in 1637, is 126 feet high, and has a
•clock and two bells in it. The under part of the steeple
being formerly used as a tron, gave to it its present name.
In 1794, this church was rebuilt on the site of the old one,
from designs by Mr James Adam. It is a plain modern
building, surmounted by a spacious cupola.

The north-west church, situated in Canon Street, front-
ing Candleriggs Street, was erected by the community in
1721. Its form is oblong, lying east and west, with a trans-
verse aisle. A steeple 140 feet high, having a clock and
bell in it, is placed at the south front of the church. The
steeple displays less taste than might have been expected
from the period in which it was built.

St Andrew's church is situated in the centre of St An-
drew's Square. It was founded in 1739, but not finished
till 1756. It is nearly a copy of St Martin's in the Fields,
Westminster, and is allowed to be as complete a speci-
men of the composite order of architecture as is to be
found in Scotland. On the west front a grand portico is
formed ; the arms of the city are displayed in the pedi-
ment in basso relievo ; a lofty spire, with a clock and bell
in it, is placed at this front of the building : its form and
proportions, however, are by no means in unison with the
church.

St Enoch's church, situated on the south side of St
Enoch's Square, fronting Buchanan Street, and founded
in 1780, is of an oblong form ; a portico of the Doric order,
is placed at the north end ; a lofty and handsome steeple,
having a bell and clock in it, is formed at that end of the
church.

The Wynd chuich, which had been built by a party of
Presbyterians during the time of Episcopacy in 1687, was
found to be unsuitable for the congregation of the venera-
ble Dr Porteous. Accordingly, in 1807, the presbytery,
with concurrence of the magistrates, translated the congre-
gation to St George's church, erected on the west side of
Buchanan Street, fronting George's Street.

Few things are more difficult than to place a steeple or
spire on a modern building, without destroying its effect.
A Gothic church is usually proportioned in elevation to
its tower; but modern churches, built more for conve-

nience than grandeur, arc for the most part so low in their
walls, that the spiie must cither be insignificant in its own
dimensions, or appear to crush the building to which it is
merely attached, but with which it never seems to be con-
nected. Aware of this, Mr Stark, who gave the plan of
this edifice, resolved that the tower should be the princi-
pal object of attention, to which the rest of the facade
might be considered as an accompaniment. In this view,
he was desirous of projecting it from the front of the
church, over the side pavement of the street ; but this be-
ing thought objectionable, the idea was abandoned, and the
tower carried back to the line of the front.

The tower itself, both in its general form, and in the
variety as well as the proportion of its parts, is uncom-
monly beautiful ; and probably its termination, had the
colossal statues intended by the architect been placed on
its angles, would have been equally rich and graceful ; but
many difficulties arose in getting well composed statues
for so unusual a situation, without incurring an expence
which the magistrates would have thought unjustifiable.
Mr Stark accordingly agreed, with reluctance, to substi-
tute obelisks, which it must be confessed appear meagre
terminations to the angles of the tower, and scarcely ac-
cord with the beautiful little temple which rises from its
centre.

The place of worship for the Barony, or Landward pa-
rish, in the cathedral, having ;TDecome insufficient for the
purpose, the heritors, in 1798, built a church adjoining,
and in complete view of the cathedral and Royal Infirma-
ry, from a design of Mr Adam's. The architecture is of
a mixed style, varying from the adjoining specimens of
Gothic and Grecian architecture. The outline of the west
front of this church has an imposing effect : it is to be re-
gretted, however, that the execution of the whole of the
exterior is so much inferior to that of the adjoining build-
ings, to which it was intended to assimilate. This exten-
sive parish has chapels of ease, at Shettleston, Calton, and
Anderston.

The Episcopal chapel is situated to the north of the pub-
lic green, and immediately behind St Andrew's Square. It
is a handsome oblong building, erected by subscription in
1751. The altar, orchestra, and organ gallery, are placed
on the east end of the chapel. The whole of the interior
is fitted up with great taste, and the window over the altar
is beautifully ornamented with scriptural devices.

A very magnificent Roman Catholic chapel, in chaste
Gothic, is at present erecting on the north side of West
Clyde Street, from designs by Mr James Gillespie. The
towers and pinnacles, the embrazures, the grand entrance,
and the magnificent window done up with mullions and
tracery, surmounted by a colossal statue of St Andrew on
the principal front, are well calculated to gratify the ad-
mirers of this venerable style of architecture. The but-
tresses, embrazures, and ornaments, of the other fronts,
which are all executed in polished ashlar, hormonize with
the general order. The nave and aisles of the interior are
to be fitted up in strict conformity with the style of the ex-
terior. A valuable organ, now building, is to be placed in
a gallery over the grand entrance, the altar being at the
opposite end of the chapel. This place of worship, which
does great credit to the taste of the architect, is to contain
2200 persoifS, and is calculated to cost about 13,000/. the
gr-eater part of which is to be raised by small weekly con-
tributions, ftom those persons who profess the Roman Ca-
tholic religion in the city and neighbourhood.

Prior to the year 1340, a timber bridge, which had been
thrown across the Clyde somewhere to the west of the
Saltmarket Street, went into decay ; on which William
Rae, bishop of Glasgow, in 1 345, built a stone bridge across

GLASGOW.

749

Ihe Clyde, at the foot of what is now called the Stockwell
Streit, coiiiinunicatiiii^ with the barony ol Goil)als. This
biidi^e, plain, williout even an afl'cctation ol ornament, was
originally constructed with eight arciies. Two of these,
on the north side, were built up, when it became necessary
to narrow the river, and tliereby protect the adjoining
houses from the effects of floods. This bridj^c continued
for more than 300 years, witliout requirinjj(so far as we have
been able to learn) any material repair. In the year 1671,
the southmost arch fell at noon of the day on which Glas-
gow fair is held ; and although the concourse of people
passing and repassing at the time must have been very
great, it is recorded, that no person received injury. This
arch was rebuilt with all convenient speed; and the bridge
received frequent repairs till the year 1777, when an addi-
tion of 10 feet was made to its breadth on the east side, by
which the fabric is strengthened, and the passage rendered
more convenient for carriages. The bridge, as it now
stands, is 415 feet long, by 22 feet wide, within the para-
pets. The pious and public-spirited Lady Lochow is said
to have prevailed on Bishop Rae to allow her to pay the
expence of the centre arch.

In 1768, the foundation of a stone bridge, across the
Clyde, was laid at the foot of Jamaica Street, for the more
easy communication to the coast. It has seven arches, is 500
feet long, and 30 feet broad within the parapets. Its ge-
neral appearance is such, as to combine the idea of strength
■Willi elegant simplicity. The plan was given by Mr Milne,
the architect who designed Blackfriars bridge, London.
The pontage arising from these two bridges, in 1814, was
i.l529 : 5 : 9. which goes to discharge the existing debt,
and keep them in repair.

In the year 1794, the foundation of a stone bridge, to be
thrown across the Clyde at the foot of the Saltmarket
Street, was laid. During the subsequent year the work was
carried on, and so far completed, that the arches were
thrown across, and the parapets nearly finished, when, on
the 18th November, 1795, the lower part of the city was
subjected to an alarming inundation of the river, which at
four o'clock P. M. swept away the northmost arch of the
bridge, and, in two hours afterwards, the whole arches gave
way. This bridge, which was named Hutchison's, consist-
ed of five arches, was 410 feet long, and 26 feet broad with-
in the parapets.

In 1803, a timber bridge, for foot passengers, justly ad-
mired for'the simplicity of its construction and light ap-
pearance, was thrown across the Clyde at the bottom of the
Saltmarket Street, a little eastward of the site of Hutchi-
son's bridge. Its outline is one grand sweep of 340 feet,
having eight supports and breakwaters. The breadth with-
in the parapets, which are formed of upright spars, with
diagonal braces, is seven feel four inches, the expence of
erecting it was l^OO/. An act of Parliament was procur-
ed, authorisuig certain trustees to levy a halfpenny from
every person who passes and repasses the bridge on one
day of Ihe week only. The nett pontage, which, in 1814,
w.^s 8 W. goes to discharge the debt incurred in building the
bridge, and in keeping it in repair. The design was by
Mr Peter Nicholson, architect, author of The Frinci/iles of
Architecture., Carfientry^ isfc.

In 1814, the magistrates and council of the city, and
others interested in Hutchison's town, obtained an act of
Parliament for building abridge across the Clyde, near the
site of the bridge that fell in 1795. They have also pro-
cured designs from Mr John Rcnnie, and are on the eve
of contracting for its immediate erection. The cost is sup-
posed to be from 18 000/. to 19,000/.

The college buildings, and the houses for the accommo-

daiioii of the professors, arc situated on the east side of the
High Street, near the UlacklViars church. They are very
extensive, having a front of 305 feet to the High Street, and
282 feet from east to west. These buildings, and the four
courts, three of wlich form quadrangles, occupy a space
equal to 9556 square yards. The buiklihirs are gcnerullv
three stories higli, of ashlar work, diversified with turrets
and appropriate ornaments. There are three euuaiiccs in
the principal front. The centre gate is ornamented with a
species of demi-rusticated work ; the royal arms in basso
relievo, gilt, are placed over the gate, and consols, sujjport-
iiig a broad balcony, are formed at each side. The entire
of the facade, which has a fine effect, is terminated, on tlic
south, by the principal's house, and, on the north, by that
occupied by the professor of oriental languages. At the
centre of the east side of the west court, a lofiy tower, plain,
witliout any gaudy show ol ornament, rises to a considera-
ble height, and terminates in a ballustrade and semicurvat-
ed roof The eastmost range of buildings, erected more than
200 years ago, having become unfit for the purposes lor
which they were intended, were taken down in 1811, and
a magnificent range, from designs by Mr Peter Nicholson,
erected on their site. The east front is divided into three
compartments, the centre projects, and is ornamented with
chamfered work, supporting four massy Doric columns, with
entablature and pediment ; the receding divisions exhibit a
range of pannelled pilasters, cornice and ballustrade. This
new erection, which is 160 feet long, and fifty feet deep,
contains the anatomical theatre ; the common hall, 73 feet
long ; and rooms for the humanity, Greek, logic, chemis-
tiy, medical, and mathematical classes. The library is a
handsome insulated building; on the south-east extremity,
the faculty hall fronting the High Street is a very spacious
room, handsomely wainscoated. The chapel, in which the
professors and students attend divine service, is fitted up in a
suitable manner. There are some valuable historical pic-
tures, and portraits of eminent literary characters, hung
round the walls of several of the apartments. The adjoin-
ing ground, on the east of the college, commonly called
the college garden, consists of several acres, inclosed by a
high stone wall, laid out in walks and shrubberies, for the
use ot the professors and students : The Macfarlane obser-
vatory is erected near the east end of it.

The town-hall buildings, situated on the north side, and
at the east end of the Trongate Street, were finished in the
year 1636. The basement was originally formed into an
arcade, with a rusticated front ; the uj)per part of the build-
ing displays the complete range of the Ionic order. The town-
hall is fitted up in an elegant manner. The walls are de-
corated with portraits of the kings and queens of Scotland
and Great Britain. Ramsay's Archibald Duke of Argyle,
in his robes as Lord Justice-General, isadmiredasa very va-
luable picture. The bust of his present Majesty is placed over
the mantle-piece ; and the statue of his immortal premier,
William Pitt, by Flaxman, at the east end of the ha?*-. In
1781, a subscription, by way of toiitine, was opened, for
building a coffee-room and hotel, in 107 shares, at 50/.
each. Mr William Hamilton, architect, gave the design,
and displayed great professional skill in throwing the ar-
cade of the town-hall into an extensive piazza, retaining the
upper part of the cross walls of the superior structure. The
cofl'ee-room, on the ground floor, is 74 feet long, of propor-
tional width and height, and is very handsomely fitted up.
There are at present 1 146 annual subscribers to the room,
at 32s. each. It is supplied with Scotch, English, Irish,
and Continental newspapers, magazines, reviews, and other
periodical publications. In this coflee-room strangers are
freely admitted without introduction, and may enjoy all the
privileges of subscribers for four weeks without subscrip.

750

GLA^SGOW.

tion, — a liberality, we believe, not equalled in any of tlie
other great towns in the island.

Prior to 1812, the jail stood contiguous, and at the east
end of the town-hall. Tlie jail, from the increased popu-
lation of the city, having become too small, was taken down
in 1812, and an elegant building substituted in its place;
the upper part being ornamented with turrets and embra-
zures, so as to preserve a similarity to the old tower of the
prison, which is still preserved. This tower, which is 126
feet high, projects on the High Street, and is only remarka-
ble for its terminating in the shape of an imperial crown.
It is furnished with a clock and bell, and a set of musical
chimes, so arranged as to play a separate tune at the end of
every two hours. A skilful musician performs favourite
airs on the musical bells, during Change hours, every law-
ful day, Saturday excepted.

The merchant's hall is situated on the south side of the
Bridge-gate Street, a little to the east of the Stockwell
Street. It was rebuilt in 1659, by Sir Patrick Bell, the
then Dean of Guild ; it is 80 feet long, and of a propor-
tional width and height. Donation and inscription boards
are hung round the walls, containing the names of the
Deans of Guild. The building consists of two stories of
ashlar work, with little decoration, the basement being
fitted up for shops. This building, from its situation and
present condition, is by no means suited to the wealth and
respectability of Glasgow merchants. The steeple, how-
ever, adjoining the south-front of the hall, is considered one
of the handsomest in the city ; it is 1 64 feet high ; after rising
85 feet in the form of a square tower, a ballustrade is form-
ed, within which a tower of smaller dimensions is again
formed, terminating in a ballustrade ; this arrangement be-
ing repeated, a pyramidal spire is terminated by a gilt ball
and ship in full sail.

The buildings of the town hospital, which were erected
from donations and subscriptions of public bodies and in-
dividuals, were so far finished, that the poor were admitted
in 1733. The buildings form a quadrangle, the large court
in the centre being used as airing ground. The principal
front is to Clyde Street ; it consists of a centre and two
projecting wings of three stories. This range contains the
great hall, where the inmates assemble for worship, and
other apartments for the use of the charity. The buildings
on the other sides of the quadrangle are chiefly fitted up
for offices, and the accommodation of sick and fatuous per-
sons, the insane having been removed, in 1814, to the Luna-
tic Asylum.

The royal infirmary is situated in the north quarter of
the city, partly on the site of the archbishop's palace, near
the cathedral. The designs for this building were from
Messrs Robert and James Adam ; and the general form of
it is so imposing as to command universal approbation.
The design partakes of the parallelogram form, with bold
projections at each end, having a pediment in the centre,
suppi^rted by pillars of the Corinthian order, and the royal
arms, in alto relievo, cut in the tympan of the pediment. A
spacious dome, with vertical lights covering the operation
hall, terminates the building, which consists of four stories.
The foundation stone of this edifice was laid in 1792 ; the
interior arrangements are well fitted for the purposes of the
hospital. Although the Infirmary is calculated to contain
150 patients, it has latterly been found inadequate for the
accommodation of increasing applicants ; accordingly the
inanagers are at this time making an addition at the back of
the buildings, which, without injuring the general appear-
ance, will give more than one third additional accommoda-
tion. This addition, which will cost 4000/. has been raised
by special subscription.

The trades- ball buildings, situated on the west side of

Glassford Street, fronting Garthland Street, were erected,
in 1791, from designs Ijy Mr Robert Adam. The front
consists of a centre building, and two wiugs, the former of
two stories, supported by a rusticated basement, with a pro-
jection at its centre, on which there are four Doiic columns,
supporting an entablature. The front is relieved with va-
rious mouldings, ortiamented with griffins in basso relieve,
and terminated in a ballustrade, in the centre of which the
city arms are cut in alto relievo, supported by two female
figures in a recumbent posture. A dome rising through
the roof, terminating in a lantern, gives a happy eflV ct to
the whole. The hall, 70 feet long, 35 feet wide, and 2+ feet
high, exclusive of a magnificent dome, is fitted up with ap-
propriate decorations. Portraits of persons of the trades
rank, who had made donations to the house, and the arms
of the 14 incorporated bodies, are hung round the walls.
Tablets, with the names and designations of the conveners
of the Trades House, from 1605 down to the present day,
are also placed on the walls ; the other parts of the build-
ing are fitted up as committee rooms. Sec. The hall of the
Trades House free school adjoins this edifice, which, for ex-
tent, light, and ventilation, is justly .'dinired. From a re-
mote period, down to the year 1791, the Trades House and
incorporations met in their hall near the cathedral, known
by the name of the Alms House, from their chaplain dis-
tributing alms to decayed out-door members. This building
being found incommodious, and by no means suited to the
increasing respectability of the trades rank, has been appro-
priated to another use.

The assembly rooms, erected in 1796 by a tontine sub-
scription of 20/. shares, are situated on the north side of
Ingram Street. From a rusticated basement story, a bold
projection is formed at the centre of the building, which
supports four Ionic columns, pilastres, and entablature.
Various appropriate ornaments are introduced on the front,
which terminate in a ballustrade. The interior consists of
the assembly-room, card, supper, and retiring rooms, and
apartments for the house-keeper, public kitchen, &c. The
principal room, 80 feet long, 35 feet wide, and 27 feet high,
is finished and fitted up with every requisite, in the most
elegant manner. Mr James Adam gave the design of the
principal or centre building. The wings, which are sepa-
rated from the main building by a colonnade wall, were
built in 1807, from designs by Mr Henry Holland.

In 1788, the giammar school buildings, in Grey Friars
Wynd, were found to be insufficient for the purpose ; ac-
cordingly a new set were erected on the north side of
George's Street in 1789. The front, which has a light
cheerful appearance, consists of three compartments, the
centre receding from the wings, in which large Venetian
windows are formed. The interier is subdivided into a
common hall, 70 feet long, and seven large well-aired
rooms for the accommodation of the classes. At the back of
the building, more than half an acre of ground is enclosed
for the use of the students.

In 1791, the Faculty of physicians and surgeons, finding
that their hall in the Trongate was not sufficiently com-
modious, erected buildings on the east side of St Enoch's
Square. The front consists of two stories ; a rusticated
basement supports a range of pilasters, entablature, and
ballustrade. The interior consists of the faculty-hall, li-
brary, committee-rooms, offices, &c.

In 1795, government erected very spacious barracks on
the north side, and near the east end of the Gallowgate.
Exclusive of the guard-house, suttlery, infirmary, and ma-
gazine, there are three large buildings for the accommoda-
tion of the military : The centre is for officers : it is a hand-
some building, four stories high, having the royal arms in
demi-relief, displayed in the tympan of the pediment. The

GLASGOW.

751

other two buildings, placed at right angles from the centre
one, are for the acconunodation of the soldiers ; they con-
tain 72 apartments, fitted for 14 men each, exclusive of 24
kitchens. The whole is enclosed with a high wall, forming
an extensive parade.

In 1810, the city guardhouse was removed from Candle-
riggs Street to the east side of Montrose-sireet. Its front
is formed with arched compartments, surmounted by a
cornice and blocking. The interior contains ample accom-
modation for the officers and soldiers, and the piazza is suf-
ficiently spacious for the relief.

In 1789, a plain building, 106 feet long, 30 feet wide,
and 6 stories high, was erected on the north side of Duke-
street, for the purposes of a bridt well ; it contains 126 cells,
8 feet by 7 feet, exclusive of a chapel and a large work-
room. On each side of the bridewell, spacious wings are
formed at right angles, which contain the infirmary, public
kitchen, keeper's lodgings, and rooms for raw materials
for the manufactory, &c. The whole is enclosed within a
wall.

The principal beef, mutton, and fish markets, are situa-
ted in King Street. The former occupies a space of 1 12
feet by 67 feel, and the latter 173 feet by 46 feet, subdi-
vided around the area into stalls. The courts are paved
with free stone, and the fronts formed of ashlar work,
with rusticated entries ; the beef-market in Bell Street being
fitted up in a plainer style. The vegetable market is also
done up into stalls, and is so spacious as to occupy the
whole site of the former Wynd Church, having its principal
entry from King Street. The butter, cheese, and poultry
markets, are placed in Montrose Street. The tron, or
weigh-house, is a large building, situated at the east end of
Ingram Street, and is used for the general purposes of a
tron and store-house. Prior to the late erection of markets
in the city of Newcastle, the markets in King Street were
considered the best in the island. Each stall in the fish-
market has a water-pipe in it, and the other markets have
a plentiful supply of water.

The slaughter house, situated a little to the south of the
Bridgegate Street, was erected in 1810, and is the largest
and most commodious in the island : it contains T7 killing
rooms, two cattle-yards and alleys, and accommodation for
the searchers and scavengers: it covers 4736 square yards
of ground, which is all paved with square stones. Water
pipes are placed along the whole of the killing rooms, and
extensive sewers carry off every thing which would be-
come offensive.

The theatre in Dunlop Street being found inconvenient,
and too small for the accommodation of the public, a mag-
nificent one was erected on the weft aide of Queen Street,
in 1804, on the principle of transferable shares, of 25/. each.
Tlie building is 158 feet long, and 70 feet wide, being con-
siderably larger than any of the provincial theatres. On the
east front there are columns of the Ionic order, 30 feet
high, with corresponding entablatures, and appropriate de-
vices. The interior is elegantly fitted up with every suita-
ble convenience, to accommodate ISOO persons, from de-
signs by Ml' David Hamilton. The building and scenery
cost upwards of 18,500/.

The buildings of Hutchison's Hospital being removed
from the Trongate, to make way for Hutchison Street,
the patrons, in 1803, erected a hall and offices in Ingram
Street, suitable for their accommodation. This building,
and the spire of 150 feet high, which rises from the north
front, is a great ornament to this part of the town. The
great hall ani committee rooms are fitted up in an elegant
manner, from designs by Mr David Hamilton.

The citizens of Glasgow were the first to erect a monu-
ment to the memory of the immortal Nelson. Immediate-

ly after the hero's fall, a subscription was opened, and on
the fii'st of AuguM 1806, the foundation of a solid ashlar
obelisk, 142 feet six iin lies high, of chaste proportions, was
laid at the west end of the high green, with great masonic
solemnity : the subscription at that lime amounted to 2075/.
On the 5lh of August 1810, the upper part of the obelisk
was completely shattered, and the greater part of its !,haft
rent during a violent storm of thunder and lightning. It is
very remarkable, that although the ashlars of the upper
part were llirown out of their beds, and so suspended that
a passenger could sec through the obelisk, yet at the pre-
sent moment, after a lapse of five years, they seem to be
still in the same situation.

The Hunterian museum was erected in 1804, and is situa-
ted at the west end of the college garden, in front of the
common hall. This was the first public building erected
by Mr Stark, who must be considered as singularly fortunate,
at the commencement of his professional career, in having
such an opportunity of displaying his talents and his taste.
He was no less fortunate also in being employed by a socie-
ty, which, from full confidence in his abilities, avoided every
interference with his arrangements.

Mr Stark chose the Roman Doric for the portico, as the
gravest and most imposing order that could be employed
in so confined a situation ; and he made its parts as simple
and large as that order could properly admit. Behind the
portico he formed a recess, divided from it by a second row
of columns, like the pronaos of an ancient temple. By this
arrangement securing great depth of shade, without pro-
jecting his columns too far into the narrow court, he pro-
duced a very rich effect in the angular view, and to so small
a portico giving wonderful dignity on a near approach.

The merit of this building, however, is not confined to
the portico ; its general proportion, the simplicity of its
parts, and the elegance of its form, render many views of
it from the garden little, if at all, inferior to that of the prin-
cipal front. The interior, likewise, corresponds in a re-
markable degree with the exterior appearance. There
are, throughout, the same simplicity, the same elegance,
and the same attention to picturesque effect. The saloon
for paintings is particularly beautiful in its form, propor-
tions, and decorations, while it is at the same time well con-
trived for exhibiting to advantage the collection which it
contains. With the exception of the staii-case, which is
too small and loo plain, a man of taste will discover, in this
elegant building, a unity and consistency rarely to be met
with in modern works: no part is neglected, and no part
charged.

The gaol and court houses, situated on the west end of
the Green, were built in 1810. The magistrates having
resolved to erect a new gaol and court house, applied to
several architects, and from their designs, all of which were
too expensive, they made a selection and arrangement ac-
cording to their own ideas. Mr Stark was then desired to
adapt his elevation and court hall to the new design. The
former has been executed exactly from his drawings ; but
in the latter, some deviations were afterwards made by or-
der of the committee. Every consideration pointed out
the Grecian Doric as the proper order for such a building,
and particularly in so open a situation. But architects
have seldom succeeded in adapting this order to a front, in
part of which the columns are to give place to a simple
wall. Either they have reduced the massiveness of the
entablature, on which the magnificence of the order entire-
ly depends, or the cornice, which is admirably proportion-
ed to the immense columns by which it is carried, has ap-
peared heavy and even overwhelming in those parts where
it is deprived of their support. This difficulty Mr Stark,
by the general simplicity of the arrangement, and the size

752

GLASGOW.

of the window dressins^s, has, in as far as possible, over-
come; and though in this design lliere may be somewhat
wanting of that unity and symmetry whicli charm in his
other works, the magnificence of the poitico rivets the at-
tention, and diverts tiie mind, from what may be less per-
fect in the other divisions of the facade.

The portico exhibits very nearly the proportions of the
Parthenon, and may serve to give some idea of that cele-
brated temple, divested indeed of the magnificence it de-
rived from the most exquisite sculpture of ancient limes.
As in the Parthenon, the columns arc placed on colossal
steps, the dignity of which cannot be conceived without
having been seen ; and there is a recess divided from the
portico by a screen of columns, like the pronaos of the tem-
ple, which adds greatly to the richness and grandeur of the
effect. It was subject of regret to the architect, that the
portico could not be projected farther from the side wall of
the building, and llic screen of the pronaos. But such a
projection would have destroyed all affinity between the
centre and the wings, in which porticoes, on account of their
^expense, were inadmissible.

In so flat a situation, it may also be regretted that great-
er elevation could not be given to the building, consistent-
ly with the employment of the Grecian Doric. This defect
would probably, however, have passed unnoticed, had it not
been rendered much more observable by a parapet and
rail, which have been carried along the front since Mr
Stark's death, and which, while they sink the building, con-
ceal the colossal steps on which the grandeur of the porti-
co so much depended. Were this obstruction to the view
removed, there can be no douLt that the want of elevation
in the general form would be far less conspicuous ; though
to have avoided it entirely was perhaps impossible.

A Grecian Doric portico of six columns is necessarily
long in proportion to its height ; and to have shortened the
compartments, by which the centre is connected with the
wings, would have crowded the facade, and destroyed all
affinity among the forms and proportions of its several parts.
In contemplating so magnificent a portico, small defects
pass unnoticed ; and if they could not be remedied without
adopting a less imposing order, the most fastidious taste
will applaud the architect, for having submitted to what
was unavoidable, for the purpose of producing so sublime
an effect.

These buildings contain halls for the several courts, and
ample accommodation for the civil and criminal establish-
ments. The entry to tlic gaol is by the west front. This
department consists of two spacious courts, 74 fire-rooms,
53 cells, and 2 apartments for prisoners under sentence of
death, so coniph-tely cased with iron, that it is not necessa-
ry to subject the criminals to personal irons, as is done in
almost every other jail. There are also a chapel, a mili-
tary guard-house, and apartments for the keeper of the
goal's family. Four cast iron cisterns, calculated to con-
tain 14,776 gallons of water, are placed on the top of the
prisons, from which the several apartments and water-
closets are supplied. Prisoners are received from the
counties of Laiiark, Renfrew, and Dumbarton : Tiiey
amounted in 1814, to 1172 persons, viz. 367 debtors, 525
male criminals, 239 female criminals, and 41 deserters:
The whole expt^nce of these buildings, viz. 34,811/. has
been defrayed from the funds of the corporation.

The foundation-stone of the Lunatic Asylum, situated
between the Royal Infirmary and the Glasgow Observato-
ry, was laid, with great masonic solemnitv, in 1810. Mo-
dern architects seem very generally to have aimed at repu-
tation, rather by the invention than the proportions of their
designs. Little aware of the.dignity arising from the grace-
ful diminution of columns, from inier-columnations rather

narrow than wide, from harmony in the details, and from
congruity in all the parts, in reference to each other and
to the whole, they must be astonished at Palladio's fame,
and unable to comprehend how his buildings, wliicn are
for the most part small in their dimensions, and without any
pretensions to novelty or singularity in their forms, should
so long have charmed the world, and at every repeated
inspection afforded increased delight.

In this respect, more perhaps than any other, Mr Stark
bore a nearer resemblance to an architect of ancient than
of modern times. By constant and respectful study of tlieir
works, he seemed to have imbibed the spirit of the Greeks,
while, by the powers of his genms, he adapted their prin-
ciples to the wants, manners, and opinions of his country-
men. In the lunatic asylum, he had less opportunity than
usual of pleasing, by the proportions of the mouldings, or
the richness of the details; for every costly ornament would
have been improper, and the situation of the building ren-
dered its effect from a distance much more important, than
its beauty on a near approach. Yet, even here, he studied
the details with the utmost care, convinced that the gran-
deur of the general form is never independent of a due pro-
portion in the minuter parts.

On considering the interior arrangements of a lunatic
asylum, it appeared to him that wards, projected diagonal-
ly from a central building, would afford every facility, both
for the superinteiidance and classification of the patients.
Such a form had been little attempted, and never executed
with a pleasing effect. The difficulties presented by it,
Mr Stark has admirably surmounted. By a just propor-
tion of the diagonal wards to the central buildings, by rais-
ing over the latter a circular attic, and crowning the whole
with a noble dome, he has given the asylum a character
of blended elegance and dignity, which perhaps sets it above
all his other designs, and, simple and unadorned as it is,
entitles it to a most eminent place among the works of art.
So noble indeed is this design, that the managers could
scarcely persuade the public, that, on erecting it, an ex-
travagant ^sum of money had not been squandered on exter-
nal decorations. Its effect is now a little injured by the
garden walls, having been raised higher than the architect
intended, and still more by a recent building, which inter-
rupts its finest point of view; but wlierever it is seen, it
must excite feelings of the highest admiration; and even if
in course of time all views of it as a whole should be inter-
cepted by the extension of the town, the dome will always
remain one of the greatest ornaments of the city.

The asylum and airing grounds cover about three acres
and a half. In the distribution, care has been taken to class
the higher and lower ranks of both sexes according to the
frantic, ordinary, or convalescent atate of the disease. The
buildings contain 136 apartments for the use of the patients,
exclusive of those appropriated for the housekeeper, apo-
thecary, superintendant, physician, and committee; and the
whole range ol store-rooms, servants' apartments, kitchens,
baths, &c. Each class of patients has separate entries to
the subdivided airing grounds, which are Iviid out in gravel
walks, flower-plots, and shrubberies. The eating-rooms,
parlours, and bed-rooms, for the higher ranks of patients,
are spacious and genteelly furnished : the close rooms for
that class arc 1 1 feet 6 inches long, 8 feet wide, and 10 feet
6 inches high ; and for the paupers, 11 feet 6 inches long,
6 feet 6 inches wide, and 10 feet 6 inches high ; each ward
having a gallery 70 feet long by 7 feet 6 inches wide, for
exercise in bad weather. The several apartments of the
asylum are rendered comfortable by the introduction of ra-
refied air, generated in the sunk story, and communicated
by concealed flues.

In IS 10, the foundation stone of the Glasgow Observato-

GLASGOW.

'53

ry was laid on the south side of Garnet Hill, situated a lit-
tle to the north-west of George's Square. The funds for
this institution were raised by subscription of 20/., trans-
ferable shares. The building is divided into three com-
partments : the first contains the instruments for scientific
observations ; the second those for popular observations ;
the third is fitted up for the accommodation of the subscri-
bers, where they have the use of astronomical instruments,
and treatises connected with the science.

In the Glasgow observatory, there are a great variety of
valuable astronomical and meteorological instruments. The
most remarkable are, a fourteen and a ten feet telescope
by Herschel; a mural, azimuth, and altitude circle, by
Troughton ; a sidereal and mean time clock by Hardy ;
and a chronometer by Arnold.

The Lyceum is situated on the east side of South Albi-
on Street. The saloon is 54 by 33 feet, and the adjoining
library 33 by 22 feet, the whole being elegantly fitted up.
The saloon is amply supplied wiili new spjpci a ami periodi-
cal publications ; and the library is stored with a well-
chosen collection of books. Strangei's are not admitted to
the Lyceum, without being introduced by a subscriber.

The riding-school, which was erected by subscription, is
situated on the west side of York Street. It contains two
circles of 40 feet each, stables, and a gallery for spectators.

The buildings for Anderson's institution are situated on
the west side of John Street. The Ashlar front is relieved
with mouldings, terminating in a ballustrade and pediment:
the roof, being formed into a dome, has a very fine effect.
The great hall is of a spherical form, and seated for. 500
persons. The library, laboratory, committee, and appara-
tus apartments, are fitted up with every convenience.

The post office, situated on the east side of South Albi-
on Street, has an Ashlar front, relieved in the centre, and
terminating in a pediment. At one end of the building
there is a covered way, and at the other a spacious lobby,
for the accommodation of the public. A range of windows
are so placed in the lobby, that persons having boxes in the
office, can see if they have letters before the delivery com-
mences.

The Magdalene Asylum for the reception of females,
■who are desirous to return to the paths of virtue, is situa-
ted a little to the east of the Lunatic Asylum : It was erect-
ed in 1812, and is supported by voluntary contribution.
The building consists of three stories: the front is divided
into three compartments, the end ones terminating in pedi-
ments. This establishment is completed with every suita-
ble accommodation, for the matron, the committee, and 34
penitents. The chapel, exclusive of the gallery, contains
150 persons. The managers, being aware that the objects
of this institution could not be obtained amid the bustle of
active life, have inclosed above an acre of ground by a high
wall, within which all the buildings for industry and accom-
modation are placed. As washing and dressing clothes for
families form a prominent part of the economy of this es-
tablishment, the inclosed ground, which is laid down in
grass, is well adapted for bleaching, being supplied with
pipes from the water companies.

The buildings for the Lock Hospital, situated on the
south side of the Rotten-row, are plain, and so completely
inclosed, that the patients can only see into the spacious
court-yards. Convenient apartments are fitted up for the
committee, the housekeeper, and the surgeon.

The public institutions and benefit societies which are
established in this city, for the relief of the necessitous,
are so various and complicated in their nature, that we are
under the necessity of briefiy mentioning a few of the prin-
cipal ones, with the sums expended in the year ending
December 1814.

Vol. IX. Part II.

The merchants and trades houses, granted annuities to
decayed members or their families to the amount of 1620/.
exclusive of a number of bursaries and apprentice fees,
which are placed at their disposal. The 1 4 incorporations,
and the Faculties of Physicians and Surgeons, and Procu-
rators, gave to their poor 3800/., exclusive of annuities to
widows. Hutchison's and St Nicholas hospital, distributed
to out-door pensioners 1910/. The sum raised for the main-
tenance of the Town's Hospital is 10,273/. The ordinary
expence of the Royal Infirmary is 3200/., and that of the
general session 2832/. These sums, and what are annually
expended for the purposes of the Highland and Humane
Societies, Lunatic and Magdalene Asylums, the Lock
Hospital, Buchanan and Graham's societies, and those in-
stitutions which have for their object the distributioti of the
scriptures, the education of youth, or the support of old
age, amounts to upwards of 35,000/. per annum, exclusive
of private charities, which are very great. The writer of
this article had a recent opportunity of receiving these par-
ticulars from the respective secretaries.

On the breaking out of the war with the United States
of America in 1775, the public bodies and spirited indivi-
duals of this city raised a battalion of 1000 men, which
was named the Glasgow regiment. The subscription in a
few days amounted to 10,000/.

In 1795, and at subsequent periods, when government
found it necessary to embody volunteer corps, the citizens
of Glasgow enrolled themselves into the following corps.
The 1st and 2d regiments, the light horse, the sharp-
shooters, the armed association, the trades house battalion,
the Highland regiment, the grocers' corps, and the Ander-
ston and the canal suburbs corps. The greater part of
these regiments found their own uniforms, and served
without pay. When the volunteer system gave place to
the local militia, this city completed, and has at this time,
five regiments in the service of government.

In 1695, the Bank of Scotland was established in Edin-
burgh by charter, with a stock of 100,000/.; and in 1696,
a branch was sent to Glasgow, but recalled in 1697. In
the year 1731, a branch was re-established, and again i-e-
called in 1735. In the year 1749, the first Glasgow bank
was opened, under the firm of the Ship Banking Company.
In 1761, the Thistle Bank commenced Inisiness, and some
time afterwards, the Glasgow Arms, and Glasgow Mer-
chant Banking companies were formed. In 1729, the *
Royal Bank of Scotland was constituted by charter, a
braiich of which was established here in 1783. And in
1809, a company commenced business under the firm of
the Glasgow Banking Company.

Exclusive of the above, which are all carrying on busi-
ness to a very considerable extent, (excepting the Glasgow
Arms, aqd Merchant Bank companies, which have retired,)
bi-anches from the following banks have been established,
viz. Bank of Scotland, British Linen Company, Paisley and
Paisley Union, Greenock, Renfrewshire, Commercial Bank
of Scotland, Aberdeen, Air, Stirling, Falkirk, Leith, Perth,
Kilmarnock, Fife, and Dundee, Sec.

In 1815, a provident or savings bank was established here
for the benefit of the lower orders of the community, where-
in deposits of one shilling and upwards are received, bear-
ing interest at the rate of four per cent, when the sur.! shall
amount to 12s. 6d. and have lain one month in the bank.
When a contributor's deposit amounts to 10/., it is transfer-
red in his or her name to any bank they may desire, and
the receipt delivered to them, and they may again pay in
their savings, and draw out all, or any part of them, in sums
of not less than six shillings. This institution is placed
under the management of a governor, deputy-governor,
and 28 directors, who all act gratuitously. The necessary

5 C

754

GLASGOW.

charges are defrayed fiom a subscription fund of upwards
of 7,000/., and from one per cent, on llie deposits, Ihu Royal
Bank generously allowing the provident bank five per cent,
for money lodged witli them, while the contribulois only
receive four per cent. Allhougli it is little more than four
months since the bank commenced busiixss, t'.icre have
been 785 accounts opened During tlie first three months
there were 590 accounts, amounting in wholeto2407t :9 : 6,
of which Royal Uuuk receipts for 730/. were given out to
contributors, I55i>/ : 13 : 3 retained in the Royal Hank at
the credit of the Provident Bank, and the residue repaid.

The Glasgow friendly fire insurance company having
been on the decline fur a number of years past was dis-
solved in 1805. In 1803, a company was foi-med under the
designation of ihe Glasgow Fire insurance Company, with
a capital of 100 ouo/. divided into 400 shares. This con-
cern, not answering the expcctaiion of the proprietors, was
given up in favour of the Phnpnix offire in 1811. Although
there is now no fire insurance office belonging to the town,
there are no less than 22 branches of the Kondon and pro-
vincial offices established in it. It is worthy of remark,
thai although the local offices above alluded to have not
succeeded, that the annual increase of duty in four years,
endinj; 1814, paid by 15 of the London offices, amounted
to 61,175/.

In 1735, Mr James Macrae, a citizen of Glasgow, and
late governor of the presidency of Madras, presented to
the town a metallic equestrian statue of King William
III. The statue is placed on a pedestal at the cross, bear-
ing an appropriate inscription, and is inclosed by an iron
rail.

In 1812, a full length statue in marble of that great mi-
nister, who conducted the affairs of Britain during an event-
ful period of 26 years, was erected in the town hall, by
subscriptions from the citizens of Glasgow. This statue,
which is executed in parliamentary robes, from the chissel
of Mr John Flaxman, London, cost upwards of 1300/., and
has the following inscription, Gulielmo Pitt Cix'cs G/as-
g'uenses ficsuerunt, A. D. MDCCCXII.

In 1809, this city lost one of her bravest sons, by the
death of Sir John Moore, who, at the head of the British
army in Spain, fell gloriously in the arms of victory, on
the plains of Corunna, and was buried in the citadel of
that town. When the accounts of his victory and death
reached his native town, a subscription, amounting to up-
wards of 4000/., was immediately completed, and a bronz-
ed pedestrian statue ordered to be erected to his memory
in some conspicuous part of the city, under the direction
of Mr John Flaxman, London.

The university was founded, as before mentioned, in
1450, in virtue of a bu 1 obtained from Pope Nicholas V.
by the solicitation of James II. and William Turnbull,
Bishop of Glasgow. This institution, while in its infancy,
consisted of a chancellor, rector, dean of faculty, a princi-
pal, who taught theology, and three professors of philoso-
phy. At the Reformation, this seminary suffered very ma-
terially ; and it was not till after James VI. had granted a
new charter of erection, and bestowed on it the teinds of
the parish of Govan, that it recovered from the shock
which it had received. In 1617, the teinds of the parishes
of Renfrew and Kilbride were annexed, and ultimately con-
ferred on it. In 1630, the temporalities of the bishopric of
Galloway were added; and in 1670, the tiends of Cadder, of
Old and New r.Ionkland, were conveyed to the college, by
chaiter fiom Charles II. In 1693, after the Revolution, the
sum of 300/. per annum was granted to each of the Scottish
universities, out of the property of the abolished bisho-
prics of Scotland; and the better to insure the payment of
this suiTi, this university obtained from the crown a lease

for 19 years of the teinds of the archbishopric, which has
been peiiodically renewed ever since. These teinds, and
the annual returns from heritable property, and donations
received from individuals at various times, constitute the
fund from which the professors' salaries and certain sti-
pends are paid, the college buildings supported, and the
other concerns of the university maintained. From its
erection down to the present time, the number of profes-
sorships have been increased. At present, the establish-
ment consists of a lord chancellor, lord rector, dean of fa-
culty, a reverend principal, a reverend professor of divinity,
professors of church history, oriental languages, natural
philosophy, mathematics, moral philosophy, logic, Greek,
humanity, civil law, medicine, anatomy, practical astrono-
my, and the regius professors of natural history, surgery,
and midwifery. The crown presents to the following
chairs, viz. the principality, church history, civil law, me-
dicine, anatomy, astronomy, natural history, surgery, and
midwifery. The rollefje elects the chancellor, the dean of
faculty, and the professors of divinity, oriental languages,
natural philosophy, mathematics, moral philosophy, logic,
Greek, and humanity. The rector and dean of faculty are
chosen annually. In choosing the former, the mode of
election is materially different from that of the other
office-bearers. He is elected by what is called the Comi-
tia, that is, a court consisting of the office-bearers and pro-
fessors, and all the students who have matriculated, by en-
rolling their names, and stating the place where they were
born, and the name of their father and his designation, &c.
This court consists nearly of 1000 members, is divided
into what is called the four nations, viz. the Glottiana,
Transforthana, Loudoniana, and Rothsaiana. The majority
of the members of each nation constituting one vote, in
case of an equality, the rector has the casting vote. It
has been usual to re-elect the rector for one year only.
The regius professors have no vote in the faculty, except
for the dean; they, however, vote in the Comitia, in com-
mon with the matriculated members.

The college has a number of bursaries in its gift.
Among others, there are ten for Baliol college, on Mr
Snell's mortification, at 70/. each, arising from an estate in
Warwickshire. This distinguished seminary has pro-
duced, at various times, some of the most eminent literary
characters of the age in which they lived. Among others,
may be ranked the names of the celebrated poet and histo-
rian George Buchanan, Archbishop Spottiswood, Principal
Lcechnian, Adam Smith, Hutchison, Reid, Cullen, and
Hunter.

The late celebrated Mr John Anderson, professor of na-
tural philosophy in the university of this city, by his last
will, disponed and conveyed his valuable apparatus, mu-
seum, and library, and his other effects, to 81 trustees,
whereof nine were to be tradesmen, nine agricultuiists,
nine artists, nine manufacturers, nine physicians and sur-
geons, nine lawyers, nine divines, nine natural philoso-
phers, and nine kinsmen or namesakes, for the purposes of
establishing a college in this city, for the arts, medicine,
law and theology. At the professor's decease, his trustees
were incorporated by charier in 1795. Pecuniary and other
considerations have hitherto limited the plan to physical
science, comprehending natural philosophy, chemistry,
materia medica and pharmacy, mathematics, and geogra-
phy. Popular and scientific lectures, from its commence-
ment, were continued to be delivered to both sexes, in this
institution, by Dr Garnet, with great approbation, till in
1799 he received an appointment in the royal institution of
London, which had been formed on the model of this pri-
mary institution. Dr Garnet was succeeded ')y Dr Birk-
beck, who, in addition to the branches taught by his prede-

GLASGOW.

755

cessor, introduced a familiar system of philosophical and
iTiechanical inforiiiulioii, tu 3UU operative mechanics, free
of all expence, exclusive of the exhibition of an extensive
apparatus; jjarticular models, illustrative of the arts, were
introduced. A subscription library for the use of this
class, has been productive of beneficial effects.

The late celebrated Dr William Hunter of London, was
born in 1718, at East Kilbride, a village about 8 miles
south-east from this city, and was educated at this univer-
sity. By his last will, lie left his splendid and vciy valua-
ble museum in trust to the professors of the college of
Glasgow, to be received by them a certain number of years
after his death, which happened in 1783. This collection
■was brought to Glasgow in 1808. It consists of minerals
and fossils, plants, shells, fishes, beasts, birds, insects and
reptiles, books, rare and valuable manuscripts, anatomical
preparations, antiquities, original pictures from the most
eminent masters, and many other productions of nature
and art. The coins and medals are of the first considera-
tion ; the whole is estimated at 150,000^ This collection
is placed in a building erected in the college garden for
the express purpose; and is shewn to the public on appli-
cation to the trustees.

The royal infirmary is a noble institution, supported by
voluntary contribution. By its charter, the management
is placed in the lord-provost, who is, ex officio, president ;
the member of parliament; the dean of Guild; the con-
vener of the trades-house ; the professors of medicine and
anatomy ; the president of the faculty of physicians and
surgeons; one member from the town-council, merchants
and trades-houses, and college ; three from the faculty of
physicians and surgeons ; and ten from the general court
of contributors. From 31st December, 1813, to 31st De-
cember, 1814. there have been admitted to the hospital
1267 patients, of whom 855 were medical, and 412 surgi-
cal ; 666 of the gross number were men, and 601 women.
Of 104 distinct diseases, with which the patiencs were
afflicted, there were 154 cases of fever, and 52 operations
performed; 758 patients were cured, lOO relieved, 102
died, 132 remained in the hospital, and the remainder
were either convalescent, improper, or incurable. Since
the opening of the infirmary in 1794, there have been ad-
mitted 15036 patients; of which number 10,325 have been
cured, and a considerable number of the remainder reliev-
ed. During the above period, advice has been given at the
infirmary to nearly 40.000 out-patients. The subscriptions
for 1814 amounted to 1901/ 1 U. 5d.; contributions, 152/.:
11:6; legacies, 522/., 6s 9d; and the fees from medical
students for leave to attend the hospital, 597/.: 15 : 1.

This institution is supported by fixed contributions from
the town council, merc'iants, and trades houses, and gene-
ral session ; but chiefly from an assessment on the inliabi-
lants, laid on by 15 persons not connected with the town
council. The mode is, to assess every person, in propor-
tion to his property and business, within the burgh, who is
supposed to be worth 300/. In 1814, there were 484 per-
sons in the hospital ; 795 out-pensioners, who received
nursery wages for their children; 738 out-pensioners, who
received meal from the hospital; making a total of 2017
on the funds. The average cost of each person in the hos-
pital, in 1814, is 9/ : \5s. per annum ; tlie quantity of meal
used in 1814, is 2302 bolls. The rate of assessment on
every lOo/. of supposed property in the burgh, 3.s. 6(/. ;
valuation, 5,830,700/. ; amount of assessment, 10 273/.

Tliis institution was opened on the 12th December,
1814, when 23 male and 18 female patients were admitted.
Since the opening, a period of only 1 1 months, 112 patients
, have been admitted; of whom 24 have been cured, six re-
lieved, one died, six discharged being idiots, and 75 remain-

ed in the asylum. The rates for the support of paupers
belonging to Glasgow, or those parishes who have contri-
buted 50/. for every 1500 persons in the parish, is 8s.; and
for those who have no claim, 10«. Gr/. per week. The
rates for boarders arc from 13s. upwards. Although there
are at present no boarders in the asylum whose rates arc
higher than 31« 6^/. per week, every suitable accommoda-
tion is piovided for the higher ranks.

As a few months have only passed since this institution
was opened, no distinct statement of its affairs can be
given. There are at present 14 penitents in the asylum,
whose conduct gives the managers the happiest presage
of future usefulness.

The aflairs of this asyhim, for the reception and cure of
unfortunate females, are, by its charter, placed under the
management of one member from the town council ; one
from the merchants and trades houses; one from the cler-
gymen; two from the faculty of physicians and surgeons;
and eight from the court of contributors. From 31st De-
cember, 1813, to 31st December, 1814, there were 128
patients admitted, whereof 118 were cured, one died, and
nine remained in the hospital. The expenditure of 1814
was 447/. : 14 : li. Although no proper patient was refus-
ed admittance, the number has this year happily diminish-
ed nearly in the proportion of one-third from former years.

Although it will not be expected that, in a manufactur-
ing and commercial town like Glasgow, there would be
libraries on a very extensive scale, there are nevertheless
to be found in the collection of the college, the Ilunterian
museum, the faculties of physicians, and surgeons, and
procurators, books of the utmost value and consideration,
in every branch of literatuie. The books in the public
subscription and circulating libraries are on a scale suited
to the extent of the place. In 1810, the following newspa-
pers were published here : — the Courier, Herald, Journal,
Chronicle, Western Star, Clyde Commercial List, and
Centinel. The two last, which were weekly papers, are
now discontinued.

Piior to 1806, the citizens had no other supply of water
than fiom 28 pump-wells in the streets. As some of these
were very limited, and the water often of a bad quality, a
number of the inhabitants, in 1 806, procured an act of Par-
liament, incorporating them into a company for supplying
the city and suburbs with water, under the name of the
Glasgow Water Works Company. Accordingly, this cor-
porate body purchased lands at Dalmarnock, on the bankg
of the Clyde, about three miles above the city, where they
erected steam-engines, filtering pits, and reservoirs, Sec.
and now send river water, in a pure state, in iron pipes,
through the streets and lanes of the city and suburbs, for
the accommodation of all thoss who choose to purchase it.
The expenditure of the company up to April 1815 is
81,194/. 9s. 7d. The produce of water rents for one year,
ending at same period, is 5971/. : 8:7, which is raised
in advance from the following rates, viz. — persons occupy-
ing a dwelling-house rented under 4/. pay 5t. per annum ;
4/. and under 6/. 6* per annum; 6/ and under 8/. 7s. 6U.
per annum; 8/. and upwardb five per cent, per annum.
Bakers pay 5«. per annum for each man or boy employed
in the bakehouse. The keepers of horses and cows, is.
for each. Counting-houses, shops, and warehouses, pay
from 5s. to 10s. ; and public works according to the quan-
tity of water used. The cast iron pipes, belonging to the
compiiny, laid in the streets and lanes within the royalty,
exclusive of the main from Dalmarnock, and pipes in the
suburbs of Gorbals, Calton, Bridgetown, Sec. amount to
seventeen miles, four furlongs, and three poles.

In 1808, a number of persons, connected with the su-
burbs, obtained an act of Parliament, incorporating them

5 C 2

756

GLASGOW.

into a company for supplying the city of Glasgow and its
suburbs with water, under the name of the Cranston Hill
Water Company. Accordingly, they purchased lands at
Cronston Hill, and on the banks of the river, about a mile
below the city, and erected stpam-engines, filtering beds,
reservoirs, Sec. and now send river water in a pure state, in
iron pipes, through a number of the streets and lanes of
the city and suburbs. The expenditure of the company
is 52,000/. The water rates are nearly the same as the
Glasgow company. The cast-iron pipes belonging to this
company, laid in the streets and lanes withm the royalty,
exclusive of the main from Cranston Hill, and the pipes in
the suburbs of Anderston, Gorbals, Calton, and Bridge-
town, &c. amount to nine miles, four furlongs, and eleven
poles. The total length of pipes within the royalty, be-
longing to both companies, is 27 miles, and fourteen poles.

The affairs of the river Clyde are placed, by act of par-
liament, under the management of the magistrates and
council. The revenue arising from tonnage, cranage, and
harbour dues, collected at the Broomielaw, amounted, in
1814, to 5,920/. 2s. 8d. Those dues are kept distinct from
the corporation's funds, and are laid out in deepening and
improving the river and harbour, and in discharging the
debt of the trust.

Prior to 1800, the police of the city was under the sole
management of the magistrates and council, and supported
from the corporation funds. In 1800, an act of parliament
was obtained, vesting the management in the lord provost,
luagistrates, dean of guild, convener, and 24 commission-
ers, to be chosen by the inhabitanis. The commissioners
are authorised to assess the inhabitants of houses, snops,
and warehouses, &c. for the purposes of the act. The ex-
ecutive power is vested in tlie magistrates, and the admin-
istration of all its other affairs in the magistrates and ward
commissioners. The commissioners hold stated weekly
and quarterly boards, and numerous committees watch over
the particular concerns of every department. This act be-
ing in force for seven years, gave the inhabitants an oppor-
tunity of observing its beneficial consequences ; according-
ly, in 1807, a new act was obtained, without requiring any
material alteration, other than that the rate of assessment
was increased on rents of 4/. and under 6/. from 4rf. to 5d.
in the pound ; 6/. and under 10/. from 6rf. to 7 id. ; 10/. and
under 15/. from 9rf. to llirf. ; 15/. and upwaids, fiom Is. to
1 s, 5d. The commissioners, under this act, have merited
and received the general approbation of the citizens, who
have rarely been called on for the maximum rates.

Abstract Statement of the Receifits and Disbursements for

the year ending 25t/i July 1814.

Sum contributed by the city of Glasgow .... X800 0 0

Amount of assessment 6734 2 2

Dung of the streets 652 2 9

Amount of fines 157 0 9

Disbursements. /-8343 5 8
Salaries to the master, clerk, collector, trea-
surer and surveyor Z.640 0 0

Wages to 19 officers 793 10 5

78 watchmen, at lis. per week 2230 16 0

8 patrolcs, at 2s. per day 249 12 0

15 scavengers, at lis. per week 429 0 0

1 ditto, 15s. ditto 39 0 0

Carting dung from the streets 455 8 8

Lighting 1264 lamps, from 20lh August to

5th May 2569 16 0

10 ditto part of the season 12 6 10

Oil for watchmen's lamps, clothes to officers
and watchmen, rent of office, fire engines,

and secret service money, 923 is 9

In 1 807, a renewal of an act of Parliament was cbluined,
appointing the magistrates and council truaeesof statute la-
bour conversion within the city, and authorising them to
assess the inhabitants of dwelling-houses, whose rents are
under 5/. in 2«. yearly; 5/. and under 10/. 3«. yearly; 10/.
and upwards, 5s. yearly; horses, ISa. each; and each
ploughgate of land, (60 acres,) at 60s. : the following per-
sons being always exempted, — clergymen, parochial school-
masters, militia men enlisted under the act of 1 779 and
and 1782, and paupers. The nett proceeds of 1814 are
1445/. which is all expended on the streets and common
sewers.

This city has long been conspicuous for the number and
excellence of its seminaries. In 1814, there were more
than 1400 students attending the University. Of this num-
ber 800 were enrolled as students of philosophy, and of the

Greek and Latin languages, 1400

In the Andersonian institution there are 280 stu-
dents instructed in natural philosophy, chemistry,

materia medica, and mathematics, 280

The principles of natural philosophy and mechanics

are explained to 490 operatives, at a moderate fee, 490
In the private lecture rooms instruction is given to

210 medical students, 210

In the public grammar-school there are four teach-
ers of the Latin, and a rector, who gives instruc-
tions in the Greek and Latin languages, and in
geograpJiy. Tlie number of students in this se-
minary are 520

Amount, where a full fee is paid, 2900

The following are benevolent foundations, in which all
the children receive a substantial education, and some of
them clothing and money annually :

In Hutchison's school there are 84 boys

— Tvades-house school,

— Wilson's school,

— Town's hospital, with addition of ? . C boys and

maintenance J t girls.

— Miller's school, 60 girls.

The Highland Society educate and put

out to apprenticeships, 80 boys.

The Highland Society also educates 60
boys and girls belonging to Highland-
ers,

In Lennox's school,

. Flesher's school,

— Peddie's school,

— Routledge's school 70 girls, employed

at the public works, are taught, in
the evenings, to read, sew, knit, and

spin,

In the six schools under the patronage of
the kirk-sessions, there are 450 boys
and girls taught to read and spell, .

52 girls.

Cboys and
" I girls.
45 girls.

450

1214

i8343 5 8

On benevolent foundations, where no \
fee is paid, [

In the Lancasterian schools a small fee
is exacted, 560

In the Sunday schools, under the inspec-
tion of a committee from the town
council and general session, 800 boys
and girls are taught to read the Bible,
and repeat the Shorter Catechism, gra-
tuitously, , 800

In the Sunday schools, under the joint
management of mcmbersof session and

GLASGOW.

757

(lissentei-s, 1740 boys and !;iils are
taught to read the Scriptures gratuit-
ously, 1740

Tn 1799, the presbytery of Glasgow as-
certained, that there were 60 private
schools in the city, wherein the various
branches of elementary education are
taught, at various rates, in addition to
such as are above described. If we
suppose, that, during the course of 16
years, the number of these schools have
increased to 75, and that each school
averages 45 children, the total will be 3375

Total of persons educated within the >

city, b ' .

A number of these schools have juvenile libraries at-
tached to them.

This city is the chief seat of the synod of Glasgow and
Ayr, and of the presbytery of Glasgow. The members of
the latter are, the ministers of the city, of the barony, Gor-
bals, Rutherglen, Cumbernauld, Carmunnock, Calder,
Canipsie, Govan, Kirkintilloch, Kilsyth, Cathcart, and
Eaglesham, and their elders. The synod is composed of
seven presbyteries, viz. Glasgow, Ayr, Irvine, Paisley,
Hamilton, Lanark, and Dumbarton.

At the Reformation, one minister, who was superintend-
ant of the western district of Scotland, officiated in Glas-
gow, and had the pastoral charge of all its inhabitants: in
15S3, the session of Glasgow was regularly constituted, of
1 minister, 35 elders, and 26 deacons. In 1590, although
the lay members of session were numerous, we find the
minister had summoned an inquest from the neighbour-
lioocl, to assist him in judging of matters of scandal. Soon
alter this period, public worship was performed in three
churches: during subsequent periods, commencing about
the time of the Revolution, the town has been divided into
eight separate parishes. The patronage of the original one
is vested in the crown, the town-council electing all the
other clergymen.

The places of worship within the city are now as follows :
— nine parish cl.urches, including the barony, four chapels
connected with the establishment ; one covenanted presby-
teri' n, one antiburgher, three burgher and three relief
meeting-houses; two tabernacles; one English and one
Scotch Episcopalian chapel; one independent, two baptist,
and two methodist meeting-houses; one Roman Catholic
and one unitarian chapel. The Glassites, Bereans, uni-
versalists, &C. have all places of worship. The number of
sittings in the whole are 35,550.

In the summer of 1811, Mr Henry Bell, an ingenious en-
gineer of this city, constructed and plied between Glasgow
and Greenock the steam boat Comet, performing a voyage
«f 22 miles in three liours and a half, by means of an en-
gine of three horse power. This vessel was the first which
was impelled by steam on a navigable river in Britain.
Since the above period, the following vessels have been
built by various persons, and are now plying on the river,
viz. the Glasgow, the Clyde, the Dumbarton Castle, the
Britannia, the Caledonia, the Argyle, the Greenock, the
Duke of Wellington, the Prince of Orange, the Princess
of Wales, the Trusty, and Industry, the two last mentioned
being constructed cliiefly for trade, carry each 70 tons of
iTierchandise; the Prince of Orange, and the Princess of
Wales, boats, have accommodation for 120, and the others
for 220 passengers. These vessels are worked by engines
of fruTii 10 to 32 horse power; the average time of per-
forming a passage oi 22 miles is redui-.ed to three hours;
when the wu\d and tide arc both favourable, the voyage can

be completed in little more than two hours ; but when ad-
verse, it is prolonged to three and a half, or even four
hours : the present fare for llie cabin is 4s. and for tlie fore-
castle 2s. 6d. Exclusive of the vessels wiiich are at pre-
sent plying on the Clyde, the Duke of Argyle and Marge-
ry steam boats, carrying each 220 passengers, are now on
the Thames; they were carried round by the Forth and
Clyde navigation, a distance ol more than 500 miles; one
of these boats encountered and weathered a very heavy
sea. Steam boats from the Clytle arc also plying on tho
Mersey and Forth.

Some years ago an extensive range of hot and cold baths
were erected in Bath Street, a short distance from George's
Stiuare. A model has been approved of for floating baths,
intended to be erected on the Clyde during the ensuing
summer.

The situation of Glasgow is singularly favourable for
carrying on manufactures and commerce. Placed on the
border of one of the richest coal and mineral fields in the
island, with which it communicates by the Monkland Ca-
nal, while for carrying ofl' its commodities, and receiving
returns, the Atlantic is open to it on the one hand, through
the river Clyde, and the German and North sea on the
other, through the Forth and Clyde canal and river Forth.

Before the year 1707, there had been different branches
of manufacture begun at Glasgow, particularly the manu-
facture of coarse linens ; and a considerable trade had been
carried on with Holland. The union of the kingdoms at
this period having opened the colonies to the Scotch, the
merchants of (ilasgow availed themselves of the circum-
stance, and entering extensively into a trade with Virginia,
soon made their city the great mart for tobacco, and Glas-
gow became the chief medium through which the Farmers
General of France received their supplies of that article.
To so great a height was this branch of commerce carried,
that for several years before the war, which ended in Ame-
rican independence, the annual imports of tobacco into the
Clyde were from 35,000 to 45,000 hogsheads; and in the
year immediately preceding that event, 57,143 hogsheads
were imported. Only from 1200 to 1300 hogsheads of
these were sold for home consumption.

The trade, while it continued, engrossed almost the
whole capital and commercial enterprize of Glasgow ; very
little other foreign trade was attempted, and any manufac-
tures that were carried on, were chiefly of articles adapted
to the demands of the Virginia market. Supplying that
state with European goods, and taking of the produce of
its soil in return, became, in a great degree, a monopoly in
the hands of tlie Glasgow merchants.

There had, as early as the year 1732, been a beginning
made in a trade with the West India Islands, but up to the
year 1775, the business was confined to a few houses, and
had not been very beneficial. The imports of West India
produce into the Clyde in the year 1775, were as follows:
Sugar, 4621 hogsheads and 691 tierces; lum, 1154 pun-
cheons and 193 hogsheads; cotton, 503 bags.

The interruption of tlie intercourse with America, now
for'ced the traders of Glasgow to turn toother objects, the
enterprize and c.ipitjl wuicii the commerce with that coun-
try had nearly wholly engrossed They began rnor-e gene-
rally to direct tiieir attention to manufactur-es ; and the dis-
covery then just made by Mr Arkwriglrt, of the improved
process of spinning cotton wool, a few years after this pe-
riod, led to attempts in the different manufacturing towns
lo hri:ig the manufacture of muslins into this countr-y. The
caniOric and lawn manufacturers of Glasgow emiiiirked in
the undertaking, and, aided by the facility which a similari-
ty of the fabrics afforded, were successful b>yond tiieir
most sanguine expectation. The progress of the cotton

758

GLASGOW

manufacture al Glasgow after this was rapid, a number of
spinning woiks were established, and tnosi. of the diderent
fabrics of cotton cloth were executed. Oyeirjg and print-
ing of linen and cotton dolus, a branch of manufacture wliicli
had been going on for some time on a limited scale, was
now greatly extended, and furnished employment to a large
amount of capital. A number of other manufactures of
linen, woollen, iron, and pottery, and of the other articles
subsidiary to more important branches, were prosecuted on
a smaller or gi eater .scale, and continued to extend as the
general commerce of the city advanced. The manufactur-
ers of Glasgow, who, till this period, had principally looked
for a vent for their goods to the demands of their own ex-
port merchants, now began to open a more extensive sale
to London and other parts of England, and going over to
the continent, formed connections with almost every country
of Europe.

The number of cotton mills belonging to Glasgow,
situated in the town and diflercnt parts of the country, is
52. The spindles in tlicse arc calculated at 51 1,200 ; and
the capita] employed in the buildings, machineiy, and in
carrying on the manufacture at about 1,000,000/.

Two of these mills, not yet finished, and now filling with
machinery, (1816) will cost 50,000/. each.

The first spinning works were established at a distance
from town, for the convenience of water for the machinery ;
as the Badindalloch and Down mills, which are in Stirling-
shire, the Catrine mills in Ayrshire, the Lanark mills, and
the Rothsay mills in the island of Bute, all the property of
liouses in Glasgow.

No positive estimate of the amount of the cotton ma-
nufacture, in all its branches, can be given ; but some facts
may be mentioned, from which an idea of its extent will be
derived.

Belonging to Glasgow there are eighteen woiks for
weaving by jjower, which contain 2800 looms, producing
about 8400 pieces of cloth weekly. The number of hand
looms employed by the manufacturers of Glasgow, at this
date, appear, upon a pretty careful investigation, to be about
32,000.

There are eighteen calico printing works belonging to
Glasgow ; and there has lately been added to this branch,
an extensive manufactory of Bandana handkerchiefs, in-
troduced by Messrs Henry Monteith, Bogle and Company,
the cloth for which, being dyed a fine turkey red, the pat-
tern is afterwards produced, by discharging the colour of
the figure by a chemical process.

There are 17 calendering houses in Glasgow, containing
59 calenders moved by steam, which execute more than
four times the quantity of work performed by the same
machinery when moved by horses. One of these houses
employs 119 hands in calendering and folding the goods;
and the whole of these establishments are able to calender
in a day 118,000 yards, besides dressing 1 16,000 not calen-
dered, and glazing 30 000.

There are nine iron foundaries in Glasgow, and several
extensive works for making steam entwines, with the ma-
chines and machinery required for the different processes
of manufacturing. It was not before the year 1778 or
1779 that the power of the steam engine, in consequence of
Mr Watt's inestimable improvements, was found to be ap-
plicable to manufacturing operations ; and it was many
years after that period, before it was brought into general
use. There are now 73 steam engines in Glasgow and the
immediate suburbs, of a power of from four to fifty horses,
employed in the different processes of manufactures.

The war of 1793 having for a time brought into our pos-
session the West India colonies of the other European
states, the West India merchants of Glasgow obtained a

large share of the trade which this circumstance threw into
the hands of this country. The connection with Demerara
in particular, which it gave tliein the means of forming,
proved valuable, and is now likely to be lasting. The im-
ports of West India produce into the Clyde, for the three
last years, have been as follows.

1812. 1815. 1814.

^Hogsheads 28862 36037 40004

cuj,3,,„yl"'ci-ccs 2543 4038 3712

^ SBarrels 5868 7248 5282

f Boxes 100 266o 8703

r Jamaica 5 Puncheons 2346 5265 4i;33

J, \ ^Hogsheads 53 141 150

""* ^Leeward 5 Puncheons 4690 7567 7410

( Islands I Hogsheads 44 23 69

fCasks 5025 12325 16251

Coffee-j Barrels 928 5384 8107

(_Bags 7927 35823 53237

The removal of the royal family of Portu.gal to Ameri-
ca, having opened the trade of the Brazils to foreigners, the
merchants of Cilasgow immediately formed establishments
there, and have continued since to have a profitable inter-
course with that country. Establishments were also made
at Buenos Ayres and the Caraccas, as soon as these parts
of America began to assert their independence ; but the
commerce with these states has hitherto been fluctuating
and hazardous, from the situation in which their affairs
have been kept.

Upon the conclusion of the peace of 1783, an intercourse
was opened by the merchants of Glasgow with the differ-
ent states of the American Union; and the introduction of
the cultivation of cotton wool, a few years after, into the
southern states, furnished the means for a great increase
of this trade. Indeed, without this new field to supply the
quantity of the article which the growing demands of the
manufacturers required, and of the qualities suited to the
different fabrics to be made, this important branch of in-
dustry never could have reached that high state at which
it has arrived. The bringing home this article for the ma-
nufactures of Glasgow, and sending out the returns, be-
came a great trade, and led to the formation of establish-
ments for carrying on this part of the business at Charles-
ton and New Orleans. The imports of cotton wool into
the Clyde, for the last four years, have been as follows.

1812. 1813. 1814. 1815

Bags. Bags. Bags. Bags.

Charleston and Savannah . . . 5358 .. .. 9014

New Orleans 2586 .. .. S224

Other American ports .... 1971 3234 1859 2737

Brazil 5099 7367 3168 1345

Demerara 7316 5627 6967 8764

West Indies 7475 11212 9785 2057

Continent of Europe .. 435 504

Coastwise 8246 7194 16302 4786

Besides the trade with these parts of America which
have been mentioned, the merchants of Glasgow have
large dealings with Canada and Nova Scotia.

Tlie rapid progress making in the use of mechanical
power in manufactures is particularly favourable to the
growing prosperity of Glasgow, from the inexhaustible
supply of coal it possesses for working machinery. 'I'his,
with the advantage of water communication in every di-
rection, renders it, almost more than any other place, fitted
for carrying on manufactures of a heavy or bulky nature,
and must have the effect to bring many new branches of
industry of this description to be added to those which it
already has. This city, then, producing thus a great va-

GLASS.

759

riety of articles for exportation, and carrying on, at the same
time, a very extensive foreign trade, seems to combine all
the requisites to raise it to the lii,u;hest commercial emi-
nence. The revenue of the posl-ullicc at Glasj^ow, in tlie
year 1781, was 4344/. : 5 : 8 ; in 1814, it was 34,UOO/.

Connected with the commerce of Cikis^;ow is the institu-
tion of its Chamber of Commerce and Manufactures, the
firbt establishment of the kind made in the island. This
association was incorporated by a royal charter in the year
1783, and owes its origin to Dr Patrick Colt|uhoun, author
of the State of the Police of J^ondon, and other works, and
at that time a merchant in Glasgow, and one of its most
enlightened and public-spirited citizens.

The chamber consists of the merchants and manufactur-
ers of Glasgow and the neighbourhood, who may become
members upon paying five guineas at admission, and 10s.
6d. yearly. The management is vested in thirty directors,
six of whom are renewed annually ; and their duty is to
keep a watchful eye on whateveimay be supposed to aflTect
the commercial interests of Glasgow and its neighbour-
hood, and at the same time to serve as the organ of com-
munication between the manufacturing and commercial
body of the district, either acting generally or separately,
and the legislature or any of the departments of the state.

In 1780, the number was 42,832 In 1791, .... 66578
In 1785, 45,889 In 1801, .... 83^769

Census of 1811.

North parish .... 11,159 Soulii-west 8193

North-west 9940 St Andrew's 5250

West 4190 St Enoch's 7715

East 6159 Govan 8081

South 5758 Barony or Landward

Gorbals 5799 parish 38,216

Total population • 110,460

In 1815, the number of families in the 24 police wards,
who paid taxes on rents under 5t. per annum, was 7455
Do. on rents of 5/. and upwards 5272

Number of families in the 24 wards 12727

On the principle of there being an average of five souls
in each family, the number of inhabitants^jfl the 24 wards
of the royalty would be 63, 635 ; being an increase of 527 1
during the period of four years. If to this number the
population of the Gorbals, Govan, and Barony be added,
as taken in 1811, the amount will be 115,731 ; and if we
suppose the increase of these suburbs for four years to be
4269, the grand total in 1815 will be 120,000.

In 1814, there were interred in the burying-grounds with-
in the royalty, and in the immediate suburbs, .... 3254
In the year 1813, 2704

Increase of burials in 1814

GLASS.

Glass is the name of an artificial substance, formed by
the igneous fusion of siliceous earth with various salts and
metallic oxides, and possessing a high degree of transpa-
rency, equalled only by the more perfect crystals of the
mineral kingdoms, and other physical properties, which
render it one of the most useful and ornamental substan-
ces which the arts have received from the ingenuity of man.

The word glass is of uncertain etymology. It has been
derived by some from the word glessum, the name which
the ancient Gauls and Germans gave to amber, and from
which has arisen theCJerman word gteisser, " to shine," and
the English word glisttn ; while others have traced it to the
word g/aslum, the Latin term for woad, either because the
ashes of this plant were used in the manufacture of glass,
or because glass had commonly that blue tinge which the
lirilons communicated to their bodies by the use of the
woad. Its derivation from the Latin word glacies, signify-
ing ice, is not less probable than those which we have men-
tioned.

It would be a task as irksome to ourselves as it would be
unprofitable to our readers, to detail the unfounded specu-
lations which have been accumulated respecting the origin
of this remarkable substance.

There is some reason to believe that glass was made by
the Phenicians, the Tyrians, and the Egyptians. Paw and
other antiquarians maintain, that the first glasshouse was
constructed at Diospolis, the ancient capital of Thebais;
but it appears from the writings of the ancients, that the
Phenicians had made considerable progress in the manu-
facture of glass ; and Pliny informs us that the Phenician
colony of Sidon obtained, for some hundred years, the chief
ingredients of their glass from the Phenician town Acco,

now St John D'Acre, near the place where the small river
Belus throws itself into the Mediterranean.

The account of the origin of glass, which Pliny has
handed down to us, is extremely plausible. A merchant
vessel laden with nitre or fossil alkali, having been driven
ashore on the coast of Palestine, near the river Belus, the
crew went in search of provisions, and accidentally support-
ed the kettles on which they dressed them upon pieces of
fossil alkali. The river sand, above which this operation
was performed, was vitrified by its union with the alkali,
and thus produced glass. The important hiiit which was
thus accidently obtained, was soon adopted, and the art of
making glass was gradually improved.*

In the time of Pliny, glass was manufactured out of the
fine sand which was collected at the mouth of the river
Vulturnus. After being ground to powder, it was mixed
with three parts of nitrous fossil alkali, or soda, and after
fusion it was taken to another furnace, where it was formed
into a mass called ammonitrum., and converted into a pure
glass. A similar method of making glass was used in
Spain and Gaul.

Pliny informs us, that in the reign of Tiberius an artist
had his house demolished for m.iking glass malleable,
while Petronius Arbiter asserts that he was beheaded
by the emperor. About the commencement of the Chris-
tian era, drinking vessels were commonly made of glass,
and glass bottles for holding wine and flowers were in com-
mon use. The comjjany at Rome which was engaged in
the manufacture of glass had a particular street assigned
to them near the Porta Capena. Alexander Severus im-
posed a tax upon this company in A. D. 220, which was
continued in the time of Aurelian.

• " Fama est, adpulsa nave mercatorum nitri, cum sparsi per littus epulas pararent, nee esset cortinis attoUendis lapidum occasio, glebas
nitri e na\ e subsidisse. Quibus acceiisis permixta arena littoris, translucentcs novi liquoris fluxisse rivos, et lianc fuisse originein vitri." Pliii.
lib. xxxvi. cap. 65.

'60

GLASS.

The art of making coloured glass seems to have been
coeval with the invention of glass itself. Many of the
Egyptian mummies, one of which is in llie British Mu-
seum, are ornamented with beads of variously coloured
glass, which could not have been executed without a che-
mical knowledge of the properties of the metallic oxides.
By what processes these coloured glasses were formed, it
is not easy to discover, as the ancients were not acquainted
with the mineral acids which arc now usually employed in
the preparation of metallic oxides. Strabo was told by the
workmen of Alexandria, tliat their country produced an
ingredient for making coloured glass ; and Seneca informs
us, that Deniocritus introduced into Europe the art of mak-
ing coloured glass, and of thus imitating the precious
Stones. But from whatever source this curious art was de-
rived, it was brought to a high degree of perfection among
the Greeks and Homans; and many of the gems were so
admirably counterfeited, as to deceive even those who were
intimately acquainted with the study of minerals.

In the time of Augustus, the Roman architects made
use of glass in their mosaic decorations ; and several spe-
cimens of this glass have been found among the ruins of
the villa of the emperor Tiberius, in the island of Capri.
Some of these specimens have been examined and analy-
sed by Klaproth. They consist of pieces of red, green,
and blue glass.

The first of these is of a lively copper red colour, per-
fectly opaque, and very bright at the place of recent
fracture. The green grass has a light verdigris colour,
is opaque, and has a scoriaceous shining fracture. Two
hundred grains consisted of

Red Glass.

Silex 142 ,

Oxide of lead ... 28 ,

Oxide of copper . . 15 <

Oxide of iron .... 2 ,

Alumine 5 .

Lime 3 .

196

The blue glass had a sapphire colour, verging towards
that of smelt, and was transparent at the edges only. Some
of the plates of it are not coloured throughout the whole
of their mass, but only through about two thirds of their
thickness. Each of the strata is so distinct, as to give the
appearance of a blue and a colourless plate adhering at their
broad surfaces.

A still more singular art of forming pictures with co-
loured glass was known and practised by the ancients. It
consists of variously coloured glass fibres, fitted with the
utmost exactness, so that a section across the fibres re-
presents the object to be painted. These fibres, when pro-
perly joined together, are afterwards cemented by fusion
into a homogeneous and solid mass. Specimens of this
art seem to have been first discovered about the middle of
the last century. Count Caylus first describes them in his
Collection of Antiquities, and Winkelman in his Annotations
on the history of the Art among the Ancients, under the
name of pictures made of glass tubes. Sulzer, in bis
Theory of the Polite Arts^ describes, in the article Mo-
saic, specimens which he had seen at Dresden ; and Kla-
proth has given drawings of one which he has in his own
possession. The following description of two pieces of
this kind of glass, which were brought to Rome in 1765,
is given by Winkelman :

" Each of them is not quite 1 inch long, and \ of an inch

broad. One plate exhibits, on a dark ground of variegated
colours, a bird representing a duck of various very lively
colours, more suitable to the Chinese arbitrary taste, than
adapted to shew the true tints of nature. The oul'ines
are well decided and shari), the colours beautiful and pure,
and have a very striking and brilliant effect; because the
artist, according to the nature of the parts, has in some
employed an opaque, and in others a transparent glass.
The most delicate pencil of the miniature painter could
not have traced more accurately and distinctly, either the
circle of the pupil of the eye, or the apparently scaly fea-
thers on the breast and wings, behind the beginning of
which this piece had been broken. But the admiration of
the beholder is at the highest pitch, when, by turning the
glass, he sees the same bird on the reverse, without per-
ceiving any difference in the smallest points ; whence we
could not but conclude, that this picture is continued
through the whole thickness of the specimen ; and that,
if the glass were cut transversely, the same picture of the
duck would be found repeated in the several slabs; a con-
clusion which was still farther confirmed by the transpa-
rent places of some beautiful colours upon the eye and
breast that were observed. The painting has on both
sides a granular appearance, and seems to have been form-
ed, in the manner of mosaic works, of single pieces ; but
so accurately united, that a powerful magnifying-glass
was unable to discover any junctures. This circumstance,
and the continuation of the picture throughout the whole
substance, rendered it extremely difficult to form any di-
rect notion of the process or manner of performing such
a work. And the conception of it might have long con-
tinued enitcmatical, were it not that, on the section of the
fracture mentioned, lines are observable, of the same co-
lours which appear on the upper surface, that pervade the
whole mass from one side to the other; whence it became
a rational conclusion, that this kind of painting must have
been executed by joining variously coloured filaments of
glass, and subsequently fusing the same into one cohei-ent
body. The other specimen is about the same size, and
made in the same manner. It exhibits ornamental draw-
ings of green, white, and yellow colours, which are traced
on a blue ground, and represent volutes, beads, and flow-
ers, resting on pyramidally converging lines. All these
are very distinct and separate, but so extremely small, that
even a keen eye finds it difficult to pursue the subtile end-
ings, those in particular in which the volutes terminate.
Notwithstanding which, these ornaments pass uninterrupt-
edly through the whole thickness of the piece."

One of the two specimens which we have mentioned as
in the possession of M. Klaproth, is represented in Plate
CCLXXV. Fig. 4. Both the pieces have a heart-shaped
form, their principal front being flat, and the reverse con-
vex. The length of one of them is one inch, its breadth
four-fifths, and its thickness, two-fifths. The other spe-
cimen is two-thirds of the size of the first; but they are
both nearly alike in the colouring and manner of drawing.
The principal mass of the large specimen is a dark and
perfectly opaque, but the smaller one, which is in some
places transparent, has a sapphire blue colour. The blue
ground is ornamented with voluted stellular, minute flow-
ers, on such a small scale as to be scarcely imitable by the
miniature painter. Their colours arc red, green, brown,
sky-blue, and white, and are all pure and lively. The de-
lineations pervade the whole mass; and it is obvious from
examining a fracture, that those minute ornamenis are
formed of parallel glassy fibres of various hues, aggluti-
nated by fusion.

About the end of the 3d century, as appears from a

GLASS.

761

passage in Lactanliiis,* glass was used for windows ; and
there is reason to believe, IVom the glass plates louncl in
Hercvilancum, that window glass had been intpoduced at a
much earlier period. St Jerome, A. D. 422, I'aulus Si-
Icnliarus, A. D. 534, Gregory of 'I'oiirs, A. D. 571, and
Johannes Philoponus, A. U. 630, f all s|)eak in the most
distinct manner of the use of glass in the formation of
windows.

Italy was the first modern nation that employed glass in
windows. The custom was afterwards introduced i Uo
France; and though the art of making glass was brought
into England in A. D. 674, by foreign aitists sent for by
the Abbot Benedict, who glazed the church and monas-
tery of Weremouth in Durham, yet this great invention
was so much neglected, that private houses were not light-
ed through glass till the end of the 10th century. The
windows of houses, and even the cathedral churches, were
covered with fine linen cloths.

ter at the base. Tlic furnace is erected in the centre, over
a large vault, that extends from one side of the cone to the
other. The vault or cave is generally made of a sulFicicnt
height and width to allow the workmen to wheel a bari'ow
with rubbish out and in. This, however, is not the ordy
purpose of tliis cave, as it is made to communicate with
the furnace by an aperture in the to]) of it, of such a size
as the fuiiiacc above may require. Over this aperture a
grating of strong iron is placed, so as to be in the centre
of the furnace, and upon that grating the fuel is laid, and
ignition is maintained by the air that issues into it through
the caves or vaults underneath.

The crucibles or pots are the most important article
about a glasswork. The clay obtained at Stourbridge is
found to answer the purpose better than any other. After
carefully picking and brushing the clay, it is ground in a
mill, and sifted through a sieve of about 20 passes in an
inch : it is then wet with warm watei-, and well tramped

The application of painted glass to the decoration of in a large cistern, until it is brought to the consistence of

church windows, was made before the commencement of
the 9th century, as we are informed by Anastasius, libra-
rian to Pope Leo III. that painted glass was used in his
time. This art made rapid advances to perfection ; and
all the ingenuity of the art was exhausted in the produc-
tion of those splendid windows which at present adorn the
Gothic cathedrals of Europe. The ait of staining glass,
though still known and practised, is, however, to a cer-
tain extent lost ; and we admire, without being able to imi-
tate, some of the rich productions of the middle ages.
We have had occasion to see a specimen of glass, brought
home by Dr Brewster from the abbey of Konigsfeld, in
Switzerland, which consists of s/x different layers of green
and purple glass placed alternately. The thickness of the
plate is only about the seventh part of an inch ; and the
different layers have an equality of thickness, and a paral-
lelism, which is truly surprising. The compound colour
is a liM;ht purple. A section of this plate is shewn in Plate
CCLXXV. Fig. 5, the dark layer representing the purple,
and the light one the green glass.

The art of making plate glass by blowing, was carried
on to a great extent at the village of Murano, near Venice ;
and Europe was long supplied from this quarter with the
linest and largest mirrors.

We are indebted, however, to the French, for the art of
casting large plates of glass, which was introduced in I6S8
by Abraham Thevenart. An account of this establish-
ment, and of the glass manufactories in England, will l)e
foimd in our articles England, and France.

Glass appears to have been first made in Scotland in
the reign of James V'l. and the exclusive right of manu-
facturing it within the kingdom, was given to Lord George
Hay for 31 years, from 1610. This right was transferred
in 1627 for a considerable sum, to Thomas Robinson, mer-
chant-tailor in London, who again transferred it for 250/.
to Sir Robert Mansell, vice-admiral of England. A manu-
factory of glass was carried on for some lime in a cave at
Wemyss, in Fifeshire. Regular glass works were alter-
wards established at Prestonpans ; but the principal places
where glass is now made in Scotland, arc Ltith,t Glasgow,
and Dumbarton.

Sect. I. On Glasshouscn, Pots, 'Cfc.
The glasshouses now in use are commonly large cones,
from 60 to 100 feet high, and from 50 to 80 feet in diame-

a thick paste. Some manufacturers make up a very large
quantity of this paste, and keep it in that state for many
months : others, again, work it immediately into pots or
crucibles. It is also common to take old crucibles and
grind them down to a fine powder, which they add to the
crude clay in quantities seldom exceeding a fourth part,
from an itlea that the burnt clay renders the crucible more
refractory, and of course more likely to resist the com-
bined action of the fire and alkali required in the compo-
sition for glass. This mixture contracts less than if the
pots were made entirely of crude clay, and of course is
less liable to break while drying.

Various methods have been tried for working the clay
into pots, by using moulds. Sec ; Init the method that has
been most generally practised, is to knead the clay, while
in the state of a paste, till it is nearly as tough as the put-
ty used by glaziers. It is then made into rolls, and wrought
one layer upon anothei', and pressed together with the
greatest care, so as to make a compact body, quite free of
any vacuity, and generally into the shape of an inverted
cone, or into a cylindrical form.

The pots used for bottles and window glass are gene-
rally made about 40 inches diameter at top by 30 at bot-
tom, and about 40 inches deep, and are termed open pots.
Those for flint glass are covered over, and termed capt
pots; they are made of various sizes and shapes. Bottle and
crown house pots are made from three to four inches
tliick ; and flint house pots from two to three inches thick.
After tiie pots are made, it requires a good deal of atten-
tion to bring them to that state of dryness requisite for
their being taken to the annealing furnace. Before pots
are set into the furnace, they are heated up with the great-
est caution, in an arch or vault built for the purpose, to a
perfect white heat. This operation requires four or five
days, or longer, if they are not very dry previous to their
being used ; and when they are completely annealed, as it
is termed, they are carried with the utmost expedition from
the annealing arcli, and set into the working furnace. The
setting of pots is deemed the severest labour about a glass-
house, from the great heat attending it; and is described
as follcrtvs by Mr Blancourt, He observes, that the rough-
est work in this art is the changing the pots when they are
worn out or cracked. In this case, the great working hole
must be uncovered, the faulty pot must be taken out with
iron hooks and forks, and a new one must be speedily put

» " Manif'estius est, menteni esse, qu:e per ociilos e.i, qua; sunt opposita transpici.it, quasi perioncstras lucente vitro, .aut spcculari lapide
cbductas." lie Oliificio j)ei, cap. 5.

f Philoponus infoniis us that tlie g-lass was fastened in with plaster.

+ The editor l.as been indebted to Mr .Iamks G£i,jjts, of Leilli, for the priiicip.il information respecting the manufacture of bottle, cj'own,
and rliiit glass, contained in Sects. 1. II. and IV.

Vol. IX. Paut 11. 5 y

762

GLASS.

jjlute ol glass.

Sect. II. On Buttle Glass.

Tlie boUle-liouse furnace, represented in Plate CCLXXV.
I'ig. 1, (see description of Plates,) is generally an oblong
K([uare chamber, arched over with the same material.
Some give it a very flat croivn, as it is called ; and others
raise it high and of a barrel shape. This furnace is erect-
ed in the centre of the building, on the top of the cave or
vault, and is divided into three spaces in the inside by the
grate, and on each side of that is the site for the pots or
crucibles, which is a bank of the same material as the fur-
race, generally about a foot high, and three broad.

In this furnace there is a hole about a foot diameter for
each pot, called working holes, at wliich the workmen
put in the materials, and take out the li(niid glass. At
each angle of the furnace there is also a hole about the
same size, which communicates with the calcining fur-
nace ; and tlie flame that issues from the main furnace,
which otherwise would be lost, rcverbeiates on the mate-
rials in this lurnacc, and calcines them. There are genc-
lally eight othei furnaces or arches in a bottle-house. Six
are used for annealing the bottles after they are made, and
two for annealing the pots, pievious to setting them into
the main furnace.

The materials used for bottle glass are of the coarsest
kinds. Government will not allow any but the commonest
sea or river sand, mixed with soap boiler's waste, which
is done in the proportion of three of soap waste to one of
sand, according to the quality of the soap waste : this soap-
waste is generally calcined in what is termed the coarse
arch. Two of the calcining arches are kept for that pur-
pose at a red heat for 24 to 30 hours, the time required to
jnelt and work the metal or glass that is made by filling
the pots at one lime; this is called a journey; after that
the soap-waste, now termed ashes, are taken out and bruis-
ed, and mixed with the sand in the proportions already
mentioned. The mixture is then put into the fine arch,
where it is again calcined during the working journey,
which is generally 10 or 12 hours more. When the work-
ing journey is over, the pots are again filled with the red
hot materials out of the fine calcining arch. In about six
hours it is melted; the pots are again filled up, and this se-
cond filling requires about four hours to melt.

By continuing the heat to as great a degree as possible,
in tne couise of 12, 15, or 18 hours, these materials be-
come a perfect glass, fit for making wine bottles. The
furnace is then reduced to a working heat, by shutting the
cave doors, and excluding the air from the grating. The
metal, as it cools in the pots, becomes more dense ; and
all the heterogeneous matter that was contained in the
ashes, and not melted into glass, floats on the top and is
skimmed off. The furnace is then filled with coal, in
such a way that it will retain what is termed working heat,
for four or five hours, when it is again filled so as to pre-
serve that degree of heat till the working journey is finish-
ed. It is impossible to give any correct idea of the pro-
cess of blowing to a person that never saw glass manufac-
tured. There are six people employed in the making of
one bottle, independent of all the men employed in pre-
paring the materials, each performing a distinct part; and
by that division of labour, they are enabled to make a very
large quantity in a journey ; and although ten men and
boys are busily working with long hot irons, and red hot

glass metal in a liciuid state, in a space not exceeding fouc
s(|uarc yards, yet such is their regularity in passing one
another, and handing back and forw'ard their work, wliicfi
never fails to strike a stranger with terror, that it is very
rarely any of them meet with an accident.

One workman, called a gatherer, dips the end of a tube,
heated red hot, and about five feet long, into the pot con»
taining the metal, to which it readily adheres; and after
it is cooled a little, he again immerses the end of the tube
so as to cover the metal ; and, by giving it a turn in his
hand, he is enabled to bring out of the pot as much as is
required for a common wine bottle. He then hands it to
the blower, and prepares anotlicr ; while the blower, by
rolling the metal on a stone or plate, brings it to the end
of the pipe or tube : he then holds it to a brass or cast-
iron moidd, and, by blowing down through the tube, makes
the glass, which is now getting cold, retain the shape giv-
en to it, which is that of a common wine bottle. It is then
handed to the finisher, who, by means of a cold piece of
iron with which he touches the neck while still red hot,
luit cold enough to retain its shape, cuts it of}' from Itie
blow-pipe, as completely as if done by a diamond.

Sect. III. Broad or Inftrhr IVindotv Glass.

This species of glass consists of different ingredients,
and is manufactured in a different manner from crown win-
dow glass. lis ingredients aie, soap boiler's waste 6 bu-
shels; kelp 3 do. ; sand 4 do.

When these materials have been calcined for from 20
to 30 hours, they are removed wiih iron shovels, while
red hot, to the melting furnace, when the pots are filled
with it. By exposure to the heal lor 12 or 15 hours, the
whole is reduced to a fluid state. It is then taken out upon
tubes in the manner described under Seel. IV'. and blown
into globes of nearly a foot in diameter. These globes
being carried to the mouth of the oven, a longitudinal and
nearly rectilineal crack is produced, by touching it with a
cold iron dijiped in water. The globe is then opened on a
smooth iron plate at the mouth of the furnace, and then
forms a circular sheet of thin transparent window glass.
See Parke's Jilssays.

Sect. IV. Cro'xn Glass.

The furnace for crown glass, represented in Plate
CCLXXV. Fig. 2. (see description of Plates,) is general-
ly constructed for four or six |)ots of such a size as will
contain from 16 to 20 cwts. of glass. There are also seve-
ral other furnaces required in this manufacture: A rever-
beratory furnace for calcining the materials; flashing fur-
nace, and bottoming hole, used for the purpose of heating
the glass, in order to continue its flexibility till it acquires
from the workman the desired shape, with several others
called arches, which are used tor the purpose of annealing
the glass after it is made, and the pots previous to their
being set into the furnace. The materials for crown glass,
that is, the best window glass, are two parts of kelp to one
of fine white sand ; these are the usual proportions ; but
the (|uality of even the best kelp is extremely various,
some vitrifying more and some less sand. From six to
eight cwt. of these materials, after they are well mixed,
are put into a reverbcratory furnace, of about six feet
square, having an arch thrown over it of about two feet in
height. On the one side is a grating to contain the fire,
with an ash-pit beneath. The bottom of this furnace is
raised about 3i feet high, so as to be more convenient for
the workmen to turn the materials. As the neutral salt
contained in the kelp when tieated is extremely penelral-

GLASS.

763

ing, and rcatllly goes t!iroui;li common or even fire l)ricks,
carryiiip; along with it a considerable qiraniity of alkali,
and thereby very much injuring the r]\;;ility of the glass,
various plans have been tried to prevent it, some by mak-
ing large bricks of Hre clay, and others by placing a plate
of iron so far under the lloor of the furnace, as not to be
much afl'ected by the heat, from an idea that when the iron
tub or pan is (illec! with the neutral sail, no more will be
lost. Another plan, is to have (lues for admitting a stream
of cold air below the lloor of the furnace, which cools it,
and keeps the salt from running off. Hut it would un-
doubtedly be a much bettur plan to separate the alkali
from all heterogeneous matter previous to mixing it with
the sand.

The operation of calcining, or burning yrrV, requires
much care. After the materials are put into the furnace,
they are stirred frequently, until all the earthy matter in
the kelp is burnt away, which generally requires about
three hours; the heat is then raised to such a degree, as
to bring the materials almost into a state of fusion, which
must be prevented by constant stirring, otherwise it would
get into what is termed catches-, or small knots that con-
tain more sand than the rest of the batch, occasioned by
the alkali being dissipated from an excess of heat. If it
is continued at that high temperature for about two hours,
it will be sufficiently calcined. It is then taken out of the
furnace, and spread, while warm, upon a plate, and di-
vided into large cakes; this must be done bcfoie it cools,
otherwise it would be one hard lump. It is the opinion of
many that frit cannot be too old. Al' the opulent manu-
facturers, therefore, lay up great quantities, and seldom
use any till it is six months old.

Crown glass is made by filling the pots on the melting
furnace with frit, adding about one-eighth part of broken
glass. The furnace is then raised to as iiigh a degree
of heat as possible, and in about ten or twelve hours the
frit is melted. The pots are again filled up in the same
manner. The heat is then continued, and if possible in-
creased, till the metal, as it is now called, is completely
fine, that is, pure liquid glass fit to be made into window
glass, altogether requiring from 30 to 36 hours of intense
heat.

After the metal is completely fine, the founder, that is
the workman who manages the metal making, allows the
fire to slacken for about two hours, until it ai rives at what
is termed a working heat; this is called st-llling the fur-
nace, and on the proper settling of the furnace the working
of the metal in a great measure depends.

For whiiling ov Jlas/iinif crown glass few tools are re-
quired. The piin^ ipal instrument is an iron tube, the end
of which being heated, is dipped into the pot of melted
glass, and turned round to collect some glass upon it.
This portion of glass is distributed equally upon all sides
of the end of the tube, by rolling it upon a small flat table
of iron. It is then heated, and again dipped into the melt-
ed glabs, to take up an additional quantitiy. In this state,
by blowing slightly through the tube, the glass is made
hollow within; and the workman judges, fiom the manner
in which it enlarges when he blows, if the glass is so ar-
ranged round the end of the tube, that it may be afterwards
blown out and extend itself etiually on all sides, to form a
large globe, or hollow vessel of any other circular figure,
of a regular thickness. If he perceives any side to be too
thin, he dips tirat side fisst into the melted glass, to take
uj) a greater quantity, and reinforce it; and he fuithcr cor-
rects this, by rolling it on the marble. This operation
is repeated three or four times. The last time he heats it
well in the fire, and roils llie glass with great care, to form
it circularly upon the end of the tube, and lengthen it out

in the manner represented by Fig. I. Plate CCLXXVI.
Then, by blowing through the tube, he distcTids tlic glass
into the foim of a long hollow pear, resting it all the while
upon the iron table, and rolling it rourid, that it may pre-
serve a correct circular figure, and distend itself erjually.
To lengthen out the neck of the pear, he rolls it, as it
may require, over a smooth iron rod, fixerl up horizon-
tally, as ill Fig. 2. and the pressure thus caused will
lengthen the neck. He then blows again through the
tube, supporting the glass, by resting tiic extreme end of
the pear ui)on the iron rod, and rolling it round at the
same time : The pressure upon the iron rod raises a small
jjoiht or eminence upon the globe, opposite the end of the
blowing iron. The blowing being dexterously managed,
and assisted by th.e pressure of the rolling, llie glass is en-
larged to the form of a sphere. Fig. 3, which remains at-
tached to the tube by a neck.

By the time the workman has proceeded so far, and pro-
duced a globe. Fig. 3. of a very regular thickness, the
glass is generally so far cooled as to grow firm ; and though
it will leadily yield to a pressure, it will not alter its
figure by its own weight. To proceed in the operation,
it must be heated again. For this purpose, it is carried
to a ])articular mouth of the furnace, to be exposed to the
heat of the flames. A slight wall is erected before one-
half ol this mouth, to screen the workman from the heat;
and the screen is at a sufficient distance from the wall of
the furnace, to leave room for the globe to pass between
them. A hook is fixed in this wall for the support of the
blowing iron, which is rested in the hook, at a few inches
from the neck of the globe. This method admits of turn-
ing the tube rapidly round as an axis, to which the globe
is affixed, and therefore revolves with it. The side of the
globe opposite to the end of the blowing iron being ex-
posed to the heat of the fire, is gradually softened; but
the neck of the globe, which joins tiie rod, and all that
part of the glass which is more remote from the fire, is
not softened in an equal degree. In this situation, the cen-
trifugal force produced by the whirling, causes tiie equa-
torial parts of the globe to fly out from the centre, by
stretching or enlarging itself; but as this enlargement
will be most powerful upon the softest part of the glass,
which is the end opposite to the fii'e, the centrifugal force
will cause that end to become flattened almost to a flat
plate, or at least to a slightly convex plate, as shewn in
Fig. 4.

In this state tiie glass is removed from the fire, and the
neck is cracked off, by resting the tube across the rod
and turning it round, whilst the neck is touched with u
piece of iron wetted in cold water. This produces a cir-
cular crack round the neck, which is separated from the
tube, by laying the glass upon a table, shewn in Fig. 4,
which IS composed of two planes d, inclining towards each
other, so as to receive the glass without danger of its roll-
ing off In front of the tabic is a sharp bridge or wedge
c, over the edge of which the workman rests the glass at
the place where it is cracked. In this situation, a slight
stroke upon the rod breaks off tha neck, and leaves the
glass upon the table. The workman iiow dips the end of
an iron rod o into the melted glass, and takes up as much
as will make it adhere firmly to the proniinf.ice r, so as
to serve for a spindle to turn the glass by. The glass be-
ing now thin, soon becomes so cool as to require heating,
which is done bj preseiiting the open end to the flame,
the workman resting the lod in the hook, and turning it
slowly louud, that the glass tnav become equally heated.
Wf. n the open end is sufficiently softeiicd, the workman
retiis ■; iiom the fire, and supporting the rod over a rest
or hook, he turns the glass steadily round, whilst a boy
5 D 2

764

liLASS.

introduces an iron tool into Uic open end of tlic neck. The
motion opens and enlarges the aperture to the form of
l"ig. 5 ; and they take great care, by turning with a regu-
lar motion, and pressing regularly with the iron tool with-
in the opening, to preserve the circular figure, wliilst they
form the glass into a sort of dish, such as is represented
in Fig. 6. In this state, being carried to the furnace, and
heated before a large mouth, whilst it is whirled rapid-
ly round, the centrifugal force throws it out into a flat
circular plate a b, of from 3 feet 6 inches to 4 feet dia-
meter.

AVhen the plate is sufficiently cooled, the workman ap-
plies a cold iron, to crack the neck of the central projec-
tion wliich connects the plate with the rod, and he then
lays the plate flat down upon a bed of ashes previously
prepared. The rod or spindle is now separated by a gentle
stroke, and the plate is taken up upon an iron fork, and
conveyed to the annealing oven, where a great number are
set up edgewise, and sujjported by iron frames to keep
them flat. The fire of the oven is suffered to burn out,
and the heat to diminish as slowly as possible, until the
glasses become quite cold : They are then withdrawn from
the furnace, by taking down a slight front wall built in the
door or arch. The heat of the annealing oven, which is
not sufficient to make the glass so soft as to bend by its
weight, is continued for 48 hours, or longer.

Window plate, also called German plate, or table glass,
is made by the same means of blowing and rolling ; but
these are managed to produce a cylinder, which is cut
open and spread flat upon a table.

In order to form glass plates by the extension of a cylin-
der, the workman blows the glass into the shape of a pear,
as at Fig. 7. The length of this pear must be nearly
equal to the length of the plate, and its diameter of such
a size, that the circumference, when unfolded, will be equal
to the breadtli of the plate desired. He now supports the
blowing iron over a stool or iron bar, whilst an assistant,
■with a pointed iron, pierces a hole into the extreme end
of the pear, opposite the end of the blowing iron : This
opening is enlarged by introducing the blade of a pair of
spring tongs, as in Fig. 8. whilst the glass is turned round ;
and, by a peculiar management of these, the end of the
pear is at last opened out to a cylinder, as in Fig. 9. The
workman now mounts a stool, and holds the blowing-iron
perpendicularly, whilst his assistant cuts open one side of
the cylinder with a pair of cutting shears, as in Fig. 9.
The blowing iron is next broken off, and a rod b, Fig. 10.
applied to the end of the cylinder, to form a spindle to
work the other end by. This rod has a flat circular plate
upon the end of it, or three prongs c, c, c, which being dip-
ped in the melted glass, arc applied to the end of the
cylinder. By this rod the glass is carried to the fire, and
the end from which the tube was broken ofl' is heated. It
is then opened by the spring tongs, and reduced to a cylin-
der of the same size as that at tlu- other end. The shears
are next used to cut the cylinder open from this end, and
leave it in the state of a sheet of paper rolled up. The
cylinder is now laid upon a smooth copper table, where the
spindle is detached, and tUe glass spread into a flat siieet,
and annealed.

Sect. V. On Flint Glass.

Flint glass was formerly manufacture'! from flints cal-
cined, and afterwards ground, well washed, ^nd sifted, to
which was added pearl ashes, or an alkali of some kind,
to serve as a flux, and a s\nall quantity of arsenic.

The materials now used for the finest flint glass, ate,
first, a fine white transparent sand, which is termed the

body of glass; this is found ol'ten mixed with clay, &c.
from which it is freed by washing, until the water comes
quite clear ofl' ; it is then calcined, and afterwards sifted
thi'ough a very fine sieve of from 40 to 50 passes to the
inch. The second article is red lead, or litharge, which
serves as a powerful flux, gives greater density to glass,
renders it more ductile, less apt to crack from sudden
changes of temperature, and imparts to it a high refrac-
tive and reflective power. Litharge is preferable to red
lead, as it gives a purer glass, is less liable to be adul-
terated, and acts more powerfully as a flux. The third
ingredient is an alkali, either soda or potash ; the finest
pearl ashes dissolved, and the solution evaporated to dry-
ness, is considered the best, as it imparts no pai ticular
colour to the glass, whereas soda gives it a greenish-blue
tinge.

Nitre, the fourth ingredient, is also used as a flux, and
selves to correct the imperfections that arise from the
lead being insufficiently calcined. A fifth article, viz.
arsenic, is sometimes used to aid the fluxing ingredients;
but the quantity must be very small, lest the transparency
of the glass be hurt by the opake white colour which it
imparts when used largely. A sixth, and very important
ingredient, is tlie black oxide of manganese, which is used
to destroy any accidental foulness of colour that may arise
in the glass, and particularly any tinge given by particles
of iron amongst the sand ; but while it destroys the green-
yellow, or olive colours in glass, by imparting to them a
purple tinge, the mixture of colours produces a blacker
glass, and of course greatly injures its transparency.

When too much manganese is added, the purple colour
may be destroyed by charcoal ; but this can only be done
partially, as the purple tinge is not visible until a perfect
glass is formed, after which the charcoal cannot be mixed
with the glass.

When a batch of flint glass is prepared, it is taken from
the mixing-house to the glass-house, and then put into the
pots in small quantities of ten or a dozen shovelfuls at a
time. When this is melted, which it does in two or three
hours, more is added till the pot is full. The mouth of the
pot is then completely closed, by putting soft clay round
the stopper, except a small aperture, which is left to
allow the sandover or glass-gall to escape. This sub-
stance consists of those salts that are contained in alkalies
purified in the common mode, and which have no affinity
for silex, and are thrown up to the top, from the glass, or
metal as it is termed, being hotter at the back of the pot
than it is at the mouth or front. A small declivity takes
place on the surface of the glass, and if the pot is full to
the brim at the mouth, it will be a little higher at the back
part, consequently the liquid sandover runs off. Flint glass
requires about 48 hours to its complete fusion, although
the furnace (Plate CCLXXV. Fig. 3. See Description of
Plates) is cariied to as intense a heat as possible. After
it is Jine, that is melted into liquid glass, and freed from
all air-bubbles, preparation is made for the working of the
glass. For this purpose the blower, in order to make a
common wine glass, takes a hollow tube of iron about
four feet and a half long, which he heats red hot at the one
end. lie then dips it into the liquid metal contained in
the pot, and takes up a quantity of glass, and forms a hol-
low ball, as described in Sect. III. He then sits down on
a chair with two long arms, to one of which there is a plate
of iron fastened, to prevent the burning of the chair by the
hot iron pipe and glass ; for the operation must be done
with the greatest quickness while the metal is hot. He
rests the pipe across the chair arms, and, while he rolls it
back and forward with his left hand, he with an instrument
similar to a small pair of tongs, catches the solid metal at

GLASS.

•G5

llie end of tlie hollow ball and draws it otif, at the same
lime giviiii; it tlic sliape rec[iiircd for the st;ilk of a wine
glass; another blower is goint; on with the same process,
and blowing a smaller ball ; and after giving it a sharp cut
at the end of the Ijlowpipe, he quickly presses it against
the point of the stalk of the glass in the other man's hand,
to which it readily adheres as firmly as if there had never
been a joint ; and, by giving tiie pipe a smart stroke with
a small piece of iron, it is separated fiom the small ball
now attaciied to the stalk of the glass, which is instantly
given to the finislier or workman, the others being called
blowers or footmakers. This workman then makes the
glass just hot enough to keep it from breaking, and sits
down on his chair, and with a similar pair of tools, while
rolling the pipe rapidly on the arms of the chair, he opens
the ball at the stalk of the glass, and forms a foot. A
boy then takes a small rod of iron, called a fmnty, and dips
it into the metal in the pot, takes out on the extremity of
the rod a small portion of glass, thrusts it immediately
against the centre of the foot, to which it instantly unites.
The workman then with a piece of iron, which he wets
with his mouth, touches the globe intended for the bowl of
the glass with the wet part, which is still very hot, although
so much chilled as to retain its shape, and this in a second
or two cracks it round ; and, by giving the pipe a gentle
knock, it separates from it, and leaves an open uneven
mouth, which the workman instantly heats, and with a
pair of shears, clips the heated glass smooth and even in
the mouth ; but as the shears have put the glass off that
circular form, he heats it again, and by a dexterous twirl
and swing round his head, he, if an expert workman, gives
it the desired shape to a mathematical exactness, almost
without the aid of any tools. The wine glass now finished
and chilled a little, by giving the ponty a smart blow, the
glass separates from the iron, and is carried by a boy with
a long forked iron to the seer, where it is placed in a pan
already heated for the purpose of annealing.

The following is tlie composition of the finest flint glass :
Fine white sand, 300 parts ; red lead, or litharge, 200 ;
refined pearl ashes, 80 ; nitre, 20 ; arsenic and manganese,
a small quantity.

These, all mixed together with the utmost nicety, are
termed a flint batch.

The following results were obtained by M. Zeiher of St
Petersburgh, respecting the optical effects of varying the
proportions of the ingredients of flint glass.

Proportion of red lead to
flint.

Index of re-
fraction.

Dispersion of the rays

in Comparison of crown

glass.

1
o

3
4
5
6

Red lead.

1
i

Flint.

2.028
1.830
1.787
1.732
1.724
1.664

4800 to 1000
3550 to 1000
3259 to 1000
2207 to 1000
1800 to 1000
1354 to 1000

From this Table, it is obvious that a greater quantity of
lead not only increases the refractive, but also the disper-
sive powers of the glass. When i\l. Zeiher mixed alka-
line salts with his glass, he found that they diminished the
other refraction, without making any change in the dis-
persion. He then obtained a kind of glass which had
three times the dispersive power of crown glass, and a

refractive power of only 1.61. '^cn Mem. Acad. Berl. 1766,
p. 150.

M. Cazalct of Bouideaux, lias lately announced a me-
thod of making flint glass for telescopes free of all veins
and imperfections. It consists of

Red lead, pure and sifted through silk, 100 parts.

Nitre, purified 50

Very pure and white chalk 1

Pure white sand 60

The sand must be calcined and pounded in an iron mor-
tar, and ailerwards washed by ebullition with sulphuric
acid, and then purified with muriatic acid. These ingre-
dients are put into a platina crucible, capable of holding
12 ounces of flint glass, and then carried to a bottle glass
furnace. After 36 hours, it will be melted, and is then
poured into water, dried, and reduced to a fine powder.
It is then washed and purified in the same manner as sand ;
again melted and thrown into watei' ; and after being again
pulverised and purified with acids, it is melted a third time,
and at the end of 48 hours it is poured upon a warm plate
of copper, upon which it is allowed to cool gradually. It
will then be found free of all imperfections.

A number of interesting experiments on the manufac-
ture of flint glass for optical purposes, has been made by
M. D'Artigues. He always found that the excellence of
the flint glass depended on the purification of the red lead ;
that the middle part of a large mass of glass was always
the freest from veins ; and that it is only good when it is
manufactured on a great scale. The middle portion of the
pot of glass is blown into cylinders, and afterwards opened
into plates. See Bulletin de la Societe d' Encouragement,
N°. 83.

Sect. VI. On the Manufacture of Plate Glass.

The materials for making plate glass must be of the
finest quality. The principal ingredient is fine white sand,
which is caused to vitrify by adding alkali and nitre, or
salt, and sometimes other fluxes. The desirable qualities
in plate glass are, that it shall be perfectly transparent and
colourless, free from bubbles or specks in the casting. To
attain this it must melt with a moderate degree of heat ;
for, without this quality, it is scarcely possible to have it
cast so quickly, that it will not cool in some degree dur-
ing the operation, and thus have specks. The best alka-
line substance for tlie flux is soda extracted from the
ashes of barilla by lixiviation. If pearl ashes are used,
they should be purified by washing or dissolving them in
water, in wliich the impurities will subside ; and the clear
liquor which is drawn off must be boiled down in iron pans,
till, by the evaporation of the water, the clean ashes are
obtained. Borax is very useful to facilitate the fusion, and
also the running into plates. Lime lias the same quality;
but the quantity must be small, otherwise it will affect the
transparency.

The composition recommended by the author of the
Handmaid to the Arts, is 60 parts of white sand washed
clean, 25 parts of pearl ashes, 25 parts of nitre, and 7 of
borax. To these are sometimes added a small quantity of
lime and manganese, according to circumstances.

The sand and alkali, and also the lime and manganese,
if any are used, are first well mixed together, and thrown
into a reverberatory furnace, represented in section by Fig.
1 1, where A is the fire-place, situated between two circular
ovens or domes B, upon the flat floors of which the mate-
rials are laid ; and the flame rising from the grate being

'66

GLASS.

reflected down Ijy the arched roofs, stiilies upon tlie floors
oF the ovens with sufficient heat to nearly fuse the male-
rials, and cause the sand lohecome very white hy a semi-
vitrification. This calcination is cnntinued for five or six
hours, and tlie materials are constantly stirred and turned
over with an iron poker, lo expose every part to the heat;
vinlil they cease lo afl'ord any vapour, or to undergo any
farther chani^e.

A plan of the furnaces used hy the French is given at
Fig. 12. of plate CCLXXV'I. and a vertical section at
Fig. 13, the same letters hcing used in both. The real
furnace A, which contains the two large pots a, a, and two
others on the o])posite side, is surrountled by four other
furnaces or ovens IJ, H, U, 1), which proceed from the an-
gles, and are heated by tlie flame of the same fire passing
through flues t^^g. The three ovens marked IJ, B, B
are intended for binning the pots in which the glass is
melted and refined, and also the cisterns into which it is
put, to be conveyed to the casting tables. The fourth oven
D is intended for healing ihe frit or material, previous to
its being put into the pots to be melted down. The four
ovens are all of the same form and dimensions, except that
the openings 6, 6, b into the three first arc larger than the
mouth d of the latter : all these openings are closed by
doors of bricks fitted in iion frames. The fire is made in
the bottom of the great furnace at E, l"ig. 13, being includ-
ed between two sloping walls f, e, which form the benches
or seats for tiie four pots; two pots a, a, being placed up-
pon each bench, and likewise two cisterns m. m, which ai-e
placed at the ends of each bench ; and therefore, in the
four angles of the furnace, the form of the arched roof
FF is intended to reverberate the flanic down into and up-
on the pols, to which it gives the greatest heat, and then
passes off by the flties ff' g, ff, g^ Fig. 12. into the four
ovens B, B, B, D. The hiel is supplied through arches E
at the end of the fire-place, v/hicli are of sufficient size to
introduce a new pot when ncccssarv ; but when the furnace
is at work,the-se archcsare bricked up, except a small open-
ing at the bottom. On each side of the furnace are three
working holes /, /;, /(, to admit ladles, by which the glass is
put into the pots a. or taken out and transferred to the cis-
terns ra ; and, in order to withdraw the cistern from the
iire, a door or opening is made in the wall before each, as
s4iewn at //, Fig. 12. ; and the dotted lines represent a floor-
ing of iron plate at the level of the bench, upon Avhich the
cisterns are received when drawn out of the furnace, which
is done by a large pair of forceps, Fig. 14, mounted upon
■wlieels.

The pots are placed in the ovens B. The flues which
admit the fire into them, are provided with dampers or
sliding doors, which are closed until the pots are placed in
the oren. The dampers are tiicn opened very little at first,
to admit the heat gradually, and avoid the danger of crack-
ini^ the pots. The cistci ds are made and baked in the
same manner.

The frit is mi:xed with the fragments of old glass, which
are reduced to powder by heating them in the oven D to
redness, and throwing them into cold water. To this mix-
ture of frit and glass is added the fluxes of nitre or borax,
and the composition is baked for some hours in tlie oven
D, until, by the commencement of the vitrification, the ma-
terials are reduced to a sort of thick paste. This is t,\ken
out of the oven in long ladles, carried to the mouth i of
the furnace, and put into the great pots a, a, which are al-
readv heated. Here the great heat vitrifies, and changes
the frit into glass. It requires a fusion of 36 or 48 hours
to make fine and clear glass, and sometimes more. If it is
found thick or opaque, like porcelain, the heat must be
continued for a longer time, or a greater proportion of flux

must he added; borax is the best for this additional flux.
If ii is f ;und to be a perfect substance of glass, hut colour-
ed, manganese or the oxide of cobalt is put m. Foi- this
purpose, they are lied up in a thick paper at the end of an
iron rod, and put down lo the bollom of the pot. A mix-
ture of arsenic and manganese is used at other limes, ac-
cording to the nature of the colour, which is intended lo be
coriecled.

AV'hen the glass is completely vitrified, it is taken out of
the pots in ladles, and pound into the cisterns which stiud
at the sides of the pots. Tlie cisterns must be introduced
into the furnace whilst they are hot, both to save time in
heating them in the great furnace, and also lo avoid the dan-
ger (jf cracking them by a sudden exposure lo so great a
heat. For this purpose a cistern is taken from the oven B,
in which it was baked, by drawing it with hooks to the
mouth or door ; and it is then seized by the tongs, Fig. 14,
which are a very large pair of pincers, united by a joint pin
a, fixed into the axlctree of a pair of wheels d, upon which
the whole runs. The beaks or jaws d, d, are properly
adapted to receive the cistern between them ; and, for this
purpose, the cistern hasa groove in each side. The oppo-
site ends of the longs have handles c, e, by wliich the men
guide and direct the machine ; and also a small arch g, with
pin holes lo make fast the tongs, when they have seized the
cistern. Having taken hold of the cistern with this ma-
chine, by two men weighing on the handles e, e, they can
readily take up the cistern olf the floor of the oven, and
by the wheels transport it to the furnace, into which they
introduce it through the lower openings. If it is a cistern
which has been used befoie, they take the opportunity of
its being hot to clean out the old glass from its sides. The
glass remains five or six hours in the cistern until the whole
is brought to a white heal. The door at/, Fig. 12, oppo-
site the cistern, is then removed, and the cistern with-
drawn by the pincers, aided by long iron hooks. B ing
then carried to the casting table, represented in Fig. 15, it
is taken up by a crane, and its contents poured out upon the
table, upon which it spreads into a thin sheet.

The table A A is strongly framed in wood, and covered
over with a thick plate of copper, made very smooth upon
the surface. (Fig. IS.) B is a heavy cylindrical roller of
copper, which is us?d to roll over the fluid glass, and flat-
ten it to the required liiickness. To regulate this thick-
ness, two iron rulers a, a, are laid down upon the table, at
such a distance as will include the width of the intended
plate; and the thickness of the rulers is equal to that of
the plate, because they bear up the roller to that distance
from the surface of the table. The roller B lias long pro-
jecting spindles at each end for two men to roll it along by ;
and that it may advance steadily, they are counteracted by
two other men, who iiold rods c, c, and regulate the advance
of the roller.

The cistern D is taken up in a pair of tongs E, shewn
separately in Fig. 16. They open and shut upon the joint
e, and are retained by an arch jr with pin holes. At one
end is a cross handle y, and at the other end two handles
g, g. These tongs arc suspended by lour cliains, from two
levers /i, /;, which, as shewn in Fig. 17, are fitted on the ends
of a bar of iron i, and through the centre of this passes a
cylindrical iron pin /, which, at the upper end, has an eye
to receive the hook of the crane rope, which takes up tiie
whole, as shewn in Fig. 15. An iron plate /c is fixed on the
top of the pin, to preserve the rope from burning.

The operation of casting is performed before the mouth
of the annealing oven, into which the glass plate is intro-
duced immediately after casting. These annealing furna-
ces are ?i ranged round ihe building, which has the great
furnace in the centre, and the table is mounted upon wheels,

GL\SS.

■67

for removing it from one annealing furnace to another.
The crane is also moveable as well as a trcssel F, ionncd
for the reception of the roller B. w!icn it has travelled over
the whole length of the plate. The roller B, which weighs
500 weight, is transported by a carriage on wheels. By these
means, the table and all its apparatus can be very (|uickly
prepared for use before any one of the annealing furnaces.

The cistern beins brought to the table. Fig. 15, is set
down at the side, and the longs (Fig- 1 6.) being opened, the
cistern is included between the blades, which are shut up
and fastened. During this time the surface of the glass is
skimmed, to remove any scum which may float at the lop.
By means of the crane the cistern is now drawn up, and
conveyed over the table in the situation of Fig. 15. The
two workmen, who govern the cistern by its handlesy and
g g; now incline it on the centres of ihe levers/;,/;, as
shewn in Fii";. 17, and pour out a stream of liquid glass up-
on the table A.'\. Just before the roller B,an iron ruler K,
which is to foim the end of the plale, retains the fluid mat-
ter from running off" at tiie end of the table ; and the work-
man, who manages this by its long handle S, withdraws it
as ihe matter flows forwards upon the table, so as to suffer
it to extend itself over the whole table a moinenl after-
wards. When the glass has completely covered the table,
the roller B is advanced with gre.it regularity and steadi-
ness. Its great weight presses down and reduces the up-
per surface of the glass to the level of the side rulers a, a.
In this operation, some glass will often be forced over the
edge of ihe table, in which case it is received into troughs
K, placed on the ground for that purpose. Th.e roller hav-
ing passed over the whole length of the table, is guided
into Ihe tressel Fat the end. The plate of glass llius cast,
is not suffered to remain longer upon the tabic than to cool
itself, so far that it will not war]) by iis own weight, and it
is then shoved off at the end of the table into th.e annealing
furnace, before which the table is placed. This is done by
a tool. Fig. IS, which has a very long handle for two or
three men to push it forwards, and the cross end is made to
receive the end of the plate. The rest of the men guide
the plate sidewise with irons, and assist in placing il pro-
perly in the aimealingoven, which does not require a parti-
cular description, as it so nearly resembles the oven used
by bakers; but its dimensions must be sufficient to contain
the largest glasses, which contmue here baking in a mode-
rate heat for fully 14 days, the heat being at last suffered to
die away as gradually as possible. When quite cool, the
plate of glass is withdrawn and carried to the magazine,
where it is examined and cut square by a large diamond,
fixed in a wooden handle, and attached to a block of wood
to hold it in the proper position to cut in the same manner
as the cutter of a plane. This tool being drawn over the
surface of the glass, cuts so far, that very slight blows with
a sharp edged hammer on the opposite side of the glass
will break it; and if the fractuie is very rough, ihe irre-
gularities are reduced by breaking them off' with pincers.

The glass plate only requires to be ground and polished,
which is performed by bedding the plate with plaster of
Paris, upon a table covered with a large slate stone, and
laying a smaller plate upon it, which is loaded with
weiglits, and drawn backwards and forwards over the great
plate : S:nd, plentifully moistened with water, grinds away
all the prominences of the glasses, until the surfaces of
bolh plates become plane or even. The upper or moveable
glass is dcfi. nded by cementing it to a stroni; plank, and upon
the back of this the weights are laid, which cause the
pressure. To give the workmen hold of the plate, a large
, light coach wheel is placed upon a pin, which projects up-
wards Ircmi the centre of the plank, and two or four work-
men take hold of the rim of the wheel on opposite sides,

alternately pushing and pulling it in all directions. As this
action is transferred by ihe wheel to the centre pin, the
plale is at liberty to move in any direction ; and the work-
men must take care to vary this every instant, to prevent
llie glasses grinding each other into furrows or channels.
The table upon which the grinding is performed, is sur-
rounded by a ledge of about two inches high, to retain the
sand and water with which the lower plate is covered.
When great nicety is recpiired, the upper plate should be
chanifcd for another upper plate which has been ground on
a different table ; because two plates may grind themselves
to a portion of a sphere, one becoming concave and the
other convex ; but by changing Ihe grinding plates, so as to
bring two convex or two concave surfaces together, they
will correct each other. When the plates are small, the
wheel is not used to move the upper one ; but the board to
which the upper glass is cemenied has four small handles
projecling up from it, by which the workmen take hold.
Wlien, by the gririding, a perfect surface is obtained, a finer
sand is used to pioduce a smoother surface. A succession
of emeries of different degrees of fineness, are used after
the fine sand, and with these the operation of grinding is
finished.

The grinding of both sides being completed, the glass
is polished by bedding il with plaster upon a flat table,
ano rubbing on ihe surface with a polisher, which is a
block of wood, covered on the lower side with woollen
cloth. The workman keeps it supplied with fine po-
lishing powders, as uipoli and putty; at first using the
coarsest, and, towards the end of the operation, the finest.
The block of tne polisher for large plates is about ten
inches square, and has two handles projecling from it.
But toj'egulate the pressure, a springing pole is put upon
the back of the block, and being bent to a curve, is sup-
ported in the ceiling of the workshop. When both surfa-
ces are polished, the glass is laid upon a table covered
with a cloth, and any deficiences are removed, by a small
polisher applied by the pressure of the hand without a spring.

In the plate glass manufactory at Ravenhead in Lanca-
shire, which we have had occasion to examine, the opera-
tion of grinding and polishing is performed by appropriate
macliinery driven by two large steam engines. There is
nothing very peculiar in the nature of this machinery, ex-
cepting the ingenious contrivance for changing the path of
the polisher in advancing and returning over the plate of
glass. See England.

Sect. VII. On the Formation of Coloured Pastes.

In our article on Gems, we have already had occasion tq
consider the subject of coloured pastes, or fictitious gems. .^.
We have described the method of Fonlanieu of making a
colourless base, and afterwaids communicating to it any
particular tint by metallic oxides; but as we have followed
that ingenious author only in so far as his experiments re-
late lo the imitation of piecious stones, such as the orien-
tal topaz, the amethyst, the hyacinth, and the beryl, we
shall here resume the subject, and give an account of his
method of producins^ other colours.

1. From Gold. — To obtain the purple colour known by
the name of precipitate of Cassius, M. Fontanieu employed
the following process.

Distil in a glass retort, placed in a bath of ashes, some
gold dissolved in aqua regia, made with three parts of ni-
trous, and one part muriatic acid ; when the acid is passed
over, and the gold contained in the retort ajjpears dry, leave
the vessel to cool, then pour it into some new aqua regia, and
proceed to distil as before. Replace the aqua regia twice
upon the gold, and distil it. After these four operations,

768

GLASS,

pour by little and little into the retort some oil of tartar per
deliquium, wliicli will occasion a brisk clTcrvescencc ; wlien
this ceases, distil the mixture till it becomes dry, and then
put some warm water into the retort. Shake the whole,
and put it into a cucurbit, when a precipitate is deposited,
the colour of which is either brown or yellow. After hav-
ing washed this precipitate, dry it.

2. From Silver — Tlie oxide of silver being vitrified, pro-
duces a yellowish-grey colour. This oxide enters only
into the composition of the yellow artificial diamond and
opal. Mr Fontanieii introduces it into the base in the form
of horn silver (/una cornea). In order to prepare it, he dis-
solves the silver in nitrous acid, and afterwards pours into
it a solution of sea salt: a white precipitate is obtained,
which, being washed and dried, melts easily in the fire, and
is soon volatilized, if not mixed with vitrifiuble matter.

3. From Co/i/ier. — The oxide of copper imparts to white
glass the finest green colour; but if this metal be not ex-
actly in a state of oxidation, it produces a brownish-red
colour.

4. From Iron. — Though it is commonly believed that
the oxides of iron communicate a very fine transparent red
colour to white glass, M. Fontanicu could only obtain from
it a pale red, a little opaque. The oxide of iron he em-
ployed, was in the proportion of the 20th part of the base.
There are various ways of preparing the oxide of iron, call-
ed crocus martis. In general it is necessary that this me-
tal be so far oxidated that the magnet ceases to attract it.
Thus one may use the scales of iron found upon the bars
of furnaces, which serve to distil aquafortis. By digesting
filings of steel with distilled vinegar, then evaporating and
replacing the vinegar ten or twelve times upon these filings,
and drying them alternately, an oxide of iron is obtained,
which must be sifted through a silk sieve, and then cal-
cined. The oxide of iron, thus obtained by the vinegar,
only introduced into the bases a green colour inclining to
yellow. By the following process, one of the finest red co-
lours is obtained : — Let an ounce of iron-filings be dissolv-
ed in nitrous acid, in a glass retort, and distilled over a
sand-bath to dryness. Alter having replaced the acid or
the dry oxide, and re-distilled it a second and a third time,
it is then edulcorated with spirits of wine, and afterwards
washed with distilled water.

5. From Cobalt. — The oxide of cobalt is made use of for
introducing a blue colour into glass : but as this metal is
rarely free from iron and bismuth, it is first necessary to
separate them from it. This is done by calcining the co-
balt ore in order to disengage the arsenic ; and next distill-
ing the oxide in a retort with sal ammoniac, when the iron
and the bismuth are found sublimed with this salt. The
distillation must be repeated with the sal ammoniac till this
salt is no longer coloured yellow. The cobalt which re-
mains in the cornute is then calcined in a potsherd, and be-
comes a very pure oxide, which being introduced into the
base, in the proportion of a 900th part, gives it a very fine
blue colour.

6. From Tin. — The oxide of tin, which is of a white co-
lour, renders opaque the glass with which it is melted, and
-forms white enamel. For this purpose, calcine the putty
of tin ; then wash and dry it, and sift it through a silk sieve.
Take six pounds of the second base, (See Gems) the same
quantity of the calcined putty of tin, and 48 grains of man-
ganese.

7. From Antimony. — Antimony is only susceptible of vi-
trification in a certain stale of oxidation, and then it pro-
duces a reddish hyacinth-coloured glass ; but if the anti-
mony be in a state of absolute calx, such as the diaphoretic
antimony, then it is no longer vitrifiable, and may be sub-^
stituted for oxide of tin, to make white enamel.

8. From Manganeisr — Employed in a small quantify,
this metallic substance renders the glass whiter; a larger
quantity produces a very fine violet colour, and a still larger
dose renders the glass black and opaque. There are two
wa)s of prepaiing manganese. The most simple consists
in exi)osing it to a red heat, and then ciuenchiiig it w iih dis-
tilled vinegar: it is then dried and powdered, in order to
pass it through a silk sieve. The other method of pre-
paring the manganese proper to furnish a red colour, is de-
scribed by Blancourt, who calls it " fusible manganese."
'I'ake of nianganese of Piedmont, one pound ; torrefy and
pulverize it ; then mix it with a pound of nitre, and calcine
the mixture during 24 hours ; afterwards wash it repeated-
ly in warm water, till the water of the leys has no longer
any taste ; dry the manganese, and mix with it an equal
weight of sal ammoniac ; levigate tiiis mixture on a slab
of porphyry, with sulphuric acid, diluted with water to the
strength of vinegar. Dry the mixture, and introduce it in-
to a cornute: distil by a graduated -fire ; and when the sal
ammoniac is sublimed, weigh it, and add to the mixture
an equal quantity. Then distil and sublime as before, and
repeat the operation six times, being careful at each time
to mix the sal ammoniac and the manganese upon the por-
phyry with diluted sulphuric acid.

Comfionilions. — To make the ivhite diamond, take the
iVlayence base. This base is very pure, and has no colour.
It is Similar to the beautiful white paste, so generally known
by the appellation of Straas.

For the Yellow Diamond. — To an ounce of the fourth
base, add, lor colour, 24 grains of horn silver, or ten grains
of glass of antimony.

For the Sa/i/i/iire. — To 24 ounces of the MayeHce base,
add two drachms 46 grains of the calx of cobalt.

For the Oriental Ruby. — 1. To 16 ounces of the May-
ence base, adu a mixture of 2 drachms 48 grains of the pre-
cipitate of Cassius, the same quantity of crocus martis pre-
pared in aquafortis, the same of golden sulphur of antimony
and of fusible manganese, with the addition of two ounces
of rock crystal : or, 2. To 20 ounces of the base made with
flints, add half an ounce of fusible manganese, and two
ounces of rock crystal.

For the Balas Ruby. — 1. To 16 ounces of the Mayence
base, add the above colouring powder, but diminished a
fourth part: or, 2. To 20 ounces of the base made with
flints, add the same colouring powder, but with a fourth
less of the manganese.

For the Brazil Topaz. — To 24 ounces of the second or
third base, add, for colour, 1 ounce 24 grains of the glass
of antimony, and 8 grains of the precipitate of Cjssius.

For the Saxon Topaz. — To 24 ounces of the first or third
base, add six drachms of the glass of antimony.

YoY the Emerald. — 1. To 15 ounces of either of the bases,
add, for colour, one drachm of mountain blue and six grains
of glass of antimony ; or, 2. To an ounce of the second
base, add, for colour, 20 grains of glass of antimony, and
three grains of calx of cobalt.

For the Common Opal. — To an ounce of the third base,
add, for colour, 10 grains of horn-silver, two giains of cal-
cined magnet, and 26 grains of an absorbent earth.

Sect. VIII. On the Art of Staining Gla^s.

Glass staining is the method uf ornamenting glass Tor the
windows of churches, or other edifices, by pictujcs or de-
signs painted in colours, which are made to penetrate into
the substance of the glass, by means of fire. Staiiied glass
is frequently called painted glass, but the distinction should
always be preserved between the painting with transparent
colours upon a surface of glass, and the staining or tinging

CiLASS

76i)

of the glass ilsclf, with the colours which produce the pic-
lure. As pictures in coloured i^lass are always jilaced Ije-
tween llie spectator and tlie lijjlit, they have an clt'cct alto-
gether diderent IVoui any other species of paintini;; ; and,
from the transparent brilliancy of the coloui'ini^-, the spec-
tator is often struck with admiration, independent of any
excellence in the subject of the picture.

Transparent colours painted on glass, either in water or
varnish, can never attain the brilliancy of the coloured .ijlass;
but from the great difficulty of staining certain colours, it
is very common to find, in modern windows, part of the
colours painted on the surface, whilst the large tints are
stained.

It was not until the I5th century that the stained glass
was made to produce the effect of strong lights and shades ;
but resiiccting the methods employed by the painters of
those superb specimens which we find in cathedrals, we
arc wholly uninformed ; and our information is now chielly
drawn from a Memoir of M. Leviel, published in the De-
scrijilion des Arts et Metiers, vol. xiii. This gentleman
was himself a painter on glass, and the only one of emi-
nence who has written upon the art.

The glass upon vvhicli it is intended to paint should be
very hard, without spots, or any colour. Crown window
glass is the best ; for cast or plate glass has borax in its
composition, which would make the colours to run or
spread. When the design is too large to be contained on
a single piece of glass, several must be fitted to one another,
and a bed of some resinous cement prepared, upon which
they can be readily put together, and held on one flat sur-
face whilst painted, with proper spaces for the lead frames,
and yet be readily separated, to subject the pieces separate-
ly to the fire.

In arranging the pieces of glass which are to be painted,
care must be taken to dispose the joints so that they may
do the least injury to the design by the opacity of the lead
frames, by which the pieces must be joined together, in or-
der to form a large window.

Tne design which is intended to be painted upon the
glass, roust be accurately drawn upon a sheet of paper in
outline; or, if necessary, in its proper colours. In this
species of painting, the artist works quite in the dark as to
the effect of his picture, because the colours are produced
by the fire ; and when the preparations are laid on the glass,
they are cither colourless, or perhaps have colours quite
different from that with which they will ultimately stain
the glass.

The design drawn upon the paper, is placed beneath the
plate of glaS6, or upon the bed, when several separate
pieces are used. The upper side of the glass is then
brufched or sponged over with a fine clear gum-water.
This, when peifectly dry, forms a surface proper to receive
the colours, without danger of their rimning or spreading
beyond their intended limits, as they would do if laid upon
the smooth surface of the glass. The first operation is, to
draw upon the glass, with a fine pencil, all the lines which
are necessary to produce the shades, and to mark the out-
lines. This is usually done in a black colour, or at least in
some deep colours, such as brown, blue, or green, and
sometimes red. In laying on these, the artist is guided by
the same principles as the engraver, when he produces the
effect of light and shade, by dots, lines, or hatches; and he
employs that colour to produce the shades, which will best
accord with the colour which is intended afterwards to be
laid on ; but, in general, black is used in the outline for all
the deeper shades. When this is finished, the whole pic-
ture will appeal- represented in lines or hatches similar to
an engraving, finished up to tiie highest effect possible;
and afterwards, when it is perfectly dry, the colours are laid
Vol. IX. Part II.

on by means of larger prnrils. Rar-h colour is spread
upon the part of the design which requires il ; as the iksh
colour upon the laces of the figures, tlie green for trees,
blue for the sky. Sec; but in doing this, the artist labours
inider the disadvantage of being unable to see the effect of
his work, imtil it has been std)j(cled to the fire, ile there-
fore avails himself of a nuniber of trials made upon small
pieces of glass, which he keeps as specimens of the effect
of the dilVcrent colours, ])roperly iiumbererl, to correspond
with the i)rei)aration» which he employs for colouring : he
must, therehirc, search among these specimens for the tint,
and a])ply the proper preparation.

In laying on the colours, it must be observed, that some
preparations which produce beautiful colours, are liable to
run or mix with those which are adjacent to tliem, so as to
confound the outlines of each lespective colour, by pro-
ducing a mixture of the two. This is a serious difficulty ;
the artist must refer himself to his trials ; and when he finds
il necessary to lay two adjoining colours, which will run
together, he must lay one of them on the back of the glass.
The few principal colours, of which we shall piesently
give the preparation, are all fast colours, such as will not
run, except the yellow, which must therefore be laid upon
the opposite side. It should be observed, that those colours
which will mix or run, are equally useful with the others
when applied to produce compound tints ; but the artist
should not attempt to use them without being well ac-
quainted with their properties, otherwise he may by a very
small tint of improper colour destroy all his work.

After colouring, the artist proceeds to produce the very
light parts of his subject, by taking off the colour from them
by a goose (|uill, cut like a pen without a slit. By working
this upon the glass, he removes the colour from the parts
where the lights should be the strongest ; such as the hair,
eyes, the reflection of bright surfaces, and light parts of
draperies. The blank pen may be either employed to
make the lights by lines, or hatches and dots, as wiil be
most suitable to the subject, and the part where they are re-
quired, in the same manner as the black was used to pro-
duce the shades.

The glass is now ready for burning, to fix the colours,
or rather stain the glass, by the preparations wh'ch have
been laid upon it. The furnace most proper for the pur-
pose, is similar to that used by assayers or enam::llers. It
consists of a muflie, or arch of fire clay or pottery, so
placed over a fire-place, and surrounded by flu-s, as to re-
ceive a very considerable heat, but in the most equable and
regular manner throughout the whole; for if this is not at-
tended to, some parts of the glass will berome too much
stained, before the colour takes place ii others. The
mouth of the muffte, and the entry to the fire through
which the fuel is supplied, should be or opposite sides, to
prevent as much as possible the ent'y ot dust into the
nuiffie ; and the mouth of the mutHcshould be closed by
iron folding-doors, with small operings or peep holes
through them, lo allow the artist to rOserve the progress of
the burning, by withdrawing small 'rial slips of glass, which
are stained with the pi incjpal tints employed in the picture.

The muflie must be made of i-ery good fire clay, flat at
the bottom, and only five or six inches high, being so
much arched at the top as is necessary to render the loof
strong, and resist falling in by its weight when hcattd; the
muflie must be so close on all sides as to admit no smoke
or flame. Before the plate of glass is introduced into the
furnace, a bed is prepared upon the bottom oi the muffle.
I'"or this purpose, lime is used. It must be previously
burned, so as to yield no more gas, and then reduced to a
fine powder. In this state, the bottom of the muflie is
strewed half an inch deep, and levelled with a feather

5 E

770

GLASS.

The (^lass is then inlioiluccd, and sometimes llie miiHlc is
fiUed^up with othei- glasses laid above the first, having
beds o!' lime between each. The fire is lighted after all
is sluit up close, and the heat is raised very gradually at
first, lest the glass should be broken by it ; but after the
fire has attained its full heat, it is continued for three or
four hours, more or less, according to the appearances ob-
served upon the trial slips of glass, which arc withdrawn
for that purpose; and the yellow colour is principally at-
tended to, as that is found the best test for the others. The
operation of burning being thus finished, tlie fire is extin-
guished, or rather suffered to die away, and the heat to
subside gradually, to prevent the glass becoming brittle,
as it would do without this precaution ; for the heat, when
at the greatest, must be sufficient to make the glass very
flexible, as is seen by the trial glasses.

We shall conclude this Section with the preparations
for a few principal colours.

Preparation for stai?iing glass of a Jiesh colour. — Take
one ounce of minium, and two ounces of red enamel, of
that kind which is called Venetian glass enamel ; pound
them to a fine powder, and grind it with brandy upon a
hard stone. This mixture, when slightly baked, will pro-
duce a fine flesh colour.

Black colour. — Take 1 i\ ounces of those scales of iron,
which are found round the anvil of a smith's shop ; mix
witli it two ounces of white glass, an ounce of antimony,
and half an ounce of manganese ; pound and grind them
together with strong vinegar. Brilliant black may also be
obtained, by a mixture of blue with the oxides of manga-
nese and iron.

Another black colour. — Take equal parts of iron scales
and of small beads or fragments of glass ; pound them
exceedingly fine, and grind them to a consistence to work
with a pencil.

Another black is made from three parts of glass of lead,
two parts of the scales of copper, and one of antimony,
treated as before.

For broiun. — Take one ounce of white glass or enamel
and half an ounce of good manganese ; grind them first
very fine with vinegar, and afterwards with brandy.

Red, 'ose, and broivn colours, are made from red oxi-
dated iro] prepared with nitric acid. Their flux is com-
posed of borax, sand, and minium, in small quantity.

For rerf.w-Take one ounce of red chalk pounded, and
mix it with two ounces of white hard en?mel, and a small
proportion olthe scales of copper which fall off when it is
much heated »i a forge. This will make a very good red,
but requires trnl if it will support the fire; and if not, add
more of the scaes of copper.

For another rel. — Take one part of red chalk, which is
too hard to write with, one part of white enamel, and a
fourth of orpimen;. grind them together with vinegar.
This is a strong poi^n.

Or a red may be composed of rust of iron, glass of an-
timony, and yellow gfiss of lead, such as is used by pot-
ters, these three in equxl quantities ; to which add a little
silver, calcined with suiohur. This composition, ground
fine, produces a very fine red colour on glass.

When the oxide of copper is used to stain glass, it as-
sumes a bright red or a green colour, according as the
glass is more or less heated in a furnace.

Bistres and brown reds may be obtained, by mixtures of
different proportions of manganese, brown oxide of cop-
per, and the oxide of iron called umber. They are pre-
viously fused with their solvents.

For green. — Take two ounces of brass burned until it
becomes a calx, two ounces of minium, and eight ounces
<fi fine white sand; reduce them to a fine powder, which

inclose in a well luted crucilile, heated in an air furnace
with a strong fire for an hour. When this mixture is cold,
pound and grind it in a brass mortar. Green may often be
advantageously obtained, by a yellow on one side, and a
pale blue on the other.

For ajlne yelloiu colour. — Take fine silver in tiiin plates,
and dissolve it in nitrous acid, and precipitate it ; mix the
precipitate with three times the quantity of pipe-clay, well
burnt, and pounded. With this the back of the glass must
be painted, or it will run into the other colours.

Another yelloiu can be made by melting silver in a cru-
cible, and whilst in a state of fusion throw into it i)owder-
ed sulphur in small quantities, and stir it up until the sil-
ver is reduced to a calx. Grind this upon a stone, and
mix with it as much antimony as the silver, and some yel-
low ochre, which has been previously calcined in a cruci-
ble, until it is changed to a red brown colour. Work all
these together with urine, and paint it on the back of the
glass.

Another yelloiu. — Cut thin plates of silver into small
pieces, and put them into a crucible with sulphur and an-
timony. When melted, throw out the contents into clear
water, and afterwaids pound and grind the preparation, so
that it will work with a pencil.

A /lale yelloiu. — Fill a crucible with thin plates of brass,
with beds of sulphur and antimony in powder. Burn it
till it ceases to smoke, and throw it hot into water. Re-
duce this to fine powder, and having added six times as
much yellow ochre burnt, mix it with vinegar.

A fine yelloiv, equal in beauty to that of the ancient pain-
ters, lias been discovered by M. Meraud. He employs
muriate of silver, oxide of zinc, white clay, and the yel-
low oxide of iron. These colours are applied to the glass
simply ground, and without flux.

Blue colour. — Take mountain blue, and beads of glass,
equal portions; grind them whilst dry to an impalpable
powder, and proceed as with the others.

In general, the same colours as are used for painting on
porcelain, and many of those used in enamel painting, may
be employed with success upon glass. But after all, the
painter must employ no colour without making trial of it
upon the slips of glass. The colours in general become
more faint by longer continuance in the fire, because they
sink deeper into the glass. But every preparation varies
in this respect. All the colours are mixed up for the pen-
cil with gum water in sufficient quantity to make them
work properly.

A number of very interesting experiments on the colours
obtained from metallic oxides, and fixed by means of fusion
either on porcelain or glass, have been made by M. Brong-
niart, director of the royal porcelain manufactory at Se\Tes.
In the preceding list, we have already given some of his
results; but in our article Porcelain, which that celebra-
ted mineralogist has undertaken to furnish for this work,
our readers may expect the fullest and most recent infor-
mation on the subject.

Sect. IX. On the different Methods of Cutting Glass.

A plate of glasss may be cut into any shape, either by
the diamond, or by a bar of red hot iron,

A late and intelligent writer (see Parkes' Chemical
Fssays, vol. v. p. 208) remarks, that there is something
very mysterious respecting the action of the diamond in
cutting glass; and he informs us, that if a sheet of glass,
cut with a diamond, be examined before it is actually bro-
ken into its intended divisions, it will be seen that it is en-
tirely cut through, except at the ujifiermost surjace. If this
statement be correct, the operation of the diamond might

GLASS.

771

well be pronounced mysteuious ; but wc can assure our
readei's, that we have had occasion to examine the fissures
or clefts produced by a diamond, and wc have always
found, that they commence on the upper side of the glass
where the diamond is applied, and extend gradually down-
wards. This may be distinctly seen, by reflecting light
from the separated faces, and the progress of the iissurc
downwards will be marked by the change produced upon
the reflected light. We conceive, therefore, that there is
no mystery whatever in the action of the diamond. A
piece of soft and smooth wood will cut a plate of coagu-
lated isinglass without any difliculty ; a piece of steel will,
with the same ease, cut a plate of wood ; and, in like man-
ner, a diamond will cut a plate of glass with the same fa-
cility, because it is as much harder than the glass, as the
wood is harder than the isinglass, or as the steel is harder
than the wood.

In order that the wood may cut the isinglass, or the steel
the wood, the cutting point must be smooth, otherwise the
surfaces to be cut will be lorn up or scratched, instead of
being really divided. For the same reason, the diamond
must have a smooth natural point, or solid angle ; for if a
piece broken from a diamond is employed, it will only
scratch the glass.

Mr Atwood, in a communication to Mr Parkes, informs
us, that a good cutting diamond should be of a regular rhom-
boidal form, or have one regular smooth edge and rhomboi-
dal point. The least deviation of the diamond from a par-
ticular position and inclination will prevent the cut from
taking place. The workman, who is guided altogether by
his ear, judges by the peculiar creaking of the glass; and
if he does not hear this particular noise, he varies the po-
sition of the diamond till it occurs, and then draws it on-
wards. The diamond apparently wears down at the cut-
ting point by long use, though it will last an ordinary gla-
zier for many years.

" When the cut is perfectly good," says Mr Atwood,
" it should be an mternal fracture, unaccompanied with any
scratch, or any visible impression on the surface whatever;
for in proportion as any such superficial injury is produced,
the completeness of the internal fracture is diminished.
This fracture, therefore, which is called a cut, from its re-
semblance thereto in its effects, as also in the similarity of
its appearance to a real cut, produced on any other sub-
stance by a sharp edged instrument, but which has closed
again, (the expression being further countenanced, by the
sharp form of that part of the diamond which comes m
.contact with the glass,) is really no cut at all, nor doe^ the
diamond so much as enter the surface." If this reasoning
be just, it will follow, that a good diamond is not capable
of making any impression upon the surface ot a plate of
glass over which it is drawn, and that it acts where it is
rot, and doea not act where it is. It would require singu-
lar ingenuity to support such paradoxes.

INIr Shaw, an ingenious watchmaker in Leicestershire,
being desirous of giving some assistance to a relation of
his own, who was a glazier, and who, by a paralytic affec-
tion, was unable to pursue bis trade, invented a method of
fitting up a diamond, by w/iich any person can cut glass as
perfectly as the most e.\perienced glazier. This invention
■was made about a y«^ar ago, and its advantages have been
secured by a patent. " By the use of one of these instru-
ments," says I^fr Atwood, " a person not at all accustomed
to a diamond, may produce a perfect cut over a table of
glass so uneven in its surface, that the most skilful work-
man, with a common glazier's diamond, would not be able
to produce a cut of any kind upon it. This consists in
giving the diamond perfect play, and at the same lime af-
fording it such guide and support, as effectually prevent it

from being afl'ected by the unsteadiness of the hand, or
uncvcnness of surface in respect of its inclination to the
plane of the table; whereby the diamond, being well set or
mounted in its carriage, becomes equally certain in the
hands of every person." Parkes' Chemical Kssaijs, vol. V.
This patent diamond is represented in Plate CCLXXV.
See the description of this Plate at the end of the volume.

When a plate of glass is very thick, it cannot be easily
cut by the diamond ; but the same effect may be produced
by the proper application of a hot iron. The part of the
glass where the cut is to commence must be marked by a
file, and a hot iron must be applied to the place, and held
a little below the groove which the file has made. In a
lew minutes the glass will give a crack, and the iron must
be instantly removed. The iron must be again applied a
little below the termination of this crack, sometimes one-
tenth or two-tenths of an inch distant from it, and in the
line in which the cut is to be made, and the crack will ad-
vance in the direction of the iron. By again applying the
iron in a similar manner, the crack may be conducted in
any required direction. If the glass is to be cut in the
form of a curve, then the hot iron must always be held
very near the termination of the crack, in order that it
may advance by short steps. The fissure is often most
complete on the side of the glass where the iron is ap-
plied, and it is sometimes advisable to apply the iron to
the opposite side. By this means, we have often cut
plates of glass four-tenths of an inch thick with the utmost
accuracy.

Glass may also be cut under water by a pair of scissars,
but in an imperfect manner. If the operation were per-
formed under a thick viscid fluid, the effect would be still
more complete.

Sect. X. Physical Projienies of Glass.

There is perhaps no -substance to which the progress of
the arts and the sciences has been so much indebted as
glass; and ihc^ is none which has contributed more to
the splendour and the comfort of civilized society.

We ''o not propose to enter at present into any detailed
account of the electrical, the chemical, or the optical pro-
perties of glass, which the reader will find fully discussed
under our treatises on Chemistry, Electricity, and
Omt's. We intend merely to enumerate some of the
physical properties, which cither distinguish it from other
bodies, or which could not with propriety be noticed under
other heads.

Glass possesses the remarkable property of suffering no
change by the application of the most intense heat. The
effect of great heats is only to melt the glass, or to dissi-
pate it in vapour ; but as long as any of the glass remains,
it still preserves its transparency, and other distinguish-
ing properties. The conversion of glass into porcelain by
long continued cementation with other materials, happens
only to that particular kind which is made of alkaline salt
and sand.

Of all the solid substances whose expansibility has been
accurately examined, glass possesses the property of be-
ing the least affected by heat and cold. Its expansion,
accor<ling to General Roy, with an increase of lieat equal
to 180" of Fahrenheit's thermometer, is only O.OOorre,
while that of platina is 0.000856, and that of hammered
zinc 0.003011. On account of this property, glass is pe-
culiarly fitted for containing fluids whose expansions are
under examination, as its own change of form may in ordi-
nary cases be neglected. For the same reason, it is better
than any other substance for the simple pendulum of a
elock. See Expansion.

5 E 2

772

GLASS.

Tlie grc;U iliiclility ol gluss is one ol ils most remai-ka-
l)lc properlics. When healed lo a sutticienl detjiee, it
may be tnouklecl into any possible form with the utmost
facility, and it can be drawn out into the finest fibres. The
jiiclliod of sjjinning glass is very simple. The operator
liuUls a piece of glass over the ilamc of a laiDp with one
hand ; he then fixes a hook lo the melted mass, and with-
drawing it, he obuiins a thread of glass attached to the
hook. The hook is llien fi.xcd in the circumference of a
cylindrical drum, which can be turned round by the hand;
and a rotatory motion being given to the drum, the glass
is drawn in the finest tlireads irom the iluid mass, and coil-
ed round the cylindrical circumference. M. Reaumur
supposed, with great probability, that the liexibilily of
glass increased with the lincncss of the threads, and he
therefore conjectured, tliat if they were drawn to a suffi-
cient degree of fineness, they might be used in the fabri-
cation of stufi's. He succeeded in making them as fine as
a spider's web, but he was never able to obtain them of a
sullicient length when their diameter was so much reduc-
ed. The circumference of these threads is generally a
flat oval, about three or four times as broad as it is thick.
By using opake and transparent glass of different colours,
artists have been enabled to produce the most beautiful
ornaments.

When glass has been annealed or cooled slowly, it is
able to resist very considerable force without being broken;
but when it has been cooled suddenly, either by exposure
in the open air, or by immersion in water, it exhibits very
remarkable properties. These properties are shewn in
what arc called Prince Rupert's drops, and glass cups.

The phenomena and the formation of Prince Rupert's
drops, and the theory of their explosion, have already been
explained in our article Annealing. The earliest ex-
periments upon glass tears were made in 1656, both in
London and Paris ; but it is not certain in what country
they were invented. They were fii-st brought to England
by Prince Ru])ert, third son of the V-lector Palatine, l'"re-
derick V. and the I^rincess Elizabeth, dac.r|uer of James I.
and experiments were made upon them by ti." Right Hon.
Sir Robert iNloray, in 1661, by the command o'i his Ma-
jesty. An account of these experiments is to be found
in the Registers of the Royal Society, of which he wasovie
of the founders.

The following experiments have been recently made on
these drops by Dr Brewster, and published in the PInl.
Trans, for 1814, Part H. and 1815, page 1.

" Having ascertained that glass melted, and suddenly
cooled, possessed all the optical properties of crystallized
bodies, I was anxious to determine if it exhibited any other
marks of a crystalline structure. Upon examining the
bulb of an unannealed drop AB, Plate CCLXXIV. Fig. 1.
l)y holding it between the eye and a sheet of white paper,
1 observed a number of lines converging lo the vertex a,
as represented in Fig. 2. This structure was more or less
apparent in every, bulb which I examined, but never ap-
peared in annealed drops. It exhibited itself even on the
surface, and seemed to be owing to an imperfecl crystal-
line form, yet it was not marked with sufficient distinct-
ness to entitle me to consider it as the effect of crystalliza-
tion. In one specimen, however, where the bulb AB re-
mained unshattered, while all the rest of the drop was
buist in pieces, the lines diverging from a were most dis-
tmclly marked, and the bulb was actually cleft in the
direction of these lines, so as to produce a real dislocation
at the surface of the drop. We may therefore consider
the drop as possessing that crystalline structure which
gives cleavages in the direction of lines diverging from
its apex. By examining the fragments of the drop after

it is burst, another cleavage is distinctly perceptible : it is
parallel to the outer surface, and produces a concentric
structure like that of an onion. A third cleavage is visi-
ble in the direction of lines inclined to the axis of the
drop, as represented in Fig. 3 ; but it is not so distinct as
the two first. These cleavages are represented in sectioii
in Fig. 4.

As it appeared probable that the glass drops possessed
a less degree of density than if they had been annealed, I
attempted to ascertain this point by measuring their spe-
cific gravities in these two different states. The unan-
nealed drops, however, had always one or more vacuities,
such as E, F, Fig. 1. so that I was able to obtain only ap-
proximate results by estimating the magnitude of these
cavities.

The following specific gravities were measured by my
friend IMr Jardine, with his usual correctness.

Unannealed flint glass drop, Fig. 1. 3 20405

Annealed flint glass from the same pot .... 3.2763

In order to correct the first of these measures, I mould-
ed a piece of bees' wax into the size and form of tlie
cavities E, F, Fig. I. by examining them under a fluid of
the same refractive power as the glass. I then formed
the two pieces of wax into a sphere, and thus ascertained,
with tolerable accuracy, the weight of a (|uantity of water
of the same magnilude as the cavities. By this means, I
obtained the coirected specific gravity of the unannealed
drop 3.264.

With the view of obtaining some farther insight into the
structure of the crystallized drop, I brought the one, repre-
sented in Fig. 1, nearly to a red heat. Its shape suflered
no change at this temperature, and the vacuities E, F, still
remained ; but it had now lost the faculty of depolarisation,
and the particles had therefore assumed a new arrange-
ment. By increasing the temperature, the cavities E, F,
disa|)peared : the lower side of the drop, upon which it
rested, was indented by the bottom of the crucible ; but it
had in no other respect lest its external shape, the ap-
pearance of the cleavage in Fig. 2. remaining unaltered.
In this state Mr Jardine measured the specific gravity of
the diop, and found it to be 3.278, which is almost exactly
the same as that of the annealed drop.

In order to observe the manner in which the cavities
tllsappeared, I suspended one of the drops by a wire, and
viewed it with a telescopic microscope when exposed to a
«trong heat. Soon after the drop became red hot, the
cavities gvadually contracted, and at last vanished, the cen-
tre of the C£.viiy being the part that was last filled up.
The drop had begun to melt at its smaller extremity, but
the lines repre^^entcd in Fig. 2. were still visible, the heat
probably not having been sufficiently intense to affect its
superficial struciure.

As the specific gravity of the crystallized drop is nearly
the same as that of the annealed drop, the cavities must
be produced by the contraction which the internal part
experiences in cooling, for the sudden induration of the
outer layer prevents the contraction from taking place in
any other way. The manner, too, in which the cavjties
disappear, is a complete proof tVat they contain no air,
and hence we may consider their magnitude, wliich in-
creases with the size of the drop, as a n.easui e of the con-
traction which the glass undergoes in its transition from
the temperature at which it melts, to the oi-dinary tem-
perature of the atmosphere. See Expansion.

1 am informed by Dr Hope, that he has obtained un-
annealed drops of crown glass, in which there were no
vacuities, and that they all burst spontaneously in tl«e
course of afew months." Phil. Trans. 1815, p. 1.

GL48S.

773

The unannealed glass cujjs, which We have mention-
ed nritlci- Annealing, are lepresentecl in Fisj. 5. Plate
i;CLXXI\^ 'I'lie lower end 15 is made very thick, and
the hodics, such as a niubket ball or a fragment ol" Hint,
are dropped into the mouth of it at A. Tlie stroke ol' the
ball upon the thick bottom will produce no efl'ect, while
the blow ol'thc small fragment of flint will bnrst the cup
ivith great violence. The following are the dimensions ot
the cup represented in Fig. 5 : — Length 4i inches ; width
at top 1 ; width at bottom l-j% ; thickness of glass at top^'^ ;
greatest thickness of glass at bottom -j*^.

The bursting of these cups is effected, when they arc
even three inches tliick at the bottom. In an experiment
made by Dr Littleton upon a cup of this magnitude, it
resisted a blow from a musket ball let fall from a height •
of nearly three feet, while it was instantly broken by a
shiver of flint weighing only two grains. An account of
numerous experiments made with these cups will be found
in the P/iilosop/iicat Transactiona for 1745, vol. xliii. No.
477, p. 505.

The Right Hon. Sir Robert Moray discovered that
hollow balls made of unannealed glass, with a small hole
in them, would be burst in pieces by the heat of the hand
alone, by stopping up merely the small hole with the finger.
This obviously arose from the pressure of the expanded
air on the interior of the ball.

About the year 1740, when Mr C. Orme, of Ashby de
la Zouch, was drying the glass tubes for his diagonal
barometers, he observed that they had not only a rotatory
motion about their axis, but also a progressive motion
towards the fire. These tubes were about four feet long,
and half an inch thick, and when placed about 6 or 8 inches
from the fire, they moved " not only progressively, but
about their axis along the side wall against which they
leant, and along the front wall of the chimney, which made
an obtuse angle with the other, so that they seemed to
move up hill, and against their weight." The Rev. Gran-
ville VVheler, to whom Mr Orme shewed these experi-
ments, repeated them with great care, and found that the
experiment succeeded best vvith a modi-rate fire, and when
the tubes were about 20 or 22 inches long, and about one-
tenth of an inch in diameter, when they had in each end a
pretty strong pin fixed in a cork as an axis, and when they
were supported on other glass tubes of nearly the same
diameter. When the progressive motion of the lubes was
stopped by an obstacle, they still revolved about their axis.
When the tubes were placed horizontally on a large frag-
ment of plate glass, instead of advancing towards the fire
as formerly, they moved from the fire, and about their axis
in a direction contrary to what they had done before. In
this case, as formerly, the lubes receded from the fire,
even when the plate of glass was a little inclined. Mr
Whclcr very ingeniously explains these phenomena by
the expansion of the parts of the tube nearest the fire,
which, by placing the glass at a greater distance from the
centre of motion, destroys its equilibrium. The heavy
side of the tube tliercfore descends, and a fresh part of it
being exposed to the fire, expands and descends as for-
merly. A writer in a modern dictionary opposes this ex-
planation, on the ground that " the fundamental principle
on which it proceeds is false, for though fire, indeed, will
make bodies expand, it does not increase them in weight,
and therefore the sides of the tube, though one of them is
exjianclcd by the Jirt, must still remain in eejuilibrio, and
bence we must conclude that the causes of these phe-
nomena remain yet to be discovered." In this extraor-
dinary reasoning, the author has overlooked the funda-
mental truth in mechanics, thai the force with which any
quantity of matter tends to turn round a fulcrum, is pro-

portional to the sum of all the products of each ])article
of matter multi|)iied by its distance from the centre of
motion. Irj the case of the glass tube, the number of par-
ticles remains the same, and the distance of all of them
from the cenlie of motion is increased. Hence ihc sum of
the products is increased, and consequently ihe equilibrium
destroyed.

When we look at the sun, or any luminous body, thioiigh
the common coloured glasses, the transmitted light, though
tinged with one colour, nevertheless transmits rays of all
the other colours, as may be proved by decomposing it
with a prism. It was observed, however, by M. Monge,
and the observation has been subsequently confirmed by
M. Hassenfralz and M. Arago, that the glass of old churches
which has been stained either red or green by the oxide of
copper, has the surprising property of transmitting no-
thing but the homogeneous green or the homogeneous red
rays. This property will be of the greatest use in solar
observations, as it will remove completely the imperfec-
tions of telescopes arising from their difl'erent refrangi-
bilities. A telescope should be constructed with a com-
pound object glass, to destroy as much as possible tlie
aberration of sphericity. The red or green glass will
remove all the heterogeneous rays, and the most perfect
image of the sun will thus be obtained.

A series of new experiments have recently been made
upon glass by Dr Brewster, and the results which he has
obtained are of such a singular nature, as to lay the foun-
dation of a new science, analogous in its general character
to the sciences of electricity and magnetism. He has
shewn that when radiant heat is propagated along a plate
of annealed glass, its progress may be rendered visible by
exposing it to polarised light, a series of beautiful colour-
ed fringes advancing along the glass. The opposite edge
of the glass, however, where the radiant heat does not exist
in a sensible state, exhibits the same fringes, and conse-
quently it follows, that in its propagation along glass,
radiant heat possesses the singular property o( altering the
structure or the mechanical cotidilion of those fiarts of the
glass ivhtre it does not exist in a sensible state. When the
heal is uniformly difl'used over the plate of glass, all the
coloured fringes vanish. By a particular process which
we have not time to describe, he has succeeded also in
communicating a permanent structure to glass, similar to
that which it possesses during the propagation of radiant
heat. The pieces of glass that have been subjected to this
process, exhibit, by exposure to polarised light, the most
brilliant and varied colours, arranged in the finest geome-
trical forms, and infinitely superior, in point of beauty, to
arjy analogous production of art.

These plates of glass have exactly the same relative action
upon the particles of light, as a magnet has upon particles
of iron. The glass has a polarity as distinct as that of the
magnet, and a piece cut from one pole of the glass ac-
quires a new polarity, exactly similar to what takes place
by culling off a part of a magnet. The results which have
now been menlioned, lead also to the construction of a
chromatic thermomettr, which measures all differences of
temperature, up to the melting point of the glass which is
employed in its construction. A full account of these ex-
periments will be found in our articles Optics, Polahis.\-
1 ION, and Thermometer. For an account of the sounds
produced by glass, see Hakmonica.

GLASS Cutting. See Glass, Sect. VIII.

GLASS, Engraving on. See Etching.

GL.\SS, Gilding on. See Gilding.

GLASS Grinding. See Optics, Practical.

GLASS Tears. See Glass, Sect. IV.

GLASS Tubes, Rotation of. See Glass, Sect. IX.

774 CiLO

GLASTONBURY, a lown of Englaml in Somerset-
shiie, is situated in a low marshy counliy, and is almost sur-
lounded by the river Bruc and its branches. It consists of
two streets crossing each other in the direction nearly of
the four cardinal points, and the houses are built prmcipally
of the stones from its celebrated abbey. At the intersection of
the two streets stands tlie cross of Glastonbury, which con-
sisted of a large central column piercing the roof, and sus-
taining a naked figure ; and clustered columns at each
angle, with strangely shaped capitals and pinnacles. This
singular building has been allowed to fall into ruins, and
only a part of the central column now remains. The church
of St John the Baptist is a handsome building, with a lolty
tower, remarkable for its lightness and beauty. It contains
several monuments, and numerous marks of its former
splendour. The church of St Benedict, or the Lower
Church, is in no respects remarkable.

The ruins of the celebrated abbey of Glastonbury stand
on the south side of the High Street. It was originally con-
structed of wattles and wreathed twigs, and was afterwards
built of more substantial materials. Ina, king of the West
Saxons, demolished all the old buildings, and erected a
splendid monastery in honour of our Saviour ; and the
chapel which he added to it contained about 2640 pounds
of silver plating. The altar was adorned with gold to the
amount of SCO pounds weight; and the church plate was
set with jewels. The abbey suffered many subsequent
changes, and a very small portion of it now remains. The
great church is a heap of ruins. The chapel of St Joseph
is tolerably entire, and also the abbot's kitchen. Besides
the two parish churches, Glastonbury possesses two dis-
senting meeting-houses, two alms-houses, and a good free
school. A little way to the north-east of the monastery
stands the tower of St Michael, situated on the summit of
a high hill. The view of the tower from the plain below
is much admired. The principal manufactures of the town
are those of silk and silk stockings. The following is the
statistical abstract of the two parishes of St John and St
Benedict for 1811.

Number of houses 448

Number of families 499

Number of do. employed in agriculture . . . 255
Number in trade and manufactures . . . . 121

Males 1067

Females • 1270

Total population 2337

See CoUinson's History of Somersetshire ; Warner's
Western Comities ; and the Beauties of England and
Wales, vol. xiii. p. 484.
GLATZ. See Silesia.

GLAZING. See Porcelain and Pottery.
GLENDALOUGH. See Wicklow.
GLOBES, CONSTRUCTION OF. See Geography.
GLOBES, USE of the. See Geography.
GLOGAU. See Silesia.

GLOUCESTERSHIRE, one of the western counties of
England, is bounded on the north and north-east by Wor-
cestershire and Warwickshire; on the east, by Oxfordshire ;
on the south-east, by part of Berkshire and Wiltshire ;
on the south and south-west, by Somersetshire and the
Bristol Channel ; and on the west and north-west, by Mon-
mouthshire and Herefordshire. It stretches from north-
east to south-west, from the parish of Clifford Chambers,
near Stratford upon Avon, to Clifton, beyond the city of
Biistol, nearly 70 miles; and in breadth, from Lechlade
north-west to Preston, about 40 miles; but its general
breadth is not more than 26 miles. In circumference it is
about 155 miles. The form of the county is elliptical.
Its area has been variously estimated : by Sir Robert At-

GLO

kyns, in his History of Gloucestershire., and by the authoi
of the agricultural report, it is supposed to contain 800,000
acres. According to the returns to parliament of the p oo
rates, drawn up under tlie inspection of .Mr Rose, its area
is estimated at 718,080 acres. According to other state-
ments, it contains only 705,000 acres.

It is divided as follows : 1. Kifsgate division, which com-
prehends the north and north-east parts ; this is subdivided
into 8 hundreds: viz. Kiftsgale hundred, upper part, which
contains 20 parishes, and one market town. Chipping Cam-
den : Kiftsgate, lower part,wlii('h contains 19 parishes, and
one market town, Winchcomb : Slaughter hundred, upper
part, which contains 10 parishes, and one market tov/n.
Stow ; Slaughter hundred, lower part, which contains 13
parishes, but no market town : Tibbaldston hundred, con-
taining 3 parishes, and no market town : Cleeve hundred:
which contains only Clc-cve with its tythings : Cheltenham
hundred, containing 4 parishes, and one market town,
Cheltenham : Deerhurst hundred, containing 4 parishes
in the upper part, and 7 parishes in the lower part, but no
market town in either: Tewksbury hundred, containing in
the upper part 10 parishes, and in the lower 9, and one
market town, viz. Tewksbury : Westminster hundred,
containing in the upper part 4, and in the lower part 7 pa-
rishes. The second division is called Seven Hundreds Di-
vision, and contains the following hundreds; Cirencester
hundred, in which is only the town of Cirencester : Crow-
thorne and Minets hundred, containing 19 parishes, but no
market town : Brightwell's Barrow hundred, containing 12
parishes and 2 market towns, Fairford and Lechdalc : Brad-
ley hundred, containing 19 parishes, and one market town,
Northleach : Rapsgate hundred, containing 1 1 parishes,
but no market town : Bisley hundred, containing 7 parish-
es, and 2 market towns, Stroud and Painswick : Longtree
hundred, containing 1 1 parishes, and 2 market towns, Min-
chen Hampton, and Tetbury : Whitstone hundred, con-
taining in the upper part 9 parishes, and in the lower part
7 parishes, but no market town: Seven hundreds Division
lies to the south and south-west of Kiftsgate Division. The
third is the Forest Division, which is bounded on the west
by the river Wye; on the north-west by Herefordshire and
Worcestershire ; and on the east, partly by the two former
divisions, and partly by the Severn : this division contains
six hundreds; viz. Botloe hundred, which contains 9 pa-
rishes and one market town, Newent : Duchy of Lancaster,
which contains 5 parishes but no market town : Weslbury
hundred, containing 6 parishes and one market town,
Newnham : Biedcsloe hundred, containing 3 parishes, birt
no market town : St Briawl's hundred, which contains 12
parishes and two market towns, Mitchel Dean and Colford :
and Dudstone and King's Barton hundred, which in the up-
per part contains 10 parishes, in the middle part 11, and
in the lower 5 ; the city of Gloucester is in this hundred.
The last division of this county is Berkely Division, wliich
is bounded by the Severn on the west, part of Dudstone
and King's Barton hundred on the north ; Seven hundreds
division on the east, and the Lower Avon and Somerset-
shire on the south : Berkley division is subdivided in-
to 7 hundreds ; viz. Berkley hundred, the upper part of
■which contains 19 parishes and 2 market towns, Berkley
and Wotton under Edge, the lower part contains 6 parish-
es, but no market town : Grumbald's Ash hundred, the
upper part of whicli contains 1 1 parishes, and one market
town, Wickwar : and the lower part 10 parishes, and one
market town, Sodbury : Pucklechurch hundred, containing
5 paiishes, but no market town; B.irton Rup.'s hundred,
containing 6 pai ishes, but no market town : Langley and
Swine's Head hundred, the upper part of wiiica contains
4) and the lower part 5 parishes, but no market town :

GLOUCESTERSHIRE

775

Thoi'iibuiy hundred, the upper part of wliicli contains only
the niarkit town of Marshiicld ; and the lower part 5 pa-
rishes, and one market town, Thornbury ; and Haiibury
hundred, the upper part of which contains 5, and the lower
2 parishes, but no market town. Gloucestershire contains
one city, Gloucester, and part of another, Bristol ; it returns
eight members to Parliament, viz. two for the county, two
for Gloucester, two for Tewksbury, and two for Cirences-
ter. It is in the province of Canterbury, and diocese of
Gloucester, willi the exception of two chapel ries. It pays
12 parts of the land tax.

Cilouceslershire is naturally divided into three longitudi-
nal stripes or districts, which differ materially from one
another. The Coteswold district comprehends the whole
tract of hill country, from Chipping Camden northward to
Bath, and is often divided into the upper and lower Cotes-
wolds. This is a long tract of high ground, for the most
part bleak-and bare : the sides of this tract are extremely
beautiful as they sink into the vale, from the hills of Stinch-
combe and Nibley on the south, to that of Bredon on the
north. The vStroudwater hills form a tract connected witli
and similar to the Coteswold. The second natural divi-
sion of this county is the vale, which comprehends the
whole of the lowlands from Stratford upon Avon to Bristol ;
it is usually divided into the vales of Evesham, Gloucester,
and Berkley ; but as the Severn and the Avon are the na-
tural boundaries of it, it might more properly de divided
into the vales of Severn and Avon, the former compre-
hending all tlic low country between Tewksbury and Bris-
tol, and the latter the lowlands between the upper Cotes-
wold and the Avon from Tewksbury to Stratford. The
last natural division, which is by much the shortest of the
longitudinal stripes, is wholly varied with hill and dale : it
includes the parishes on the west side of the Severn up to
Gloucester ; and afterwards on the west side of the Ledcn,
till it enters Herefordshire ; this natural division is chiefly
occupied by the l-'orest of Dean, once reckoned the prin-
cipal support of the English navy, and which, it is said, the
Armadu was expressly commissioned to destroy : it is now
thinned very much, though a few solitary deer continue to
run wild in its remoter parts.

The climate of these different parts of Gloucestershire
varies considerably, though perhaps not so much as might
have been expected from the difference of their elevation,
cultivation, and soil, since the climate of the Coteswold
hills, considering their natural elevation and nakedness, is
unusually mild. The climate of the vale lands is perhaps
as genial as that of any district in England ; and that of
the forest district is by no means severe, so that Gloucester-
shire may justly be regarded as highly favoured in this re-
spect. The soil of the Coteswolds is for the most part a
shallow calcareous loam, on a stratum of rubble ; clay is
met with in some parts, especially on the declivities. The
soil of the vale is uncommonly rich, being either a fine
black loam, or a red loam of equal fertility. In all parts of
this district, except where the compact limestone rocks are
found, a blue clay forms the under soil. In most of the fo-
rest tlistrict, the soil inclines to sand, in general not of a
fertile quality : in the forest of Dean, a kind of peaty soil
prevails. The principal rivers io Gloucestersiiire are the
Severn, the Thames, and the upper and lower Avon. The
Severn enters the county near Tewksbury, where, uniting
its waters with those of the Upper Avon, and pursuing a
south-west course, it traverses a wide vale of uncommon
richness and beauty. Aliout a mile above Gloucester it
divides into two streams, which reunite a little below the
city, forming Alney island. Soon afterwards, the breadth
and deptli of the river are much increased by the streams
that fall into it, and its character becomes more bold and

picturesque. Near I'raniclodc it takes a northerly direc-
tion, forming nearly a semicircle in the next ten miles of
its course ; after this it gradually grows wider, till it re-
ceives the Wye near Chepstow and the Avon from Somer-
setshire, thus forming the Bristol Channel. In its passage
through Gloucestershire, it receives the Upper Avon, the
Chclt, the Lcdcn, the Frome, and the Lower Avon, near
Bristol. This river frequently overflows its banks, particu-
larly below Gloucester; in consequence of which, drains,
sea-walls, Sec. have been made, which are under the super-
intendance of a society called the commissioners of the
sewers. The Severn is remarkable for its tide, which rolls
in with an elevation of three or four feet. The Upper
Avon divides a small part of Gloucestershire from War-
wickshire, at the north extremity, and another small por-
tion from 'Worcestershire, near Tewksbury. The Thames
has its source in this county, about two miles south-west of
Cirencester ; it then enters Wiltshire, and again becomes
a Gloucestershire river at Kempsford, continuing the south-
ern boundary of it to Lcchlade, where it enters Oxfordshire.
The Wye divides part of Gloucestershire from Mon-
mouthshire and Herefordshire, and forms the natural west-
ern boundary to the forest of Dean. The canals in this
county are the Stroudwater, which begins at the town of
Stroud, and enters the Severn at Framilode : its width is
42 feet, its length nearly eight miles, and its rise above the
level of the Severn 102 feet. The Thames and Severn ca-
nal begins at Walbridge, where the Stroud navigation ends,
and joins the Thames at Lechlade ; its length is 28 miles;
its general breadth 40 feet ; its fall 130 feet. It runs by a
tunnel through Sapcrtow-hill. The Berkley canal, which
was intended to open a communication between Glouces-
ter and the Severn at Berkley, has not been completed.
The Hereford and Gloucester canal begins at Hertford, and
joins the Severn opposite to Gloucester; the total length
is 3s miles.

The mineral productions of this county are not very-
numerous or important, coal only excepted ; this is found
in abundance in almost every part of 13ean forest, where
there are not fewer than 150 pits : the lower parts of the
vale also abounds in coal, but of a less sulphureous qua-
lity than that of the forest. Iron ore abounds in the fo-
rest, but only a small quantity is raised. In this district
also a good compact limestone is found, but inferior to that
which forms vast beds at the southern extremity of the
county : the lime made from this stone is uncommonly
white and strong. Blue claystone is found in the vale, in
layers of from four to ten inches thick ; it is useful for
building : it contains a considerable portion of calcareous
matter. Freestone, of excellent quality, is raised from the
Coteswold quarries ; and paving stones and grits are found
in the forest ; of the latter, or<; of extraordinary hard-
ness and durability, deemed superior to any other for cy-
der mills. Stone tiles are raised in the Coteswold hills;
and in the parish of H^^nbury there is a fine bed of plas-
ter of Paris.

The principal mineral water is at Cheltenham, which,
for upwards of 30 years, has been much resorted to. Ac-
cording to the analysis of Dr Fothergill and other chemists,
its component parts are Epsom and Glauber salts, a small
portion of chalybeate, and some fixed air. It is particularly
efficacious in all disorders of the liver. See CHELXENHAiJ.

There are no very large estates in this county ; but the
nun)ber of yeomen who possess freeholds is very great.
About a fintieth part of the whole land is held under cor-
porations ; there is very little copyhold. The average
size of farms is small, though there are some large grazing
farms in the vale. Before the injudicious rise in the rent
of land, the average rent on the Coteswolds was, for ara-

776

GLOUCESTERSIUUfc:.

blc 15S. for iiasUiic 25s. ;icr acre. In the vale, for arable
20s. for pasture 30s. Ii) tlie forest district, for arable 20s.
for pasture 25s. per acre. Williin the last century, more
than 90 acts of parliament have been passed for the uiclo-
sure of waste and conunonablc lands in this county.

Of the implenienls of husbandry used in Gloucester-
shire, the waggon deserves particular notice, being, ui the
opinion of Mr' Marshall, the best farm waggon in the kmg-
dom. Its most sti iking peculiarity is that of hnvmga crook-
ed side-rail, bending archwise over the hind wheel; the
body is wide in proportion to its shallowness ; and the
wheels run very wide : its advantages therefore, in carry-
ing a top-load, are obvious. The old plough, with one
wheel, but shortened in the beam, is mostly used on the
Coteswolds; through the greater part of the vale, the old
swing plough is retained. There are but few thrashing
machines iii the county. A very useful cradle scythe is
used in the vale for cutting beans.

As the forest of Dean is still, comparatively speaking, a
waste, the agiicuKure of Gloucestershire must be sought
after in the other parts of the county. The vale of Glou-
cester is a rich vale district, equally abundant in grass
and corn ; the Coteswold hills is an upland arable district ;
and the vale of Berkley is a grassland dairy country. It
is computed that there are about 300,000 acres under till-
age in Gloucestershire. The most striking practice with
respect to the tillage land, is followed on the Coteswold
hills, where the crops are generally sown after one plow-
ing. Fallowing is practised on the strong vale lands. In
the open fields, below Gloucester, two crops and a fallow
are the general practice ; and three cro])s and a fallow
above that city. On the Coteswold hills turnips are sub-
stituted for a fallow, after which barley, grass for two years,
wheat, and oats, pease or vetches. AVheat is drilled and
planted in some parts of the vale lands; and is carefully
bowed while it is growing. The produce on the Cotes-
wolds averages 15 bushels, and in the vale nearly double
that quantity per acre. Barley forms an important crop in
the Coteswolds, but is seldom sown on the strong lands of
the vale. Oats are chiefly grown in the forest district. In
the management of all these crops there is nothing par-
ticularly striking or commendable; but in the entire man-
agement of the bean crop, Gloucestershire may afford a
valiiable les5on to almost every other part of the kingdom.
Beans are principally the produce of the clay soils of the
vale. In the ordinary practice of the district they are
planted by women, and hoed by women and children, al-
ways, twice, and sometimes thrice; they succeed wheat or
barley. The ground being ploughed nine or ten inches
deep, manure is seldom given. They are planted early in
February, by setting f>ins either across or down the ridges.
The quantity of seed is 9.J or 3 bushels. The distance be-
tween the rows from 10 to 1 4 inches ; the distance in the
rows about two inches ; the depth two inches. The pro-
duce varies from 20 to 40 bushels per acre. Pease are
principally grown on the Coteswolds. Tares, both winter
and spring, are grown in all parts of the county, and on all
soils. Turnips are pretty extensively cultivaied ; they are
seldom drilled, but always carefully hoed. Swedish turnips
are mostly confined to the rich lands of the vale ; both
kinds are almost exclusively given to sheep. Rye is grown
in abundance in tliat part of the forest district called the
Ryclands, but scarcely any where else. Potatoes are par-
ticularly attended to in the southern parts of the county.
The culture of flax and teasels has much declined within
these late years.

On the banks of the Severn, and the other rivers which
flow through the vale, there are very rich natural meadows

and pastures; their fertility principally arises from the mud
wliich is deposited upon them during the inundations.
The Avon is said to bring down the richest deposit from
the hills of Warwicksliire. The meadows on the banks
of the Severn, considerably below Gloucester, pi.rtake of
the nature of salt-marshes. For some miles above and
below that city, the meadows are mowed every year, and
the average produce is two tons per acre, though no ma-
nure is ever laid on thciii. Sainfoin has been cultivated
on the Coteswold hills for upwards of 150 years, and is
still a very general and uselul crop there: its duration,
however, is short, seldom more than ten years. The only
other artificial grass for which tuis county is remarkable
is Peacey's rye grass, which was first selected from the
finest meadows in the vallies of the Coteswolds, and is
now well known in almost every part of the kingdom. The
management of the stall is no where better attended to than
in Gloucestershire. The cattle usually fed are of the Here-
fordshire breed ; they are worked till tlicy are 6 or 7 years
old : when fat, they are sent eitner to Smilhfielu or Bristol
market. Great attention is also paid to the fattening of
calves. The piincipal breed of sheep in the county is
that of the Coteswold, large and coarse in the wool ; at
three years old weighing from 30 to 43 lbs. per quarter,
and affording a fleece of 9 or 10 lbs. The new Leicester
and the soulii Down arc also kept in many parts, and the
Ryeland in some parts of the forest district. Tlie real fo-
rest sheep are nearly extinct; these are very small, finely
formed, and with fine wool. Tin re is no peculiar breed of
horses in this county. The old Gloucestershire breed of
swine are now seldom kept.

We now come to the two most important objects of
Gloucestershire husbandry, its cheese and cider. Cheese
is made both in the vale of Gloucester and in the vale of
-Berkley ; or, as they are sometimes termed, the upper
and lower vales: but the management of the two vales
differ in one most material article, the quality of the milk.
In the lower vale, the milk is run neat from the cow ; in
the upper vale, the practice is to set the evenings milk for
cream in the morning, and to skim it, and then to add it
to the new milk of the morning's meal. The cheese made
from this mixture is termed two meal cheese ; that from
the neat milk, milk cheese, or best making. There are
other differences in the practices of the two vales. In the
vale of Gloucester, rye-grass is the predominant and fa-
vourite grass; in the vale of Berkley, the dog's-tail, with
a mixture of rye-grass, the poag and white clover. The
Gloucestershire breed of cattle, a variety of the middle
horned species, still predominate in both vales for the pur-
poses of the dairy ; though in the higher vale, long-horned
cows, from the improved stock of Bakewell, are often
kept ; few dairies, however, in either vale, are without
admixture. As soon as a " pack" or stock of cows is
formed, the first consideration is to mark out those inclo-
sures, the herbage of which is most favourable to the pro-
duction of good milk ; among the plants which are useless
or injurious, are white honeysuckle, crowfoot, and garlic.
About the first of May the pastures are ready to receive
the cows, and soon afterwards cheese-making commences:
great care is taken in the selection or preparation of the
rennet, and most minute and particular attciaion is paid to
the temperature at which the coagulation takes place most
kindly and equally. Previous to adding the rennet, the co-
louiing is put in. In some places, the curd is scalded;
where this is not done, a handful of salt is commonly
thrown on the curd, immediately after the whey has been
taken from it. The next operation consists in crumbling
the curd, and pressing it fine in the vat, which is done

GLOUCESTERSIUUE.

777

with great nicety, being tuincd and salted repeatedly. If
llie clicesc is small, this part of the process is continued
only tln-cc days. The cheese is then removed to the shelf,
and turned every day for a fortnij^hl; then every other day
for a fortnight more. At the end of this lime, it is tit for
the cheese loft : here it is turned twice a week, for three
weeks ; then the coat is scraped and coloured on the out-
side, or painted with carnation-red, mixed with water, and
rubbed on with llannel. About Michaelmas, the cheese-
factor examines the checbts by walking over and treading
upon each of them; those which yield to the tread are
said to be heaved, and are unfit for the London market.
The cheese of the hundred of Berkley is the most cele-
brated of all the Gloucestersliire cheese; what in the
kingdom at large is termed Gloucester cheese, particularly
double Gloucester, is in Gloucestershire called double
Berkley, not more on account of the superior quality ol
the cheese of this district, than because the principal part
of the thick cheese of Gloucestershire is made within
this hundred. It is calculated that a cheese of 1 1 lbs. re-
quires 15 gallons of inilk, or one gallon and one-third to
one pound of two meal cheese. The year's produce of a
cow is estimated at three hundred weight. The vale of
Berkley contains 50,000 acres, two-thirds of which are oc-
cupied by cows, to the number of 7000 or 8000 ; and their
annual produce of cheese is from 1000 to 1200 tons. As
connected with this subject, the whey-butter of the vale
of Berkley may be mentioned, which, if well made, and
eaten fresh, is superior to the milk-butter of many dis-
tricts : the produce of whey-butter is estimated at half a
pound a cow a week. See Dairy.

There are few orchards on the Coteswold hills, but in
the vale and forest districts, they are abundant and valua-
ble. Of the different kinds of cider made in this county,
the Sliie cider is deemed the best. The fruit from which
it is made, flourishes particularly on the thin lime-stone
soils on the margin of the forest of Dean. It is remark-
ed that the cider made from the Stire apple which grows
here, is distinguished by richness, sweetness and fulness
of flavour; whereas, the same apple in the vale of Glou-
cester, a strong, deep, rich soil, affords a liquor, whose
predominating qualities are roughness and strength. There
IS nothing peculiar in the mode of manufacturing cider in
this county. Of pears, tlie squash is in mucli tlie high-
est estedii: in the township of Taynton, on the Gloucester-
shire side of Mayhill, where the soil is a strong brown
clay, squashpear perry, of a very superior quality, is made.
It is said the perry of this district is the basis of most of
the wine sold for Champagne in the metropolis.

On the Coteswold hills, beech and ash are the principal
trees. In the vale, there are but few tracts of woodland.
'I'lie quantity of ground in Dean forest, belonging to the
crown, is upwards of 23,000 acres. It formerly supplied
about 1000 tons of ship timber annually. The forest is
under the government of a lord warden. At Tolworth, the
chesnut tree is still growing, which, according to Evelyn,
was 500 years old in the reign of King John. It was mea-
sured in 1791, when it was 44 feet and four inches in cir-
cumference. Till the year 1790, when it was burned dowc,
there was an oak growing at Bodington, the circurpiei"-
ence of which, at the ground, was 18 yards : the st>;ni was
hollow, forming a room more than 16 feet in d-'ametcr.

The wages of farm servants in Glouceste-'shire are not
high, but the allowance of drink is enon-'Ons ; six quarts
a day is the common allowance, frc'i^iently two gallons,
sometimes nine or ten quarts; drinking a gallon bottle full
of cider at a draught is said to be no uncommon feat. In
the immediate neighbourhood of the forest, coal, being
cheap and abundant, is the common fuel : in other parts of

Vol. IX. Part II.

the county, the Staflurdshirc and Shropshire coal is burnt;
but on the Coteswolds, all kind of fuel is scarce and dear.
The road.? of this, like most of the other western counties,
are by no means good; on the Coteswolds, the calcareous
grit is too soft for durable roads ; and there are still great-
er difficulties in the vale, from the nature of the soil, and
the extreme scarcity of materials. The compact lime-stone,
from St Vincent's rocks, makes the best roads ; but it is
very expensive.

The most considerable markets are those of Gloucester,
Cirencester, and Tewksbury ; they are abundantly supplied
with corn, meat, poultry, and the other necessaries of life.
The principal manufactures of the county aie those of wool-
len broad cloths, chiefly superfine, made of Spanish wool:
there are also fine narrow goods, in the stripe and fancy
way, made to a very great amount. The whole of these
manufactures are carried on in that district called the Bot-
toms. Of tills district, the town of Stroud may be regard-
ed as tlie centre, all the surrounding vallies exhibiting a
continued range of houses or villages, occupied by manu-
facturers. The waters of this district are peculiarly adapt-
ed to dyeing scarlet, blue, and black. At Cirencester, thin
stufl's of worsted are made : carpets are also made here.
At Tewksbury, the slocking- frame knitting is the principal
manufacture. Rugs and blankets are made at Dursley,
&c. Felt hats, for the Bristol trade, are made in several
villages. In the forest of Dean, there are extensive iron
works; at Framilore, there is a manufactory of tin-plate.
The other manufactures of the county arc iron and brass
wire, wire cards for the clothiers, pins, nails, and writing
paper. The articles of agricultural commerce are cheese,
bacon, cider, and perry. The salmon of the Severn is now
become scarce, but formerly it was caught in great abun-
dance, and sent to London and other places, where it always
obtained a very high price.

By the returns respecting the poor, presented to Parlia-
ment in the year 1803, it appears, that in this county at that
time, 33,113 persons were relieved in and out of work-
houses, at the expence of 3/. \s. 7id. per head, or 102,013/.
12s. 8(/. total; which, at a rental of 1,128,312/. gives about
Is. 9if/. in the pound per annum. By the same return, it
appears that there were, in 1803, 19,606 persons belonging
to friendly societies. In the year 1810, the number of fami-
lies employed in agriculture was 20,782 ; and in trade, ma-
nufactures, kc. 29,988. In the year 1700, the population
of the county was 128,341 ; in 1770, 161,693. In the year
1801,210,267; and in 1811,295,100. At this last period,
the number of people to a square mile was 263 ; and on an
average of years, there had been one baptism to 36 per-
sons; one burial to 61 persons; and one marriage to 120
persons.

The ancient Britons seem (o have had no peculiar name
for this tract of country, designating it and the whole ad-
joining low lands by the name of Duffin, which is said to
signify n vale. Ic was inhabited by the Cattieuchlani.
Whei; the Romans occupied England, the Dobuni seem to
ha'-e inhabited Gloucestershire. This county being di-
I'lded by the Severn, lay partly in Brittania Prima, and part-
ly in Brittania Secunda ; that on the sout!i-east side of the
river being in the former, and governed by the president
residing in London; whereas that part beyond the Severn
was in Brittania Secunda, and governed by the president
residing at Caerleon. The Saxons called the inhabitants
near this part of the Severn, Wiccii, from the Saxon Wic,
a cretk, because the river near its mouth is full of creeks.
During the heptarchy, it was a long time subject to the
West Saxons, but was afterwards included in Mercia. See
General Vieiv of the Agriculture of tlie County of Glou-
cester, by Thomas Rudge, B. D. Beauties of England

5 F

778

GLO

atid JValcs, vol. v. T/ic Rural Economy of Glouccsteraliire,
by W. Marshall, (j. s.)

GLOUCESTER City, is situated in Dudston and Kiii'^'s
Barton hundred, Clloticestcisliirc, 105 J miles west from Lon-
don. Tills city is situated in the valo of Gloucester, on a
gentle eminence, rising on the cast side from the river
Severn. Its situation, iiowevcr, thou!j;h it allbrds a fine ob-
ject to the hills around, is hy no means pleasant, the coun-
try around it partaking of little variety; and though its
walls are washed by the Severn, tliat river loses here niucli
of its dignity and interest, by being divided into two small
channels, with a long connecting causeway. Gloucester
has lately been much improved. Its four principal streets
are admired for the regularity of their junction in the cen-
tre of the town. The cathedral is a fine building ; its lolly
tower, and 4 transparent pinnacles, adorned with exquisite
fret work, make a conspicuous figure. Within, the high
roof and Gothic ornaments of the choir, form a noble con-
trast with the simple grandeur of the ponderous Saxon pil-
lars and arches which support the aisle. Its principal cu-
riosities, are the beautiful painted glass in the chapel of our
Lady; the whispering gallery; the tombs of Edward II.
who was murdered in Berkley Castle, and of Robert Duke
of Normandy, eldest son of William the Conqueror; and
the great bell, suspended in the first story of the central
tower. The walls surrounding Gloucester, in the time of
William the Conqueror, were completely demolished soon
after the Restoration, the only remains being the west gate,
standing on \h.c banks of the Severn, at the end of a stone
bridge of 5 arches, built in the reign of Henry II. This
bridge is connected on the west with a causeway of stone,
which extends through the low meads and isle of AIney to
the distance of about half a mile. The castle of Glouces-
ter, of which the remains were destroyed a few years ago
to make room for the county gaol, was probably erected
about the time of the Norman invasion, as the Domesday
Book mentions that 16 houses were taken down for its
scite. Camden states, that in his time it was for the most
part decayed. The county goal well deserves the inspec-
tion of the stranger. It was commenced, from the designs
and under the direction of Sir George Onesiphorus Paul,
Bart, a gentleman well known for his judicious and inde-
fatigable exertions in the cause of the best interests of so-
ciety, no where better exemplified than in the plan of this
structure, and in the code of laws which he drew up for its
government. Tlie gaol consists of 3 divisions ; the peni-
tentiary house, the bridewell, and the shertff''s prison.
These have all their distinct and appropriate regulations.
It contains 203 separate cells; 164 for sleep, and 39 for em-
ployment. At stated hours during the day, the prisoners
are permitted to enjoy the fresh air, in a court-yard 210 feet
long and 57 broad. The same class of prisoners only are
allowed to associate together. The internal economy is un-
der the management of the chaplain, govetnor, and sur-
geon, who act according to fixed rules, and who ore them-
selves subjected to the controul of the county magis'.i-ates.
There are besides a house of industry, and a county infiiina-
ry, under excellent regulations. Gloucester receives its
supply of water fioni springs about two miles to the soiuh ;
and it appears from ancient records, that an aqueduct was
carried thence to the city, upwards of 400 years ago. He-
sides the amusements common to all provincial towns, there
is in Gloucester, Worcester, and Hereford, a musical fes-
tival, established by the choirs of those cities, with the as-
sistance of the first performers in the kingdom. The pro-
fits are applied to relieve the widows and orphans of cler-
gymen. The meetings are held yearly, alternately in each
city, and continue for three days.

The principal trade of Gloucester arises from the pin
manufacture, and from the navigation of the Severn. Tnis
river is navigable to the wharf near the Ijridge for barges,
vessels of larger size being obstructed by the rocks anil
sand banks in the narrow channel near the cily. To reme-
dy this inconvenience, the Gloucester and Berkley canal
was begun, which was intended for the passage of ships of
400 tons burthen. There has also been a bell foundcry
here since the year 1500. Eor the last 150 years, this busi-
ness has centered in one family, who, in that period, have
cast upwards of 3000 bells. This city is the see of a
bishop. It returns two members to parliament, the num-
ber of electors being about 2000. It was anciently regard-
ed as a distinct hundred, and is still privileged as a county
within itself. The corporate officers consist of a mayor, 12
aldermen, a high steward, a recorder, a town clerk, 2 she-
riffs, 26 common councilmcn, and 4 sergeants at mace.
The population returns of 18 1 1, give the following results,
respecting this city :

Houses inhabited 1509

Families occupying them 1706

Houses building 15

Houses uninhabite<l 20

Males 3726

Females 4554

Total population 8280

GLOVER, Richard, an eminent English poet and po-
litical character, was born in St Martin's Lane, Cannon
Street, London, in the year 1712. His father was a re-
spectable Hamburgh merchant in the city.

Glover was educated entirely at Ciieam school, under the
Rev. Daniel Sanxay, having never studied at either of the
universities. At the seminary above mentioned, he distin-
guished himself by the rapidity of his progress, and ex-
hibited early specimens of his poetical powers. At the age
of sixteen, he wrote a poem to the memory of Sir Isaac
Newton, which was prefixed to the Vieiu of Sir Isaac ^Vfw-
?07i'« P/;i7oso/iA!/, published in 1728, by his friend Dr Pem-
berion. The seductive charms of literature, however, did
not allure him from the pursuits of commerce, to which he
was destined ; for, in due time, he embraced his father's
profession, and became a Hamburgh merchant; to which
he alludes at the commencement of his poem called Lon-
don.

The talents of Glover soon brought him into distinguish-
ed notice. In all matters regarding the interests of com-
merce, he took a lively and active concern. Nor did the
cares and duties of a life of business estrange hinr from the
study of poetry, for which he had shewn an early partiali-
ty. He cultivated the society of those men who were emi-
nent in politics, science, and literature, especially such as
belonged to the party in opposition to the administration of
Sir Robert Walpole; and he enjoyed the esteem and con-
fidence of several persons distinguished for their ra;ik and
talents.

On the 21st of May, 1737, he married Miss Nunn, who
brouo-bt him a fortune of 12,0u0/. ; and in the same month
be pubM^bed his Leonklas, an epic poem, in nine books,
which estdiiished his reputation as a poet. This poem
was extremely popular on its first appearance, but was, no
doubt, in a greai tneasure, indebted for its favourable re-
ception to the zealaos and enthusiastic applause of the par-
ty men in opposition to the court. Their extravagant zeal,
however, seems to have ultimately proved disadvantageous
to the legitimate pretensions of the author, by encouraging

GLO

exorbitant expectations, which the poem was not calculated
entirely to i^iatily; lor, although possessing great and ob-
vious Ijeautics, it lias since sunk into an unn>eiitcd neglect.

In 1739, he publishoil his London, or the Proip-ess of
Commerce ; upon which thcie followed soon after, his bal-
lad, entitled hosier's Ghost. Both these pieces appear
to have been written with a view to stimulate the nation to
resent the depredations of the Spaniards; and the latter
produced a considerable sensation.

During the last mentioned and subsequent yeare, Glover
took a very active part in the politics of the city ; and his
talents, his political knowledge, and his extensive informa-
tion ni matters regarding trade and commerce, placed him
so high in the estimation of his fellow-citizens, that he was
appointed to conduct the a|)plication of the merchants of
London to parliament, in 1741 and 1742, on the subject of
the neglect ol their trade. He accepted the office, and his
exertions were crowned with success. In summing up the
evidence, upon that occasion, he exhibited striking proofs
of his oratorical powers. On the death of Sarah, Dutchess
of Marlborough, in 1744, she left, by her will, 500/. each to
Glover and Mallet, to write the history of the Duke of
Marlborough's life. Glover, it is believed, very early re-
nounced his share of the bequest; and Mallet, though he
constantly promised, never made the least progress in the
performance of the task.

About this period, Glover's affairs became somewhat em-
barrassed, in consequence of unavoidable losses in trade,
and, perhaps, of too zealous an attention to the public in-
terests, to the neglect of his own private economy. For
this reason he determined to withdraw himself, for a time,
from public notice, until he should be able to put his af-
fairs into a more prosperous state. In the beginnirigof the
inonth of May 1751, he was drawn from his retreat by the
importunity of his friends, and condescended to stand can-
didate for the office of chamberlain to the city of London,
in opposition to Thomas Harrison, Esq. Unfortunately,
however, most of the Livery had engaged their votes be-
fore he declared himself; and after a few days, finding that
liis antagonist gained ground upon the poll, he gave up the
contest. Upon this occasion, he addressed the Livery in a
speech full of eloquence and manly resignation. In his re-
tirement, he finished the tragedy of Boaclicea, which he had
begun many years before; and in 1753, it was biought
upon the stage at Drury-Lane, and acted nine nights with
great success. In 1761, he |)ublished his Medea, a trage-
dy, taken from the dramas of Euripides and Seneca, and
professedly constructed upon the ancient plan, each act
terminating with a chorus. It was not acted till 1767; and
has since been often perlornicd with success.

Having at length surmounted the difliculties of his situa-
tion, Glover again relinquished the pleasures of retirement ;
and in the parliament which met at the accession of his
present Majesty, in 1761, he was elected member for Wey-
mouth, and sat till March 1768. In 1770, he jiublished a
new edition of Leonidas, corrected throughout, and extend-
ed from nine books to twelve. In 1772 and the following
years, he took a very active interest in winding up the com-
plicated concerns of Douglas, Heron and Company at Ayr.
He also undertook to manage the interests of the merchants
and traders in London, concerned in the trade to Germany
and Holland, and of the dealers in foreign linens, in their
application to parliament, in the montli of May 1774. In
1775, he assibted the West India merchants in their appli-
cation to parliament ; and examined the witnesses, and
summed up the evidence, in the same masterly manner he
had done on former occasions. For his assistance Apon this
occasion, he was complimented with a service of plate of

the value of 300/. The speech ho delivered to the House
was printed in the above-mentioned year.

Glovei' had now arrived at a p.riod of life which de-
manded relief from the cares of business. He therefore re-
tired to ease and independence, devoting himself princi-
Ijally to the exercise of private virtues aiifl domestic duties,
and to the pleasures of literature. He died at his house in
Albemarle Street, on the 25th of November 1735, in the
73d year of his age. Among other manuscripts, he left
behind him, T/ie jithcnald, a sequel to Leonidas- which was
published in 1788. He also wrote a sequel to his Medea,
which, however, has never been exhibited on the stage.

In his person and habits. Glover was a finished gentle-
man of the old school, slow and precise in his manner,
grave and serious in his deportment, and always in the
highest degree decorous ; but although his natural temper
was benevolent, he is said to have been at once irritable
and violent. He was very strict in his moral conduct ; and
although he was brought up in the principles of a difsen-
ter, he attended the established church. He appears to have
been an accomplished scholar; and it is evident from his
life and writings, that his mind was much devoted to poli-
tical subjects ; but he always avoided such topics of dis-
cussion in his own domestic circle. As a poet, Glovei' dis-
plays a cultivated mind, a poetical fancy, and a vigorous
and harmonious flow of versification ; but he appears to
have wanted that inventive imagination, and that higher
spirit of enthusiasm, which give birth to the noblest pro-
ductions of art. The chief defect of his /-fOM/f/aa appears
to consist in the subject : the historical facts ui)on which
the poem is founded, are too well known, and too sublime
and affecting of themselves, to adir.it of dilatation or em-
bellishment, without diminisliing the impression made up-
on the mind by the simple and unadorned recital.

Glover has been recently brought forward as a candidate
for the credit of the Letters of Junius. The hypothesis is
not without some plausibility ; and there arc certainly cir-
cumstances in his character and situation, which give con-
siderable support to his claim. But the presumptive proofs,
we think, have not yet been arrayed in such order, or stated
with such force, as to make the conjecture assume the ap-
pearance of probability. See Memoirs by a celebrated Li-
terary and Political Character, London, 1814 ; and, .4n In-
fjuiry concerning the Author of the Letters of Junius, with
reference to the iMctnoirs, Sec. London, 1814. (z)

GLOW-WoRjr. Several of the smaller animals are en-
dowed with the remarkable property of emitting light from
their bodies as night advances, which becomes impercepti-
ble on the approach of day : the creature can no longer be
distinguished from the myriads of beings around it. Eight
genera of insects are known to be luminous in the dark, in
wdiich is included the genus Lamjiyris of Linnasus ; the
male, a winged animal of the coleopterous order, but the
female is in general a worm, entirely destitute of wings,
and so unlike the other, that nothing less than the sexual
congress has been required to establish its kindred. This
is the common glow-worm, to which our attention shall be
briefly directed.

The Lampyris noctiluca, or glow-worm, is about three
quarters of an incli long, when full grown ; dark-brown
above, and yellowish-white below. It crawls on six feet,
and its body is divided into eleven segments, of which the
last eight constitute the abdomen. The head, which is ve-
ry small, round, and black, is concealed by the thorax,
while in a state of repose. The eyes, also black, arc large;
and the antenna;, which are filiform, to the naked eye con-
sist of eleven articulations, separated by white rin«;s. Nei-
ther wings nor their rudiments exist, and tiie animal ad-
5 F 2

780

GLOW WOTJM.

vances willi a very sluggish motion, frequenling liutnid
places, and living among the giubs. Naturalists coujcx-
turc, from its conformation, that it is carnivoruui. The
male of this species, which is exceedingly rare, and which
some of the most industrious enloniolos^isls have never seen,
is said to liave brownish elytra covering the wings ; but
the female is not only more numerous, but well known,
from depositing a cluster of eggs on twigs or straws ; and
the young animals pass through the state of a larva and
nymph, between which there is less dili'erencc than among
insects in general.

The glow-worm, remaining in concealment through the
clay, crawls abroad at night, when it appears surrounded by
a beautiful radiant light of considerable intensity, and of a
greenish colour. It is most brilliant two or three hours he-
fore midnight; and an elegant and interesting spectacle is
presented by collecting several together in a glass vessel.
More powerful emanations illuminate the animals ; some-
times the light is suddenly extinguished, sometimes it
shines at protracted intervals, while the motion of the in-
sects produces perpetual variety : but it always grows fain-
ter and fainter, and at last it almost totally disappears.
The observer, in the course of his examination, discovers,
that the exhibition and intensity of the light are partly un-
der the controul of the glow-worm ; that the place from
which it emanates is in the last three rings of the abdomen ;
and that it ceases entirely with the death of the animal,
though a severed portion will continue to be illuminated,
and after extinction the light will at a moderate interval be
renewed.

The three rings, while illuminated, are of a pale yellow-
ish colour, and their internal surface is spread over with a
layer of peculiar soft yellow substance, whose consistence
resembles paste. The whole interior, however, is not
covered, as it is more or less deficient along the inner edges
of the rings, where it forms an irregular waving outline.
We compare this substance to paste ; but, when magnifi-
ed, it is found to be organised like the common interstitial
matter of the animal's body, except that it is of a closer
texture and paler yellow ; and the segments of the abdo-
men, behind which it is situated, are thin and transparent,
on purpose to expose the internal illumination. Several
years ago. Count Razoumousky, a learned Polish natural-
ist, discovered that, besides the rings, there were luminous
points in the abdomen, giving out a more permanent light ;
and the ingenious experiments of Mr Macartney prove,
that two minute bodies, endowed with this property, are
lodged in two slight depressions in the shell of the last ring.
By the microscope, these are found to consist of two sacs,
containing a substance similar to that lining the inner sur-
face of the rings ; and the membrane composing the sacs
is so strong and elastic, as to resume its figure after the
contents are discharged. The light thence proceeding is
less under the coritroul of the insect than that of the lumin-
ous substance disseminated over the rings : it is rarely dis-
tinguished even through the day, during tlie season that the
glow-worm gives out light. The presence of these two
bodies seems alluded toby Mr Waller, in the Philosojjhical
Transactions, so long ago as the year 1584, when speaking
of those species of lampyri-Jes, both male and female of
which are winged ; and Thunbcrg mentions one found in
Japan with two vesicles on the extremity. The former
describes their site as under the termination of the tail ;
and observes, that t'le winged insects are extremely rare in
England.

The luminous substance, when extracted from a dead
glow-worm, gives out no light, though the sacs, when cut
from the living animals, shine several hours after separa-
tion j and, if put into water, they will emit light uninter-

ruptedly for forty-eight hours. Whether they contain
greater heat than the other parts of the animal, as a suffi-
cient number have never yet been accumulated to prove
the fad by cxpeiiment, is not altogether free of doubt. John
Tcmi)ler, one of the earliest English observers of the na-
ture of llie glow-worm, says, " If my senses fail me not, she
emits a sensible heat in her clear shining." Mr Macart-
ney also thought that, when shining brilliantly, the luminous
rings communic.ited the sensation of warmth to the hand ;
but, from remarking that the heat of the surrounding at-
mosphere, GQ'", was not raised more than to 75° or 77°, on
introducing a very sensible thermometer among several
glow-worms, he concluded, that the actual difierence of
heat was insufficient to warn him of its presence. Some-
limes, however, the luminous portion of the tail seemed to
raise the thermometer more quickly than other parts of the
body ; and on cutting it off several animals, he found, that
if the thermometer were immediately applied, it would rise
one or two degrees ; but that no effect whatever was pro-
duced after these parts v/ere dead, though they continued
to give out light. It ought to be kept in view, that many
erroneously believe insects are entirely destitute of heat,
whereas its presence is sufficiently demonstrated by ac-
cumulating a number together in a limited space.

Besides the glow-worm properly so called, an insect
wanting wings, there are several of the genus provided
with them, and then generally denominated 7ire;/?!f«. In
the hot climates, thousands shoot across the eye, and sparkle
in the woods and bushes during night, with the most beau-
tiful and brilliant illumination. Some, resembling so many
specks, are not larger than the common house-fly ; others
are above half an inch long ; and several, collected in a
glass vessel, emit sufficient light for reading a book. All
arc of the coleopterous tribe : both sexes have wings, and
the emanations proceed from the last segments of the tail.

Some general conclusions have been drawn regarding
the nature of luminous animals, most of which apply to the
glow-worm :, and first, that this property is not constant,
but exists only at certain periods, and in particular states
of the animal's body. The site of its emanations, also, re-
sides in a particular substance, compared to paste ; and the
light is differently regulated while that substance is in the
animal's living body, or separated from it. In the former
case, it is intermitting: it is commonly produced or aug-
mented by a muscular effort, and is sometimes absolutely
dependent on the will of the insect. In the latter case of
separation, the luminous exhibition is usually permanent,
until becoming extinct, after which it may be restored di-
rectly by friction, concussion, and the application of
warmth. No diminution of the substance follows the ex-
hibition of light, however long it may be protracted. It
does not require the presence of pure air, nor is it extin-
guished by other gases. The luminous appearance of
living animals is not exhausted by long continuance, or fre-
quent repetition, nor is it accumulate<l by exposure to na-
tural light. From these principles, it is inferred, that this
property not being dependent on any foreign source, is in-
herent in a peculiarly organized animal substance, and is
regulated by the same laws which govern all the other
functions of living beings.

Many conjectures have been indulged regarding the use
of the light exhibited by luminous animals. Some have
boldly declared, that it is for no specific purpose ; others,
more prudently, aflirm that it is utterly unknown : while a
tiiird class, substituting opinion for experiment, at once de-
cide that, in the glow-worm at least, it is a wise provision
cf nature for promoting the concourse of the sexes. Un-
doubtedly this reason at first sight is plausible ; but it ought
to have been previously ascert.iined, that the male, while

GLU

781

flying through the air, is sensible of the luminous emana-
tions from the body of his grovelling mate. Wc know
little of the different senses of insects ; hearing seems al-
together denied to certain species, and others are void of
any external organs of sight : but what is more extraordina-
ry, neither the number nor size of tlie eyes apparently in-
crease the acuteness of vision. It ougiit constantly to be
preserved in remembrance, that the beautiful structures
of the bee are erected, and all its complicated operations
performed in the dark ; but that other organs, and especial-
ly the antennae, are constantly resorted toby them as a guide.
Emanations undoubtedly proceed from the bodies of fe-
males at certain periods, which produce a lively impression
on the sensations of the male, and we should be inclined to
admit that there might be some analogous concomitant of
the luminous exhibition of the female glow-worm ; but
the probability of this hypothesis is greatly diminished, on
considering, that the emanations of light belong to the
earliest period, even when the insect is in the larva state.
We must therefore necessarily conclude, that naturalists
have not yet discovered the real uses of this remarkable
property.

See Bartholinus de luce Animalitim ; Phitosofihical
Transactions^ vol. vi. p. 2178 ; vol. xv. p. 841 ; De Geer,
Me7noires stir les Jnsecles, tom. iv. p. 29 ; Aldrovandus,
De Insectis, p. 494 ; Geoffrey, Mem. sur les Insect, tom. i.
p. 166. (c.)

GLUCKSTADT, a word signifying the Fortunate
Town, is a town of Germany, in the Duchy of Holstein,
and belonging to the King of Denmark. The town, which
is situated on the Elbe, where it receives a small river
called the Rhu, is regularly and neatly built; and the
principal streets run into the market-place. The town is
intersected by several canals, the principal one of which
passes near the market-place, and is there joined by ano-
ther, which divides the town into two parts. From the marshy
nature of the surrounding country, the road from the town to-
wards Krempe, passes over a stone causeway, nearly three-
quarters of a mile long. The town, therefore, can be easi-
ly laid under water on the land side. As there are no
springs here, every good house is provided with a cistern,
and the poor are supplied with water from the harbour in
the new moat. There is a free grammar school here, a
Calvinist church, a Roman Catholic chapel, and a Jewish
synagogue.

The foundations of this town were laid in a waste called
the Wilderness, in 1617, by King Christian IV. ; who, with
the view of making it a commercial town, granted it par-
ticular privileges. I-"rederick III. increased these privi-
leges, and made it the entrepot of all the merchandize of
Iceland which came into the Elbe. The vessels of Gluck-
sladt carried their merchandize to Altona and Hamburg. In
1738. Christian ^'I. founded a commercial college here;
and in 1739 a house of correction and a workhouse were
founded. In 1750, Frederick V. instituted a commission
for clearing and upairing the harbour. The King of Den-
mark declared G luckstadt a free port, and abolished the
duties which vessels had formerly paid in passing the town.
In 1782, a co;nmercial company was formed, to which the
king granted an octroi for thirty years. Its capital was
200 000 rix-dollars, and it was chiefly engaged in the coast-
ing trade and the w hale fishery. Distance from Hamburg
28 miles north-west.

GLUE, is a tenacious cement, principally used by ca-
binet-makers, joiners, book-binders, case-makers, and hat-
ters.

The substances from which glue is made, are the shreds
or parings of hides ; the cars before they are immersed in
the tanner's vats; the cuttings and raspings of horn, from

the comb-maker, the button-maker, and the horn lanthcrn-
makcr ; and the hools and horns of oxen, calves, and sheep,
from the butcher; the pells of the hare, rabbit, beaver,
!kc. from the hat makers, bcaver-ctilicrs, and furriers;
and the parings of vellum and parchment from the while
leather dresser, glover, he.

These substances are indiscriminately mixed together,
and are purified from all grease and ditt by digestion in
lime water, the greatest care being taken to remove eve-
ry piece that is in the slightest degree putrescent. The
materials are next steeped and washed in clean water,
with freciuent stirring, and are afterwards laid in heaps,
and the water pressed out. They are then boiled in a large
brass kettle with clear water, the fat and dirt being con-
stantly skimmed off as they rise, and when the whole is
dissolved, a little melted alum or finely powdered lime is
added. After the skimming has been continued for some
time, the whole is strained through baskets, and suffer-
ed to settle, in order that the retraining impurities may
subside, and the fat rise to the top. The impurities and
fat being removed, it is then returned into a clean kettle,
and suffers a second evaporation and skimining. When
it acquires a clear darkish brown colour, and a sufficient
consistence, which is known by the appearances during
ebullition, it is lifted out by a scoop, into frames or moulds,
about six feet long, one foot broad, and two deep, where
it is allowed to cool gradually. It is then cut by a spade
into square cakes, and each of these is afterwards divided
into three pieces, by an instrument like a bow, having a
brass wire for its string. The pieces thus cut are dried
in the open air, on a kind of net-work, (generally old her-
ring nets,) fastened in moveable sheds of four feet square,
each containing six or eight rows of net-work. When
the glue is dry, each piece is rubbed gently with a wet
cloth, to give it that glazed appearance which the London
glue always possesses. The different pieces are then
packed carefully up in separate rows in barrels or hogs-
lieads, and are ready for sale.

The best glue swells considerably, without melting, by
three or four days immersion in cold water, and recovers
its dimensions and properties by drying. When glue looks
thick and black, or has got frost in the drying, it should
be melted over again with a sufficient quantity of fresh
glue. Good glue is distinguished by its having a strong
black colour, and by being free of cloudy and black spots,
when held between the eye and the light.

In France, glue is made from w hole skins, which, when
fresh, are steeped 24 hours in large tubs; but a longer
time when they are dry. They are then placed upon hand
barrows, formed of strong basket work, to allow the wa-
ter to drain off, and are afterwards well washed in a run-
ning stream, where they are shaken in baskets with a long
toothed rake, till the water runs through them quite clear.
The materials are now steeped in weak lime water, the
liquor being refreshed every 15 cl-iys with a bucket of fresh
lime water, and the skins being occasionally turi.cd. By
this process, the grease is removed, and the skins con-
verted nearly into the stale of parchment. The parts of
the mateiials that still ret.)in the hair, require a stronger
lime water. The skins are again steeped and drained in
hand barrows, and sometimes the water is squeezed out
of them by a press. The skiob are now thrown into the
kettle, which has sometimes stones at its bottom, and
sometimes a wooden grate, to prevent the skins from slick-
ing to it. The boiling is carried on' very caulioualy and
gradually, and the evaporation is known to have been suf-
ficiently great by dropping a little upon a plate, and find-
ing it of the proper tenacity. The glue, when hot, is then
filtered through a bed of long straw, into a tub, the ope-

782

GOA

GOL

ration being pcifomied in a warm place, iu order lo pre-
vent tlie glue from congealing. In this tiili tlic glue is
left to refine for two or llirec hoiiis, and wlicn slill fluid
it is run olT by stop cooks, al diBcrcnt hciglils, into wet
wooden boxes, where it congeals. The glue which Hows
from the dilTercnt stop cocks, liasdifl'ercnl degrees of fine-
ness, the uppermost being the purest. After lying 24
hours in the boxes, the cakes are taken out, divided, dried,
and packed up for sale.

Glue has also been successfully prepared from the
bones of animals. Parmenticr found that 6 pounds of but-
tonmaker's raspings yielded a pound of glue not inferior
to the English glue. Glue from ivory was less transpa-
rent. See Jntiales itc C/iimie, vol. xii. p. 292,

GLUTEN. Sec Cuemistry.

GMELIN. See Bot.vnv, Hiscorij of.

GNEISS. See Mineralogy.

GNOMON. See Astronomy and Dialling.

GNOSTICS. Sec Ecclesiastical History.

GOA, the principal Portuguese settlement in the East
Indies, is situated in 15° 28' North Latitude, and 72" 45'
East Longitude ; and is built upon an island, called by
the natives Tissoari, about 25 or 30 miles in circumfe-
rence. This island is separated from the continent by a
navigable river, about three miles broad at its widest part;
and, though generally barren and hilly, it contains many
level and fertile spots. At the entrance of the harbour is
the new city of Goa, where the viceroy and principal Por-
tuguese inhabitants reside, and is defended by several for-
tresses, particularly one called the Alguarda, which stands
close to the shore, and is so situated that every sliip sail-
ing up the river must pass near its walls. About eiglit
miles beyond this castle, is the old city of Goa, the seat
of the inquisition, and the residence of the ecclesiastics,
built in the form of an amphiiiieatre on several eminences,
and almost surrounded by hills, finely clothed with wood.
The harbour is a noble basin, presenting on every side the
richest and most magniticent scenery. The city of Goa
was first taken from the Hindoo Rajahs by the Chamenee
sovereigns of the Dcccan, about the year 1469; and was
reduced under the power of the Portuguese by the cele-
brated Albuqvierque in the year 1510. It soon became the
most flourishing European settlement in India, but the
Portuguese never possessed any considerable extent of
territory in its vicinity. Its walls inclosed a compass of
nearly twelve miles; and few cities in India or Europe
were belter built, or more strongly defended. It was
crowded with monasteries ; and at one time, not less than
30. 000 ecclesiastics are said to have resided wi;hin its dis-
trict. These, however, soon began to apply themselves
more ardently to tiie acquisition of wealth, than to the in-
struction of the natives; and established in the place the
tribunal of the Inquisition, which continued till very re-
cently to exercise all its cruelties upon the Hindoo con-
verts.* The town has been rapidly falling into decay since
the middle of the hist century, and presents a most strik-
ing instance of ruined grandeur. The banks of the river
are still covered with country houses, and many of these,
especially the monasteries, from their elevated situatior:,
make a magnificent appearance. The streets are straight
and regularly built; the houses are large and handsome;
and the number of its churches, palaces, and public build-
ings, excites, at a distance, the idea of an imperial resi-
dence ; but a nearer approach disappoints the expectations
of the stranger, and ex liibits a melancholy picture of wretch-
edness and ruin. The churches and monasteries, the of-
fice of the inquisition, and a few other public structures,

arc still kept in good repair, i)aiticularly the church of
San Caitan, which is a beautiful spccinicn of Italian ar-
chitecture ; the convent of the Augustine monks, which
is .1 handsome edifice; the Jesuits college, which is
very large and conspicuous ; the church of Francis Xa-
vier, the chapel of which, containing the monument of the
saint, is uncommonly splendid, and the tomb is ornament-
ed with basso lelievos composed of the choicest marbles,
by European artists, representing his history and mira-
cles. Uut more than one half of the houses and adjacent
country scats are void of irdiabitants; the most magniti-
cent palaces mouldering into ruin ; the streets faintly trac-
ed by the remains of forsaken mansions ; the squares and
market-places depopulated and silent, and actually filled
with noxious reptiles. The few human inhabitants are
priests, monks, half-starved soldiers, and low mechanics;
and so great is their poverty, that women of the best fa-
milies earn their subsistence by working lace or muslin,
and making artificial flowers. One of the most celebrated
productions of Goa is the Alphonso mango, a delicious
fruit, superior to all others of the same species. It has
long been famed also for its arrack, which is made from
the juice of the palm-tree, and for its cocoa-nut oil. Rice,
arrack, and oil, iixleed, form the principal articles of its
now limited commerce. Two or three ships arrive an-
nually from Portugal with military stores, and other arti-
cles ; and carry back printed cottons from Surat, a few
spices, &c. Two or three trading vessels take in cargoes
for China; and a few coasters collect the produce of the
Malabar ports, in older to supply the ships from Portugal
with their home cargoes, and to answer the demands of
the inland trade from Goa. There are a few armed ves-
sels for the protection of the traders. Goa is 292 miles
from Bombay, 1300 fiom Calcutta. 575 fiom Madras, and
325 from Seringapatam. See Alod. Univ. Hint. vol. ix. ;
Parson's Travels iyi Ania and jlfrica; Forbes's Oriental Me-
moirs; Hamilton's East India Gazetteer; and Buchanan's
Christian Researches in ./Isia. {</)

GOAT. Sec Mammalia.

GOBELINS, Ta/iestrij Mam/facture at, See France,
Vol. IX.

GOBIN, St, Glass Manufactory at, Sec France, Vol.
IX.

GOD. See Theology.

GOITRE. See Medicine.

GOLCONDA, a province of Deccan, a district in In-
dia, comprehends the tract of country between the rivers
Kistnah and Godavery in 17° North Latitude; and extends
about 200 miles fiom north to south, and 220 from west to
east. It is bounded on the north by Berar, on the south
by the kingdom of Mysore, on the west by Visiapour, and
on the east by the northern circars. It was formerly a por-
tion of a very extensive empire, which comprised all the
peninsula from the north extremity of Orissa to Cape Co-
iilorin. It was anciently called Tellingana; and it is some
evidence of its original extent, that the Tellinga language
is at present in use from the river Pennar in the Carnatic
to Orissa along the coast, and lo a considerable distance
inlarcd. It was reduced under the power of Aurcnzebe in
1687; and now forms the principal possession of the Ni-
zam or Soubah of the Deccan. Its ancient capital was
V/araiigole or Oringal, about 400 miles fiom Madras, the
site of which is indicated by an old rampart of great ex-
lent, within which a modern fortress is erected ; but the
present metropolis is Hydr.ibad, about fifty miles to the
south-west, a large walled town, situated in a delightful
plain on the banks of the river Moussy, 902 miles from

See Relation de I'liu/uisilim de Gia, par Dillon ; and Bucliaiian's C'hii:tian Researdus in .4sia.

GOL

783

Calcutta, 352 from Madras, and 480 from Bombay : (Sec
Hydrabad.) About six miles nortli-ncst from tins town
stands ilie celebrated fortress of Golcoiula, which skives
name to the province, and is deemed impregnable. It oc-
cupies the summit of a hill, of a conical form, and is ol
such extent as to deserve the name of a city. It was an-
ciently the residence of the kings of (iolconda; and the
tombs of many of them arc still to be seen in the midst of
gardens at a short distance from the fortress.* 'J'he coun-
try of Golconda is extremely fertile, and produces abun-
dant crops of rice and other grain. Vines arc very plen-
tiful, and a white wine is niatle of the grapes, which are
ripe in January. The wet or winter season begins in June,
and continues till January ; when the great heats com-
mence. But it is chiefly celebrated for its diamond mines,
which are generally adjacent to the ridges of rocks run-
ning through the country. The principal of these mines
are in the neighbourhood of Raolcondo and Culloor, the
last of which places is about 1 10 miles east of Hydrabad,
and is situated in the midst of barren, rocky plains. The
diamonds are sometimes found scattered in the earth, with-
in two or three fathoms of the surface ; and in other places
they are bedded in the body of the rock, at a depth of 40
or 50 fiithonis. For a particular account of these mines,
see P/iiloso/i/iical Transactions, vol. xii. or of the Abridg-
merit, vol. ii. See also Mod. Univ. Hist. vol. vi. ; Ken-
nel's Mtm. of a Mafi of Hindustan ; and Tavernier's Tra-
vels ((/)

GOLD. See Chemistry, Gilding, Gold-Beating,
Mineralogy, Money, and Wire Drawing.

GOLD-Beating is the art of reducing gold to extreme-
ly thin leaves, for the purposes of gilding. The gold em-
ployed for this purpose must be pure. It should be melt-
ed in a crucible, with a small quantity of borax, and cast
into small bars, or thin flat ingots, about -ths of an inch
wide, and weighing two ounces each. These are extend-
ed to long plates, by rolling them in a flatting-mill, until
they become lengthened out like ribbands, and very thin.
To effect this, the ingot must be passed between the rol-
lers a great number of times; and to correct the hardness
which the repeated rolling at length produces, the metal
must be occasionally annealed, by heating it to redness, and
suffering it to cool gradually.

The rollers employed for this process should be of a
most perfect cylindrical figurei and have a highly polished
surface. They should be of a large size, that they may
not yield or bend ; for the ultimate perfection of the gold
leaf depends very materially upon the precision with which
every part of the ribband is reduced to an equal thickness.
Formerly the reduction was wholly effected by hammer-
ing : in course of time, a small hand flatting-mill was used
to finish the work, after u considerable extension had been
produced by the hammer ; but at present the most improv-
ed practice is to have the rolling done at a flatting-mill,
where, by following a similar process to that which we
have described under the article Coining, a ribband can
be produced which will contain very nearly the exact
weight required for a given surlace. The gold-beater ge-
nerally orders this to be at the rate of very nearly 6l grains
to a square inch; and the woikman who conducts the
rolling, shews his care in coming as near to this as possi-
ble. Still much depends upon the goodness of his machi-
nery, and also upon the regularity of the ingots in the first
instance.

The moulds for casting the ingots should be made of
cast-iron, and the internal surface rather concave, because.

in cooling, the metal contracts more in thickness at the
centre than at the outside. The moulds are heated, and
rubbed with linseed oil, or tallow, on the inside, previous
to pouring in the metal.

The ribi)and Ijcing thus prepared, the gold-beater cuts
it up with shears into small squares of an inch each, and
having previously divided it rather accurately by com-
passes, the pieces will all be very nearly of an ecjual
weight, which is about 6" grains for the ordinary gold
leaves, but is more or less, as the leaves arc intended to be
thicker or thinner. In order to beat out these squares to
greater extent, they are made up into a parcel of about
150, with a leaf of fine calf-skin vellum interposed be-
tween each square, and about 20 leaves extra at the top
and bottom of the parcel. The vellum leaves are about
four inches square, and the plates of an inch square are
carefully laid in the centre. In order to retain the packet
together, it is thrust into a case of strong parchment,
which is open at each end, so that it is only a belt or band,
but sufficiently broad to cover the whole packet, except
the two ends ; and to secure these, a second case is drawn
over the packet in the opposite direction. By this means
the packet is rendered sufficiently firm and compact to
bear beating with a large hammer of 15 or 16 pounds
weight, the face of which is circular, nearly four inches
diameter, and so much convex as will make it strike more
forcibly upon the centre of the square packet, and extend
the small square plates regularly.

The beating is performed upon a very strong stool, or
bench, framed to receive a block of marble, or other hard
stone, which is about nine inches square on the surface,
and as heavy as can be procured ; the wood-work is car-
ried up round the stone in the form of a ledge, rising on
the two sides and at the back ; and to the front edge is
nailed a kind of apron, which the workman takes before
him, to preserve any fragments of gold which may come
out of the packet. The handle of the hammer is very
short, and the workman manages it with one hand: he
strikes fairly upon the middle of the packet, which he fre-
quently turns over to beat the opposite side, but this he
does in the interval between two strokes, without losing
his blow. He keeps up a constant beating, and when fa-
tigued with one hand he dexterously changes the hammer
to the other, whilst the hammer is elevated in the air, and
without any loss of time or force. The packet is occa-
sionally bent, or rolled between the hands, to loosen the
leaves, and render the extension of the gold more free;
and the packet is sometimes taken to pieces to examine
the gold, and the centre leaves put at the outside, by
which means the spreading of the gold will be equal
throughout the packet. The beating is continued until
the gold plates are increased to nearly the same size as
the pieces of vellum ; they are then taken out of the
packet, and each cut into four squares, by a knife drawn
across them in two directions. Tliis reduces the plates to
about the same size as at first, and they are again made up
for a second beating, in a packet of about the same thick-
ness as the former; but instead of vellum, skins about
five inches square, prepared from the intestines of an ox,
are interposed between each. The packet is made up in
cases in the same manner as before described. The second
beating is performed with a smaller hammer, of about ten
pounds weight, and is continued until the leaves are ex-
tended to the size of the skins. The folding of the packet
must be frequently repeated duruig this beating, to leave
the gold as free as possible between the skins ; because the

* Within the fort itself, the principal inhabitants and bankers of Hydrabad are permitted by the Nizam to possess houses, to which;,
upon any alarm, they retire, with their treasiu'es and families.

784

GOL

leaves begin now to be very clelicalc, and arc easily broken,
if the beating is not very carefully i)crfornied. The leaves
arc spread upon a cushion, and attain divided into tour, by
means of two pieces of cane cut to very sharp edsjes, and
fixed upon a board, crossing each other at right angles.
This cross being applied upon each squaic leaf, and
pressed upon it, will divide it into four equal portions,
whicli are made up into a third packet of convenient
thickness, and once more extended to the size of the in-
tended leaves, which is about three inches, or three and a
half square. In this state the leaves will be extended to
192 times the surface which the plates had before the beat-
ing was begun. As these plates were each an inch square,
and 75 of them weighed an ounce, the surface of the ulti-
mate leaves will be 192X 75^: 14400 square inches, or 100
square feet per ounce. This is by no means so thin as
they may be made, for it is very practicable to extend an
ounce to 160 square feet; but the waste arising from the
great number of broken leaves, and the increase of labour,
renders it of very little advantage to the gold-beater to
reduce them to a greater thinness; and to the gilder such
thin leaves are less valuable, both because they make less
durable work, and are so liable to break and waste in lay-
ing them on.

The leaves when finished are put into small books made
of single leaves of soft paper folded, but without sewing,
and the surface of the paper is rubbed with red chalk to
prevent the leaves adhering. Before putting the leaves
into these books, they are taken one by one, with a pair of
delicate pincers, out of the packet of the last beating, and
spread out upon a cushion of leather, by blowing them
flat; then, to cut them all to the same size, a piece of
square board is applied, which has four sharp edges of
cane glued upon it. These edges being pressed upon the
gold, cut it to the size desired, which is generally 3^ inches
square. The books are made up to contain 25 leaves each,
and in this state they arc ready for the gilder.

The extension of the gold during the latter beating de-
pends greatly upon the nature of the membrane or skin
which is interposed between the leaves. The preparation
of these skins is kept a secret by the few individuals who
furnish them to the gold-beaters. Dr Lewis describes
them as being made from the skins of ox-gut, stripped off
from the large straight gut cut open. A number of these
membranes are laid with the smooth sides together whilst
in a moist state, and will adhere together: they are then
stretched in a frame, and the fat and loose skin carefully
scraped off, so as to leave only the fine exterior membrane
of the gut. Afterwards they are beaten between leaves of
soft paper to absorb the grease, moistened with infusions
of strong spices, and are lastly dried and pressed flat. Be-
fore being used, they are rut>bed over with a pounce, com-
posed of plaster of Paris, which is rubbed strongly with a
hare's foot, to prevent the gold from adhering to the mem-
brane, which is very thin but tough, and so transparent,
that small print inay be read through it. The skins will
serve for beating seventy or eighty times ; but at length
the gold will not extend well between them. It is said in
the French £ncyclo/iedie, that their virtues may be again
restored, by placing them between papers wetted with
vinegar or white wine, beating them for a whole day, dry-
ing them, and then rubbing them again with the pounce.
It is also recommended to dry and press the skins every
time bel'uie they are used.

The Dutch manufacture a false gold leaf, which is made
of brass covered with gold. The brass is reduced to a
fine thin ribband, by laminating in the same manner as we
have described for the gold. The ribband is then gilded
by the wash gilding process, and afterwards cut up into

pieces, which arc beat out into leaves, by the same means
that are used for gold beating ; but the extension is not
carried so far, because there is less inducement to iriake
the leaves thin.

It is (Unicult to distinguish this Dutch leaf from true
gold when new, but it very soon tarnishes and wholly loses
its colour, which renders it unfit for any other kinds of
gilding than those which are to be varnished over. (j. f.)

GOLD CoAsr. See Guinea.

GOLDONI, Charles, an eminent Italian dramatic au-
thor, was born at Veriice in the year 1707. He displayed
an early disposition for study, and could both read and write
when only four years old. The perusal of the comic wri-
ters of his country was his favourite occupation. Of these,
his father's small library afi'orded him a considerable fund;
and he made it a practice to transcribe those passages
which gave him most pleasure. At the age of eight, he
ventured to sketch a comedy of his own invention.

His father having been called to exercise his profession
of a physician at Perugia, he placed his son at the college
of the Jesuits there, where he studied grammar and rhe-
toric ; and his preceptors were so highly pleased with his
proficiency, that when he was about to leave the college,
they offered him a situation in their Society, which he, how-
ever, thought proper to decline. He thence went to Ri-
mini, to pursue his philosophical studies at the college of
the Dominicans. But the dry dogmas of the scholastic
philosophy had no attractions for the lively mind of Gol-
doni, who thought himself much more usefully and agree-
ably employed in perusing the works of Plautus, Terence,
and Aristophanes, and in attending a troop of comedians,
who were then performing at Rimini. At the end of their
engagement, the players prevailed upon him to accompany
them to Chiozza, where his mother resided. His father
was a good deal irritated at this foolish step, but soon be-
came pacified; and intending that his son should embrace
his own profession, he took him occasionally to visit his
patients. The son, however, showed no inclination for the
medical profession ; and it was then resolved that he should
study law. With this view, he was placed for some time
as a clerk with his uncle, M. Indric, a respectable practi-
tioner at Venice, and was afterwards removed to the papal
college in the university of Pavia ; but in the third year of
his studies, he was expelled from the college, in con-
sequence of a satirical effusion which he had been
prompted to circulate against some of the inhabitants
of the town, who had given him offence. After several
changes of fortune, he at length engaged in practice at
the bar of Venice ; where he published an Almanack for
the year 1732, and composed a lyrical tragedy, entitled
Amalasoute, which he afterwards suppressed. Having
been obliged to leave Venice in disgust, he removed to
Milan, where he became attached to the suite of the Ve-
netian resident. Here he composed a short comic opera,
called The Fenctian Gondolier, which was performed, and
afterwards printed among his works. He afterwards re-
turned to Venice, where he employed himself in compos-
ing pieces for the theatres. His Belisarius, a tragi-co-
medy, was represented, for the first time, on the 24th of
November 1734, and experienced a most brilliant recep-
tion, having been repeated every day until the 14lh of De-
cember.

In the spring of the following year, he accompanied the
comedians to Genoa, where he married a lady of that place.
From this period, he continued to compose dramatic pieces
for several of the Italian theatres. In 1742, however, he was
induced to settle as an advocate at Pisa, and he appears to
have practisk-d for some time with considerable success;
but the theatre at length seduced him from his legal pur-

GOL

tiOL

785

suits, and lie again altached himself lo a coni|)aiiy ul r.uinc-
dians. He accordingly returned to Venice, and continued
to compose for the theatres of that and other cities
of Italy, until the year 1761, when he received and accept-
ed an invitation to Paris. Here he furnished a number of
pieces for the Italian opera ; and even ventured, although
a foreigner, after a nine years residence, to compose come-
dies in the French language. One of these, Le Bourru
bieJifaisant, experienced a very flattering reception, and
was admitted among the number of stock plays. He
also attended some of the French princesses in the capa-
city of Italian teacher ; and besides some presents in
money, he obtained the grant of a yearly pension of four
thousand livres. At the period of the revolution his pros-
pects darkened ; his pension was withdrawn ; and after
passing some years in poverty and distress, he died in the
beginning of the year 1793, at the age of 86.,

In private life, Goldoni appears to have been amiable,
chearful, easy, and artless. As a comic author, he ranks
high among the writers of his age and country. Like
Lope dc Vega, he seems to have possessed an almost mi-
raculous fertility of conception, and rapidity of execution.
In one theatrical season, at Venice, he furnished no less
than sixteen new comedies, besides other pieces. He also
composed a great number of operas, both serious and
comic; but of these he was not vain, and indeed never
thought them worthy of publication. His admirable comic
opera, however, entitled La Buona Figliuola, set to music
by Piccini, and first performed in London on the 9th of
December 1765, established the reputation both of the au-
thor and composer in this country.

The works of Goldoni are very numerous. The most
complete edition, it is believed, is that printed at Leghorn
in 1788-91, in 31 volumes 8vo. 'S>ec Memoires de Goldoni,
Paris and London, 1814; and Montlilij Magazine, vol. v. (r)

GOLDSMITH, Oliver, was born in the parish of For-
ney, and county of Longford, in Ireland. He was the se-
cond son of the Rev. Charles Goldsmith, a respectable cler-
gyman of the established church. His early education was
limited to reading, writing, and arithmetic, such as could
be acquired from the schoolmaster of his native village,
and might fit him for some mercantile employment. But
having shewn some marks of genius, it was at length re-
solved to send him to the university; and accordingly, hav-
ing gone through the preparatory studies, he was admitted
a sizer of Trinity College, Dublin, in June 1744. While
here, an unfortunate quarrel with his tutor, occasioned by
the imprudence of the one and the harshness of the other,
blasted his hopes of distinction. He engaged in a tumult,
and escaped expulsion only by making a humble confession.
Nor did he atone for such follies by diligence and progress
in learning. He was habitually indolent: he neither stood
candidate for the usual premiums, nor did he obtain a scho-
larship; and it was not till February 1749, two years after
the regular time, that he was admitted to the degree of
Bachelor of Arts. Having lost his father, he was taken
under the protection of his uncle, the Rev. Thomas Con-
tarin, who had all along, indeed, shewn him the utmost
kindness, and who persevered in his friendship towards
him, notwithstanding the most provoking conduct on the
part of young Goldsmith. He was at length, by this wor-
thy relative, sent to Edinburgh about the end of 1752, to
study physic. His attendance on the medical classes there
was very irregular ; his habits of heedlessness and folly
grew upon him ; and his health, as well as his finances,
was greatly injured, by the dissipations in which he freely
engaged. Having gone through the usual course of study,
he set out for Leyden, with the consent of his uncle ; af-
ter having, by the generosity of two friends at college,

Vol. IX. Part II.

being freed from an arrestment for debt, contracted by his
thoughtlessly becoming surety for a fellow-student. At
Leyden he continued for a year, studying chemistry under
Gaudius, and anatomy under Albinus; but more heartily
engaged in gambling, to which he was now unhappily ad-
dicted, than in the pursuits of science. Stripped of all
his money, he determined to quit Holland, and to make the
tour of Europe. He supported himself by various means.
Sometimes he had recourse to his musical skill, play-
ing on his Hute for what the peojjle would give him ; some-
times his classical learning procured for him entertainment
at the monasteries ; and sometimes, by engaging in those
])ublic disputations, which were maintained in the universi-
ties and convents, he was so successful, as to be allowed
a donation of money, a dinner, and a bed for the night. In
this manner he travelled through Inlanders, some parts of
France and Germany, Switzerland, and Italy. It was while
in Switzerland, that he first cultivated his poetical talents,
part of his beautiful poem the Traveller having been writ-
ten there, as he himself tells us. When he was in Italy,
he received accounts of the death of his uncle ; and the
pecuniary remittances failing him in consequence of this,
he was obliged to travel homeward on foot. He landed at
Dover in 1756, having spent about twelve months in this
strange and adventurous peregrination. He first became
usher in an academy ; then assistant in a chemist's labo-
ratory ; and at length commenced business as a physician,
which procured for him plenty of patients, but almost no
fees. In 1758, through the kindness of Dr Milner, a dis-
senting clergyman, he was appointed physician to one of
the factories in India. To equip him for that situation,
(into which, after all, he never entered) he composed
" The Present State of Polite Literature in Europe."
This work was printed in 1759. Before it appeared, he
laboured as a contributor to the Monthly Review. His
contract with the editor was favourable to Goldsmith ; but
it was dissolved by mutual consent at the end of seven or
eight months. His circumstances continued to be narrow.
While under arrest for debt, he produced that inimitable
novel, the Vicar of Wakefield, for which he received 60/.
On May 31st 1761, he received his first visit from the cele-
brated Dr Johnson. Besides correcting and revising many
publications for Mr Newberry, he wrote his Letters on
English history, in 2 vols. 12mo., which have been by
mistake attributed to lord Lyttleton, and other noble au-
thors: conducted a Lady's Magazine; contribu^.^d to the
Bee ; and produced a periodical paper called " The Ledg-
er." This last work was afterwards collected into 2 vols.
12mo, and entitled the citizen of the World : It is charac-
terised by fine sentiment and exquisite humour. But his
chief attention was bestowed on the Traveller, which he
brought out in 1765, on which he intended to build his
poetical fame, and which did procure for him both high
reputation, and considerable patronage. His charming
ballad, the Hermit, recommended him to the Duchess of
Northumberland. In 1764, the famous Literary Club was
established ; Goldsmith was one of its first members, and
continued in it till his death. In 1768, his comedy of " The
Good-natured Man" was first represented at Covent Gar-
den, and kept possession of the stage for nine nights. And
in the year following, he produced his fine and popular
poem of the " Deserted Village." While preparing these
pieces for the press, he undertook and completed his " Ro-
man History," in 2 vols. 8vo, and his " History of Eng-
land," in 4 vols. 8vo, — works intended for the perusal of
the young, and certainly written in an interesting manner,
but almost always superficial, and frequently inaccurate.
The History of England was finished in two years, and he
received for it 500/. He was employed all this time in

5 G

78G

GOL

liicravy efl'orls of an occasional and inferior kind; such as
prefaces, introductions, and prospectuses. It was one of
these that led to the publication of the " History of the
Earth and Animated Nature, a production entertaining and
well written, but unfortunately abounding in errors. He
also wrote a "Life of Parnell," of which Johnson speaks
in terms of high approbation. In preparing his " Beauties
of English Poetry," he introduced, inadvertently, an inde-
cent tale from Prior, which blasted the success of the se-
lection, as it was chiefly intended for the use of boarding
schools. The life of Lord liolingbroke, prefixed to that
nobleman's Dissertations on Parties, was the production of
Goldsmith's pen, though his name was not affixed to it in
the first edition. When the Royal Academy was establish-
ed, Sir Joshua Reynolds procured for him the appointment
of professor of ancient history, — an appointment without
salary or trouble, but in other respects honourable and
useful to him.

On the 15lh March 1773, his second comedy, " T!ie
Mistakes of a Night, or She stoops to Conquer," was
produced at Covent Garden, was received by the audi-
ence with great applause, kept possession of the stage as
a stock play, and increased his literary reputation. A
scurrilous paper, occasioned by his success, and inserted
in a London paper, so provoked him, that he went to the
editor and assaulted him; but the Doctor got himself se-
verely bruised in the scuttle. He was led into this quarrel
by the ofliciousness of a pretended friend. About this
time, he wrote " The Retaliation," " The Haunch of
Venison," and some other small pieces, which did not
appear till after his death. A great project now entered
his mind ; it was " An Universal Dictionary of Arts and
Sciences." He had engaged his literary friends to assist
him, and had actually prepared a prospectus of the work.
But his plan was interrupted by a fever, wiiich terminated
his life on the 4th of April 1744. He was privately in-
terred in the Temple burial ground. A marble monument
was afterwards erected to his memory in Westminster
Abbey, between those of Gay and the Duke of Argyle,
in the poet's corner. The inscription was written by Dr
Johnson, and contains a very just though concise delinea-
tion of his merits. As a man, he was constitutionally kind,
but exceedingly improvident, and acted according to im-
pulse rather than principle. As a writer, he must be re-
garded as standing in the very foremost rank of the British
classics. In both views, simplicity may be considered as
his leading characteristic, (t)

GOLF, is an ingenious field game, played with bats or
clubs, and balls, and a favourite amusement in Scotland.
When or by whom it was first introduced, is not ascer-
tained ; but we find that as early as the fifteenth century,
it was so much in vogue as to be an object of attention to
the legislature. The parliament of Scotland, assembled
under James U. in 1457, passed an act prohibiting golf
and foot-ball, as being found to interfere too much with
the acquisition of dexterity in archery, an accomplishment
in those days of such consequence to the safety of the state.
" It is decreed and ordained," says the act, " that the foot-
ball and golf be utterly cried down, and not to be used, and
that the bow-marks be made at ilk {eac/i) parish kirk a
pair of butts, and shooting be used. And that ilk man
shoot six shots at the least, under the pain of being raised
upon them that comes not, at the least two pennies, to be
given to them that comes to the bow-marks to drink." This
shows that golf was at that period known and much prac-
tised. And as in the former reign, viz. of James I. anno
1424, we have a similar act of parliament, prohibiting foot-
ball, without any mention being made of golf, we think the

GOL

probability is, that golf was not then known : — certainly it
was not much practised.

In both the subsequent reigns of James III. and James
IV. we have similar acts of parliament against foot-ball
and golf. Under the first of these monarchs, in 1471, it
is enacted, " that foot-ball and golf be abused, (that is dis-
used) in time coming; and that the butts be made up, and
shooting used, after the tenor of the act of parliament made
thereupon." In the reign of James IV. 1491, it is statute
and oidaincd, " that in no place of the realm there be used
foot-ball, golf, or other such unprofitable sports," under
the penalty of forty shillings. All these statutes were
evidently framed, not from a conviction that there was,
in the manly and athletic exercises of foot-ball and golf,
any thing injurious either to the health, the morals, or the
loyalty of tlie subject; but because they drew the atten-
tion too much from the attainment of skill in martial ex-
ercises, at a time when the situation of the country so
emmently required it.

The ground over which golf is played, is in Scotland
called links, and is usually a particular sort of sandy
soil in the neighbourhood of the sea-shore, its surface
mostly covered with short close grass, here and there in-
terrupted by breaks, pits, and inequalities. These inter-
ruptions are necessary to impart interest to the game.

The track along which the players proceed, is denomi-
nated the course, and may be either rectilinear, or a figure
of any number of sides. Holes are made in the ground
of about four inches diameter, and at the distance of four
hundred yards, or a quarter of a mile from each other ;
and the object of the game is to strike a ball from one of
these holes into the next with as few strokes as possible.
A game may be said to terminate at each of these holes,
and their number is not limited, but depends on the nature
of the ground.

Balls are used of about l^^th of an inch in diameter, and
weighing from 26 to 30 drachms avoirdupois. They are
made of strong alumed leather, and stuffed with feathers.
The feathers are forced in at a small liole left in the cover-
ing, by a blunt pointed iron instrument, which the maker
applies to his shoulder, and the operation is continued till
the ball acquires a surprising degree of hardness and elas-
ticity. A good workman makes about nine balls in a day.
When dry, they are painted with white oil-paint, to ex-
clude the water, and render them easily seen. In playing,
they are struck with a bat or club, four feet in length, hav-
ing a small tapering elastic shaft, with a crooked head, into
which is run a quantity of lead to render it heavy, and it
is fortified by a piece of horn before. A good player, with
one of these clubs, will strike a ball to the distance of 180
or 200 yards. Every golfer has a variety of clubs, differ-
ently formed, and adapted for playing in different situa-
tions of the ball, and in different stages of the game. A
set consists of four at least, viz. the common or play-
club, the spoon, the putter, and the iron; but most gol-
fers have ten or a dozen diff"erent sorts. The common
club is used when the ball lies fair on the ground ; the
spoon, when in a hollow; the iron, when among sand,
gravel, or stones; and the putter, when near the hole.

A match may consist of two or more players; but no
proficient at golf ever plays in one exceeding four, that
number being allowed to be the most elegant and con-
venient. Each party has a ball, and the rule is, that at
the beginning of a hole or game, the player may elevate
his to what height he chooses for the convenience of
striking, and this is done by means of a little sand or
earth, and is called teeing; but after the first stroke has
been made, the ball must be played from the spot where

GOM

tiON

■87

it chances to lie. And wliiclisocvcr of the balls lies
farthest back, or at the i^icatcst distance from the hole
to which the players are proceeding', must be always
played till it get before the other.

Thus, suppose A and B to be ent^agcd in a match.
A plays off, and then ]i. A's ball lies farthest behind,
and tiiereforc, by the rules of the game, he is obliged to
play again. This is called playing one more, or //ic odds.
But A misses his ball, or sends it only to so short a distance,
that it is not yet so near the mark as B's. A must there-
fore play a third time, and this is called playing two more;
and should it so happen, that even at this stroke he does
rot get his ball laid nearer to the hole than that of B, he
must then play three more, and so on.

When B then plays, he is said to play one off three ; and
if he plays a second time in order to get before A's ball,
he is said to play one ofi' two ; and if a third time, one off
one, or the like. Then whoever of the two plays first,
again plays the odds. But if when B played one off two,
or one off three, A had been to play next, he would then
have played two more, or three more, respectively. If
the party consists of four, the rule is the same, except
that the two partners on each side play alternately. If
the ball be struck into the hole at the like., or an equal
number of strokes on both sides, the hole is said to be
halved, and goes for notliing.

To play this game will require more dexterity and prac-
tice than is commonly imagined. But an idea of its dif-
ficulty may be formed by considering the smallness of the
object struck, compared with the largeness of the circle
described in the swing round with the club; the accuracy
required to keep the course, and to measure the force ap-
plied in such a manner as to avoid hazards and over-dri-
ving in the ball when approaching the end of the range ;
also the judgment requisite to determine the most advan-
tageous club to be used in any given situation of the ball ;
as well as the allowance to be made for the force and di-
rection of the wind, when there happens to be any, and the
nature and inequalities of the ground, (x)

GOMBROON, or Bendeb Abassi, the Harmozia of
the ancients, is a town of Persia, in the province of Ker-
man. It is situated in a barren country, on a bay of the
gulf of Ormuz. The town is large, and the houses more
commodious than in other parts of Persia. It is fortified
with double walls, and is defended by the fort of Minah,
which stands partly on a hill, and is divided into the upper,
the centre, and the lower, forts. A small river breaks
through the hills, and forms a pass from the east, and its
water, diffused by means of canals, serves as ditches to the
fort. The country, for about 45 miles round, is covered
with villages, and supplies all the neighbouring districts
with grain and dates. The cattle of the adjoining dis-
tiicts are sent here in great numbers to feed during the hot
season.

Gombroon was formerly the first sea-port in Persia, and
it is still a place of considerable trade. The English
settled here in 1613. In 1620, the Dutch followed their
example ; and, upon the taking of Ormuz, in 1622, mer-
chants flocked here in great numbers. In 1759, it was
taken by the French ; but though the English factory was
afterwards re-establislicd, yet, from the heaviness of the
expence, and the unhealthiness of the climate, it has long
ago been withdrawn. Gombroon is now subject to the
Imam of Muskat. The customs amount to 20,000 rupees
annually ; and for this, as well as the tribute of Minah, the
Imam is accountable lo the King of Persia. East Long.
56° 12', North Lat. 27° 81'. See Milburn's Oriental Com-
merce, vol. i. p. 131 ; and Kinneir's Memoir of the Persian
Empire, p. 201.

GOMEPvA, one of the Canary Islc^, is situated about
six leagues S. W. from Tcncrifle, and is about 20 miles
long, and 10 broad. The chief town in the island is St
Sebastian, or La Villa do la Palma, which stands upon the
shore in the bottom of a bay on the south-east side of the
island, where shipping is secure from all winds except the
south-east. Ships of any burthen may heave down and
repair at the cove, hauling close to the shore, which is a
high and perpendicular cliff. A battery, with several pieces
of cannon, are placed on the summit, for the defence of
the harbour. At a short distance from the beach the town
commences, the principal street running straight inland.
The houses, to the number of 150, are small and mean ;
the only public buildings are a church and a convent. It
is supplied with good water. An account of the trade, &c.
of this place, will be found under our article Canary
Isles. Population 7000. West Long, of the harbour 17°
7' 45", North Lat. 28° 5' 40".

GONDAR, the capital city of Abyssinia, is situated in
12° 34' 30" North Latitude, and 37° 33' East Longitude
from Greenwich. It is placed upon a hill of considerable
height, the top of which is nearly plain, and which is sur-
rounded on every side by a deep valley. The river Kahha,
which comes from the Mountain of the Sun, runs through
the valley on the south side of the town, and the river
Angrab, falling from Woggora, surrounds it on the north
and north-east. These two rivers unite their waters at
the bottom of the hill, about a quarter of a mile south of
the city. The houses of Gondar are constructed chiefly
of clay, and the roofs are of a conical form, covered with
thatch. The principal public building is the palace, at
the west end of the town, which is said to have been built
in the time of Facilidas, by masons from India, and by such
Abyssinians as had been instructed in architecture by the
Jesuits. It had been originally a square building, four
stories high, and flanked with square towers; but having
been burnt at different times, great part of it was in ruins
during Mr Bruce's residence in Abyssinia. Some of the
apartments, however, still exhibited proofs of their ancient
magnificence. In one chamber the walls had been cover-
ed with plates of ivory, stained with stars of various
colours ; and in another the skirting was finished with
ivory, four feet from the ground ; and over it were arrang-
ed, around the room, three rows of Venetian mirrors, fixed
in frames of copper, while the roof was formed of split
painted cane, disposed in Mosaic figures, in the gayest
style. There was still ample lodging in its two lowest
floors, and the audience chamber alone was above I 20 ftct
in length. Successive sovereigns have built apartments
by the side of the original edifice, v/hich are formed of
clay, and according to the fashion of the country ; but the
whole structure, and these contiguous buildings, are sur-
rounded with a substantial stone wall, 30 feet high, and
the four sides of which are above an English mile and a
half in circumference. There are battlements upon the
outer wall, but no appearance of embrazures for cannon ;
and a parapet roof between the outer and inner wall forms
a gallery, by which a person can go along the whole, and
look into the street. In times of peace, Gondar contains
above 10,000 families, or 50,000 souls. One of its prin-
cipal manufactures is a kind of coarse carpet made of the
wool of the sheep and hair of the goat dyed red or light
blue. See Bruce's Tra-vets in jibijssinia, vols. iv. and v,
8vo ; Valentia's Travels, vol. ii. and Salt's Travels. (7)

GONG, is the name of an instrument used among the
Chinese for producing loud sounds by percussion. It is a
large circular instrument, somewhat resembling a tam-
bourine. It is entirely made of metal, and has its face
somewhat convex. The metal, which resembles bronze,

5 G 2

788

GON

bears numerous marks of the hammer in every part. A
string passes through :i hole in the rim, and when llic gong
is suspended by this string, it is beaten on the centre by
repeated gentle strokes of a spherical mallet, covered with
folds of \voollen cloth. When it is properly struck, it
emits an overpowering sound, which may be heard at more
than the distance of a mile. Gongs are manufactured
openly in Canton ; and the largest kinds are made in one
of the mterior provinces of China. They are generally
carried on a pole by two men, and beaten by the hindmost,
and are commonly used at processions and at festivals,
and also for the purpose of regulating the steps of the
soldiers.

Tiie metal of which the gong is composed is brittle,
and very elastic, and has a granular texture. Dr Wol-
laston found it to be quite malleable at a temperature con-
siderably below that of red heat. He determined the com-
position of the metal, and liaving made a quantity of similar
alloy, he mended a crack in a gong belonging to Sir Joseph
Banks, and restored the lone of the instrument. Klaproth
found that the specific gravity of the gong was 8.815, and
that it consisted of

Copper 78

Tin 22

100

Dr Thomson found that its specific gravity was 8.953,
that its thickness varied from one-fifteenth to one-twentieth
of an inch, and that it was composed of

Copper
Tin

80.427
19.573

100.000

Mr Murdoch has recently discovered not only the pro-
per composition, but also the mode of manufacturing
gongs ; and in the course of his investigation has obtained
several interesting results, which we hope to be able to
communicate in a subsequent article. See Gehlen's ^oi^r-
nal, Second Series, vol. ix. p. 408 ; and Thomson's Annals
of Philoso]ihii, vol. ii. p. 208, 315, 316.

GONIOMETER, from ymut an angle, and utT^ui to
measure, is the name of a class of instruments for mea-
suring the inclination of one plane surface to another. As
the principal use of these instruments is to measure the
angles of crystallised bodies, they were first introduced,
and are now principally used, by mineralogists ; although
those which depend on the principle of reflexion, are of
the most essential utility in many branches of physics, par-
ticularly in optical experiments.

In our article Crystallography, ve have already des-
cribed the goniometer used by Rome de Lisle, and M.
Hauy, and invented by M. Carangeau, (see Plate CCXXIII.
Fig. 34.) and in the same article we have given drawings
and descriptions of the new reflecting goniometers in-
vented by Dr WoUaston and Dr Brewster. See Plate
CCXXIV. Figs. 1. and 2. The present article will there-
fore embrace some additional remarks on the application
of the principle of reflexion, and an account of some other
goniometrical instruments, which could not with propriety
have been introduced under the head of Crystallo-
graphy.

The reflecting goniometers of Dr Wollaston and Dr
Brewster were invented nearly about the same time, with-
out any communication between their respective authors ;
but though these instruments resemble one another in so

far as they both make use of the piintiple of reflexion,
yet they difler very widely in the application of that prin-
ciple, anil ill the niodc of incasui ing llie angles of crystals.

One of the advantages which Dr Brewster's goiiioinclcr
))ossesscs over tliat of Dr Wollaston's, is, that the former
is cupaiile of measuring a hollow angle, sucli as a b c, re-
presented in Plate CCLXXVII. Fig. 1. and 2. or one in
which the crystal a b c. Fig. 3. is imbedded in a stony mass
from which it cannot easily be detached. Tlie case repre-
sented in Fig. 2. is one which actually occurs in measuring
the angle whicli the edge of the interrupting stratum, or
crystallised vein of some specimens of IceKind spar, forms
with the surfaces of the rhomboid. The determination of
this angle is of the utmost importance, and is incapable of
being measured by any goniometrical instrument with
which we are acquainted, excepting that of Dr Brewster's.
See Philds'jfihical Transactions (or 1815, p. 277.

This goniometer will measure the angles of crystals
with great accuracy, and little trouble, if the surfaces are
moderately smooth, and reflect the smallest quantity of
light. When the surface has the appearance of being per-
fectly rough and irregular, the oblique reflection generally
gives a very distinct image of a vertical bar, when the
image of a horizontal line or of any other object could not
possibly be obtained. It frequently happens, however,
that the crystal does not reflect sufficient light to form an
image, or is so irregular in its surface, or is so incon-
veniently placed in the specimen, that a variety of different
contrivances mHst be adopted for measuring its angles.
In a specimen of AUanite, for example, belonging to Mr
Allan, the crystals are situated in such a manner, that
their angles could not be measured by any goniometer
without breaking off some of the projecting parts of the
mineral.

When the planes of the crystal are smooth, but unpolish-
ed, a small piece of parallel glass AB, Fig. 4. or any other
reflecting substance, with parallel sides, is successively
placed upon the surfaces of the crystal CDE; the coin-
cidence of the direct image of a rectilineal object with the
image reflected from the piece of glass, is observed as be-
fore, and the angle found in precisely the same manner.
If the two surfaces of the reflector should not be parallel,
the aberration will be corrected by reversing its position
on the second surface of the crystal.

When the planes of the crystal are covered with as-
perities which prevent the piece of glass from lying paral-
lel to these planes, we must make use of the reflector AB,
Fig. 5. supported by three slender feet, and so formed that
the reflecting plane mn is exactly parallel to the plane o/i,
passing through the extremities of the three feet. The
three feet are then placed upon those points of the surface
where there are no asperities, and the coincidence of the
images is observed in the reflector : It is then transferred
to the other surface of the crystal, the coincidence of the
images again observed, and the angle of the planes mea-
sured as before. As the surface of the crystal may always
be brought into a horizontal position when the coincidence
of the object and its image is observed, the reflector will
stand steadily on the planes of the crystal ; but, in order
to secure it from sliding, a drop of varnish or melted bee's
wax may be placed round each of its feet. It might be
proper to have two or three of these reflecting tripods of
different sizes, and with their feet at different distances, in
order to accommodate themselves to the smooth parts of
the crystal. One of the reflectors might be fixed on each
surface with bee's wax, in the way represented in Fig. 6.
where C is the crystal, and A, B the two reflecting tripods.
If the position of the crystal should prevent us from adopt-
ing either of these methods, which was the case in the

GONIOMETEU.

789

specimen of Allanite already inciUionctl, wc must huvc
recourse to the ^oiiiomctrica! microscope, wliicli is intend-
ed to measure ilic angles formed by two lines when tlic cjc
is perpendicular to the plane of the angle.

If wc conceive the two surfaces of a crystal to be cut
by a plane perpendicular to their common section, the ap-
paixnl angle contained by the two lines which form the
boundary of the section, when the eye is perpendicular to
the section, is evidently the inclination of the planes. Hut
if the cutting plane is not perpendicular to the common
section, the apparent angles of the lines which form tlic
boundaries of the section when viewed by an eye perpen-
dicular to it, is evidently greater or less than the real angle
of the crystal, according to the position of the cutting
plane. If the observer, however, places himself in such
a manner, that the common section of the planes is paral-
lel to the axis of his eye, then the apparent angle formed
by the bounding lines of the section, whatever be the posi-
tion of the cutting-plane, is the real angle of the crystal.
By placing the crystal, therefore, in this position, in the
focus of the goniomelrical microscope, which shall be
hereafter described, and measuring tlie apparent angle
formed by tlie bounding lines, we obtain, by a very simple
process, the inclination of the planes.

This will be understood from Fig. 7. in which ABCDEF
is a crystal, ABC a section of it perpendicular to AD, and
A 6 c an oblique section.^ Now, though BAG is the real
angle of the crystal, yet, when the oblique section A 6 c is
viewed by the observer at O, its bounding lines A 6, A c
are apparently coincident with the lines AB, AC, whose
inclination is the real angle of the planes ; and therefore,
if we measure by a proper instrument, the apparent angle
contained by the oblique lines A i, A c, we obtain a measure
of the real angle of the crystal.

The angles of the crystal may also be advantageously
deduced, from the plane angles by which any of the solid
angles is contained. Tlie plane angles are first measured
■with great accuracy by the goniometrical microscope, or
the angular micrometer adapted to a microscope, and the
inclination of the planes is deduced from a trigonometrical
formula. Whatever be the number of plane angles which
contain the solid angle, we can always reduce the solid
angle to one which is formed by three plane angles, and
determine by the formula the inclination of any two of
them. Thus, if the solid angle at A, Fig. 8. is contained
by five plane angles, and if it is required to find the inclina-
tion of the planes ABC, ACD, we first measure the plane
angles CAB, CAD, and also the angle contained by the
lines AB, AD; so that we have now reduced the solid an-
gle contained by five plane angles, into one contained by
three plane angles, CAB, CAD, BAD.

Legendre, in his Elements of Geometry, has given a
very elegant solution of this problem by a plain construc-
tion ; and it is easy, from his solution, to form an instru-
ment for shew ing the angles of the planes without the trou-
ble of calculation. Thus let the angles BAC, CAD, DAE,
Fig. 9. be made equal to the three plane angles by which
the solid angle is contained. Make AB equal to AE, and
from the points B, E, let fall the perpendiculars BC, ED
on the lines AC, AD, and let them meet at O. From the
point C as a centre, with the radius CB, describe the semi-
circle BFG. From the point O draw OF at right angles
to CO, and from F, where it meets the semicircle, draw
FC. The angle GCF is the inclination of the two planes,
CAD, CAB. In order to construct an instrument on this
principle, to save the trouble of projection or calculation,
we have only to form a graduated circle BHEG, with three
moveable radii, AC, AD, AE, and a fixed radius AB. The
moveable radii must have vernier scales at their extremi-

ties, that they may be set so as to cuuiuin the three plane
angles which form the solid angle. Two moveable arms
BG, EO, the former of wliich is divided into any number
of equal parts, turn round the extremities B, E : and, by
means of a rellecting mirror on their exterior sides, they
can be set in such a position as to be perpendicular to the
radii AC, AD. When this is done, the number of equal
parts between C and O, divided by the immber between
B and C, is the natural co-sine of the angle GCF ; and
therefore, by entering a table of sines with this number,
the inclination of the two planes will be found.

In order to obtain a more accurate result, however, wc
must have recourse to a trigonometrical formula. Let A,
Fig. 10, be the solid angle, and let it be required to deter-
mine, by means of the three plane angles, tlie inclination of
the surfaces ACB, ACD. Draw AM, AN in the planes
ACB, ACD, and perpendicular to the common section
AC ; join BM, DN. Then it is obvious, that the angle
MAN is the inclination of the planes required, and that the
angle BAD, which is an oblique section of the prism BM,
will be equal to MAN when it is reduced to the plane
AMN. By considering that the inclinations of tlie bound-
ing lines of the oblique section of the prism, to the bound-
ing lines of the perpendicular section, are measured by the
angles DAN, BAM, the complements of the two given
plane angles CAD, CAB, we shall obtain, by spherical
trigonometry, the following formula :

Sin.

MAN

R^^Sin.

BAD-fCAD— CAB

. Sin

BAD-fCAB— CAD^

Sin. CAB. Sin. CAD ,

Or, calling ip the angles of the surfaces of the crystal, B,
C the plane angles at the vertex of these surfaces, and A
the other plane angle, then we shall have

c- '('—R ,,/q- A + B—C a+C— B\
Sm. -— Rad^l Sin. . Sin. 1

Sin. B. Sin. C.

a formula from which the value of p may be obtained by a
very simple calculation.

Let the angle BAD, for example, be 62° 55', the angle
CADzzlOO° 2', and the angle CABzzl05° 10', then we shall
have, by the preceding formula.

Sin. =^=Rad.2=;;

Sin. 28° 24' Sin. 34' 32"

2 Sin. 106° 10' Sin. 100° 2' '

Now we have.

Log. sin. 28° 24' . . . 9.6772640

Log. sin. 34° 32' . . . 9.7534954

Add 2 Log. of Rad .

19.4307594
. 20.0000000

Log. sin. 106° 10'
Log. sin. 100° 2' . .

39.4307594

. 9.9824774
. 9.9933^)68

From

Subtract

19.9757842

. 39,4307594
. 19.9757842

9
2 Log. sin--^ • • •

. 194549752

Log. sin. 1 . . . .

. 9.7274876

'90

GON

GOll

Hence - = 32°
2

IG' 18"

32' 36"

bar of about r^g of an inch

and ^ = 64'
die anp;le of the surfaces of the crystal.

A goniometer, upon another principle, has recently been
invented by the Rev. E. J. Burrow, fellow of Mugclalcnc
College, Cambiidt^e. The following is the description of
it, given by himself :

" BG (Kig. 11.) is a steel
square, chamfered off to the point B. On BG is taken
exactly an inch, BA, and A is made the centre of motion
of the legs DE and rf c, of which DE is also brought to a
point D, to correspond with B. To the other end of these
legs is attached, by the pin F, a moveable quadrant, pass-
ing through the bar BG at C, and graduated to read to-
wards the side of the shorter leg d e. The handle GH is
made to project on the opposite side to that on which the
legs move, that it may not interfere with the use of a brass
degree divided into minutes, to be attached to the centre
A upon longer radii. The leg AB is divided accurately
into tenths, and the two nearest the point B into twentieths,
and these again into fortieths. The whole instrument is
about four inches and a half long.

Now if the crystal, the angle of which is to be measur-
ed, be detached, it is obvious, tliat, if an acute one, by ap-
plying it to the angle BAD, the vertical and equal angle
EAC will be given on the c|uadrant: if obtuse, by apply-
ing it to the angle E and B, we obtain its supplement
EAC. But if the crystal be embedded in the matrix, so that
with the common goniometers having the moveable vertex,
it is difficult to procure a mechanical measurement of the
protruding angle, we take any distance from the vertex of
the crystal measured upon the scale of tenths, he. ; and
placing one point of the instrument, (ex. gr.) on x (Fig.
12.) and the other on z, so as to make the triangle x y z
isosceles, we get upon the quadrant the angle which the
base .r z subtends at the radius one inch ; and we have the
side X y, measured. As, therefore, when the object is giv-
en, the angle it subtends, and — — , we have the proportion

X y : AB : : angle found : angle sought. And as the whole
radius is one inch divided into tenths, this proportion is
easily made in the head.

The short bar is added for the better carrying of the
quadrant, and renders the instrument useful in geological
observations, to ascertain the inclination of strata. This is
done by hanging a small plummet to a hook at A, and hav-
ing made the angle which it forms at BC a right angle, and
moving the outer bars, till their upper line coincides with
the stratum, the angle of inclination will be given on the
quadrant."

We shall now conclude this article with the description
of a goniometrical telescope, and a goniometrical micros-
cope, invented by Dr Brewster, and described in his Trea-
tise on JVeiv Philosofihical Instruments.

This instrument is represented in Fig. 15, where TT is
the eye-tube of the telescope, which carries the graduated
circle A15, divided into 360 degrees. By means of the
milled head which surrounds the eys-glass at E, this circle
has a motion of rotation about the axis of the eye-tube.
The vtriiier V has likewise a motion round the axis of the
instrument, and may be set to the zero of the scale, when
the level L, fixed to the plane surface of the graduated cir-
cle, is adjusted to a horizontal line. On the same surface,
parallel to the axis of the level, there are fixed two screws,
(one of them is seen at «,) on which the arm DF may slide
to or from the eye-glass E. This arm is bent into a right
angle at D, and carries a frame, in which the small reflect-

ing plane 0,made of lilack glass, is lilted so as to have a
rotatory motion about the axis a b.

When an angular object appears in the field of the teles-
cope, the arm IH' is pushed backwards or forwards, till the
mirror O is near the centre oi the eye-glass, and it is then
turned round its axis a b, by means of the lever /i, till the
observer, by looking through the eye-glass, and into the
mirror at the same time, perceives a distinct rcllected
image of the field of viev/, and the angular object which
it contains. The graduated circle AB is then moved round
its centre, till the reflected imag;; of one of the lines which
contains the angle is continuous with tlie line itself, and
the degree jjointed out by the index is noted down. The
circle is again made to revolve till the image of the other
line is continuous with the line itself, and the place of the
index is again marked. The arch of tlic circle intercepted
between these positions, is the measure of the angle re-
quired. To save the tioul)le of reading off a second line,
the vernier may be placed at the zero of the scale, when
the first coincidence has been observed.

In order to explain the theory of this instrument, let
ABC, Fig. 14. be a plane angle seen in tlie field of the te-
lescope, and MN the section of a reflecting mirror,
which moves along with the graduated circle. When the
side BC is in the same straight line with its image CE,
BC is perpendicular to MN ; and when, by the motion of
the divided circle, the mirror MN is brought into a posi-
tion 7/1 n perpendicular to the other side AB. the arch de-
scribed by the moveable circle is evidently a measure of
the angle formed by the lines AB BC. The angular mo-
tion of the mirror, in passing from the position MN to m 77,
is not measured by the angle AOC, formed at the centre O
by AO and CO, but by the angle FOG, which is equal to
ABC. This will be evident from considering, that the
lines AB, CB are parallel to FO, GO, and that the same
angle would have been obtained, by taking the reflected
image of the lines FO and GO.

When the instrument is required to measure the appa-
rent angle which any right line makes with the horizon, the
index of the vernier should point to zero when the level
is adjusted to the horizon ; and then, by turning round the
graduated circle till the coincidence between the direct and
reflected image of the right line is observed, the index
will point out the angle required.

The goniometrical microscope is represented in Fig. 15,
and is nothing more than the application of the preceding
contrivance to a microscope. See Nicholson's Journal,
Jan. 1809, vol. xxii. p. 1. and Brewster's Treatise on AVw
Phil. Instruments,}^. 97 — 106, 110.

GONORRHCEA. See Medicine and Surgert.
GOREE, is an island in the Atlantic, on the west coast of
Africa. It is about 30 leagues from Senegal, about one
league from the Terra Firma of Cape \' erd, and about 3
leagues from that Cape itself. The island is about 800
yards long and 240 broad, and is surrounded on all sides by
inaccessible rocks, excepting in one small place to the east-
north-east, contained between two points, one of which is
high and the other flat, and covered with a bank of sand.
This place forms a natural and secure harbour. A late
director of the island, M. de St Jean, erected a new fort,
and several buildings, discovered springs of good water,
and planted a variety of vegetables and fruit trees. The
air is cool and teinperate during the whole of the year ;
and the inhabitants are refreshed by alternate breezes from
the land and sea.

This island was ceded to the Dutch in 1617, by Biran,
king of Cape Verd. It was immediately strengthened by
Nassau Fort on the north-west, and afterwards by Orange
Fort, a little nearer the shore. In 1663, Admiral Holmeg

GOS

took it from the Dutcli. In 1665, it was iclalicn by Ruy-
ter ; but in 1677 it was taken, alter some resistance, by the
French under tiie Count D'Estrecs. The English took
the island from the French in 1602, and restored it in 1693.
Since that time it conlinued in the possession of tlie French,
with a few interruptions, and was guaranteed to tlicm by
the treaty of 1783. It was taken by the British in the late
war. West Long. 17° 24' 45", and North Liit. 14° 40' lo".
Those who wish for very particular information respecting
Goree, may consult Prelong's Mernoire sur Coree, in the
Amiales de Chiinie for 1793.

GORFfZ, GoRZ, or Goritia, is a town of Germany,
situated in a district of the same name. The town is hand-
some, and is picturesquely situated on the river Lisonzo.
A great number of the houses are good, and belong to no-
ble families. It has seven convents, nine chapels, and a
college. The opera-house, though not very neat without,
is elegant and commodious within. The fort commands
an extensive view over the surrounding country. On the
north side of the town are eminences of moderate height,
aflbrding all the characteristics of the finest Swiss scenery ;
while on the south the plain country exhibits all the beau-
ties of an Italian climate.

The district of Goritz contributes annually along with
Gradisca, an insignificant town, 41,502 florins to tlie main-
tenance of the army. The country produces wine, fruits,
silk, and corn. Population 12,000.

GORLITZ is a town of Germany in Upper Lusatia. It
is situated on the river Neisse. Besides the cathedral,
there are two churches within the walls, and three without.
The organ is reckoned the finest in Europe, next to that of
Haarlem. The great spire, tlie cliapcl of St George cut
out of tl'.e rock, the public library, and the collections of
the Society of Sciences of Upper Lusatia, are worthy the
notice of strangers. The moimtains of Gorlitz near the
village of Konigshayn, about 4 miles from the town, are
composed of vast masses of granite ; on one of which, a
lolly granite column has been erected to the memory of M.
Von Schachman, the proprietor of Konigshayn. Nume-
rous fragments of granite are scattered around these moun-
tains. On the road from Gorlitz to Konigshayn, is situa-
ted the once celebrated holy sepulchre. It is an exact re-
presentation of that which was shewn in Palestijie in the
I5th century. The baths of Liebwerda, about five miles
from Gorlitz, are generally visited by strangers. Gorlitz
has long been celebrated as a flourishing manufacturing
town. Cloth is fabricated here in great quantities ; and
during the last 20 years, considerable improvements have
been made, particularly in the quality of that article, by the
attention which is paid to the breed of sheep, and the im-
portation of Spanish rams. Linen and cotton stuff's are also
manufactured here. Population 8500.

GOSPORT, is a seaport town of England, in Hampshire,
situated on the west side of Portsmouth Harbour. This
town, which flourishes particularly in times of war, consists
of a principal street, extending westward from the harbour
to the fortification, with the obstruction only of the market-
house, and of other streets parallel to the principal one,
and crossed by various streets of a smaller size. Difi'er-
ent ranges of buildings stretch also along the shore and
near the fortification. Gosport is fortified on the land side
by a line of bastions, counter-scarps, &c. which extend from
Weovil to Alverstoke Lake. The king's brewery and
cooperage, with store-houses for wine, malt, and hops, are
within the works on the Weovil side. The new barracks
are also on the Weovil side. Gosport is a chapelry to the
village of Alverstoke. The chapel stands to the south of
the town, in a well-wooded cemetry. It is a large building,
neatly fitted up. There is also here a Roman Catholic

GOT 791

chapel, and a meciing-housc for the Dissenters, who have
an academy for the education of young clergymen, under
the management of Dr Bogne. There arc at Gosport
several charity-schools, an alms-house, and a large and airy
work-house for the poor. The principal manufactures
here arc an iron foundery, and several breweries. A neat
theatre has been erected at Gosport.

This town communicates with the sea by means of a Iar"-e
basin and canal, with extensive quays, where vessels of
considerable size can take in their stores. Ferry-boats are
constantly passing and repassing across the harbour be-
tween Gosport and Postsmouth.

Near Gosport is situated the royal hospital at Hasler, for
the reception of sick and wounded seamen, which was
erected between 1746 and 1762. It stamls within 400 yards
of the extremity of the point of land which lies to the west
of the entrance to Portsmouth harbour. The front is about
567 feet long, and it has two wings, each of which is about
552 feet long. It can accommodate 2000 patients, and has
an annual expenditure of 5000/. The following is an ab-
stract of the population of the town of Gosport for 1811.

Inhabited houses 1439

Number of families 1614

Families employed in trade 385

Wales 3483

Females 4305

Total population 7788

See Warner's Toliogralihical Remarks relating to the
South-ivester7i /larts of Hampshire ; and the Beauties of
England and Wales, vol. vi. p. 310.

GOSSLAR, is a large town of Westphalia, situated on
the river Gose. The magnitude of this town forms a very
singular contrast with its population, which does not ex-
ceed 6000, the number of houses being no fewer than about
1500. The cathedral church of Gosslar is the only re-
markable building which the town contains. It possesses
the altar of Crothos, one of the deities of the ancient Sax-
ons, who sacrificed to it infants. It was brought from
Harzburg, and is considered as a genuine piece of antiqui-
ty by the antiquarians of the town. It is a brass chest, per-
forated on every side, so that the flames could strike through
to consume the victims which lay upon it. There is also
here a Christian altar, encircled with large metallic co-
lumns. IL was found at Harzburg, and is regarded as a
monument of the heathen ages in Saxony. This town is
celebrated for its excellent beer called Gose. There are
seven different species of it, the best of which is called
Beste-Krug. It is a very spirituous drink, and tastes more
of wine than of beer. There are here also manufactories
for vitriol, paper, and fishing-nets.

GOTH. -^j anciently Gr;;«m«<f in, and afterwards P'ried-
enstein, is a town of Germany in Upper Saxony, situated
on an eminence near the Leine, which supplies the town
with water, conveyed to it in stone canals. Gotlia is one
of the handsomest towns of Thuringia. The Oucal Palace
st;mds on a height above the town, and co^cains a museum
of natural history, a library, a cabinet of medals, and a
splendid collection of prints, paintings, geographical charts,
and matliematical and physical in?;ruments. This excel-
lent collection, which has been lecently enlarged by that
of M. Lichtcnberg, has been long ago minutely described
byKeysler. At that time the Ducal library consisted of
about 30,000 printed voi'umcs, and 2000 manuscripts. The
cabinet of medals, "hich is particularly valuable, has been
long ago described by M. Liebe, in his Gothm numniaria,
and more recently by !M. Schlichtegroll, in his Historia
A^iunothec£ Gotliance. Gotha, 1799. The Ducal Palace
has recently undergone great improvement, particularly in
the grand terrace, which has been compared to that of

792

COT

GOU

Windsor. Tlie English gai-tlen of llic Duke is worthy ot
being visited, and llic small island, planted with weeping
willows and birches, which contains the tombs ol Eincst
and Charlotte, the chiUhen ol" the reignint^ Uuke. A co-
lumn of granite, surmounted by an urn ol" white marble, is
placed near the tomb. The gaiden of the Duchess, con-
taining the monument of Madame de Uuchwald, and busts
of Newton, Leibnitz, and Kepler; the buildings of the
Orangcrie ; and the hotel of Prince Augustus, the brother
of the Duke, are also objects of some interest. The other
public buildings are the arsenal, the two churches, called
Kloster und JVeJimarkls Kirchen, the last of which contains
the tombs of several of the Saxe-Gotha princes ; an hospi-
tal for soldiers, two echools for the children of soldiers, a
public college, a gymnasium with a good library, the pub-
lic library, the house of correction, and an hospital for
widows, and another for orphans.

Tlie principal manufactures in Gotha are those of wool-
len goods, ribbands, muslin, and porcelain. There are no
fewer than six periodical papers published in this town.
Near the village Siebclebcn, about half a league from Go-
tha, upon the insulated mountain of Seeberg, is an excel-
lent observatory, under the charge of Baron Zach, an able
and active astronomer. Population of the town, 11,500.
GOTHA. See Sweden.
GOTHARD, St, Mount. See Alps.
GOTHIC AncHiTECTURE. See Civil Architec-
ture.

GOTHLAND. See Sweden.

GOTHS. See Celts, Denmark, Sweden, Rome, &c.
GOTTENBURG, or Gotheborg, is a seaport town on
the west coast of Sweden, and the second town in the king-
dom. This town is situated on the banks of the most east-
erly branch of the Gotha, a large river which issues from
the lake Wenner. About ten miles from Gottenburg it
divides into three branches, two of which are soon re-
united, after passing a rock upon which the old fort of Bo-
hus is situated. The other two branches discharge them-
selves, by separate mouths, into the sea, and form a large
island called Hisengen. The town is nearly three miles
in circumference, exclusive of the suburbs called Hoga,
and is regularly fortified with a ditch and wall.

Gottenburg consists of a principal street, called Great
Harbour Street, consisting of houses three stories high,
built of stone or brick, resting upon piles, and covered with
white plaster, the roofs being in general concealed. A ca-
nal on the river Ham, crossed occasionally by wooden
bridges, two of which only are for carriages, runs along the
middle of this street. This street is crossed at right an-
gles by North Harbour Street and South Harbour Street,
and a few others; and parallel to it there are other streets
of inferior note. These streets are ill paved with round
stones, a-nd have no side pavement. At the west end of the
town is a hifl about 100 feet high, upon which are several
streets. Th'i<i part is called the upper town, and the other
part the lower town. In the upper town, the rows of build-
ings rise above oii° another like the seats of an amphithea-
tre. The exchange, and the extensive buildings belonging
to the East India company, stand in the principal street.
There are in this town two Swedish churches, and a Ger-
man church. In 1812, a very magnificent church was
building with stones brought from Scotland.

The harbour of Gottenburg is about one-fourth of a mile
in breadth, and is formed by two chaiiis of rocks. Its en-
trance is defended by the small fort of New Elfsborg, situa-
ted upon a rocky island, and garrisoned with 250 men.

Gottenburg formerly carried on a very great commerce
\\\ herrings, but, for several years past, they have entirely
left tlic coast, and the fishing has of course declined. For-

merly, they obta'ined about 600,000 barrels of herring an-
nually, of which they salted 2u0,000 : train oil being ob-
tained from the remainder, at the rate of one barrel fiom
15 barrels of herring. In the year 1790, there was export-
ed fiom Gottenburg 104.797 schips of iron in bars; 9,033
schips of other iron ; 1 142 schips of steel ; 36,900 planks ;
195,482 tons of salt herrmgs ; and East India commodities,
consisting of tea, silken stufts, cinnamon, rhubarb, sago, fans
of bamboo, porcelain. Sec. to the amount of 599,471 rix dol-
lars. A Royal Society of Sciences and Literature has been
established here, and has published some volumes of its
memoirs in 8vo.

The population of Gottenburg was in

1791 15,000

1804 17,760

1811 24,858

The country about Gottenburg consists of low precipi-
tous ridges of naked rocks of gneiss, stretching in various
directions. They vary in height from 100 feet to 310,
which was the highest, as measured by Dr Thompson.
Tolerably cultivated vallies, about a mile wide, separate
these ridges. The west side of the island of Hisingen is
composed almost entirely of naked rocks; and it protects
the town against the north sea, and the west winds. See
Coxe's Tra-vels in Sweden, vol. iv. ; Catteau de Calleville's
Voyage en Mtemagne et en Suede, vol. ii. p. 300 ; Kuttner's
Travels through Denmark, Sweden, d'c. sect. vi. ; Thom-
son's Travels in Sweden, chap. i. : and Inland Navig.\-
tion, for an account of the great canal of Trolhatta.

GOrTINGEN, or Goettingen, is a city of Lower
Saxony, in the electorate, (now kingdom,) of Hanover, and
principality of Calenberg. It is situated on the small river
Leine, in Longitude 9° 5 3' east, and Latitude 51° 32' north.

The university was founded by George II. in the year
1734, and soon became one of the most celebrated and best
frequented seminaries on the continent. It is believed to
have suffered considerably during the oppressive occupa-
tion of Hanover by the French, and the military operations
in the north of Germany, subsequent to the disastrous bat-
tle of Jena; but it will probably recover, in some degree,
its former prosperity, under the present favourable cir-
cumstances. The university possesses a noble library,
consisting, it is said, of more than 150,000 volumes, a mu-
seum of natural history, an observatory, and other institu-
tions for the advancement of science. Connected with the
university, are the Royal Society, the Philological Semina-
ry, and other scientific and literary institutions. Gottingen
boasts of having cherished many individuals, eminent in
different departments of learning; among whom may be
reckoned Mosheim, Michaelis, Mayer, Lichtenberg, Kast-
ner. Burger, Beckinann, Flitter, Heyne, Blumenbach, Mar-
tens, and many others whose names are familiar to those
who are conversant with continental literature.

The town contains about 12,000 inhabitants, including
the garrison and university. It was formerly a place of
some strength ; but the fortifications have been demolish-
ed, and the rampart converted into a public walk. The
woollen and hat manufactures are, besides the university,
the principal support of the inhabitants.

Those who wish for a more particular description of
Gottingen, and more minute information on the subject of
its literary history, may consult Putter's Ver.'.uch einer Aca-
dem. Gelehrten-Geschichte von der Univ. zu Gottingen, 2
vols. 8vo. 1788; and Rintel's Versuch einer skizz. Besch-
reib. von Gottingen, Berlin 1791, 8vo. (z)

GOUDA, or Tergouw, is a town of Holland, advantage-
ously situated on a branch of the Rhine, called the Issel,
where it receives the Gouw. The town is well fortified,
and has five gates ; but it is principally celebrated for the

GOVERNMENT.

793

painted windows of its magnificent cathedral. Tiiese paint- hood of the town great quantities of bricks and tiles arc

ings were executed principally by Theodore, and Walter made. Pcuchet informs us that there were once in Gouda

Crobcth of Gouda, and they have been preserved with 350 breweries, which supplied with beer Zealand and a

singular care. The principal tiade of the place consists in great part of Flanders. This trade is now greatly dimi-

cordage, and tobacco pipes, and cheese. In the neighbour- nished.

GOYEIINMENT.

Government, in political science, sometimes signifies the
act of carrying the national affairs into execution ; some-
times the person or persons who, as a separate branch of
the constitution, are lawfully charged with that function;
and sometimes it imports the whole frame of the civil po-
lity. In this latter and more comprehensive sense, it is
synonymous with constitution ; and it is in this sense we
purpose here to employ it.

In endeavouring to simplify a subject so infinitely varied
and complex, Aristotle and other ancient writers have re-
duced all systems of govcrrjmcnt to the primary and ele-
mentary forms of Democracy, Aristocracy, and Despotism.
Under the first, the whole body of the people are at once
the sovereign and the subject; laws are enacted by them
alone, and the whole business of the commonwealth, whether
it be the command of armies, the judiciary and ecclesiasti-
cal functions, negotiations with foreign states, or any other
department of affairs, is transacted by officers appointed by
them, and responsible to their authority. Under the se-
cond form, the many are subject to the few, — on whom
superior wealth, talent, and, it may be, virtue, have origin-
ally conferred power, and in whose descenrlants a still fur-
ther accumulation of wealth, — ambition, — and the popular
sentiment in favourof illustrious birth, even where talentand
virtue have no place, have, by a natural and easy transition,
confirmed it. Under a Despotism, no orders are issued,
no measures adopted, no affairs transacted, but with an ex-
clusive reference to the personal gratification of the prince,
or the security of his power. Laws which, under a De-
mocracy, are enacted by the people themselves, and, under
an Aristocracy, bv the nobles, as the rule of public and
private conduct, and the measure of public and private
right, have no existence under a Despotism. The will of
the tyrant is the sole law, — which, therefore, fluctuates
every moment, and the people, their children, and their
property, exist only in subservience to his passions, his
caprices, and his crimes.

Modern writers, and particularly the President Montes-
quieu, have regarded this arrangement of the elementary
forms of government as inaccurate. According to the well
known division of that eloquent philosopher, these forms
are, in like manner, three ; the Republican, the Monarchi-
cal, and the Despotic. Under the first, he comprehends
the Democratical and Aristocratical of the ancients ; his
description of which, as well as of the Despotic form, cor-
responds with theirs. The description of the Monarchical
form differs in nothing from that of the Aristocratical, ex-
cept that, in the latter, the supreme power is exercised by
a combined plurality, but, in the former, by a single indi-
vidual. As in the Aristocratical, too, the administi'ation of
the nobles is controlled by the laws which they have them-
selves enacted ; so, in the Monarchical, that of the prince
is restrained, however imperfectly, by the rules of his own
sovereign appointment ; and this, as in both the Republi-
can forms, constitutes the elementary difference between
it and the Despotic.

But, according to this distribtttion, the ancient arrange-
ment is not so properly inaccurate, as incomplete. The ar-

VoL. IX. Part II.

r-angcment of Montesquieu is precisely that of the Greek
philosopher's, with the addition of the Monarchical form.
The inaccuracy, it would seem, is rather chargeable upon
him, since, in his enunciation of the elementary or simple
forms of government, he limits, after the ancients, the
number to three, whilst, in his description, he enumerates,
(as they appear to us,) four essentially different systems.
For though he has combined the Democratical and .Aristo-
cratical forms under the general term rejiublican, it is diffi-
cult to perceive in what sense the latter is more i-epublican
than the Monarchy of his enumeration. The chai-acter-is-
tic difference, according to his own description, between
an Aristocracy and such a Monarchy, consists in the indi-
viduality in the one case, and, in the other, in the plurality
of persons by whom the sovereign power is exercised. The
people are absolutely excluded alike under both, from all
share in the public authority; alike under both, the con-
cerns of the state, its interests, its property, and its rights,
are in no respect subject to their controul or intcrfereirce.
In what sense therefore can these rights, interests, and
concerns, or (which is hei-e the same thing) the power by
which they are regulated and controlled, be denominated
rejiublican, when applied to the Aristocratical form, which
will not be equally applicable to the Monarchical ?

Whether this enumeration of the elementary govern-
ments, as enlarged by Montesfiuieu, be complete, we shall
not at present stop to inquire ; — that it is chargeable with
the inaccuracy we have alluded to, can scarcely, we think,
be questioned. We rather proceed to observe, (what must
likewise be well known to most of our readers,) that the
same writer, besides describing the ?2ature of the difierent
simpler forms of government, lias, with no less elegance
than, as it appears to us, sound philosophy, indicated the
firinci/ile upon which they chiefly depend for their respec-
tive support.

Under the Democi'atical form, jiublic virtue, pervading
the hearts and conduct of the whole body of the people, is
the animating and sustaining principle. Every selfish and
exclusive purpose must be relinquished by the individual ;
and his country, its glory, and its happiness, must take en-
tire possession of his breast. Proud distinction for popu-
lar government! and happy the people among whom it is
established, if the principle were a sure consequence of
the form !

Under an Aristocracy, (and as a distinct principle is as-
cribed to it, we have here a further indication that it con-
stitutes a fourth form, altogether dift'crcnt from a Demo-
cracy, with which the celebrated writer we have alluded to
had classed it,) moderation, as well on the part of the few
who govern, as of the many v/ho obey, is the principle. If,
among the former, any individual aspire to an over-ruling
share of power, a tendency to the Monarchical or to the
Despotic form, immediately arises ; and if, among the lat-
ter, a sense of public rights, a spirit of patriotism, a dis-
position to interfere with the government, should appear,
a tendency emerges in favour of Democracy.

Under the Monarchical form, the preserving principle
is said to be honour. The word is abundantly vague and

5 H

794

G0VEUN3IENT.

illusory, because the thing signified is commonly so also;
but here it seems to import, that cacli indivitlual of a nu-
merous nobility, (for a Monarchy, in the sense of Montes-
quieu, implies a nobility, — no nobles, no kmg,) as well as
the whole order considered as a separate' body, and even
each individual of the people, as well as the separate class-
es of which they may be composed, are constantly actuat-
ed by a jealousy for their respective and exclusive interests
and consequence. Ever jostling in the pursuit of these
objects; ever suspicious of mutual encroachments; and,
at the same time, alike intent upon securing a portion of
the royal favour, through one or otlier of the many chan-
nels in which, in a Monarchy so nearly absolute, it always
abundantly Hows, they become at once the vigilant instru-
ments of their own controul, and the vain-glorious yet sub-
missive dependants of the sovereign. Without a suffrage
in the enactment of laws, and deriving from the constitu-
tion little power of restraint over the direction of affairs,
they are almost necessarily unconscious of any principle
of a pure and disinterested patriotism. The envied dis-
tinction of the prince's approbation, — preferment, emolu-
ments, honours, become the chief incitement to their pub-
lic exertions : and if thus they are not the legitimate ob-
jects of moral approbation, they often achieve deeds at once
illustrious in themselves and beneficial to their country, as
the proper means of acquiring the royal distinctions to
which they aspire. — The government which has been so
lately annihilated in France, as well as the more ancient
monarchy, and several of the other governments of the
continent of Europe, sufficiently illustrate and justify this
description.

Fear, on the part of the people, is the dismal principle
by which a Despotism must be maintained: nor need any
thing further be added to indicate that system of sangui-
nary and incessant cruelty, which, on the part of the prince,
becomes necessary to uphold his unhallowed empire.

These observations, as well on the primary forms of go-
vernment, as on the principles on which they chiefly de-
pend for their maintenance, are elementary, and could not
with propriety, in a work of this nature, be passed over in
silence. But, in contemplating the subject further, we are
at a loss to determine under what particular aspect to re-
gard it. When the various combinations of which these
primary forms are susceptible, both with one another, and
■with their respective principles, are considered ; the in-
finite varieties in the modification of the most simple as
well as complex system of government, — arising from a
narrower or more extended territory, — from insular or
continental, maritime or inland situation, — a thinly scatter-
ed or crowded population, — the religious ceremonies and
dogmas of the people, and the nature of their ecclesiasti-
cal establishment, — the constantly progressive or retrograde
state of their morals, manners, and intellectual habits, —
their warlike or peaceful, commercial or agricultural ge-
nius,— the character 'of the political institutions of the
neighbouring states with which they have their principal
intercourse, — the accidents of talent or imbecility, disin-
terested purpose or selfish emolument and aggrandise-
ment, which may influence alike the conduct of tiie exe-
cutive and legislative members of the government, — and
the innumerable other circumstances which conspire to
the same infinite variety of modification, — thought is be-
wildered in the complexity of the subject, and finds all at-

tempt at detail utterly overwhelming and impracticable.
To deduce, with any degree of cx;<ctncss, the particulars
which truly and accurately characterize even the most
celebrated governments of ancient or of modern limes,
would be an undertaking sufficiently apjjalling from its
magnitude, and sufficiently hazardous from the obscurity
in which the information to be derived on sucli subjects
seems inevitably to be involved. Nay, to attempt a clear
and satisfactory delineation of our own government, on
the nature of which full and accurate information might
be supposed to be the most accessible, would be bold, per-
haps presumptuous. For how has it fluctuated, by a
thousand minute or more extensive gradations, throughout
the greater period of its history! and though, since the
days of William III. it has acquired a more balanced mo-
tion, and assumed an infinitely more regular and majestic
form, yet how great the diversity of parts of which it is
composed 1 how varied, and often delicate, the machinery
by which it is impelled! and how numerous the interfering
considerations necessary for giving it a safe and steady di-
rection!*

But amidst a speculation so complex and embarrassing,
some general views present themselves of a more manage-
able nature, and of a universal and paramount interest. Of
these, an investigation of the rule by which the legitimacy
of all governments shall be tried, which shall serve at once
as the measure of lawful authority on the part of the sove-
reign, and of obedience on that of the people, seems the
most important. It is a subject unquestionably of some
delicacy, but infinitely less so than, in some countries, the
mercenary partizans of usurped power, — and, in others,
the mistaken and narrow-sighted zeal of many sincere
friends to order, — would represent it ; whilst the advan-
tages to liberty, of preserving it constantly in the public
view, are incalculable. Under arbitrary governments,
such discussions (when, indeed, they can be avowed at all)
are justly alarming to the existing authorities; but under
a constitution like that of Great Britain, they are its worst
enemies, and but little acquainted with its real nature, who
would regard the subject as dangerous.

In pursuing this inquiry, wfe will avoid, as much as pos-
sible, the metaphysical abstractions of mere general rea-
soning. AVe will endeavour, rather, to consider the sub-
ject through the medium of some of the principal events
in the history of our own government; and with these we
will at the same time combine, (whilst we shall take care
to indicate sufficiently our own sentiments,) the opinions
which the nation at large, as well as some of the most dis-
tinguished individuals in it, have from time to time enter-
tained on a topic so interesting. We shall thus, besides
blending historical fact with the less edifying deductions of
bare general discussion, present also the outlines, at least,
of the political branch of our literary history.

Except the close of the eighteenth century, no period in
the British history appears to have been more productive
of political discussion than about tlie time of the civil wars,
in the reign of Charles 1. Before that period, political in-
quiry had made little progress among the people. Oppo-
site claims to the crown had divided their efforts in favour
of the different competitors, and changes in the religious
establishment had very deeply engaged their attention ; but
no question h;id arisen calculated to lead the public mind,
by an easy and obvious connection, to an investigation of

* We could not with propriety, under this general article, have introduced even the outlines of our own government, the theory of which,
the more it is studied, cannot fail to be the more admired. The reader may consult the more appropriate article, England ; and, for still
more detailed information, Illackst. t'omm. b. i.; Montesq. Be L'Espiit tics Lois, 1. xi. c. 6. Stc; and De Lolme. For other individual go-
vernments, see their appropriate articles, Sparta, Kome, &c.

GOVERNMENT.

795

the orisjinal principles upon which all government is
founded, or to a comparison of one sjiccies of government
with anotlier. The two Houses of Parliament were the
only place in whicli political discussion was at all to be
found ; and, even tlierc, it had scarcely ever dared to tress-
pass tlie safe boundaries prescribed to it by tiie executive
authority. A few speculative and learned men alone had
indulged in inquiries of this nature. To them exclusive-
ly the fragments of political science which the general
ruins of antiquity presented, were accessible; and, fired
with the seemly ideas which these had excited, they were
naturally led to emulate their own conceptions of the su-
perstructure. The performances, however, which some
of these men thus produced, were either expressed in a
language with which the people were utterly unacquaint-
ed, or conceived in so subtle and scholastic a manner as
was little fitted to engage pul)lic attention.

But in proportion as the disputes between Charles and
his parliament drew to a crisis, in proportion were the
minds of the people directed to a bolder range of political
^discussion. At fiist, Die limits of the prerogative formed
the only subject of enquiry. By degrees, as the fortunes
of Charles darkened, tlie circumstances nvhich constituted the
total forfeiture of the throne began to be examined. And at
last, when the sovereign was destroyed, and the peers voted
useless, the question assumed the broadest form of which it
was susceptible. The enquiry now was into the best
form of civil jioUty ; and in this enquiry, the whole extent of
political science was developed to the people.

That all lawful authority was derived from them, and
was co-existent only with the just and impartial administra-
tion of it, were considerations of no mean importance, and
accordingly received a share of the public attention ; but
the opportunity was now arrived, when the British people,
freed Irom their ancient government and all its deformities,
might, as they conceived, erect a new superstructure
which, while it secured their own and their descendants fe-
cility, might forever serve as a model to the rest of man-
kind. On this wider subject, therefore, every mind was oc-
cupied. All other conversation was naturally without in-
terest. Every press was employed in furnishing the various
publications which might inform the ignorant, convince the
doubling, or excite the enthusiastic. The blemishes of the
former government needed no exaggeration from the pen
of the political writer, to create a general abhorrence of
every form of polity which bore any resemblance to it.
The people themselves had too recently felt its imperfec-
tions, even while its administration was yet unexasperated
by opposition, and had smarted too severely under the conse-
quences it admitted, when its chief magistrate chose to be
offended. The most opposite form, therefore, was the most
favourite. Every publication, accordingly, consisted either
of arguments in support of a democracy, or detailed some
new and rival plan of government for the approbation and
choice of the people. Nor in this competition of specula-
tive politics, then deemed so glorious, do we find such
names only as are ever ready to serve the purposes of am-
bition, or of avarice. Warmed with the love of ancient li-
berty, and proud to avow their admiration of it, the fairest
schemes of republican government, and the strongest ar-
guments in support ol it, which the minds of a Harrington
and a Milton could devise, or their energetic eloquence
recommend, afford interesting specimens both of the man-
ner in 'vliich the public mind was then occupied, and of
the ability employed in giving it a direction.

But these delusive prospects soon disappeared. The
hope of establishing a republican government became dai-
ly fainter and fainter ; and with it, (hose schemes which had
been so eloquently detailed, and so fondly contemplated.

fiuickly fell into neglect. The views of Cromwell, which
liad always been suspected by some, now began to be un-
derstood by many ; and the vigorous administration by
which he confirmed his usurped jjower, by and by convinc-
ed tlie people that they still ])ossessed a monarchy in every
thing but the name. The death of the Protector, and the
incapacity of his son, lepkinged the nation in ail the mi-
series of anarchy. The partizans of the royal family were
not slack to improve the opportunity they so mucii desired.
By their efl'orls, and the concurrence of a full tide of cir-
cumstances, the proscribed monarch was received into the
bosom of the kingdom, without any limitation of his au-
thority, and with an ardour of popular affection, propor-
tionate to the interruption it had sull'ercd, anti to the calami-
ties and confusion to which the nation had been exposed.

It was accordingly during the reign of Charles H. that
the public mind seems to have been disposed to admit the
exercise of the royal prerogative in as unlimited and dan-
gerous an extent as had ever been possessed by any former
monarch. Still smarting under the desolating conseciuences of
the civil wars, and still remembering the odium wiili which
they had regarded the tyrannical, though energetic, ad-
ministration of the Protector, it is not surprising if the
people began to indulge the opinion, that an uncontrolled
prerogative in the crown was necessary to order and good
government.

The court does not seem to have been insensible to this
favourable state of men's minds for promoting its views.
The nation, it was easy to perceive, had now acquired a
taste for political speculation, which it would be more
practicable to lead in a safe or advantageous course, than
altogether to obstruct. And though the reigning monarch
had little reason to apprehend any immediate opposition to
his power, yet a theory in support of it, would at once gra-
tify the public mind, and might lessen the chance of future
resistance. There was now no demand for plans of govern-
ment. These had had their day. They had fallen into ne-
glect with all, and contempt with many. Monarchy, the
resumed, uncontrolled monarchy, was the idol ; and nothing
was wanting but a systematic detail of the justice and ra-
tionality of the principles upon which it rested.

About this time, accordingly, several writers appeared,
who, either hired immediately by the court, or impelled by
general hopes of reward, endeavoured to perforin so ac-
ceptable a service. Among these, the most celebrated was
Sir Robert Filmer. His book, entitled Patriarcha, seems
to have been by far the most daring and specious attempt
to assign a legitimate and rational origin to absolute mon-
archy. It was daring, not so much because it was an ex-
press and avowed endeavour to establish that form of go-
vernment, in exclusion of every other that had ever been
set up in the world, but to establish it upon the basis of a
divine a/ifiointment : and it was specious, because the mode
of argument, and the style of writing adopted, were such
as, in those times, were likely to make considerable impres-
sion,— the former being chiefly, or altogether, founded in
texts of scripture, and the latter made up of expressions
suflicienily vague and unmeaning to elude detection, in an
age wlien literature was yet but little diffused, or accurately
studied. If not the first to assert ihcjus divinum of kings,
Filmer seems to have been the first, at least, who ventured
to account for its origin, to dcvelope its nature, and to es-
tablish it, avowedly and expressly, upon the basis of argu-
ment.

Aware of the futility of that sort of reasoning which,
while it founded the legitimacy of the sovereign power m
the general or providential arrangements of the Supreme
Being, would at the same time have justified every form of
government, and even every species of crime, (since these
3 H 2

■96

GOVERNMENT.

also fall out, oi- arc permitted in the general arrangements
of Providence), Filmer had recourse, if not to a more loj^i-
cal, at least to a more specious, mode of argument. Texts
of scripture, he conceived, could be found, in whicli might
be traced the legitimacy of modern kings to the appoint-
ment of God himself at the creation of the world. If so, his
object was accomplislied — infidelity in that age not having
yet dared to erect his unhallowed standard among the peo-
ple. Filmer accordingly maintained that God, at tlie crea-
tion of Adam, endowed him with the right of fatherhood,
(as he termed it), absolute and unlimited ; or, in other
■words, with a right of arbitrary dominion over all his off-
spring. Second, That he was endowed in like manner
with a right of absolute dominion over Eve : " Thy desire
shall be unto thy husband, and he shall rule over tnee :" —
in which text he seriously assures us we have very express-
ly the original grant of monarchical government. Third,
That the whole material globe, with all the brute creation,
was his property by right of donation from the same Al-
mighty Being. And, fourth, That these rights, upon
Adam's death, descended to his next heir ; that thence
they descended, in direct succession, to the patriarchs ;
and from them, in similar succession, to modern kings.
These principles he partly asserted, and partly endeavour-
ed to prove, sometimes by producing garbled passages of
scripture, and sometimes by giving to other passages an
unlimited, or, as it would seem, a sophisticated meaning.

It would be frivolous to occupy much time in examin-
ing a theory so ridiculous. It could scarcely, one would
think, have drawn the attention of the Sidneys and the
Lockes to its refutation. Yet, however easy the task, it will
not appear unworthy even of such men, when we consider
the bias of the times, and the impression which Filmer's
book appears to have made upon the public mind. The
philosopher and the patriot felt alike indignant at the insult
which had been offered to their country ; and the employ-
ment of their talents upon a subject so far beneath their
powers, they deemed a sacrifice well due to public virtue.

As Filmer had found it expedient to have recourse to
the standard of public faith for the arguments by which he
had supported his system, so the writeis, to whom we have
just alluded, found it necessary to resort to the same stand-
ard for the arguments by which they were to overturn it.
They denied that there was any text of scripture that as-
serted a right of absolute fatherhood, or unlimited paternal
jurisdiction in Adam ; but, on Uie contrary, maintained,
that neither Adam, nor any other man, ever had a right to
any further paternal jurisdiction than was necessary for the
protection, improvement, and welfare of his children, dur-
ing those years of minority when they were unable to pro-
tect, improve, or provide for themselves; and that this pa-
ternal jurisdiction was more properly termed parental,
since it implied duties that belonged ecjually to Eve, and
every other mother, as to Adam, and every other father, —
the nature of the duties requiring such common jurisdic-
tion. Second, The jurisdiction granted to Adam over Eve,
could not be understood to mean a ftoliticat jurisdiction, or

the right of life and death ; but merely such a right of con-
lroul,as, in matters rcgiuclingtheircoinmoninterest and pro-
perly, would enable the hubband, in the event of opposite
opinions, to decide, and so pievent that endless contention
which would arise, had no superior authority been confer-
red upon either. Third, As the donation whitii God is said
to have given to Adam of the earth, with all the animals
upon it, is nowhere In be found in scripture, so, had it been
given, it could not have been absolutely and exclusively,
but only so far as his own use might require, — it being ab-
surd to suppose, that God would give to one man an ex-
clusive right to what, from its extent, was infinitely beyond
his power of enjoyment, and would, at the same time, call
other rational beings into existence, v/ho should be at this
favoured person's mercy for a foot of ground to stand up-
on, or a morsel of food to support life, ^ux, fourth. Al-
though Filmer had succeeded in establishing these pre-
mises, it did not follow that such absolute rights were to
descend to his next heir. If it did so follow, who was his
next heir ? for God has neither by scripture, nor by human
reason, pointed out a natural and invariable line of succes-
sion in the person of any individual. Gianting however this
also, it was still incumbent on Filmer to shew, not only that
the patriarchs possessed this absolute authority, and that
they possessed it from Adam through this invariable line,
but that it has also come down from them to modern kings
through the same invariable line, — an attempt, which only
requires to be stated to evince its extravagance. But still,
granting even this extravagance, there must be only one
legitimate monarch in the world, only one kitig who reigns
jure divino, derived in this direct line from Adam, and all
the rest must be usurpers and interlopers, against whom
every honest man and sound Christian should raise his arm,
never to be pacified till all the nations of the globe should
be reduced to the arbitrary and exclusive dominion of this
lineal descendant, and true heir ot Adam !

These writers having thus demonstrated the absurdity of
this theory yurf divino of Sir Robert Filmer, they conceiv-
ed it necessary to substitute another, more friendly to liber-
ty, and more consistent with tiuth. They proceeded, ac-
cordingly, to point out what they reganled as the only
foundation and just \\m\\.% oi legitimate government; and
this, they maintained, was the consent ofthcficofile.*

That the consent of the jieofile, they contended, is neces-
sary to all legitimate government, seems not to admit of
argument; for the very notion of such a government im-
plies the notion of a contract between those that govern
and those that obey. By wliat other right, or upon what
other foundation, can any form of govemmeEil which is to
be regarded as legitimate, that is, binding upon the people
to preserve and obey it, be either originally established, or
afterwards exercised ? Various other foui.dations of legiti-
mate government, indeed, have been pointed out and de-
fended ; but all of them appear to be sufficiently irrational.
The doctrine of the right of conquest, where such conquest
has been occasioned by the repeated and aggravated hosti-
lity of the party conquered, is perhaps the least exception-

* As Filmer appears to have been the first, if not to suggest the doctrine of absolute monarcliy/'we divino, at least the firsl avowedly and
systematically to explain and argue it; so Mr Locke, if not the first to suggest the consent of the people, as the only i'oundatlon of lawful
government, seems to have been the first who entered, at any length, into a developement and defence of the pnnciple. Fur although the
celebrated Discourses of Algernon Sidney were written previously to Mr Locke's Treatises, and embrace the same principle, yet t'ley were
not given to the public by Mr Toland till after Locke's Treatises had appeared, and accordingly do not seem to have been known to that phi-
losopher.

We mav here observe, that the opinions of the Tories approximated to the extravagance of Filmer's system ; those of the Whigs consisted,
it would seem, of most of the reasonings and inferences of Mr Locke's — We may add, tlial, by tlie people, Locke a[id his followers cvidii.tly
meant the nation at large, in contradistinction to the sovereign magistracy, of whatever nature that may be ; — not that needy and despeiate
class of men, who, in every country, and most of all under the freest constitutions of government, are always found opposed to the orderly,
industrious, and fortunate.

GOVERNMENT.

797

able. But besides that the arbitrary form of government
establislicd in consequence ol conqutst, involves the inno-
cent with tiie guilty, it is a punishment dispioportionatc to
the crime. The victor, in such a case, has no other right
than to mdemnify himself sufiiciently lor the injury he may
have sustained, either by former provocations, or the actual
war. He can only demand compennation for tlie Jiast,and
security for the future. And this he may, in most instances,
suBiciently obtain, by making it a losing bargain to his ene-
mies to offer him injury. This loss, indeed, must be pro-
portionate to the circumstances of the case ; but no case
can be figured, where it ought to amount to absolute authori-
ty on the part of the conqueror ; that is, to slavery on the
part of the people. A few captives taken in actual war
may be reduced to that unhappy state, where the law of
retaliation, and only where such law demands it ; but no
national offence can infer the punishment of national sla-
very. It is possible to imagine cases, where security for
the future may requite the conquered to submit to the
government of the conqueror ; but such government can-
not be legitimate, unless it be as free as is compatible with
that security.

It would seem, therefore, they argued, that the doctrine
of the conse7it of the fieople, as forming the only foundation
for legitimate government, requires only to be sufficiently
explained, in order to be acknowledged.

This consent they conceived to be of two kinds. First,
that which is implied in consequence of certain acts of
the people ; and, second, that which is direct, and expressly
conventional.

First, The greater part of the governments, as well
ancient as modern, to which the epithet of legitimate can
with any propriety by applied, have been of the first des-
cription. They have all been originally constituted, and
afterwards exercised, in consequence of the implied con-
sent of the people ; an implication by no means doubtful
in its nature, or feeble in its conventional effects ; but, on
the contiary, more generally, as well as more powerfully
binding, perhaps, than that consent which is direct and
express.

These governments have been the same in their origin,
and similar in the first periods of their progress ; but, for
the most part, suffitii;ntly varied in the subsequent and
concluding seras of tlieir liistory. At first, the savage who
roamed the desert, was at once the father and supreme
civil governor of his f.miily. Convenience, and the ties
of blood, soon united a certain number of families into a
tribe, village, or horde. The same natural sentiment of
confidence and respect, which had impelled the children
of a family to admit the father's authority, impelled the
several families of the same tribe or village to admit, in
time of peace, the authority of those individuals amongst
them, who were most celebrated for wisdom and experi-
ence; and, in time of ivar, of th.it single individual who was
most renowned for his marlial skill and achievements. But
as war among rude nations (alas ! in more civilized periods
also) ever occupies mucn more of the public attention
than peace, and as, from its nature, there can be only one
supreme leader at a time, sufficient oppoilunity is then
afforded hicn of acquiring a greater share of public respect,
and of being regarded as of greater national importance,
than those individuals in whose authority he is only a
sharer in time of peace. Hence the consideration which
the leader or king, in civilized as well as in rude periods,
acquires over the other individuals of the civil administra-
tion, whether that consist of a S'-nate, (as it comes after-
wards to be termed.) a popular assembly, or both. This
leader or king, as well as the other members of the civil
administration, are not, in the earlier periods of the his-

tory of political government, expressly elected by the con-
curring voice, by the majority, or by any other avowedly
conventional act of the people. Their experience, their
wisdom, and their virtues — such virtues as men in those
ruder periods can understand and admire — invest them
with authority, and render them the natural objects of
respect and oljcditncc. The i)eople soon perceive the
beneficial effects of submission, and, by a thousand dif-
ferent acts, testify their concurrence in a government so
naturally formed, and so advantageously administered. As
the king, or any of the other rulers, dies, or from any other
cause becomes unfit for dischari^ing the duties of his sta-
tion, another, of similar accomplishments, succeeds him
by the same natural means, and receives the same natural
obedience. For obvious reasons, the successor is com-
monly the immediate descendant, or intimate friend, of the
deceased, unless a striking deficiency of capacity disqualify
him. As the ideas, however, of property extend and im-
prove, and as other alterations take place in the progress
of society, men come to acquiesce in that hereditary suc-
cession to civil authority, for which kings and rulers now
begin to struggle. The people perceive its tendency to
exclude rival and tumultuary pretensions to power, and,
in this respect, soon actually experience its advantageous
consequences. Their original acquiescence is confirmed
by their voluntary obedience, and their acknowledgment of
the legitimacy both of the constitution, and of the admin-
istration, of the government, is sufficiently declared by
their reiterated acts of co-operation, as well in forming as
in executing the laws, and in modifying, when necessary,
the form itself of the civil polity.

But this natural and just order of things is too often in-
terrupted and broken. Usurpation may cither occupy the
place of those rulers, whether supreme or subordinate,
whom alone the people acknowledge as lawful ; or tyranny
may characterise the conduct of those rulers themselves.
In both cases, the administration of government, and, as
an usual, or rather almost necessary consequence, the
form of government itself, have undeniably become illegi-
timate ; and the people, if they can yet command sufficient
force, or whenever they choose to risk the attempt, may,
with perfect justice, endeavour to displace and punish tlie
usurper and tyrant. Should they neither command suffi-
cient force, nor choose to risk the attempt, the govern-
ment of the usurper may become legitimate, by the justice
with which it is afterwards administered, and by reiterated
acts of sufficiently implied consent on the part of the peo-
ple : but that of tlie tyrant can never become so. He may
hold his people in a precarious subjection, if they choose
to remain in his territory, by the principle of fear ; but
none of his enactments, or of their involuntary compliances,
can ever render his authority legitimate, or deprive the
people of the right to displace and punish him when they
can, and to substitute another governor, as well as to ap-
point another form of government more equitable and
friendly to liberty.

Second, That consent of the people, they further main-
tained, which is direct and expressly convenaonal, although
by no means of such frequent occurrence in the history of
civil government as the former species of consent, is yet
sufficiently frequent to prove its existence, and give an
idea of its nature. Among rude tribes, we find instances
of general assemblies of the people, met for the express
purpose of electing their rulers by a majority of suffrages.
The great civil magistrates of several of the states of
Greece, and particularly the archons and other civil officers
of Athens, together with the consuls and most of the other
magistrates of Rome, were appointed periodically by the
act of the people. Most of the ancient colonies also, whe-

'98

GOVERNMEN'^

ther tlicy originated from Greece, Rome, or Carthage,
were left at liberty to cstiiblisli such a form of civil polity,
and to choose such lulcrs, as tlie colonists themselves
thought best ; the respective mother countries claiming no
authority over them, Liut only soliciting from their friend-
ship, consanguinity, or bounty, assistance in times of gene-
ral difficulty and danger. The government established by
the United Provinces in the icign of Philip III. of Spain,
by America in 1782, and, proud reflection ! by Great Hri-
tain herself in 1688, may be quoted as further examples,
in which this direct and expressly conventio7ial consent of
the people was exercised.

But as the theory of Filmer was fated to fall before the
opposition of Sidney and Locke, so the system which these
distinguished men had set up in its stead, was, in its turn,
exposed to an attack, which, if less efficacious, proceeded
notwithstanding from a quarter not less respectable. Aliout
the middle of the last century, Mr Hume and some other
writers undertook to shew, that the doctrine of the consent
of the people, as the only basis of legitimate government,
was altogether erroneous and visionary.

If it be meant, said they, that the contract, implied or
direct, between the sovereign and the people, is the agree-
ment by which men in a savage state form the social union,
and from which every community is originally derived,
we admit the accuracy of the fact, but deny its obligation
on men in the advanced stages of society : Every govern-
ment that has endured for any period, has undergone the
most entire changes since its first establishment ; nor can
a consent or voluntary acquiescence, which was given some
centuries ago, be binding under a totally different aspect
of the political arrangement.

Again, in those instances, they further observed, which
seem the most favourable to the doctrine of the consent of
the people, the real exercise of the right has been alto-
gether imperfect or illusory. In the most perfect and ex-
tensive republics of antiquity, not a tenth part of the peo-
ple voted either for the original establishments, or on the
enactment of any subsequent law ; and even at the boasted
Revolution of 1688 itself, the Prince of Orange was brought
over, and seated on the throne, by a mere junto of the Eng-
lish people. But, it was further said, if, even in these
instances, the principle has in fact no place, how much
less shall we find it realized in any of the other govern-
ments, which either actually exist, or which history has
recorded ? In perhaps all of them, it is not difficult to trace
the sovereign authority to conquest, usurpation, donation
by testament, or some other mode of fraud or violence.
Hereditary descent prevails the most generally ; yet it
would be bold to affirm that none of these governments
were lawful, or that the people were never sensible of any
obligation to submit to their authority. In fine, " though
an appeal," says Mr Hume, in the concluding part of his
Essay on the Original Contract, " though an appeal to
general opinion may justly, in the speculative sciences of
metaphysics, natural philosophy, or astronomy, be deemed
unfair and inconclusive, yet in all questions with regard to
morals, as well as criticism, there is really no other stand-
ard by which any controversy can ever be decided ; and
nothing is a clearer proof that a theory of this kind is
erroneous, than to find that it leads to paradoxes repug-
nant to the common sentiments of mankind, and to the
practice and opinion of all nations and all ages. The doc-
trine which founds all lawful government on an original
contract, or consent of the people, is plainly of this kind ;
nor has the most noted of its partizans, in prosecution of

it, scrupled to affirm, t/iac absolute monarchy is inconsis-
tent ivUli civil society, and so can be no form of civil go-
vernment at all, and that the sttfircme fio'.aer in a state can-
not take from any man, by taxes andhnfiositioiis, any Jiart
of Ins jirofierty, •without his oian consent, or that of his re/ire-
sentatives* VViiat authority," continues Mr Hume, " any
moral reasoning can have, which leads into opinions so wide •
of the general practice of mankind, in everyplace but this
single kingdom. It is easy to determine."

In the remarks which we have already made, when de-
tailing what we conceive to be the just and fair state of
the doctrine of the consent of the people, we have already,
perliaps, anticipated the proper answer to some of these
objections. We shall, therefore, only very briefly take
further notice of them.

1. It would be improper to say that so candid a mind,
as Mr Hume's is represented to have been, has intention-
ally sophisticated the doctrines of Locke, or that so great
a philosopher was not always eager to discover truth,
whether it agreed with his own political opinions or not.
Yet we cannot but think, that the careful peruser of Mr
Locke's book, can have no difficulty in reconciling the
passage in question to the " general practice of mankind."
For it is most obvious, as well from the whole scope of
the work, as from the uiideniable and notorious nature of
the facts themselves, that Mr Locke could never mean to
deny the actual ejcistence of absolute monarchy in the
world, or that the supreme power in a state did not often
actually take part of a man's property without his own
consent, or that of his representatives. It is plain that he
only meant to affirm, that absolute monarchy was incon-
sistent with such a state of society, as, from its internal
security, and the innumerable advantages thence arising,
might with propriety be termed civil ; and that the supreme
power in a state could not lawfully take any part of a man's
property without his own consent, or that of his represen-
tatives. Indeed, the opposers of this doctrine seem always
to have taken it for granted, that its advocates maintained
its applicability to all the different governments which
have ever actually appeared in the world. Neither was
Locke nor Sidney so little conversant with the history of
mankind, as not to know the various sources of fraud and
violence, from which political establishments had, in fioint
of fact, too often proceeded. All that they meant to
affirm was, that no government could be regarded as latu-

ful, that is, exercising its functions upon any obligatory
principle, where the unequivocal, though it might be tacit,
consent of the people actually existing under it, was not
interposed.

2. It is true, that in none of the instances in which the
consent of the people was most directly exercised, did it
arise from the universal suffrage, or even, perhaps, from
a fair and totally unbiassed majority of the people. It is
sufficient if this conventional consent was given in as per-
fect a manner, or as nearly so, as the nature and structure
of human society will admit. An abstractedly perfect ex-
pression of the popular consent is impossible. Nor can
they be accused of supporting an illusory principle, who
would rest the legitimacy of government upon that consent
of the people which is expressed by such a majority as,
from the very nature of society, it is reasonable to expect,
or practicable to obtain.

3. We grant that it is impossible, in every instance, to
ascertain the precise period when this consent of the peo-
ple may be considered as fully and unequivocally express-
ed, or to distinguish between that apparent consent which a
tyrant or usurper may exact, and that which is voluntary

" Locke on Government, ch.ip. vii. sect. 90.''

GOVEilNMKNT.

'90

and free. But tlie principle is not, therefore, the less real.
Pirates, or banditti, may seize a man's person, and carry
him into captivity. In that situation he may find it his
interest to serve his masters with alaciity and zeal. Yet
nobody would thence infer, that the authority exercised
over him was lawful, or that the assent which he gave to
it was voluntary and free. None will deny, that tliosc un-
happy men who, in different parts of the world, exist in a
state of slavery, have a right to revolt whenever tliey can;
yet, from the circumstances of their birth, and the manner
in which they have been brought up, this right is but im-
perfectly vniderstood by many of thtni, anti perhaps, for
the most part, not recognised at all. But that it belongs
to them, is not the less certain. The case is the same in
reality, though not in degree, with any people whose gov-
ernment exists otherwise than by their consent alone. The
neutral observer may be uncertain, whether or not they
are a free people, and they may themselves have employ-
ed little thought upon the matter ; but that t/ie right-, not-
withstanding, to adapt the government to their own views
of national felicity is inherent in them, seems unquestion-
able.— Again, though it be impossible, in most instances,
precisely to fix the period when the national consent may
Jirat be regarded as fully and unequivocally expressed in
favour of the government, yet, when it is once actually
interposed, little doubt of its reality can exist. It may
safely be aflirmed, that the government of the American
States is free ; that is, that the fwofile are sensiblt; that it is
co-existent only with their consent, and that the obligatory
nature ot its acts proceeds from the same source. The like,
for a similar reason, may be contidently affirmed of our
own government. That the governments of Spain and
Turkey are not free, may as safely be affirmed, since it is
impossible that this consciousness of consent can, in these
instances, exist on the part of the people. We may add,
that it is precisely for this reason that these governments
seem ready to receive any new form, and that so many of
the governments of Europe lately expired without one po-
pular efl'ort to save them.

It will not, we apprehend, be alleged, that, after all,
this principle of the consent of the people is of little in-
fluence in the actual conduct of nations, and that men, for
the most part, submit to their respective governments,
and regard them as lawful, from habit, prejudice, or edu-
cation. It would be diflicult, we readily admit, to estimate,
with any precision, the efi'ects which the principle has pro-
duced, either in ancient or modern limes. But from what
source, we would inquire, did all the energy of the Greek
and Roman character, in the best days of these states, pro-
ceed \ Whence was each individual conscious of a degree
of political importance, of which most modern nations seem
to have little concepiion ? It obviously arose from the con-
viction with which every man was impressed, that not only
each act, but the very existence of the government, de-
pended, in some measure, upon his individual concur-
rence. It was this conviction that made him proud of his
country : it was the principle that incited him to every ef-
fort for her prospeiity, or exposed him to every danger
for her glory. Nor in modern times has the principle been
altogether inefficient. The policy, indeed, has prevailed
of discountenancing it as iiiuch as possible; and as most
of the feudal governments of Europe arose in utter viola-
tion of it, so their subsequent aim has been to suppress it
as seditious and criminal. Yet it is to this sentiment chiefly,

as the unfailing and copious fountain of all her exertions,
that our own country has so long owed, and still so emi-
nently maintains, her splendid distinction among nations.
The latter periods also of the history of America and of
Europe aflbrd eventful instances of its more general dif-
lusion, and seem yet to support the hope of its further
progress. It docs not appear idle, therefore, to speculate
upon this priiiciple. Let us, besides the example of our
own political institutions, — of which when it ceases to be
the actuating spirit, they will cease to be worth [.reserv-
ing,— expressly divulge its nature and effects. Let us
impress it on the general mind. We shall thereby create
a perpetually living motive to liljcral action, which, in pro-
portion as it is diffused, will controul despotism, and ex-
tend the triumphs of liberty.*

But as those philosophers who overturned the system of
Filmer erected another in its place, did Mr Hume and his
followers offer, in their turn, a substitute for that which
they had opposed \ We think not. In comparing the his-
tory of that great writer with his Political Essays, it is not
easy, we believe, to discover any distinct and consistent
principle, by which he would try the lawfulness of any
form of civil government. At one time, he would seem
to have regarded as legitimate every government which
was once established, and, from whatever motive, acqui-
esced in by the people : a doctrine which appears to lead,
without any circuit, to the encouragement of usurpation,
and the exercise of tyranny. At another time, he appears
to have reposed in the very principle he had been combat-
ing. " The observation," says he, " of our general and
obvious interests, is the source of all allegiance, and of
that moral obligation which we attribute to it. What ne-
cessity, therefore," he continues, " to found the duty of al-
legiance or obedience to magistrates on that of fidelity,
or a regard to promises ; and to suppose, that it is the
consent of each individual which subjects him to govern-
ment, when it appears that both allegiance and fidelity
stand precisely on the same foundation, and are both sub-
mitted to on account of the apparent interests and neces-
sities of human society." The interests which are here
meant, must be those advantages which appear to the
mind of the people as well worthy of preservation ; and,
consequently, their adherence and consent to the govern-
ment from which these advantages proceed, or by which
they are protected, is implied; since, were they to with-
draw this consent, the government would become preca-
rious, or actually perish, and with it, consequently, those
interests for whose sake alone they had formerly support-
ed it. The question, therefore, in this case, seems to re-
solve itself into the mere propriety of the appellation by
which the principle has been distinguished ; — a point of
too little importance to merit consideration. Call it the
consent of the people, or a setise of their own interests, it
is of no consequence, provided they be made sufficiently
sensible that there can be no legitimate government that
is not established for their good, and co-existent only with
their opinion that it is so.

The philosophical scepticism in which Mr Hume indul-
ged, necessarily arose, perhaps, from the very nature of
several of the subjects upon which he employed his ex-
quisite powers ; yet we need not extend the remark to the
principle we have been considering. It would seem to
lie too near the surface, to elude a penetration much fee-
bler than that of Mr Hume. In fact, at the time that phi-

* Any endeavour to fix prospectively the exact amount of disorder in the constitution, or actual administration, of a government, which
would warrant a renunciation of the national allegiance, would be sufficiently absurd, nor is here contemplated. All we mean is, an un-
ceasing recognition of the principle.

800

GRA

losophcr wrote,' a coalition of parlies was the wish of
every good man in the comnuiiiity. The iriends of the
exiled family were still numerous in the nation. A junto
favourable to their interests had recently been discovered
in the cabinet itself; and a rebellion, countenanced and
supported by the power of France, had actually broken
out for the puipose of restorinij them to the throne. It
is not therefore to be wondered, if such men as Mr Hume,
who might be supposed capable of influencing, in some
measure, the public mind, should endeavour, if not by
reconciling, at least mitigating, tUe principles by which
the opposite parties were actuated, to moderate their pas-

GRA

sions, and encourage unanimity. — Philosophy may some-
times preserve silence in the cause of truth ; but can sne,
consistently with her obligations to the moral interests of
mankind, ever actually raise her voice in opijosilion to her
real sentiments ? Can she ever delight to sacrifice the
sternness of her dictates, even on the altar of public peace J
(... i..)

GOUT. See Medicine.

GOZO. See Malta.

GRACCHUS. See Rome.

GRACE. See Theology.

GRADUATION.

Graduation is the name given to the most delicate, dif-
ficult, and important branch of mathematical instrument
making : it gives to the instrument the means of ascer-
taining the dimensions of objects, or their distance irom
each other, according to its nature, whether linear or an-
gular measure is required.

The substance of this article was intended to have been
placed under the equally appropriate title of Dividing,
and was partly written with that intention. Our having
indiscriminately used both these terms, is owing not only
to this circumstance, but also because the latter is exclu-
sively used by the workman.

We believe that in every country in Europe, clock-
making was the earlier art, and that clock-makers were
the first who fabricated mathematical instruments. But
as the excellence of the time-piece depends not at all
upon the accuracy of the division of its dial-plate, we may
Buppose that instruments, the perfection of which rests
principally upon the correctness of division, came from
their hands in a very rude state.

As clocks, however, must at first have raised clock-
makers out of brasiers, smiths, or other workers in me-
tal nearest allied to the nature of the work; so instru-
ments must have made instrument-makers, and for this
purpose the clock-maker was more than half formed.
One would think, indeed, that makers of compasses, dials,
rules, astrolabes, &c. from the great usefulness of these
instruments, must have existed prior to clock-makers,
and ot course the graduation of them ; but however that
might be, if there was about the middle of the 17th cen-
tury any such distinct trade in this country, those who
practised it were little thought of by men of science; for
the instruments invented by Hook were made by Tompion;
and both Tompion and Graham in succession made instru-
ments for the royal observatory.

It was the opinion of the late Mr Smeaton, that Mr
Abram Sharp, the assistant of Flamstead, was the first
who cut accurate divisions upon astronomical instruments ;
he having, about the year 1689, constructed and graduated
for the royal observatory, a mural sextant of 6S feet radius,
which in the hands of Flamstead rendered essential ser-
vice to astronomy. Whether Mr Sharp was bred up to
any mechanical business, or whether the whole was the
efi'ort of his own genius, is now unknown.

There weie, however, instrument-makers in the early
part of the 18lh century, who, in the art of dividing, might
at least have equalled those celebrated clock and watch-
makers, whose names have been mentioned. Some of the
itorks of Rowley are still extant, and bear such evident

proofs of neatness and accuracy, that many a workman of
the present day might be proud to own them. The elder Sis-
son, contemporary with, or a little later than Rowley, like
him, constructed and graduated large instruments with
success ; but neither the manner of performing the work
of graduation, when beyond tiie liniils of their dividing-
plates, nor the method pursued by Sliarp, has been re-
corded. It was in the workshop of Sisson, that the eight
feet mural quadrant, several large zenith sectors, &c. of
Graham, were executed. That the latter should be em-
ployed in the construction of them, rather than any one
who was exclusively an instrument-maker, was owing, no
doubt, to his superior abilities as a general mechanician,
his knowledge in astronomy, and his proficiency in making
observations, as well as to his sound judgment, and nice
execution of the most essential parts of whatever he un-
dertook to construct.

About the year 1727, the late Mr Bird, then a rustic
lad of Bishop Aukland, observing the unequal divisions
and coarse-engraving of a clock dial-plate, determined
upon doing one himself. The success of this attempt was
the first step that led to the developement of powers, which,
during a long life, proved beneficial to science, and ren-
dered his name an honour to his country. It was from the
elder Sisson, to whom he served a short apprenticeship,
and his acquaintance with Graham, that Bird learned every
thing that was not derived from his own resources. Bird and
the younger Sisson were contemporaries and rivals for
fame, were !)oth men of considerable abilities and appli-
cation. But the superior ingenuity of the latter lost its
effect with the best informed, when brought into compe-
tition with the accurate execution and sound judgment of
the former.

Mr Ramsden followed the next in time ; and perhaps
gained greater credit in his line of business, than any pre-
ceding artist. The dividing-engine, which he invented,
by rendering small instruments almost as accurate as large
ones had been before, will shed lasting and well-merited
honour upon his name. In his larger works, however, he
was not so happy, although they were graduated better
than any previous to his day. Too vain of inxention, he
despised the patterns left by his predecessors, and gave to
his works complex and unsteady forms.

The late Mr John Troughton, about twelve years young-
er than Ramsden, was equal, if not superior, to him in the
graduation of instruments. But his chiel works, perform-
ed in his own attic, were destined to shed honour upon the
names of the first mathematical instrument sellers in Lon-
don ; and by the time his merit became known to the pub-

• Tiie fii-st part ci' Jlr Hume's Political Essavs was published in 1742, aiiri the second in 1752.

GRADUATION.

801

lie, his youn;j;er brother had taken the lead. Bvit we must
close these short biographical sketches with the labours of
the dead.

We are aware that these desultory remarks will ill sup-
ply the place of a regular history of tlie art ; a thint^ which
vc cannot attempt, and which is perhaps impossil)lc. To
describe thinj^s as they are, and to give the methods as
hitherto practised l)y eminent men, will certainly be more
useful: and in doing this, as often as they have written
upon the subject, their diflcrent modes of practice shall
be given in their own words.

Of those numerous contrivances, which have neither in-
genuity of conception, nor have been found useful in their
clay, we shall say nothing ; for it would be idle to obstruct
their natural passage to oblivion.

For the sake of perspicuity, we shall divide this article
into three Sections, containing, 1. Common gradualion-,2.
Jingine graduation, and 3. Original^graduafion.

Sect. I. Common Graduation.

In this section of our article will be shewn the method
of taking copies from a pattern, which has already been
laid down originally ; or, as indeed is now generally prac-
tised, taking copies from a copy. This part also includes
original dividing, in cases where the usual patterns do not
apply, and where the utmost degree of accuracy is not re-
quired.

It will here be necessary to describe the apparatus or
tools used by the person who divides in common. And
first the dividing plate must be noticed. Its dimension va-
jies from 14 to 30 inches in diameter. It is either an en-
tire plate, or a broad rim, connected with the centre by four
or more radii, and rendered inflexible by circular rings, or
edge bars underneath. The extreme border is divided
into degrees and quarters ; and just within this another
circle, into degrees and third parts. Within are usually
put such numbers as are reciuired for the dial of the pe-
rambulator; Gunter's line of numbers arranged in a cir-
cle, and other logarithmic lines, are sometimes inserted.
There are also often to be found tans^cnts in hundredth
parts of the radius, and the difference of the hypotlienuse
and base, as applied to the theodolite ; also the equation of
time for dialling; the points of the compass. Sec.

There is always in the centre of the plate a circular hole,
•which should be truly perpendicular to the surface. Into
this is nicely fitted a pin or arbor, which also fits the cen-
tre hole in the circle or arc to be divided; and while the
operation is carried on, is the principal connection between
them. Fig. 1. Plate CCLXXVIII. shews the dividing
plate, and its connection with a compass ring : also a pair
of holdfasts for keeping the work from turning round.
One of these fastenings would be sufficient, were it not
necessary to remove one of them, when its position ob-
structs the work. An index of tempered steel, usually
made of a saw blade, has one of its edges made very
straight: At one end a plate of brass, as at A, is rivetted
fast to this index, having at its extremity a right angular
notch, reaching a little beyond the blade : the angular point
should be exacilv in a line with the edge of the index.
Tliis notch receiving the arbor of the plate, will always di-
rect its edge to the centre. The length of the index should
be equal to the radius of the plate. To the exterior end,
and below it. is fixed a secondary index B, reacliingas far
inwards as the original lines of the plate extend, whicli also
must have its edge directed to the centre ; but it need not
be exactly in the line of the other, and will be better seen
if it is placed a little to the ri^ht. The figure shews this,
and also an arrangement of nuts and screws, hy which the

Vol. IX. Part II.

distance of the two parts is to be adjusted, according to
the thickness of the work, so that the secondary one may
be flat upon the plate. The generality of dividers, instead
of this contrivance, bend the index to suit the different
planes of the work and plate ; but this is a very bungling
method ; indeed, when the borders of instruments arc re-
(juired to be divided on feather edges, as is the case with
protractors, bending is necessary : a very llexiblc index
slioidd in surh cases be employed, in order that the pres-
sure of the hand may bring it in contact with the inclining
plane. But even here a secondary index might be employ-
ed to advantage, having its position adjustable to the plane
which is to receive the divisions.

The dividing-knife must next be described. This little
implement is represented in full size, by Fig. 2. It con-
sists of a blade and handle ; the former should be made of
the very best steel, and the latter of beech-wood. The
cutting edge should be exactly of the same thickness that
the divisions are intended to be ; it should be quite straight,
and in a line with the handle. This edge must not be
sharp like that of a common knife, but rounding, so as to
present to the surface to be divided a small semicircle,
whose radius is equal to half the breadth of the line it is
to make. At the back the blade should be about a fifteenth
of an inch in thickness. The left side, which is the front and
downwards in the figure, should be ground flat; but the
opposite side must be chamfered in a faint curve from back
to edge. The extreme end of the blade makes with the
line of the edge, an angle of about 70°. A small chamfer
on the side to the right, broad at the back, but vanisliing at
the edge, reduces the end to an equal thickness. A semi-
circular recess is made in the edge of the blade, near the
handle, which affords a relief when the tool is sharpened,
and is farther useful by receiving the inner side of the end
of the tniddle finger. For the accommodation of this fin-
ger also, a part of the ferrule of the handle is cut away, as
represented in the Figure. There is a convenience in the
back of the blade being formed into a curve so as to make
it narrow at the point, for without diminishing its strength,
it enables the operator to see his work better. Such is the
form of the dividing knife, an important tool in every branch
of the art, as in the hands of the best workmen it has con-
tinued unaltereil since the time of Bird. Had we, indeed,
been inclined to describe it as found in the workshop of an
ordinary divider of the present time, we should only have
had occasion to say, that it exactly resembles the butcher's
cleaver; and, perhaps, we might add, is commonly directr
ed with about equal science.

The action of the dividing knife is directly the reverse
of the p;raver ; the latter being pushed outwards, cuts away
a fibre in the line of its course, leaving the rest of the sur-
face of the metal undisturbed; but the former is drawn in-
wards, and without producing chips, ploughs a furrow, and
the metal displaced lises in a bui' on each side. The knife
is held very much like a pen, only the handle must be quite
home between the thumb and fore-finger, which being
placed upon the ferrule, directly over the back, is, by its
pressure, the chief ai^ent in chiving depth to the divisions,
the thumb and middle finger acting as supporters, wiiile
the other two fingers, as in writing, prop the hand. Tiie
knife is held at an an'^le of about 45° with the plane to be
divided, and is used with the fiat side in contact with the in-
dex before described. If it has an inclination of its own
to deviate either to the ri.<Tht or left, it is not in a condition
fit to be used ; for in the former case it would require too
hard a pressure of the hand to keep it in contact with the
index, and in the latter woidd undeiniine it, and iii either
case it would make crooked lines. It is therefore necessary
to tiv it in this veipect, before the conimenceaiciii uf dl-

5 1

802

GUA^DUATION.

viding. If, on drawing a line without an index, it deviates
to tlic right, then is the vertex of the scniiciicular edge
too near that side; but when that vertex is too near the
lel'l, tlie linile will deviate the contrary way. The use
of the small chaniler before described, is to make the
two sides of the knife exactly similar at the point, were
it not for this contrivance, the bur would not rise equally
on l)oth sides, and the strokes, where they meet the bound-
ing lines, would have an appearance of crookedness.

Preparatory to making tlie divisions, tlic circular lines
must be drawn for limiting the length of the strokes:
these are made with the well known apparatus called a
beam-compass ; but it is only necessary to trace the lines
with it. They are to be made of sufficient breadth and
depth by the dividing-knife, which, when sharpened as
above directed, and guided by the hand alone, will aptly
follow the slightest mark.

The bur is generally taken off the lines with a tool call-
ed a scraper, and then cleared with the knife. After this
the surface is rubbed with charcoal (that from the willow
is best) and water, which leaves the surface smooth, with-
out producing a gloss that would be unpleasant to the eye.

Having been thus minute in the description of the tools,
that of their application will be short indeed.

A compass ring, for instance, as before mentioned, is at«
tached to the dividing plate, for the purpose of being gra-
duated ; its zero, or N, being placed so, that the index,
when set to it, may agree also with the zero oi the plate.
In this position of things, the operator must drop the point
of the dividing knife into the line on the plate, and, press-
ing the index to prevent its moving, cut the corresponding
stroke upon the ring. He must be careful to hold the
knife steady, and in exactly the same position, while he
sets and cuts. His eye must be directed to the left side of
the knife, in order that he may see that he holds it in con-
tact with, and parallel to, the edge of the index. The in-
dex is now drawn forwards something more than the value
of a division, and the knife being fixed in a second line, it
is then pushed back into contact with it, and a second
stroke cut as before ; thus proceeding from right to left
until the circle is completed. In dividing upon metals,
this work is laborious for the hands, which will require
fvt(|uent intervals of rest : during these thu divider should
examine his work with a magnifying glass. In cases
where the hand has not power to cut the strokes deep
enough at once, which does not unfrequcnlly happen, in-
stead of cutting twice, the operator will proceed with more
ease and expedition, if he goes round by single cutting, and
afterwards completes his work : for, in the latter part, he
will not have occasion for eitiier the dividing plate or the
index ; the knife, if well set, will follow the former strokes
with accuracy and neatness. The bur must be worn off
the divisions by rubbing the surface with charcoal and wa-
ter, as was before done with the circular lines ; but the
scraper must not be employed.

Common dividing, as it applies to straight lines, is so si-
milar to circular dividing, that little need be said about it.
Figs. 3. and 4. represent the necessary apparatus; the di-
viding knife is common to both. AA is the pattern, and
B IS a scale to be divided into inches and tenths : CCC re-
presents what is called tlie dividing square. This tool
consists of a thin tempered piece of steel, extending, in
the line of the pattern, about six inches, and at right an-
gles somewhat more, and a stock about two-tenths of an
inch shorter and narrower than the parallel part. This lat-
ter is formed of two pieces of brass ; one above the steel,
and the otlier below it, to which they are securely rivetted.
The stock and blade are even with each other at the out-
side and left end : the projecting part of the steelj in the

line of the pattern, lies upon the latter, preventing the
square from tilting, and that at the end places the stock
out of the way when the edge of the blade reipiires to be
repaired. As it is in some cases necessary that the square
should be used when placed upon the farther side of the
work, the two parts of the stock should both be accurately
at right angles to the blade ; the best way to secure which
properly is this : — After having made the holes which are
to receive the rivets, remove tlie steel, and pin the two
branches of the stock together ; then, with \.\tc filane, n\ake
the inner edges straight and even with each other. In or-
der to prove that the blade is at right angles with the
stuck, take a broad scale of brass, having its edges truly
straight and parallel, a thing by no means difficult to pro-
cure, and, first applying the sipiare to one edge, draw a
line across the scale with the dividing knife, and then, ap-
plying it to the other edge of the scale, with the same side
uppermost, draw another line extremely near the former.
If the parts are right, it is evident the two lines will be pa-
rallel to each other; but if they are inclined, half their
inclination is the error of the tool, which must be altered
by giinding the edge of the steel blade. It is almost un-
necessary to observe, that the use of the square in parallel
dividing, is precisely the same as that of the index in an-
gular dividing.

We omitted to describe the beam compass, for tracing
the circular lines which limit the length of divisions, on
account of that apparatus being well known; for the oppo-
site reason, we now proceed to give a description of the
gauge, (See Fig. 4.) an implement which performs the,
same office in tracnig parallel lines. It consists of a brass
beam A, about six or eight inches long; a socket B, of
the same material, with a steel front to the left, which,
sliding along the beam, may be set fast on any part of it by
the finger screw S on the upper side, and a tracer of tem-
pered steel fixed to the end of the beam by a wedge and
screw. The tracer has its point of action brought close to
the inner edge, in order that it may draw aline extremely
near to the edge of the scale ; its great length, as shewn
in the Figure, being in no respect incommodious, is de-
signed for the purpose that it should be lasting. The steel
front of the socket extends in the line of its action about
two inches, which enables the operator to keep the beam
without deviation at right angles to the edge of the scale ;
and there is a projecting part in the front, of the same
length, which, bearing upon the surface, keeps the tracer
perpendicular ; this is discontinued in the middle, foi the
purpose of admitting the tracer to be brought into contact
with the front. The tracing point should be so adjusted as
to be a very small quantity bilow the projecting part. The
end of the socket to the right is on every side chamfered
to a thin edge, and the beam has divided upon its different
sides many lines, suited to the most common work, such as
drawii.i^ the parallel lines of diagonal scales, &c. By
dropping the dividing knife into these, pushing up the soc-
ket inlo contact with it, and there fastening il, the operator
places the steel front and the tracer at the proper distance
for the performaiiie of his work. In cases of less freqnont
occurrence, he clamps the socket by trial, so as to make
the tracer pa.ss through points previously laid down with the
sprii/g-dividers^ a tool to be <lescribed presently.

T!ie process ot dividing from straight line patterns be-
ing exactly simdarto that from the dividing plate, u must
be quite unnecessary 'o repeat il. We mav, however, ob-
scive, that in the former the errors go undiminished to the
work while those of the dividing plate are contracted in
the ratio of the radius of the plate and uork (Hfckmak-
ers liUi'Siie the coi.trary process; they fix as;ii:li tuvid.ng
plate upon the centre of their dials, and iraiisfer the divi-

GRADUATION.

803

sions outwards. It is not, however, now unroinmon for
them, in their very bebt worli, to send tlieir cliul plates to
tht instrument maker to be dividetl.

In s:rji;4;lit line diviciini^, tlie operator has frequent oc-
casion to divide lines lo which none of liis ])atterns will ap-
ply ; but there is an expedient that he oui^ht not to be un-
acquainted with, wh.ich will enable him, to a ceitain extent,
to overcome this difFn.uily. Suppose he were required to
set ofl' French inches; ibat he knows the proportion they
beav; to Euf^lish inches, which are snorter; and that he has
irarkcd ofl" upon the scale lo be divided, accordinij; to this
proportion, the total leii.a;th of French inches rc(|uired : he
may divide it from his English inch pattern. In this case
his work must be placed at an angle with his pattern. The
proper inclinatioti is readily found by trial ; and as the
square nuist run along the pattern, its blade will not be at
right angles with his work. On this account he will have
to perform two distinct operations. In the first he is to go
through his work, only making slight notches in the hypo-
tlieinisal, or inclined line, with the dividing knife; in the
second, with the square applied to the edge of the instru-
ment which is to receive tlie divisions, he must, by seeing
and feeling those notches, cut the corresponding perpendi-
cular strokes.

Suppose, again, that Spanish inches were to be divided
from the same pattern : These are shorter than English
inches, and will require but one operation. In this case
the square must be applied to the work, and the parts taken
from the inclined pattern. We might here annex the rule
for finding the angle of inclination, according to the pro-
portion between the pattern and work to be divided, but we
do not see its use. Those who handle the dividing-knife,
especially in this department of the art, are seldom versed
in computation; and as the lines upon the pattern, as well
as those upon the work to be divided, are often remote from
the edge, the angular point would seldom be found upoti
either, and would often fall beyond the limits of the room
in which the work is to be performed. We have already
said, that cutting divisions upon metal is laborious to the
hand ; but in ivory and wood it is not so ; for in either of
these a divider will keep pace with a dexterous seamstress,
a division for a stitch, for any length of lime. The com-
mon carpenter's rule is divided in this manner, and, small
as is the price of the finished instrument, the dividing bears
but a small proportion to it. As a farther proof of the ce-
lerity with which this kind of work is performed, it may be
mentioned, that the writer of this part of our article beitig
once in want of a good piece of boxwood, exactly similar
to that of the common Guntcr, but wilhoiit slider or divi-
sions, the artist who ])rovided it charged sixpence more
than he would have done for the finished instrument; and,
upon being asked the reason, gave a good one : " the little
order had put him out of his common track."

When box, or any other kind of wood, is divided upon,
the bur is first well rubbed ofl" the divisions, and then the
whole surface brought lo a polish with a dry rush; the sur-
face is next burnished by rubbing it hard both ways, in the
direction of the grain ol the woocl, with a clean piece of old
hat, which produces an agreeable gloss; and, lastly, to
blacken the divisions, a mixture of powdered charcoal anrf
linseed oil being laid oi; quickly, rubbed hard and cleared
away, finishes the process. In ivory, the divisions arc, in
the fit St place, filled wim a composition of lamp-black and
hard tallow, or, which is rather better, of bees-wav arjd olive
oil: when lids is hard rubbed into the stroke--, the whole
surface sliotlUl be WvU ruslied, ami then polished with
chalk and water laid upn- a linen rag. It )ias already been
said, that the bur of dividing on metal should be taken off
with charcoal and water ; but in brass, the surface will

have a much better appearance if the finishing stroke is
given with wet blue stone, which is a very soft slate, or ihc
same substance that slate pencils are made of. Divided
gold and silver, however, look best when they receive their
finish from the cliarcoal. The divided surface of all the
metals is improved in appearance by being rubbed with the
hand, after a little oil has been applied. No other black-
ing is required.

In dividing diagonal scales, the beginnings and endings
of the inclining lines are marked off with the dividing-knife
from a pattern of ecpial parts, and afterwards those lines
are traced by menns of a straigiit edge, similar to the blade
of the square. The knife being dropped into one of the
marks, the ruler is brought into contact with it, and very
nearly up to the other mark ; tlie thumb of the left hand
is placed exactly over the ruler at the foriner, and the k:iife
being dropped into the latter, the ruler is brought into con-
tact with it, being turned under the thumi) as on a centre.
Instead of drawing the diagonal lines by hand, some use
the bevel ; and as by this the whole is done at once from
the ])attern, it would seem lo be the more meihodical way,
but it requires a very nice adjustment to make the bevel
agree with the square which had lieen previously used to
draw the perpendicular lines. But which ever method is
used, to do it with sufiicieiit exactness is one of the most
difficult operations of Ihis department of the art.

In the sector, and every other instrument, where the
lines, which bound the length of the dividing strokes, are
not parallel to the edge, so as to be traced with the gauge,
the straight-edge and dividing-knife are used : The begin-
ning and ending of the lines are set off in their proper po-
sitions by the spring-dividers : a tool so important in every
branch of the art, that a description of it might have sooner
claimed a place.

This is a kind of compasses formed altogether of fine
steel. It consists of a circular bow and two legs, all in one
piece, as represented in full dimensions by Fig. 5. Plate
CCLXXVIII. The bow is strong and well tempered, and,
without danger of breaking, allows a motion of the points
from the distance of about an inch to their contact. This
is their range for use, but tlie elasticity is not exhausted
until the points are separated nearly twice as far. At about
three-fifths, reckoning from the bow, the adjusting screw
has its place : It is at right angles with the legs wlien the
distance between the points is small, because short leng'.hs
are most commonly taken. The screw, throughout its
whole length, has a fine deep thread of about sixty turns
to an inch ; is fastened to one of the legs by a pin passing
'through it, and upon which it turns as on a centre, in
order to obey the circular sjiring of the bow ; and the other
leg is perforated, in order that, at every distance of the
points, it may pass freely through it. A nut, the female
screw of which is nicely fitted lo the former, by its action
overcomes the expansive force of the bow, and regulates
the distance between the points : But this nut does not come
in contact with the leg ; there is interposed between them
a saddle-piece, which exterior lo the screw is made conical,
and this is received by a hollow conical part in the nut,
which it exactly fits. The saddle-piece next the leg is
formed into a knife-edge, or sliarp angle, which, resting
upon the sharp bottom of a notch in the leg, keeps tlie for-
mer from turning round with the nut, at the same time that
it allows the angular change, as the distance of the points
is varied. By this contrivance, freedom of action of the
screw is preserved, and the possibility of its change of
place, and consequent alteration of the distance between
the points, |)reveiited. The legs are bored in the direction
uf their le'iglh, to a depth of about three quarters of an
inch; thev have each, near their extremities, a part which
5 I 2

304

GRADUATION.

pvojccts oiilwarcls. These parts, as well as the length
boretl, arc cut open on the outer edj^e by a saw. A screw,
in each of the prujecung parts, passes Irecly ihrough one
hall', hut aclius? in the other, brings the parts nearer toge-
ther, and furnishes the means ol' securing liie points fuiiily
in their places. The points themselves are cyliiichM-s, ex-
actly filling the bore of the legs, and their ends are worked
to the i-ecjuisite sharpness; and, in order that they may
measure the shortest possible distance, are brought very
near the inner extremity of the diameter. At the very
point, however, they should be round, and in every direc-
tion the sides must make equal angles with tlie perpen-
dicular ; for, were they not so, a distance set ofi' with ihem,
it is obvious, would be altered by pressure.

In using this instrument, the fore-finger is pressed upon
the bow, the thutnb and middle finger keeping it upriglit,
while the other fingers prop the hand; but where a dis-
tance is to be set off many times in succession, the dividers
are to be twirled round in the same direction, making a dot
at every half turn. This is the manner of handling the tool
for common purposes ; but for the accurate bisection of a
distance, they must not be touched by any other part than
the leg near the point, which is lodged in one extremity,
while with the other a faint arc is described : the same thing
being done from the other end of the distance, the middle
point is secured by making a dot with a fine conical poin-
tril. In every use of the dividers, a magnifying glass is to
be held in the left hand.

In dividmif a common thermometer, several points, 12
or 15 degrees apart, are marked off, according with a
standard one ; these, always unequal, are filled up with
equal parts. The use of the dividers cannot be better
exemplified than in this case : Say the distance from one
mark to the next is 15°, the operator knows the value of
his time better than to do this at two operations ; instead of
•first dividing the space into three or five, he guesses or
estimates the distance of 1°, and running tlie tool over the
space almost as quick as he can count its steps, sees how
much he has erred ; a second or third trial never fails to
give him the proper distance. The dots in these trials, two
of which sliould never be made in the same line, are barely
to be seen by the glass, and he wants the last, that, by re-
peating the steps with a greater pressure, he may n>ake the
dots sufficiently large to receive the point of the dividing-
knife. It may be mentioned, that the operator does not
draw a line in the direction of his work : without such
help he learns by practice to plant his points in the direct
■course.

Sector and plane scale patterns are divided from a diago-
nal scale, with the square and dividing-knife : the whole
length of the scale is equal to the radius of the sector, and
is divided into 1000 parts, and a lower subdivision is ob-
tained by estimation. The value of each division is picked
up among the diagonals, according to tables of natural or
logarithmic sines, tangents, &c. Whoever wishes for full
information upon this subject, may consult the Select Me-
ckanical Exercises of the late celebrated James Ferguson;
every table is there given, and not a figure more or less
than what is required. The practical part of what is here
referred to, Mr Ferguson learned from the first of the three
Troughtons, to whom his youngest son James was appren-
tice, a youth of considerable promise, who died at the early
age of 23 years.

If it should be thought that we have been unnecessarily
diffuse in this department of the art, we would observe,
that should any one, before he is fully acquainted with it,
and habituated to the use of the tools, attempt to practise
the higlier branches, he will most probably find himself un-
qualified for the task.

Sect. II. Engine Graduation.

The late Mr Henry Ilindley of York, about the year
\7A(), was the first who constrLicled an engine for gradu-
ating iuslruments, and which also served tlie purpose of
cutting the teeth in clock wheels. We have it not in our
power to give a particular account of this engine, but the
late Mr Smeaton, in the Phil. Trcma. for 1785, mfonus us
that the plate was turned roimd by an endless screw, which
having been cut with a tool that turned upon a centre at a
distance equal to the radius of the plate, made it of smaller
diameter in the middle, so that the screw throughout its
whole length, acted in contact with the convex edge of the
plate. Smeaton informs us, tiiat both the screw and the
teeth in the plate, were produced from the original gradua-
tion of the plate. Mr Smcaton's paper here alluded to, is
replete with general information upon the graduation of in-
struments ; but Hindley's method of original dividing, and
his own improvements thereon, form the main subject.
These will be briefly noticed in the next Section.

Ilindley, far removed from the metropolis, and perhaps
knowing little how, in his time, the useful arts were culti-
vated there, was, by dint of his own native powers, making
considerable progress in the improvement of his double
profession of clock and instrument making. In the latter,
however, he must have wanted that constant employment
which alone can ripen experience, and give full effect to
execution. He died in the year 1771, at the age of 70
years.

An account of the next attempt to make a dividing en-
gine was published at Paris in 1 768, by the Duke de Chaul-
nes ; every part of which is described with tlie utmost mi-
nuteness, and illustrated by fifteen folio plates, all full of
figures. It will not, however, be to our purpose to give
even an abstract of this ingenious work, on account of its
having been superseded by better contrivances, a due at-
tention to which will occupy as many of our pages as can
be appropriated to this subject. We may however ob-
serve, that the wheel of this engine is not turned round by
an endless screw ; itself, together with the work to be gra-
duated, is acted on by a clamp and screw for slow motion ;
by the latter, a division of the linib is brought to be bisect-
ed by the vertical wire of a fixed microscope, and then the
corresponding division upon the work cut with a point and
frame adapted to the purpose. We do not know that any
small instruments were ever divided by the Duke de Chaul-
nes' engine, or that any large ones were done according to
the original method by which it was graduated. The me-
thod, highly interesting, and at that time altogether new,
will find the notice it deserves in that Section of our present
article to which it belongs.

It is, how ever, to the ingenuity of the late Mr Ramsden,
that the world is indebted for engine dividing in i'.s full ef-
fect. That artist, about the year 1766, produced an .engine
which, although it fell far short of his expectations, ex-
ceeded, in accuracy, the best dividing plate. It was fully
competent to the division of common instruments for sur-
veying of land, &c. but was deemed insufficient to produce
that accuracy which is required for the purpose of finding
the longitude at sea. This engine, about SO inches in di-
ameter, after Ramsden had, about 1775, made another of
nearly four feet, was sold to a nol>leman in France for the
purpose of being lodged in his cabinet.

Mr Ramsden, in his second effort to make an engine, was
completely successful, insomuch that a sextant divided by
it being subjected to the examination of Bird, was by him
reported to be fit for every purpose of nautical astrono-
my. Ramsden's account of this engine was, in 1777, pub-
lished by the Board of Longitude, who rewarded his inge-

GRADUATION.

805

miity willi the sum of 300/. Foi- a further sum of .T15/.,
he made over to the public the propei-ty of the engine it-
self, on coiKlition, that at stated prices he should divide any
iiislruiueiitb that might be sent to hiiii by other makers, so
long as the engine should be allowed to remain in his pos-
session.

Previous to the account of Ramsden's being nulilished,
and before its construction was generally known, Messrs
Dollond made an engine, differing materially we believe
from the former; but as it was never used except in the
graduation of instruments made by them, the only judg-
ment we can form of its quality, arises Out of the high re-
spectability of that well known house.

In the year 17/8, the late Mr John Troughton complet-
ed a graduating engine, which at the full stretch of his pe-
cuniary means had occupied him for three years. In its
general construction, this differs in no material respect
from Ramsden's, though it is generally, we believe, thought
to be superior in point of accuracy. The trade were so
ill satislied with Ramsden, on account of his keeping their
work for an unreasonable length of time, as well as for
the careless manner in which it was often divided by his
assistants, that Troughton immediately, at augmented
prices, found full employment for his ; and he has been
heard to say, that by the care and industry of himself and
his young brother, he soon found himself as well remune-
rated for making his engine, as Mr Ramsden had been by
public rewards.

It was about 1788, that Mr John Stancliffe finished a
dividing engine. This accurate artist had been appren-
tice to Hindley of York, and for many years a foreman to
Ramsden. The latter derived much information from
him in the construction of his second engine, in which
the cutting-frame of Hindley was adopted. In the first,
the divisions were cut with the beam-compass, which, com-
pared with Hindley's apparatus, is tedious and inaccurate.
Mr Stancliffe's practice has almost exclusively been con-
fined to making sextants, and their being held in the high-
est estimation, furnishes the most certain proof of the ex-
cellence of the engine by which they were divided.

It would be useless particularly to enumerate all the en-
gines that have been made for angular dividing; perhaps
there may be ten or twelve in London, generally copies of
Ramsden's second engine. The greatest novelty that has
appeared in this way, was given a few years ago by Mr
James Allen, an industrious workman, which he stiles a
self-correcting method of racking the plate, and which, with
the usual good nature of the Society of Arts, See. was ho-
noured with their gold medal. Those who wish to know
more of it, may, by consulting the journals of that Socie-
ty, gain full information, and have an opportunity to exa-
mine whether or not it deserves its title.

As in our article we have not room for more than the
description of one circular engine ; — as Ramsden's has
been copied into more than one work similar to our own;
and as that of tho; present iVIr Tioughton has not yet met
the public eye, we give the preference to the latter, which
at our request he has lately communicated, in the follow-
ing letter to Dr Brewster:

" Dear Sir. I remember that in a late conversation be-
tween us, you gave me to understand, that a description of
my circular dividing engine would be acceptable to you,
in order to form a part of the article in your Encyclopae-
dia to which it belongs. For that purpose, I have at length
drawn it up, not to my own satisfaction indeed, for I wish-
ed it to have been done well ; but such as it is I have the
honour of presenting it to you.

The excellent engine of iny late brother being fully four
feet in diameter, gave to the operator, when at work near

the centre, a position so painful, that it had done no good
to cither his health or my own, and had materially injured
tliatof a wortliy yovnig man, then my assistant ; it was evi-
dent that, by making one of smaller dimensions, this evil
would in a great measure be removed, and I foresaw that
by employing my own method of original dividing, from
which to rack the plate, a considerable reduction might
be effected without any sacrifice of accuracy. I also per-
ceived, that by contriving the parts with more simplicity
than Ramsden had done, I could get through the work at
less than two-thirds of the labour and expense.

Such were my motives for making an engine, and the
work was accomplished in the year 1793."

The pru.cipal parts of this engine are represented by
Fig. 1 a plan, and Fig. 2 an elevation, in Plate CCLXXIX.
It is mounted upon a strong frame of wood, the upper part
serving as a box to preserve it, and which at certain places
opens for use. This stand does not, like those of engines
hitherto made, form a part of the machine ; it only serves
to support it at a convenient height, and is not, excepting
the platform EE, at all represented in the Plate. The
lowest part of the engine is a heavy tripod of cast brass,
nearly in the same state in which it came from the mould.
Two of its branches are denoted at A, A, in the plan ; the
third is similar, but mostly covered by the work above.
In Fig. 2. the tripod is also represented by AA, below
which three finger-screws that support it upon the plat-
form are seen. These screws, marked B in the elevation,
serve the purpose of levelling the engine. They work in
the tripod with their heads downwards, and are planted in
the broad part where the two branches meet. At about
two inches from the centre of the tripod, and at equal dis-
tances fro4Ti each other, are fixed three conical tubes, ex-
tending downwards nearly three feet. Two of them ap-
pear at C, C, the other is hidden behind the axis of the
engine plate. They are connected at the lower ends by a
strong piece of brass F, formiiig together with the centre
of the tripod a frame wherein the axis revolves.

The engine plate itself, represented by Gs in Figs. 1,
2, and 5, was cast in one piece of brass, all except the cir-
cular limb. The form of the twelve radii respecting depth
is seen in the elevation, and a central part of four inches
diameter, equal in thickness to their greatest depth, con-
nects them; but the broad circular centre-piece seen in
the plan, as well as the circular ring shewn in the middle,
are no thicker than the limb. The limb, three inches broad
and half an inch thick, is formed without soldering of one
piece of fine plate brass. It is rabbetted upon the extre-
mities of the radii, so as to bring its upper surface into the
same plane with them, and there by rivets made permanent-
ly fast.

The axis of the plate is a strong conical tube D, four
inches in diameter at the upper end, and half as much be-
low. Its length is determined by the three cones of the
tripod. At the upper end it is immoveably fixed to the
centre of the plate ; the lower end terminates in an obtuse
point of steel. Theie is fastened in the upper end of the
axis an arbor of hardened and tempered steel, which,
having passed through the plate from below, stands full
two inches above its surface, and ends in an obtuse point
similar to that below. Upon the two points, when revolv-
ing in the lathe, the surface of the plate was generated,
and its outer edge made perfectly circular.

A screw for making the teeth in the linib had prevdous-
ly been made. It had 20 threads in an inch ; and as it
was intended that by one of its revolutions it should car-
ry the plate through i.>i angle of 10', it followed, that the
circumference of the plate should be 108 inches. From
the measure of the screw, therefore, the dimension of

806

GRADUATION.

tlie exterioi- border of the plate was derived, first by
compulation nearly, and afterwards by trial with the screw
itself.

A strong collar of bell-metal had been soldered upon
the axis, and, when the limb was turned, made concentric
with it. The position of tliis collar is, respecting height,
coincident with the body of the tripod. The centre of the
tripod is hollow, in order that the collar should pass
through, hut does not form a socket for it to work in.
Instead of that, two narrow pieces of steel are fixed ver-
tically at an angle of 120° with each other. Against these,
the collar is pressed by a steel spring planted at 120° dis-
tance from them. In this triangular bearing the axis is
supported at lop, while the piece F receives t'jc point at
the lower end, and supports the whole weight.

To that branch of the tripod which is in front, a strong
plate of brass is screwed fast, as represented in the plan.
It extends inwards half way to the centre, and outwards
somewhat beyond the border of the wheel. Its breadth
is rather more than the length of the screw arbor. Imme-
diaiely above this, and in contact with it, is an exactly si-
rnilar plate. To the under side of the latter are screwed
•three oblong pieces, the thickness of which is equal to that
of the lower plate. Tliese, one of them at the middle of
the inner end of the plate, and the other two at tlie outer
end near the edges, arc received by slits cut in the lower
plate, which are about one-eighth of an inch longer than
the pieces, and allow a motion of the upper plate, in the
direction of the radius equal to that quantity, but afford it
no lateral play.

The dividing screw is fastened to. the upper plate, and
partakes of its motion, the use of whicli is occasionally
to disengage the screw from the teeth of the limb. Two
pieces, which connect the screw with the upper plate, are
seen, one or both of them, in all the figures, and marked
■with II ; they extend towards the centre, as far as the plate,
and form edge-bars to strengthen it. The shape of these
pieces is best shewn in Fig. 4. especially as to the manner
how they are brought from below, foi placing the screw
even with the edge of the wheel, and how the screw arbor
is centered in them. The arbor of the screw is cylindri-
cal; and a portion of each end forms a cylinder of smaller
diameter. The shoulders, which near each end of the ar-
bor, limit those parts, prevent lateral play in the pieces last
described ; for the smaller parts work freely in the holes
of those pieces, the shoulders being in contact with their
inner edges.

The engine, so far described, is ready to receive the ori-
ginal graduation of its limb; and as this operation was
done, while work to be described hereafter was preparing,
I will here explain by what means this most important part
of the work was accomplished : to do this, however, with-
in moderate bounds, I must suppose that the reader is al-
ready acquainted with my method, as published in the P/iil.
Trans, for 1809, or that he will turn over to the last Sec-
tion of this article, where it is fully explained.

In the first step, a roller was placed horizontally in a
frame attached to the tripod, having free and steady mo-
tion round its own axis; Ihis was adjusted so as to be car-
ried exactly 16 times round, while the engine plate made
one revolution, and was itself near the edge upon its upper
surface divided into 15 parts. Now, upon turning the
plate round, these 16 divisions 16 times told IZ 256, came
in succession to the wire of a fixed microscope, and were,
by a proper apparatus, transferred, to the surface of the
plate, in five dots, at a sufficient distance within the edge to
pievent their being disturbed by m iking the teeth. To
accomplish llie next step, an index was made to revolve
upon the arbor of tlie plate ; it was composed of two

branches, each of which carried at its extremity a micro-
scope with a micrometer; these liad a lange of anjjular
motion respecting each other, from a right line to a very
small angle. Uy this index, and these niitro.sropes, the
256 fine dots were examined by a certain biscclional pro-
cess, from which their individual errors were investigated
by computation, and formed into a table. By the help of
the table of errors, the future v, ork of racking the limb
was prosecuted with as much certainly as could have been
done, had tlie original divisions been inserted without
error.

It has already been said that the value of a tooth of the
limb should be 10', and consequently their whole number

will be 2160 ; now — ; — =: & -j'j., and just so many revolu-
tions and parts of the dividing screw will be commensurate
with a mean space from dot to dot = an angle of 1° 24'
22" .5. In order, therefore, that a comparison between
the plate and the screw might be made at every original
dot, it became necessary to provide means to ascertain the
position of the former at every sixteenth part of a revolu-
tion. To this end a micrometer head, as large as could be
admitted, divided into 16 equal parts, was fixed upon the
left end of the screw aibor ; and contiguous to this, was
placed a fixed index bearing a fiducial line. For the pur-
pose mentioned above, these were all that could be wanted ;
but as our dots were erroneous, in order from their appa-
rent, to determine their true places, a lower subdivision of
the head became necessary. Each of the 16 spaces, there-
fore, was divided into 10 by actual division, and as an eye,
practised in such matters, can by estimation accurately ob-
tain the value of the next decimal figure, it was into the
last denomination of subdivision that the table of errors
had been reduced, the value of an unit of which, in angu-
lar measure, is ^ths of a second.

The roller was removed when the 256 dots had been
transferred to the plate, as were the double index and
microscopes from the central arbor, when the position of
those dots had been ascertained. Now, the dividing screw
was placed in its frame, a micrometer, with a moveable
wire fixed to the tripod for viewing the primitive dots, and
a winch for turning the screw attached to its arbor on the
right : this change of parts being effected, the screw with
its irame having free motion in the line of radius, and ca-
pable of being, by the force of a spring, pressed into con-
tact with the edge of the plate, or by a screw drawn back-
wards at pleasure, and the plate itself having free motion
round its axis, the important operation of forming the teeth,
or racking the circle, was commenced.

It should be premised, that to prevent mistakes, by be-
ginning an interval at a wrong 16lh of the head, which, by
making false marks, would occasion much trouble, those
parts were numbered 1, 2,3, Sec. to 16, in the order of
turning the screw forwards. Corresponding numbers were
marked in ink upon the plate opposite to the dots, the
order of which, from right to left, was 0, 7, 14, 5. 12, 3,
10, I, 8, 15, 6, 13, 4, 11, 2, 9. which, repeated 16 times,
completed the circle These enabled me to proceed with
confidence ; for, in beginning any interval, it was only re-
quired that the number upon the head should be that
which distinguished the dot under the wire of the mi^cro-
scope. In the table of errors, I marked those dots, which
were too forwards, with the sign — , and those that were
too backward -j-, because it is evident that a -f- position of
the screw will elFect the correction of a — error of the dot,
and the contrary.

The zero, or first dot, being without error in the table,
is, by turning the plate round, to be brougiit exactly under
the wire of the microscope, and the division of the head

GRADUATION.

807

■marked 0 made to coincide exactly with tliC fiducial line.
The spring must now be allowed to [ircss up the screw
into contact with the edge of the plate, and tiien, by means
of the winch, the screw is to be turned through S^^ revo-
lutions, which will make impressions upon the edge of the
plate, and bring i![) another dot to the wire of the micro-
scope. The screw mubt now be released, and the plate
turned backwards, so as to bring lliat dot to the wire which
precedes the one that the i'orn\er interval began from,
which dot is marked 9, and the division of the head mark-
ed 9 must be brought to the fiducial line, but not exactly;
for in this, as well as in every future interval, the tabular
error of the dot must be allowed for, according to the sub-
divisions of the head : the screw being agaiii pressed up,
and turned with the winch, as was done before, this inter-
val will be indented. Thus proceeding in a retrograde
course, from one interval to another, until the whole cir-
cle has been gone over, we shall have a slight impression
of the screw at each of its 2160 revolutions.

The marks formed in the manner just described are laid
on, as it were, in patches, the beginnings of whicli are
agreeable to the original corrected dots, but at every other
point subject to the error of mismeasurement of the screw,
as well as to that of its uncertain action.

It is evident that the backward process in making the
first iinpression, was to prevent accumulated error, which
must have taken place, had the screw been turned forwards
through successive intervals ; but as the impressions al-
ready made are sufficiently deep for the screw in its tuture
action to follow them, and by its own equalizing action to
produce agreement, if necessary, between the beginning of
one interval and the end of another, it would be useless to
pursue that process any farther.

A continued forwards motion of the screw with the
winch was therefore kept up, until the plate had made
two more complete revolutions, when an examination at
several places was made as to the agreement between the
original dots and the impressions of the screw, which was
highly satisfactory.

Hitherto the threads of the screw had not been made to
cut; they indented the edge merely by their sharpness and
pressure ; and, without making either dust or chips, plough-
ed a furrow, on each side of which the metal rose in bur ;
and it was easy to see, that already four or five of the mid-
dle threads had been worn into action.

But to prosecute the operation of racking from these
slight indentations to the full tooth, required that the screw
should cut like a saw ; and for that puipose, the spiral
notches, which in opposite directions are represented in
the Figures as crossing the threads of the screw, were
made with a sharp-edged file ; and, in order to preserve
sharpness through long-continued action, those notches
■werv. from time to time filed deeper and broader.

In the account which Mr Ramsden gives of racking his
engine, it is stated, that, after following step by step the
retrograde process described above, through three or four
revolutions of the wheel, without regarding any more the
original divisions, he turned round by continued motion,
until he had produced the full tooth.

I have, however, to give a very different description of
a method of doing the same thing; an operation which oc-
cupied me nearly a month, and turned out one of the most
troublesome I was ever engaged in : it was a continued pro-
cess of coaxing from beginnins!: to end. My brother, who
had performed a similar task before, had, from his own ex-
perience, warned me of what I might expect; but without
that caution, I should not, any more than he had done, have
trusted, without examination, to the blind operation of the
screw. The chief cause of the embarrassincnt was, that

the threads of the notched screw cut sharper with one edge
than with the other, and cont.equently the indentations gain-
ed or lost upon the oiigiual divisions. Uy Ircquently
sharpening the screw ojiposite various parts of the limb,
tlie error arising from this source was sometimes -)- and
sometimes — , and that to the amount of 7" or 8" in some
parts of the circle. Tliese errors were corrected from
time to time, as they were found to exist, by pressing the
wheel forwards or backwards, so as to force the screw, in
its revolution, to remove more metal on one side of the in-
dentation than on the other.

Those who dream of a self-correcting method of rack-
ing an engine will do well to open their eyes to the above
circumstance ; and for their use it may be reiriarked, that,
in mechanical matters at least, faith is but a poor substi-
tute for good works, and ought never to supersede the use
of the senses.

My brother had told me that he had experienced consi-
deraljle inconvenience from having made the notches in the
screw parallel to the axis, as Ramsden had done before;
for the whole length of each tut, coming into action at
once, and going out at once, caused an irregular jerking mo-
tion; this inconvenience I avoided by making the notches
in spirals, which crossing each other at equal angles, gave
in one set the preceding edjje, and in the other the following
edge, the most advantageous cutting angle: this expedient
was not only productive of dispatch, but also afforded an
important advantage, altogether unforeseen. In all the en-
gines hitherto made, the racking screw, by frequent sharp-
ening, had been completely cut up, and in every case a se-
cond had been provided for working with. I also had pro-
vided a duplicate ; but the spiral cuts, by coming into and
going out of action continually and imperceptibly, render-
ed its application (|uite unnecessary. The notched screw
to be worked with, requires a much less pressure than that
which would make it cut, but the working pressure is quite
sufficient to cause the notches to rake off every impurity
from the teeth of the wheel, and keep them perfectly
clean: this last, together with the economy of using but
one screw, constitutes the advantage above alluded to.

Fig. 3. is designed to shew in perspective the apparatus
for carrying the wheel forwards by the screw, the manner
how the latter is connected with the foot, and how it is
stopped at every division. The chief parts of which this
apparatus consists, are more or less seen in all the Figs.;
but the manner of its being supported upon the platform
of the stand by the intervening block I, is seen only in Fig.
2. The principal piece is a cock J, the horizontal part of
which has two branches, (one shewn in tfte Figure,) be-
tween which the strings pass. The vertical part supports
a cylinder of steel, whicli, when the screw is in action,
forms a right line with its arbor ; but there is left between
their ends a space of about half an inch : this affords easy
means of changing the ratchet-wheels, which are placed
upon the screw-arbor, and move round or stop with it. A
barrel about 2 inches long, and I^ diameter, is fitted upon
the cylinder, but so as to admit of its being turned round
and moved upon it with perfect freedom from end to end.
The middle part of the barrel is formed into a spiral worm
or screw, the groove of which receives a cord or cat-gut
of one-tenth of an inch in diameter. There is a slight
frame dove-tailed upon the horizontal branches of the
cock, as shewn in front of Fig. 3. which has steady and
free motion in the direction oi' the cylinder ; to each side
of this frame is attached a pallet, one of which enters in
front, and the ether behind, into the spiral v/orm of the bar-
rel, by which means, when the latter is turned round, rec-
tilinear motion is given to the frame. The barrel to the
right is large, and excavated, so as to admit the ratchet-

808

GRAIiUATION.

wheel, which latter is driven by a cntrh anrl sprinsj, plant-
ed ill tlie edge ol the cavity of the former. The ciul of the
barrel to tlie left is embraced by a rini^, wliich is capable of
beinj^ turned round or set fast at pleasure. A stoppini^ piece
isi fastened to the frame by a lini^er-screw, and i)y means of a
slit, through which the screw passes from the ring of the
barrel, varied through a considerable extent. The elevated
part of the stopping-piece resembles an anvil, and the
hither side of the ring of the barrel, a hammer : the con-
tact of these determines the point from which divisions
begin: each division is terminated by similar means; an
anvil is found in the elevated part of the frame behind, and
a hammer in a screw-head, projecting from the enlarged
end of the barrel : a string occupying four or five turns of
the groove of the barrel, at one end is attached to a treadle
near the floor, and at the other, after passing over two pul-
lies, to a weight behind. When the treadle is pressed
down with the foot, the hammer in front leaves its anvil ;
and as the barrel is carried round, the frame is moved for-
wards by the pallets, so that in the second turn they pass
clear of each other, and the motion is continued until the
anvil behind is struck by the other hammer: during this
time the catch, by the pressure of its spring, has hold of
the perpendicular side of a tooth of the ratchet-wheel, car-
ries the screw round along with it, and moves also the en-
gine plate through the proper angle. On the pressure of
the foot being gradually withdrawn from the treadle, so as
to let the weight prevail, the barrel will be brought round
in a contrary direction ; the hammer and anvil on the far-
ther side leave and pass each other, and then those on this
side pass and meet as at first, ready for a second tread.
During the time that the barrel runs backwards, the screw
and engine-plate stand still ; for the sloping sides of the
ratchet-wheel allow the catch to escape freely over them.
As things stand in Fig. 3. a tread gives only two revolu-
tions of the screw, but the number may be varied at plea-
sure as far as si.x ; for let the anvil in front be placed by
its finger-screw so much to the right as will allow the
hammer to escape it, the weight will then draw the barrel
back through another revolution, and the parts will meet
again. Parts of a revolution are obtained with equal ease.
It was said before, that the ring of the barrel, to which is
attached the hammer in front, might be turned round and
fixed at pleasure ; now it is evident, that if the hammer
were brought down so as to meet the anvil sooner, the
tread would be shortened ; and, if shifted the contrary way,
it would be lengthened. Thus, by changing the position
of the anvil, we can vary the number of complete revolu-
tions; and as parts of a revolution are obtained by shifting
the hammer, we have the power of varying the angular
value of a tread from six revolutions of tlie screw, down
to a single tooth of the ratchet-wheel. The most useful
number for the teeth in this wheel is 120, for it answers to
the division of the vernier that gives 5" of the usual de-
gree, or 10" in instruments of reflexion, as well as to
many others. To divide the vernier of a reflecting one
that shews 15", requires a ratchet-wheel of 80 teeth; and
this number, were it of any use, which it is not, would
give the usual subdivision of the 96° arc. To divide the
centesimal degree of the French, and its first decimal sub-
division, requires a wheel of 100 teeth. To the division
of odd and prime nun^liers, a near approximation may be
made by an aititice contrived by myself, and I believe un-
known to any except those wiio have been my assistants:
an example will be the best wsiy of teaciiing it to those
to whom it may be useful. Let Vi,<i number to be divided
be 331, and let the ratchet-wheel wiiK 80 teeth be chosen ;
if we divide 2160, the whole number of turns the screw
makes in one revolution of the plate, by 331, we shall have

a quotient of 6, with a remainder of 174. which latter be-
ing niulliplled by 80, to i-cdiice revolu ioi.s of the screw
into teeth of tlic ratciii.t-wheel, gives 13920, hud tliis also
being divided by 331, quotes 42 v^■ith a remainder of 18:
that is, a tlivision will be equal to 6 revolutions of the
screw, and 42 teeth of the ratchet-wheel nearly. But as
we cannot at one tread excc-cn 6 revolutions, ve must be
content with half of it:r:3.2l. and tread twice for one di-
vision; but as in our arimmeiical o|)(;ration we had a re-
mainder of 18 teeth, in order to make ends meet, these
must, as we proceed, be disposed of in their proper places;
now as 18 is the 20th pan of 360, if at every 20° of the
circle we set the screw one tooth forward by hand, the
thing will be accomplished, and no greater error than 1
tooth ~ "".5 will enter the work; a precision fully suffi-
cient for any purpose that such numbers can require, and
in my opinion greater than can be come at by any other
means.

On the end of the screw arbor to the right, as exhibited
in Fig. 5. is attached a milled-head and divided microme-
ter; the latter, like the raichet-whcel, is changeable at
pleasure, and carrying the same number of divisions that
the wheel does teeth ; the micrometer turns round with
the screw, and a cock, fixed to the frame, bearing a fidur
cial line, serves as an index for counting the divisions. By
the help of this we are enabled at once to set the stopping
apparatus to any part of a revolution of the screw, without
the trouble of a second trial ; and by it, in case of a false
tread or other accident, we can adjust the parts again to
due position.

The frame and apparatus for cutting tlie divisions, and
their connection with the engine, remain to be described.
Upon the two remote branches of the tripod, and beyond
the border of the wheel, are erected two pillars, the upper
parts of which are formed into screws. Four screw nuts
work, two and two, upon the screw part of these pillars,
and embracing the ends of a strong bar of brass KK, which
they support, enable us to adjust its height, to suit the
thickness of the work to be divided.

To the near branch of the tripod, a cross piece L, Fig.
2, nearly the length of the screw arbor, and parallel to it,
is firmly fastened. This carries upon its extremities two
pillars similar to, but srnaller than, the others. Upon the
strong bar KK, at equal distances from the middle, are
two other bars fixed by finger screws. They extend from
the strong bar to the pillars in front, to which they are se-
cured by double nuts like the former. These two barsj
marked INI, M in the plan, are bound together by a cross
brace at the remote end, and by another a little way bevond
the centre. But in no other part can crossing pieces be
admitted ; for as they form the support for the apparatus
that cuts the divisions, luiinterrupted motion along the
whole line of the radius is required.

The cutting apparatus consists of three principal pieces,
marked in the plan a, e, o. The first is a bridge, which
crosses the space between the bars M, M, and to which it
is attached at either end by sliding sockets. The latter
run along the bars, to any part of which the apparatus may
be clamped, according to the length of the radius of the
instrument to be graduated. Two steel screws having
conical points, are tapped through the perpendicular ends
ol the bridge above the sockets, and by working in holes
of the second piece, form an axis or joint, round which the
latter has a free and steady motion. The third piece, the
form of which, as well as that of the second, is seen in the
plan, has, like the first, steel screws with conical points
tapped through its ends, and these like the others act in
tlie middle piece, forming another horizontal axis parallel
to the former, and in every respect like it. In Fig. 1, the

GRADUATION.

809

parts are extendecl, for the purpose of beiiitj; more distinct-
Jy represenled, into a position in wliich tlicy cannot work.
The best effect is produced, when the middle piece is ver-
tical, and the third horizontal. Sufficient freedom of ac-
tion, however, is found in this contrivance of Hindley's, to
produce a rectilinear motion of the pointril of at least one-
third of an inch, a quantity fully adequate to the purposes
required. The pait of the third piece next the centre, is
thai in which the pointril is placed. It is so contrived, that its
length below the piece may be varied at pleasure, that it
may be turned round upon a horizontal axis, so as to make
any angle with the plane to be divided upon, and that its
action may be viewed by a properly attached magnifying-
glass.

There is one part, which might either have been men-
tioned sooner, or, as the performance of the engine in point
of accuracy is not at all promoted by its mtroduction, might
have been altogether omitted ; but as it bears rather a con-
spicuous appearance in Fig. 2, it may as well be noticed.
A bar attaclied to the same pieces that support the screw
arbor, to which it is parallel, and placed below it, together
with a cock behind, bear the axis of a vertical friction
wheel N. This wheel is placed so, as to roll in contact
with the under side of the limb of the engine immediately
below the dividing screw. Without this, the action of the
screw in the teeth of the wheel would occasionally produce
a very harsh jarring sound, but which is rendered mute by
this contrivance.

A hardened and tempered steel arbor rises full two inches
above the surface of the plate, in the axis of which it is im-
moveably fi.xed. lu other engines the axis is hollow, into
which may be dropped differently sized arbors, suitable to
the centre holes of the instruments to be graduated ; but as
I never intended with this engine to divide any other in-
struments than those of my own construction, and as it was
easy to make them, whether great or small, to suit my ar-
bor, by fixing it, I avoided one source of uncertainty and
error. This arbor is the principal connection between the
engine and work to be graduated, and requires the most
exact fitting ; and tapped holes, arranged variously through
the length of the 12 radii, furnish the means of applying
holdfasts, to prevent accidental circular derangement.

I will now conclude this long description with observing,
that with this engine, and indeed the observation applies
equally well to those of Ramsden's construction, the ope-
rator can cut about twenty-four strokes in a minute of time;
for one single minute, indeed, he will be able to make thir-
ty; but including short and frequent intervals of rest, the
former rate may be kept up for hours together. The vast
importance of this expedition, needs no comment with
those who know the value of accurately graduated nautical
instruments, and the great demand for them. Yours, &c.
Edward Troughton."

We are all aware, that engines for dividing straight lines,
are of much less importance than those for graduating cir-
cles and arcs; yet we should not think that justice was done
to our article, were we to omit an account of one for the
former purpose.

Encouraged by his former success, and having in pros-
pect farther rewards, of which he was not disappointed,
Mr Ramsden constructed the first right-line engine, an
account of which was published in 1779, by order of the
Board of Longitude. Of this, the following is a copy, ac-
companied by reduced drawings of the original figures.

" Experience having evinced the great utility of the en-
gine for graduating circles, it encouraged me to attempt
a similar method, whereby lines of equal parts, sines, tan-
gents, secants, &c. might be divided with equal ease and
correctness.

Vol. IX, Part II.

By the engine hereafter described, any line of equal
parts, &c. may be divided without an error of the ^■^\^iU
part of an inch ; and, as this can be done Ijy any indifferent
person, and so very expeditiously, its uses for dividing all
sorts of navigation scales, sectors, kc. must be obvious ;
especially when it is considered, that from the incorrect-
ness of the present method of dividing, these valuable in-
struments arc of less use than they might be.

This engine consists of a strong plate of brass, movea-
ble on two edges of an iron frame. To facilitate its motion,
the friction is considerably diminished by the application of
three rollers to the under side of the plate : the iron frame
is supported on a strong mahogany stand.

One edge of the brass plate is ratched or cut into teeth,
of which there are exactly twenty in an inch, and it is mov-
ed along the iron frame by an endless screw, having exactly
the same number of threads in an inch ; these threads fi't
into the teeth on the brass plate. Each revolution of the
endless screw round its axis will move the plate -jf^th of
an inch along the iron frame.

A small wheel is fixed on one end of the screw, having
its circumference divided into 50 parts, which are again
subdivided into five parts by a vernier; therefore, when
the screw is turned on its axis, one of the primary divisions,
the plate will be moved xo'oo^'^ °f ^" '"'^'' along the iron
frame ; if the screw be turned to the coincidence of one
division on the vernier, the plate will be moved .j^2__f|, ^f
an inch, and so of the rest ; and the line on the plate to be
divided, which terminates the spaces moved by the brass
plate, may be drawn on it, or on any instrument fastened on
the plate, with the greatest accuracy, by a point or tracer
fixed in a proper frame, whereby it has a rectilinear motion,
without any lateral shape.

Sometimes it may be necessary to lay down lines on in-
struments which are not commensurable with English
inches ; such as are the feet, inches, &c. of most other
countries : this is done by inclining the line to be divided
to make an angle with the direction of motion of the plate,
by an apparatus to be described hereafter ; if the tracer
be set to draw lines at riglit angles to the direction of mo-
tion, or to the side of the plate, then the line to be divided
will be as much longer than the space the plate has moved,
as the secant of the angle of inclination is longer than the
radius ; but if the tracer be set to draw lines at right angles to
the line tobe divided, then divisions on tliat line will be short-
er than the space the plate has moved along the iron frame,
as much as the cosine of the angle of inclination is shorter
than the radius.

(Plate CCLXXX.) Fig. i. Represents a plan of the di-
viding engine.

Fig. 2. An elevation.
Fig. 3. A section on the line AB.
Fig. 4. A section on the line DE.

Fig. 5. The underside of the plate A, represented in
Fig.'l.

jVote. Like parts are marked with the same letter in each
of the Figures.

(Fig. 1.) A represents a strong brass plate, 27 inches
long, four inches broad, and .j'^ths of an inch thick; work-
ed exceeding flat, and of tlie same thickness throughout,
with its two edges exactly parallel.

B is a strong iron frame, forty-eight inches long, hav-
ing two edges c, l> rising half an inch above its surface ;
these two edges are made very straight, and in the same
plane ; the inside of the edge a is also made as straight as
possible.

(Fig. 5 ) The plate A slides on the two edges of the iron
frame ; beneath it are two springs c, c, each fastened at the
extreme ends to the plate A by the screws s ; at the other

5 K

810

GRADUATION.

end of each spring; is a roller e of tempered steel, turning
on an axis in these sprin'^s ; there is also a third roller d of
tenipc.rcd steel, (Fig. 3.) let into theiron frame near where
the tlircads of the endless screw act ; this roller hath a long
axis, one end turning in the iron frame at g, (Figs. 2. 3 ) and
the other in the lever /; ; this lever turns on a centre at j, and
will) it the roller d may be raised or depressed, by turning
the capstan head screw o, whicii presses on a strong spring.

The use of the rollers is to diminish the friction of the
plate A. when moving on the iron frame U : for this pur-
pose, tiie strength of the springs is regulated by turning
the two screws n, n, and of the roller </, by the capstan-head
screw 0, till the weight of the plate A be very nearly car-
ried on ihcse rollers.

(Fig. 2.) C is the endless screw, which is of tempered
steel, and has its pivots formed in the shape of two frus-
tums of cones joining each other at their smaller end by a
cylinder, as shewn in the description of the circular engine,
p. 5, Plate 111. of that work. These pivots lurn in half
holes ol the same form in the pieces of brass DD, which
are firmly screwed to the iron frame ; the hall holes are
kept together by the screws m, m, which may be tightened
at any time, to prevent the endless screw from shaking.

On one end of the screw arbor is a wheel A, (I'ig. 1.)
having its circumference divided into 50 parts, and num-
bered at every tenth division with 1 , 2, to 5 ; and these divi-
sions are again subdivided into five parts by the vernier C.

G, G represent two frames of steel ; each of these frames
turn on centres K, fastened to the under-side of the plate
A, and equidistant from the edge of it. In each frame is a
roller y of tempered steel, turned very concentric to their
pivots, and exactly of the same diameter.

The frames G, G (Plate CCLXXX. Fig. 5.) are connect-
ed together by the brass plate E, which turns on a stud in
each frame ; the studs must be at equal distances from the
centres K on which the frames turn, and the distance be-
tween the holes in the plate E in which the studs act, must
be the same with the distance between the centres (:, so
that the plate E may always move parallel to itself, and that
the circumference of the rollers may be always equidistant
from that edge of the plate A, which is intended to be ratch-
ed. This apparatus serves to press the edge of the plate
A, with a motion parallel to itself, against the threads of the
endless screw.

On the end of the plate A (Fig. 1, 2.) is a spring of tem-
pered steel, which acts as a bent lever. The spring end of
this lever has a ketch, which passes under the head of the
stud I, that is on the end of the connecting piece E. While
the other end of the lever is pressed gradually down to-
wards the Plate A, by turning the finger screw F, the con-
necting piece E is drawn forward, so that the steel rollers
pressing against the edge a of the iron frame, may force
the side of the plate against the endless screw.

Then having two screws of tempered steel exactly of the
same diameter and number of threads, viz. 20 in an inch,
one of these screws was notched across the threads, so as to
cut in the manner of a saw ; this screw was put in the half
holes in the pieces D, D ; (Fig. 2.) Oji the opposite end of
the screw arbor to that whereon the wheel is, there is at-
tached a long rod, of such length, that the winch on the end
of it, by which the rod and endless screw are turned round,
may be clear ofthe iron frame.

Z (F'ig. 1.) is a narrow slip of brass, having its edges
exactly parallel, which is screwed on the plate A, and stea-
dy pinned.

The edge of this slip is parallel to the edge ofthe plate
A ; a distance of 25.6 inches was set ofi" on a line on the slip
parallel to its edge ; this distance was bisected continually,

till the distance between each bisection was -j-'sths of an
inch.

A brass cock was fastened to the iron frame, which pass-
ing over the endless screw, applied itself to the slip on the
brass plate A, a small silver wire was stretched across a
hole of half an inch diameter in the end ofthe cock. The
coincidence of the bisections with this wire was examined
by a small magnifier in a brass tube, fixed exactly over it.

The plate A being on the iron frame, the bisection mark-
ed I, towards the right hand, was set to coincide with the
wire, and the division numbered 50 on the wheel, was set
to the fit St division on the nonius.

The plate A was then pressed against the endless screw,
by turning the finger screw F ; then, by means of the
winch, the endless screw was turned towards the left six-
teen revolutions, till the bisection marked o, was brought
to the wire ; this done, the plate was detached from the
endless screw, by unturning the finger screw F, and the
division numbered 2 was set to coincide with the wire, the
division 50 on the wheel being previously set to its index,
and the edge of the plate was pressed against the screw by
turning the finger screw F ; then, by means of the winch,
the endless screw was again turned round its axis 16 revo-
lutions towards the left hand, till the bisection 1 was brought
to coincide with the wire. The plate was again detached
asbef re, and the bisection marked 3 was set to coincide
with the wire, and in this manner the edge of the plate was
latched from end to end three or four times, till the threads
had made a good impression, which afterwards was ratch-
ed from end to end, without ever disengaging the plate
from the screw, till the teeth were entirely finished.

The notched endless screw, with the rod and winch,
were then removed, and the plain screw was put in its
place ; having the divided wheel on one end of the screw
arbor, and two sets of ratchet wheels on the other end.
These sets are each composed of three wheels, having
teeth round their circumference ; one in each set hath 32
teeth, another 48, and the third 50. These two sets being
one for turning the screw, and the other for stopping it,
they have, for this purpose, their ratchet teeth cut in op-
posite directions.

Plate CCLXXX. Figs. 1, 2. I, represents a cylinder of
brass, having on one end two steel rings a and 6, with their
edges that are towards each other cut into ratchet teeth ;
these teeth are cut in contrary directions, so as to fit into
each other ; on one of these rings is an index, and the
other hath its teeth numbered with 10, 20, up to 50. The
other end ofthe cylinder is made hollow, and contains one
of the sets of ratchet wheels There are two slits opposite
each other, pierced through the hollowed pait of the cylin-
der W. In each of these slits is a click turning on an
axis, and is pressed into the teeth of the ratchet wheel by
a small spring. The clicks may be moved along their
axis, so as to catch in any one ofthe three ratchet wheels,
and may be fastened at that place, by tightening the small
screw S.

The cylinder I, (Figs. 1, 2. 4.) with the clicks, &c. turns
on a steel axis X, firmly attached to the piece K, and in
a line with the axis of the endless screw. Motion is given
to this cylinder round its axis by a piece of cat-gut, wh.ich
hath one end fastened to the ratchet ring b ; and the other
end, after passing four or five times round the cylinder, is
fastened to a treadle ; and on pressing the treadle down-
wards, the clicks S catch in the teeth of one ofthe ratchet
wheels, by which means the cylinder I, together with the
endless screw, are turned round their axis, which moves
the plate along the iron fiamc, and at the same time winds
up the spiral spring u. On releasing the treadle, the

GRADUATION.

811

spring u unbends itself, the clicks quit the ratchet wheel,
and leave the endless screw at rest, while the cylinder I
turns in an opposite direction, and raises the treadle to
where it was before.

Figs. 2,4. V is a small square bar of steel, having both
its extremities cylindric. These cylinders move in holes
lined with hardened steel, one in the piece D, and the
other in the piece K. This bar carries three different
pieces, which are of tempered steel; the middle one t, is
made to lie in the interval between the threads of the
screw cut on the cylinder, and passes nearly half round its
circumference ; it is kept in the threads by a spring c,
which presses on a piece y, screwed to the iron frame.
This piece being attached to the bar V, by the screw fi,
turning the cylini er I on its axis, will give a longitudinal
inotion to the bar V.

The upper end of the piece/ (Fig. 2 ) is formed into a
hook, and may be set to catch in the teeth of any ol the
ratchet wheels, and then fastened to the barx* by the screw
i. Towards the other end of the bar is a piece j, which
serves to stop the cylinder in turning back, so as to limit
the number of revolutions or parts. It is fastened to any
required place on the bar v, by the finger screwy.

When the engine is used, the treadle is pressed down-
wards, which, by means of the cat-gut string, turns the
cylinder I round its axis ; (Plate CCLXXX. Figs. 2, 4.) and
the piece t moves along the thread, till a stud r on the
cylinder, striking on the top of the curved pit^ce <, bends
the spring e, till that piece rests on the piece q. By bend-
ing this spring, the square bar is turned a little on its axis,
and pulls the hook/ into the teeth on the ratchet wheel R.
Then releasing the treadle, the spiral spring turns back
the cylinder, till the piece j is brought under the stop on
the ratchet ring b.

The parts of a revolution are regulated, by setting the
number required on the ratchet ring 6, (Figs. 1, 2.) to the
index on the fixed ring a. Each of the teeth answers to a
inotion of -j q^tj of an inch of the plate A ; and the number
of revolutions, each of which moves the plate A j-^^ inch,
is regulated by setting the piecey on the bar.

L (Figs. 1, 2, 3 ) represents the steel frame, in which
the tracer is fixed. This frame turns between the conical
points of two screws w, n of tempered steel, which are
screwed in the frame Q. There are also two similar
screws in the same frame at m, ?n. The points of these
screws, which are also of tempered steel, turn in conical
holes in the piece P. By means of this parallel motion,
the tracing point, by which the divisions are cut, will
always describe the same line, without any lateral bend-
ing. The tracer is put in the hole in the axis 6, and is
fixed there by tightening the four screws/, which presses
the piece c against the fiat part of the axis.

This axis, which hath its pivots formed in double cones,
turns between the half holes at d, and may be fixed when
the tracer is set to any required inclination, by tightening
the screw S.

S (Fig. 6.) is a brass ruler, having its edges very straight
and parallel. It hath two thin pieces of steel g attached
to it, which turn on joints at A, exactly equi-distant from
the edges of the ruler. The interval between the pieces
g, g, is exactly the same with the width of the steel frame
L. There are angular notches on the lower edge of the
pieces g, similar and equi-distant from their centres ; so
that when any two corresponding notches are put on the
screws n, n, between the frames Q and L, the screws be-
ing on that part made cylindric, and botli of the same
diameter, then the edge of the ruler will always be at
right angles to a line drawn by the tracer. The ruler S,

in this manner attached to the cutting frame, may be set
parallel, or to any required inclination with the edge of
the plate A, by turning the handle T, which moves the
piece P with the cutting frame and ruler on the centre x,
and may be fixed there by tightening the nut P.

From a centre J, on the plate A, arc drawn two cir-
cular arcs. The outer one is divided into degrees, and
numbered from 1 to 9. Each degree is again subdivided
into six parts, or every ten minutes. The inner circle is
divided in the proportion, that the cosines of the angles of
inclination with the edge of tlie pluie A bears to the radius,
supposing the radius 10,000, and the divisions are num-
bered every lOih with 10, 20, to 140. But the use of this
apparatus may be perhaps better understood by an ex
ample.

Let it be required to divide a line of the length of 9
3%'^'g, into the same number of divisions, and in the same
manner as if it were 10 inches long. Put the ruler S to
the cutting frame L, and turn the handle T till the same
edge of the ruler cuts the centre J, and the first division
from the O of the inner arc. Then screw the instrument
to be divided firmly on the plate A, so that the line to be
divided may be parallel to the edge of the ruler, which
may be now removed. \Vhen the plate has moved 10
inches in its own direction, the v.hole length of the divi-
sions on the line dividerl will only be 9 -Y555 inches."

The screw of a dividing engine, whether for right lines
or circles, must be considered as a most essential part,
and should be of the most perfect workmanship. Proba-
bly from knowing, that there are several good methods of
producing a screw now well known to artists, Troughton
omitted to send an account of that by which his was made,
at the time he transmitted to us the description of his
engine. We will, however, annex the method of making
one ; and as that employed by Ramsden for his straight
line engine, may, for aught we know, be as good as any,
it has been selected. Tht following is Mr Ramsden's
own directions for making the screw, and the Plate is a
copy from his original.

" The exactness of the above described engine, depends
very much on the correctness of the endless screw, which
here is required to have some properties, that were not
absolutely necessary in the endless screw for the circular
engine. In that, as there were but a few threads of the
endless screw engaged in the teeth of the wheel, it only
required that those threads should have an equal inclina-
tion to the axis of the screw ; but in this engine, where the
whole length of the screw is engaged in the teeth of the
moveable plate, it is necessary also that the distance be-
tween the threads should be the same throughout the whole
length of the screw. This is effected by the screw engine
hereafter described.

Plate CCLXXXI. Fig. 7. Represents the plan;

Fig. 8. The elevation ; and

Fig. 9. A section on the line BO. The same letter re-
fers to the same part in each of tiie figures. A represents
a strong circular plate of brass, having its edge ratched by
the method given in the description of the circular engine.
On its centre is firmly fixed the pulley B by four screws ;
a groove is turned on the cylindric part of the pulley, per-
fectly concentric to the plate A.

Figs. 8. 9. C is a steel axis two feet long, terminating in
a point whereon it rests. The upper part of the axis is
firmly screwed to the plate A, and turns in the collar D.

Fig. 7. E represents an endless screw, which, being

turned on its axis, moves the plate A round its centre.

F, a divided circular plate, which may be turned with or

without turning the endless screw. On the other end of

5 K 2

812

GRADUATION.

the screw arbor is a wheel a, having its outer edge cut
into teeth. X is a winch whereby the endless screw is turn-
ed round.

rigs. 7, 8, 9. G represents a triangular bar of steel,
which passes over the circular plate A, and is firmly
screwed to the frame at H and I.

K, a piece of steel whereon the screw is intended to be
cut, having its pivots formed in the manner before describ-
ed. On one end of this steel is a wheel L, having teeth
round its circumference, which take into those on the
wheel a, on the arbor of the endless screw.

Figs. 7, 8. M and N represent two strong pieces of brass,
in which the steel whereon the screw is to be cut turns.
They are firmly fixed to the triangular bar G, by tighten-
ing the piece I by the screw n.

Figs. 7, 8, 9. O is a piece of brass, which slides on tlie
triangular bar G. Its two extremities are made to fit the
bar, it slides regularly thereon, and is prevented from ris-
ing by the two springing pieces c, c. Near one end of the
piece O, is an angular groove q, that holds the tool by
which the threads are cut. As it was necessary to cut the
screw after the steel was hardened and tempered, there-
fore the tool was pointed with a diamond. The cock W
serves to fasten the tool, which may be set to take proper
hold on the steel, by turning the finger screw S, and is fix-
ed there by the screw V.

To make a screw perfect, it is only required to give
the point which cuts the threads an uniform motion pa-
rallel to itself, and to the axis of the intended screw, and
that this motion be proportioned to the revolution of the
intended screw, as the number of threads may require.

To effect this, a piece of thin tempered steel, exactly
of the same thickness throughout, is fastened to the slide
O at r ; (Fig. 7.) the other end of the spring is fastened to
the pulley B, in the groove. Now, while the circle A,
with the pulley, is turning round its centre, by turning the
endless screw towards the right hand, the spring t draws
the slide O, with the cutter y, along the triangular bar ; at
the same lime the steel K, whereon the screw is to be cut,
is turned round its axis by the communication of the wheel
fi, on the endless screw with the wheel L.

It hath already been mentioned, that the screw of the
engine before described hath 20 threads in an inch ; there-
fore, if the number of teeth on the wheel a be to the num-
ber on the wheel L, as the number of teeth on the wheel
A is to the number of twentieths of an inch round the
circumference of the pulley B, allowing for part of the
thickness of the spring ?, the spaces between each of the
threads of the screw to be cut will be twentieths of an
inch.

The size of the pulley was determined in tliis manner :
the endless screw being disengaged from the wheel A, the
slide O was drawn back till the end of it came nearly to
the piece M ; the endless screw was again engaged in the
wheel A ; then having two very small dots on the slide O
set ofT parallel to one side, and exactly five inches distant
from each other ; the slide was moved by turning the end-
less screw, till one of the dots was bisected by a small
silver wire fixed across a hole in a thin piece of brass
attached to the piece N ; then the O on the divided wheel
F was set to its index, without moving the endless screw,
and the pulley was reduced, till 600 revolutions of the end-
less screw brought the other dot to be exactly bisected by
the fixed vire. These bisections were examined by a lens
of half an inch focus, set in a small brass tube, which was
fixed perpendicularly over the wire."

We believe that tlie above described right-line engine
has been chiefly employed in dividing such scales as sur-
veyors use for mapping their work, barometer plates, &c.

But contrary to what Mr Ramsdcn has stated, it should
be remarked, that, for unequal parts, (sines, tangents, i<c.)
its performance must be tedious, and of course expensive ;
for after every tread, the screw would retjuire to be put
forward by hand, to the amount of at least one significant
figure of the Tables for every division from which they are
gathered.

Mr Ramsden states the accuracy of this engine to be
etjual to the 4000th part of an inch, which it certainly
ought to be ; this exceeds in precision, by a small degree,
what may generally be expected from Bird's standard
measures ; yet, as we know that Sir George Shuckburgh
Evelyn sought in vain, when he examined our national
standards, for some work of Ramsden's to place in his list;
and as in the apparatus for our great trigonometrical sur-
vey, otherwise made entirely by himself, a 42 inch scale
of Bird's was used, it may be presumed he never execut-
ed any thing of the kind.

Soon after the above described engine was finished, and
before the description was published, another right-line
engine appeared. This, with the assistance of an ingenious
workman, was made by tire late Mr Harrison, a son of the
celebrated artist, who gained the great reward for finding
the longitude at sea by means of timekeepers. There is
reason to believe, that this engine possesses great merit,
and tliat, in its construction, it is materially different from
Ramsden's ; but we are not sufficiently acquainted with it
to point out those differences, or to offer any description
of it. We know, however, that this engine is not idle ; it
is in the possession of John Barton, Esq. a relation of
Harrison, who, we think, is now deputy comptroller of his
Majesty's mint. But the avocations of office cannot sup-
press his natural inclination to mechanical exercises, for
which his ingenuity, as well as his nice hand and eye, so
eminently qualify him.

There was a man of the name of Coventry, a glazier,
who for many years rendered himself useful by dividing
with wonderful minuteness and accuracy upon glass and
other substances, the micrometer scales for microscopes
and other purposes. His engine consisted of a very long
beam compass, nicely balanced, having at one end a socket
moveable by a micrometer screw, and furnished with a
fine diamond point. The death of this man, which only
happened a few years ago, would have been more regret-
ted, had not Mr Barton, with the engine of Harrison, pro-
duced, in similar vTorks, still more exquisite specimens of
art. The mother-of-pearl scales (Cavallo's micrometer)
come from his hand almost miracles of neatness and ac-
curacy.

It is, however, comparatively easy, to produce equality
among neighbouring divisions in short measures, to what
is required in larger works, where the most distant parts
would occupy their relative places as correctly as adja-
cent ones. The latter, indeed, is the great difficulty of
the art in all its branches, but more particularly so, in
that which is the subject of the next Section.

Sect. III. Original Graduation.

We now come to treat of the art in its highest order;
the importance of which may be inferred from consider-
ing with what attention it has been cultivated, during a
succession of ages, by men of science as well as artists.
A modern journalist has designated it, " one of the nicest
operations of manual labour;" the truth of which may be
evinced from the very limited number of those who have
performed it with success, and the high consideration in
which tliey are held by all who are qualified to appreciate
their labours. But the exactness required in the art may

GRADUATION.

813

be drawn from still more certain sources. In a circle of
three feet radius, wlvch is tliat of the mural circle at
Greenwich, a minute of a degree is little more than the
100th part of an inch, and this quantity, respecting lati-
tude, is the measure of about a mile upon the surface of
the earth ; but if we speak of longitude, as derived from
lunar and solar tables, the minute repiesents upon a mean
!io less than about 30 miles ; while some of the elements
of astronomy, respecting their maxima, are by observation
brought down from heaven to earth under an infinitely
greater disparity.

There was a time when astronomers graduated their
own instruments. 'I'ycho Brahe and Hevelius are said to
have done so; but neither the methods used by them, nor
by any of the more ancient astronomers, have come down
to us; nor perhaps need this, excepting from mere curi-
osity, be regretted, if the statement of the errors of their
instruments, given by Sir George Shuckburgh Evelyn
{PliU. Trans, tor 1793) be tolerably correct. Sir George
says, " With respect to the precision of astronomical in-
struments in general, I may notice, by the way, that from
the time of Hipparchus and Ptolemy, before and at the
commencement of the Christian aera, to the age of Wal-
ther and Copernicus, in the beginning of the 16th century,
few observations can be depended on to less than five,
eight, or perhaps ten minutes; those of Tycho Brahe, in-
deed, that princely promoter of astronomy, to within one
minute. The errors of Hevelius' large sextant of six
feet radius, towards the middle of the 17th century, inight
amount to 15 or 20 seconds; Flamstead's sextant to 10 or
12 seconds; and lastly, those of Graham's quadrant, of
eight feet radius, with which Dr Bradley made so many
observaiions from 1742, might amount to seven or eight
•seconds." It should, however, be remarked, that the
above statement, being derived from inspection of the
observations made with the several instruments, exhibits
errors not strictly imputable to graduation; apart may
have been produced by other defects in the instruments,
and also by imperfect observation.

Sir George (/■/«/. Trans, for 1798) examined the errors
of division in several ol the old British standard measures,
and compared their length with liis own, made by Trough-
ton in 1796. The first in his list is the standard yard of
Henry Vll. about the year 1490, which is said to have
been taken from the length of the arm ol that monarch ;
but as history is silent respecting this trait of his great-
ness, it may be presumed that the surveyors of his Ma-
jesty's person took lor the purpose hall the distance be-
tween the extreme finger ends i;f out-stretched hands and
arms. Upon this standard the greatest measured interval
exceeds the least, by no less a quantity than .152 of an
inch ; and the whole yard is .076 of an inch shorter than
Sir George's. In the standard yard of Elizabeth, about
1588, the greatest interval exceeds the least by .185, and
the entire yard is .015 longer. For the standard ell of
Elizabeth, of the same date, the greatest ditference of
intervals is .072, and the whole length exceeds the mo-
dern standard by .016 of an inch.

Many of our Standard measures bear no subdivisions,
being simply finished to the length. Of these, nothing
but their whole extent could be examined ; and this was
done by Graham in the four following instances. The
yard-bed of Guildhall, about 1660, too long by .032. Ell-
bed of Guildhall, same date, .018 too long. A standard
belonging to the clock-makers' coin|)aiiy, about 1671, too
short by .028 on 36 inches. And the standard of the lower
of London, about 1720, made by Rowley, was .004 too
long.

Graham's own standard, made by Sisson, in 1742, with

which it is supposed the above comparisons were made,
was itself examined by Sir George, and found to be as
follows: line E, .0013 longer, and line Exch. .0067 shorter,
upon 36 inches, than his own.

Many of the above measures exhibit miserable work;
a neat hand, by doubling, tripling, &c. a string, and ma-
king notches with a file, would subdivide belter. But it
is likely, and indeed the list indicates as much, that great-
er attention was paid to the whole length, than was done
to the intermediate parts; yet are the yard-bed of Guild-
hall, and the standard of the clock-makers company, ex-
ceptions, and differ from each other by no less than .06 of
an inch. Indeed, it seems difficult to suppose that the
makers of those measures did their very best. It is more
probable, that, according to their own judgment, or that
of the times in which they lived, they thought their works
sufilciently correct for the purpose ; or, as the ancient as-
tronomers graduated their own instruments, — might not
the magistrates of old make their own standard measures ?

Hevelius, and the astronomers who preceded him,
made their observations without the assistance of tele-
scopes, and the result of the well-known controversy be-
tween Hevelius and Dr Hook speaks highly in favour of
the division of his sector ; for men of science decided the
dispute in favour of the Dantzig astronomer, from the
superior accuracy of his observaiions; whereas, had the
instruments of Hook been equal in other respects, the
telescopic sights, as is now well known, must have given
him the advantage.

Dr Hook, in his animadversions upon the Machina
Calestis of Hevelius, published in 1674 the first method
of graduation that has been described. It consisted of
indenting the edge of an arc by the rotation of a screw
about its axis, in the manner that has since been practised
with success in the dividing engine ; the indentations them-
selves stood for the divisions of the instrument, the angu-
lar value of which were to be found by other means. A
screw similar to that which cut the teeth, was connected
with the telescope; and the number of teeth, and parts of
a tooth, as shewn upon the micrometer head of the screw,
gave the observed angle.

As the inventor of this method describes no means foF
correcting distant divisions, it may fairly be concluded,
that he did not foresee the necessity of any. And his
own words bear out this supposition. Dr Hook entitles
it. An exjilicalian of the neiv vjaij of dividing : and sjys,
that the Jierfection of Im inslrumenl is in the ivay of making
the division ; that it excels all the common -ways of divi-
sion ; and that it docs no! at all depend ufion the care and
diligence of the instrurient-maker, in dividing, graving or
numbering the divisicns, for .'he same screw makes it from
end to end.

With such screws as may be supposed to have been in
use at that time, their want of truth could have had no
good effect upon the run from end to end of the arc ; yet
as the same error would lecur at every complete revolu-
tion, no material mischief might arise. But it is evident
that the pans of a revolution would be affected by the
whole amount of such error. The method was put in
practice by Tompion, Sharp, Rowley, the Due de Chaul-
nes, and perhaps many others; but in every recorded in-
stance it completely failed ; and such instruments as bore
this graduation, before they could be depended on to any
uselul degree, were furnished with hand dividing.

Mr Smeaton seems to ascribe the failure of Hook's
method to the different resistance which tne different l-.ard-
ness in parts of the metal presciued to the action of the
screw; and undoubtedly this afforded one source ot error.
But wc are of opinion, that much greater errors arose from

814

GRADUATION.

the screw not being so sliarp at the end of the arc as it
was at the beginning; anil that notcl-.ing tlie screw, in or-
der to produce the full tooili, made it cut sharper with
the preceding edge of the threads in some pans, and the
following edge in others ; a fact which is mentioned by
'i'roughton as having embarrassed him in racking his en-
gine.

Both Hook and Hevelius, in their controversy, pretend-
ed, in measuring an angle, to come at the exactness of a
single second ; but as they flourished upon the verge of
an age when most things relative to science were taken
upon credit, perhaps tlieir works should not be too se-
verely criticised by those who live at a time when every
thing is tried by the test of experiment.

The polar sector of Flamstead, made by Tompion, with
which he made so many observations from 167G to 1689,
bore the screw division ; but its gross errors obliged Mr
FlaiTistcad himself to perform an original diagonal gradua-
tion upon its limb. It was about the latter date that a mural
arc was completed for the royal observatory, which, under
the direction of Flamstead, was altogether constructed by
his assistant Mr Sharp. This also had the division of
Hook, but it does not appear to have succeeded better
than that executed by 'I'ompion : however, Sharp's instru-
ment was at first furnishetl with a diagonal graduation
more accurate than any that had preceded it.

The celebrated astronoiner of Denmark, Olaus Roemer,
about the year 1715, finished a mural arc. Probably know-
ing of the failure of the screw method in England, he per-
formed his graduation in a very different way. Mr Smea-
lon, in the paper before alluded to, introduces his account
of Roemer's method with the following remark : " Though
it is a very simple problem, by which geometricians teach
how to divide a given right line into any number of parts
required, yet it is still a much more simple thing to set
off upon a given right line, from a point given, any num-
ber ot equal parts required, where the total length is not
exactly limited ; for this ainounts to nothing more than as-
suming a convenient opening of the compasses, and be-
ginning at the given point, to set off the opening of the
compasses as many times in succession as there are equal
parts required; which process is as applicable to the arch
of a circle, as it is to a right line. Of this simple princi-
ple Roemer endeavoured to avail himself" To this end
he took two finely pointed pieces of steel, and bound them
firmly together at a distance, which, as nearly as he could
calculate, would give liim divisions upon his arc of 10' each.
This contrivance was to avoid the spring of long-legged
compasses, and was, for the purpose intended, much bet-
ter than the best spring-dividers of the present day. With
this distance between the points of the tool, set off in suc-
cession 450 times, Roemer divided his arc of 75°. This
way of dividing has appropriately been denominated ste/i-
fting, and Hook's can be considered in no other light. Nei-
ther of them could give exactness in the total arc, even
within moderate limits; but this defect, great as it is,
would have been am|)ly compensated fur, had they secured
the grand desideratum of equal parts. Smcalon is of opi-
nion, that of those two methods. Hook's is the best, because
the screw, in making the teeth, has hold of several at a
time; and, as far as neighbouring divisions are concerned,
it certainly is so: but with respect to distant ones, as well
as general accuracy, we feel inclined to give the preference
to Roemer's. The astronomer of Uraniburg was the first
who read off the angles observed with instruments, by
means of a double microscope ; not indeed by a wire put
in motion by a micrometer screw, as is now done. Instead of
this, 10 equidistant parallel lines ot single silk were stretch-
ed across the field of view, and being adjusted so as to fill

the space between two of his dots, gave him single mi-
nutes : the seconds were obtained oivly by estimation.

Soon after the death of Flamstead, the royal oljservatory
was unfurnished. It has been said, that his executors de-
manded a higher price for the instruments than govern-
ment thought it right to pay. This was the more excusa-
ble in the latter, as it is probable that it was in contempla-
tion to procure new ones, in which case the old ones were
intrinsically of no more value than the materials of which
they were composed ; yet it is a pity that those veneraoie
and solid records of art should have left the spot where
they had been so useful in their day.

Graham undertook, about the year 1725, to construct for
our national establishment an eight feet mural quadrant.
This magnificent instrument still occupies its place ; and
though great part of a century has elapsed since its erec-
tion, it seems not to have suffered at all from either use or
time. Its frame is made of iron : the arc which bears the
graduation, as also the telescope and centre work, are of
brass. The contrivance and execution of the whole are
admirable ; but it should be remembered, that its division
alone is applicable to our present article.

To Graham, in the graduation of this quadrant, has been
ascribed the rejection of the diagonal method ; but certain-
ly he was not the first ; for Hook and Roemer did the same.
He has also the credit of being the fiist who discontinued
the practice of cutting the divisions by the edge of a ruler
with the dividing- knife, instead of which he substituted the
beam-compass. His strokes cut in this way, of course,
were circular arcs ; but as they were short in comparison
with the length of the beam, the bend was scarcely per-
ceptible ; and as the resting point was set in a line that
made a tangent to the arc where the strokes were cut, the
Matter would stand nearly in the direction of the radius.
With respect to making divisions with the beam-compass,
it may be doubted whether it was not a practice among in-
strument makers, particularly upon chamfered edges, be-
fore the time that the Greenwich quadrant was finished ;
and we have seen old works that indicated it. But there
was another improvement of much more importance than
either of the above, which was indisputably the invention of
Graham ; that is, the division of the quadrant into 96, which
precludes altogether the practice of stepping, and has ren-
dered essential service to astronomy.

Graham's quadrant is described at length in Smith's
Optics, and we have availed ourselves of the process pur-
sued in its graduation, by copying the following account
from that celebrated work.

" There are 2 arches struck upon the brass limb; one
with a radius of 8 feet, or more exactly of 96.85 inches;
and the other with a radius of 95.8 inches. This inner arch
is divided into degrees, and 12ih parts of a degree; and the
outward arch into 96 equal parts, which are severally sub-
divided into 16 equal parts. The beam of the compass
which struck these arches, was secuied from bending, by
several braces fastened to it ; and when an arch was struck,
60 degrees of it was determined, by placing one point of
the compass at a, (Fig. 1. Plate CCLXXXII.) and by
making a stroLe with the other at b. Tliis arch a 6, was
bisected in c, by drawing two small arches upon the cen-
tres a and b, with such a radius as to cross the arch a c b,
in two points as near together as possible, without toucliing
each other ; then the small interval between them was bi-
sected at c, by estimation of the eye, assisted by a magnify-
ing glass. Alter this, the interval between the points a and
c, or c and i, was taken with the beam compass, and was
transferred from b to rf, which determined the length of the
quadraiital arch a c b d. Every one of the three arches
being bisected in the same manner, the quadrant became

GRADUATION.

815

divided into six equal parls, containing 1 S degrees apiece ;
and everyone of these was divided into llirec equal parts,
as follows. To avoid making any false or siipcrHuuus
points in the ([uadrantal arch, with its ra.iius unaltered, but
upon any other centre, there was struck aTiother faint arch,
upon which the chord of 15 degrees, already found, was
transferred Irom the quadraiital arch ; and the third part
of 15 degrees, being determined by trials upon the faint
arcli, was tra.nsfcrred back again upon the quadrantat arch ;
which then was divided into 18 equal parts, containiMg 5
degrees apiece ; and the 5th part of these was found by
trials, as before, in dividing a separate arch, drawn upon a
new centre for this purpose only. The subdivisions of the
degrees into 12 ecjual parts, were made by bisections and
trisections, as before. Tims was the whole quadrant di-
vided without any false or superfluous points.

The outward quadrantal arch was divided into 96 equal
parts, by no other method than that of bisection, till 60 de-
grees, or two thirds of the quadrant, became divided into
64, and the remaining third into 32 equal parts, which make
96 in the whole. And every one of these was also divided
into 16 equal parts by continual bisections. These two
sorts of divisions are a check upon each other, being in ef-
fect two different quadrants ; and the divisions in one being
reduced into the divisions of the other, by a table made for
that purpose, they are never found to differ above five or
six seconds in any place of the limb, and when they do, the
preference ought to be given to the bisected divisions, as
being determined by a simpler operation.

The divisions hitherto mentioned being only very fine
points in a fine arch a b d, scarce descernible by the naked
eye, it was necessary, as usual, to strike lines perpendicular
to the arch, through every one of them. But since it is
very difficult, and tedious too, to draw lines exactly through
every point by the edge of a ruler, the following method
was judged more accurate and expeditious. It was pro-
posed then to divide any other concentric arch, y/i t, by
cross strokes, into similar parts to those in the given arch
a c g c b d. Take a small beam compass, and having once
fixed its points at any convenient interval ; upon the cen-
tres <?, gi &c. being the given points of the divided arch,
strike the small arches_/" i, k k, &c. cutting the undivided
arch in/, h, Sec; then will the intercepted arches, as/. A,
&c. be similar to the arches e, g, &c that is, they will sub-
tend the same angles at their common centre o For join-
ing e /, g h, and also o /, o h, o e, o g, the triangles e o f,
go It, will be similar and equal to each other; every side
in one being respectively equal to every side in the other.
Therefore, by taking away the common angle e o A, from
the equal angles, e o /, g o h, the angles e o g^,f o h, that
remain, will also be equal.

If the triangles efo,gh o. &c. be right angled at /and
A; the dividing strokes/i, h /c, kc. will cut the quadrantal
arch/A t at right angles, also at/and A, he"

Respecting the means employed by Graham in the di-
vision of the arc of 90°, there is nothing in them, except
what has already been noticed, that evinces superior con-
trivance ; it is to his accurate execution, and the invention
of the continually bisectional arc, that he owes the well-de-
served reputation which he holds among those who have
distinguished themselves in the art of graduating astrono-
mical instruments.

Before the lime that Bird flourished, there is not a word
to be found in the history of graduation about the dilatation
and contraction of metals in different temperatures ; and it
may be supposed, that as Graham made his quadrant of

iron, and the limb of brass, he was unacquainted with the
different expansions of those metals. Our doubts, how-
ever, respecting the accuracy of that insirument, from this
circumstance, iiave been partly removed, by the writer of
this part of our article having heard Troughtoii say, that he
had looked at it with an eye to this matter; tliat he is of
opinion, from estimating the elasticity of those metals at 8
or 10 times their difference of expansion, in such tempera-
tures as they are exposed to in the observatory, that the
iron will command the brass, and little or no erroi will en-
sue. The same artist also observes, that as the iron (]uad-
rant has long borne an additional arc of 96°, divided by
Bird, and as there is no proof of its having changed its
figure since that arc was put on, as the brass one has cer-
tainly done to the amount of 7 or 8 seconds, for aught that
is known to the contrary, the iron one may be the better in-
strument; but as both of them are now superseded by the
new mural circle, this question may, perhaps, remain for
ever at issue, and its discussion is now rendered of far less
interest than it would have been 30 years ago.

Graham laid it down as a principle or maxim, " that it is
possible, practically, to bisect an arch or a right line, but
not to trisect, quinquisect. Sec." Bird not only acted upon
this maxim, to the full scope of what had been done by the
artist who conceived it, but extended it even to the division
of the arc of 90°. We will not, however, anticipate the me-
thod of Bird, which is in many respects original and inge-
nious; for every one who dips into these matters will de-
rive the most satisfactory information from perusing his
own account of it, as published by order of the Board of
Longitude in 1767, the whole of which is subjoined.

" The following method of dividing astronomical instru-
ments, &c. is collected principally from the experience
which I have gained in the space of thirty-four years; and,
in some parts, from the instructions which I received from
the late Mr Jonathan Sisson.

What I call my own, 1 have distinguished by Italic cha-
racters. If any other instrument makers have used the
same method, it is unknown to me ; and shall, therefore,
pay no regard to any pretensions unsupported by evidence;
I mean, pretensions, without producing astronomical in-
struments superior, or, at least, equal to those which I
have made.

How far the lunar theory hath been improved by the ob-
servations of the late Dr Bradley and Mr Mayer, I leave
to the decision of those who have tried it by observations,
in order to find the longitude at sea. Sec. I cannot help,
however, being fully of opinion, that a still more perfect
knowledge of the motion of the heavenly bodies may be ob-
tained by future observations, skilfully made, with accurate
instruments.

1 have been favoured with so distinguished a mark* of
approbation from the Commissioners of Longitude, that
nothing on my part shall be wanting, that may, in the least,
contribute to so desirable an end :" — So fat the preface.

" It will be sufficient, for my purpose, to make use of no
more lines and arcs than are represented in Fig. 2. Plate
CCLXXXII.

T/ie requisites for the fierformance of this work are as fol-
low : — ./t scale of equal /larta, by which the radius may be
jncoburid to O.OUl of an inch, must be /irovided. J\fy scale
is 90 inches long, each inch divided into 10, contiguous ta
which are nonius divisions, viz. 10.1 inches divided into 100
equal jiarts, shewing ii.OOl of an inch; and. by the assint-
anee of a magnifying glass, of one inch focal length, a third
o/" 0.001 may be taken off by estimation.

* Bird received the sum of 560/. by certificate from the Commissioners of Longitude, for his method of graduation, together with that of
consU'UCting mural quadrants ; the latter of which was published soon afterwards.

816

GRADUATION.

Provide five beam comfiasaea, to which magnifying glasses,
of not more than one inch focal length, should be a/i/Uied.
Let the longest beam be sufficient to dram the arcs, and mea-
sure the radius ; the 2rf, to measure the chord of i2° 40';
the 3d, to measure the chord of 30° ; the ith, 10° 2C/ ; the
5th, 4° 40'; and if a 6th, to measure 15°, be made use of,
so much the better.

I have, for the sake of a round number, mentioned above,
that the radius of the mural arc in the Royal Observatory at
Greenwich is eight feet ; but, as I shall here fiut down the
lengths of the several chords viade use of in the dividing, it
will be necessary to note the ejcact radius in inches and deci-
vialfiarts.

The radius of the arc of 90°, at the fioints, = 95.928
inches, from which the following numbers were comfmted,
viz. 49,6615 inches = chord of 30°, — 25.0448 inche% =
chord of 15° — 17.279047 inches = chord of 10° 20' —
7.81186 inches, z:Z chord of 4° 40', and 69.80318 inchrs —
chord of 4,2° 40'. Having drawn the several arcs, between
which the divisions were to be cut, the radius and the lengths
of the above chords were taken by the beam compasses,
which, together with the scale, were laid ufion the quadrant,
where they remained till the next morning, during which
time the door of the room was kefit locked. Before sun-rise
I remeasured the radius, which required some correction ; the
beam being of white fr, and the scale of brass, which probably
contracted, while the beam remained unaltered. The other
beam comfiasses also required correction.

Woiu the quadrant and scale being of the same temfiera-
ture, the faint arc b, d, was struck, and, with a very fine
prick-punch, the point a was made. With the same beam
compass, unaltered, I laid off, from a to e, the chord of 60°,
making also a fine point. With the chord of 30°, a e was
bisected in c. JVow, one point of the beam compass, contain-
ing 60°, was fixed in c ; and with the other was marked the
point r, or 90°. JVext, with the beam compass, containing
15°, was bisected e r in n, or 75°. From n was laid off the
chord of 10° 20', and from r, 4° 40'; which two last chords
joined exactly in g, being the poirit of &i° 20'. Now each
degree brimg to be divided inio 12 parts, or every 5', there-
fore 85 X 12 + 4 = 1024, a number divisible by continual
bisections- The last chord computed -luas 42° 40', with which
a gwas bisected in o; a o and o g were bisected by trials.
But whoever undertakes to divide a large yvadrant will do
well to compute also the chord o/'21° 20' ; but for this chord
any of the beam compasses already provided, which viUl take
in the length, may be used. The point g being found as
above, I proceeded, by co?itinual bisections, till I had the
number required, viz. 1024. To fill up the space between
g and r, containing 56 divisions, the chord of 64 divisions was
laid off from g towards d, and divided, like the rest, by con-
tinual bisections, as was also from a towards b. The points
30°, 60°, 75°, and 90°, fell in without any sensible inequality.
Here it is necessary to mention in what manner the bi-
secting and pointing were performed. Having the chord
of 42° 40' in the beam compass, and one point placed in a,
ivitli the other a faint arch of about ^-^ of an inch in length
was made in o. Again, one point ol the beam compass was
placed in ^, and with the other the aforesaid faint arch was
intersected. Here, as in all other places, great care was
used to make the points exactly in the arc to be divided,
and also in the intersection.

In the following pages, I shall not only describe the far-
ther process in dividing the mural arc in the Royal Obser-
vatory, but endeavour also to make the description general.
If the chord should be taken a little too long, or too short,
so that the intersection be made on one side or the otlier
of the arc to be divided, it will not occasion an inctiualitv,
provided the point be made in the middle between the two

short lines, exce/it at the point of 85° 20', where great ear'e-
must be used in taking the chords from the scale. Great
care must also be used in pointing intersections in general,
being more difficult than a single line. But here I must not
be understood to mean a single line made by one point of the
compass ; for, in all bisections, the place to be pointed must
be laid otV from left to right, and from right to left ; and if
any error arises from an alteration of the beam compass,
it will be shewn double.

In dividing, the points of the beam compass should
never be brought nearer together than two or three inches,
except near tlie ends of the arch or line to be divided ;
and there spring-dividers, having round points, which may
be put in and taken out occasionally, will best answer the
purpose.

The next thing to be considered is, the method of mak-
ing the points. The prick-punch for this purpose must
be extremely sharp and round, the conical point to make
a pretty acute angle ; and as the points herewith to be
made should not exceed 0.00 1 of an inch, when linear divi-
sions are to be cut from them, a magnifying glass of J inch
focal length should be used ; by the assistance of which, the
impression or scratch, made by the points of the beam-
compass, will be very conspicuous; and if the »aid im-
pression be not too faint, feeling, as well as seeing, will
greatly contribute to make the points properly.

It is scarce necessary to say any thing about the arc of
95°. I shall only mention, that it contains 1536 divisions;
is to be divided into three equal parts, in the same manner
as the arc of 90°. Each third contains 512 divisions;
which number is divisible continually by 2, and gives 16 in
each 96th part of the whole arc.

This arc of 9 6, (so far as I know,) was first applied to
the iron quadrant in the Royal Observatory, in the year
1725, by my late worthy friend, Mr George Graham. Il
was not only a severe check upon that great mechanic, but
will be so to all others, who divide the two arcs upon one
and the same instrument ; yet, if the above instructions be
strictly followed, the agreement between the two will be
surprising, and differ very little from the truth.

The next step is, to cut the linear divisions from the
points. The best instrument for this purjiose is the beam-
compass, having both its points corneal, and very sharp.
Draw a tangent to the arc b d, suppose at e, it will inter-
sect the arc x y'ln q ; this will be the distance between the
points of the beam compass to cut the divisions (nearly at
right angles to the arc b d.)

Lodge that point of the beam compass next your tight
hand, in the point r; let the other fall freely into the arc,
X y ■, firess gently with your finger upon the screw head,
which fastens the socket (this screw-head inust be convex^
and right over the point;) and, with the point towards the
right hand, cut the divisions. — In this manner you must pro-
ceed with the rest.

Having finished the divisions of the limb, the nonius
divisions are next to be divided. Choose any part of the
arch, where there is a coincidence of the 90 nnd 96 arches,
which let be at f : Draw the faint arcs st andi k, which
may be continued to any length towards A, upon which the
nonius divisions must be divided in points ; a tangent line,
as Ijefore, intersecting this arc, gives the distance of the
points in the beam compass. Now as the nonius divisions
of the arc 90° subdivide the divisions of the limb of the
mural arc at Greenwich to half a minute, 1 1 divisions of
the limb being equal to 10 upon the nonius plate (a num-
ber which only 5 and 2 will divide) recourse must again be
had to comfiutation. Measure the radius of the arc, and
compute the chord of I 6, or rather 32, of the nonius divi-
sions ; the quantity of an arc equal thereto may be easily

GRADUATION.

817

had by the foUowing firo/iortion : Js 10 div.: 55' {^Ihc
?tti!nbir uf mimitcH in 1 1 dwis'wns of the limb) : : 32 Uiv.
2°, 56, the chord of which mii.il be com/itited, and taken
from the scale of ecjtial fiarls : 15ut as (HlVcrciU subdivisions
by the nonius may be required, let n = 7iun:bcr of nonius
divisions, m = number of minutes taken in by the nonitis,
Ln:16, 32, or 64, and x ^: arc sought ; then as u : ui : : b : x.

J.ay off ivith the beam comfiass, having the length of the
tangent hetiveen the fioints, the fioint q from e, ctnd the
chord of 32 from q towards the left hand, and divide by
continual biscr.lions, 10 of those divisions, counting from q
to the left, will be the jioints required. As the number ol"
nonius divisions lor the 96 arch should always be 16,32,
&c. I need only mention, that tiie extremes may be laid
off from the divisions of the limb, wiiliout computation.

Now the place ujSon the cliamfcred edge of the nonius
plate, where the nonius is to begin, may be found in the
following manner. Measure the distance of the quadrant
centre, from the axis of the telescope ; this distance from
the axis of the telesco/ie at the eye-end, will be the filace
for the first division of the nonius, where draw a faint line
from the centre. Thi greater accuracy with which this is laid
off, the nearer to the axis of the tube will be the intersec-
tion of the wires, in the conunon focus of the object and eye-
glasses.

I will suppose that no instrument-maker will fix to the
telescope the nonius, and centre-plates, without steady-pins,
as well as screws. Screw the centre-plate of the telescope
very fast: put the nonius plate upon the steady-pins, with-
out screws, and put the telescope upon the quadrant : make
fast the nonius plate to the arch with two pair of hand-
vices, and take the telescope away. JVo7v with one fioint
of a beam cojn/iass, in the centre of the quadrant, and the
other at the middle of the nonius plate, draw a faint arch
from end to end : U'here this arch cuts the faint line before-
mentioned, make a fine fioint : From this fioint lay off on
each side another, which may be at any distance i?i the arch;
only care must be taken, that they be equally distant from
the middle fioint: From the two last make a faint intersection,
as near as fios.iibte to either of the chamfered edges of the
nonius fi late : Through this intersection the first division of
the nonius must be cut.

Put the telescofie again ufion the centre of the quadrant,
the steady-fiins into the nonius Jilate as before ; unscrew the
hand-vices, and bring the last-mentioned intersection to e or
60° ufion the limb, where fasten it again with the hand-vices,
and take away the telescofie. Now, from tlie [joint before
divided, the nonius divisions must l)e cut ; by lodging the
left hand point of the beam compass in the point upon the
arch, and cutting with tlie right.

Here great care must be taken to cut the first division
of the nonius through the point of intersection ; which may
be done by altering the distance of the points in tlie beam
compass, if necessary : Tiiis will not sensibly affect the
perpendicularity of the divisions, provided the intersection
be placed very near to e, or 60°.

Having cut the nonius divisions, suppose of the 90 arc,
take up the plate, polish off the bur, and fasten it to the
limb, as before ; but here great care must be taken to
make the first division of the nonius coincide with the 60th
deg. so as to appear one line ; and the nojiius of the 96 arc
may be cut in the same manner, making the first division
coincide with 64 = 60° upon the limb.

-Voiy. take ufi the plate, and draw a tangent at the point
in the faint arc in the middle of the nonius filate ; and with
a distance aijout a (juartcr of an inch longer than tiie no-
nius, lay off from the tangent point another in the tangent
line; also lay off this di.stance from the centre of the col-
Jar at the object end of the telescope, and make a line

Vol. IX. PAKr II.

point: 'I'hcn extend tiic beam-compass nearly the whole
length of the nonius, or centre plate (which shoulil read),
at least, half an inch beyond the telescope, on the conlraiy
side,) and lay off othei' points in the tangent line before
mentioned, and in a line passing through the centre of the
quadrant, at right angles to the telescope.

Now screw the two plates to the telescope, and draw
lines by the edge of a steel ruler through the corresjiond-
cnt points, to which lines the plates must be carefully filed.
Then the ends of the plates will be in lines parallel to cacli
other, and to the axis of the tube, which affords an excel-
lent mechanical method of finding the line of collimation
of the telesco|)e.

The apparatus used for this purpose by the late Mr
Graham, was a box equal in length to the telescope, hav-
ing deep sides to prevent its bending by its own weight.
The ends were of hard wood. Instead of which, I use two
fat fiieces of brass, which I can move according to different
lengths required ; and by the help of a small sfiirit -level,
these fiieces of brass may be fixed in one and the same
filane. This apparatus should stand firm upon the ground,
where a distant and distinct object can be seen. Rest the
ends of the nonius and centre plates upon the two pieces
of brass, and observe what point of the object is cut at the
intersection of the horizontal and vertical wires. Invert
the telescope, and if the horizontal wire does not cut the
same point of the object, it must be altered by the screws
for that purpose, half the difl'crence. By repeating this,
you may approximate extremely near the truth.

In the middle, between the 90 and 96 arches of the mu-
ral quadrant, in the royal observatory, is an arch of points
(96,) which are used with a silver wire, of about 600 in an
inch, carried by a small frame, screwed to the end of the
nonius plate. When the wire, in an observation, falls be-
tween two points, it must, by the micrometer screw, be
made to bisect the nearest point to the left hand, the in-
strument shewing the zenith distance ; and the minutes
and seconds shewn by the micrometer added. If the next
point to the right hand be bisected, the minutes and seconds
must be subtracted. I'his arch of points was divided in
every respect like the other arch of 96.

Having gone through the whole process of dividing the
mural arc, &c. it will be necessary to shew some reason
wliy this kind of management hath succeeded better than
any other, as far as I cither know or have heard.

ylfter I had found by exfierience, that the exfiansion of
the instruments to be divided, occasioned by the increasing
heat of the sun, or a contraction by a decrease thereof, was
the grand difficulty with which I had to struggle, esfiecially
when two or three hour.'! were required to lay off the princi-
fial fioints i I immediately set about contriving how to lay
them off in the least time fiosiible, i. e. before any exfian-
sion or contraction could take filace ; and as the heat of
three or four Jiersons in the room may firoduce the same ef-
fect as the sun, 1 7iever admit more than one as an assistant.
JVeilher must any fire be suffered in the room, till the firinci-
finl fioints are done.

Tlie above being understood, it ii'as easy to conceive, that,
having all the chords before-mentioned comfiuted and mea-
sured, the evening before they were to be laid off, I should
be enabled to fierforin in a few minutes, what by trials
would require some hours ; and as too much caution cannot
be used, it is firofier to lay off the firincifial fioints before
sun rise, or else choose a cloudy moryiing.

The method of cutting the divisions as described above,
is to Jirevent any inequality that would arise from the ex-
fxansion of .the beam compass by the heat of the hands, espe-
ci.Tlly if the beam be of metal. Wooden beams will also
alter, probablv from a small bending ; but in this method,

5 L

818

GRADUATION.

if the beam should alter -J^ of an inch or more, it mould ?iot
cause any sensible inei/ualily. As the points of the nonius
divisions cannot be divided upon the nonius plate without
inconvenience, it is best to use the method loinierly de-
scribed, holding the beam com/iass a small while in the liand
previous to the cutting. The points being but few in num-
ber, the divisions may be cut before any expansion can sen-
sibly take effect.

Sextants, or octants, for observing the distance of the
moon from the fixed stars, should be divided by the fore-
going method, great accuracy being required. If instead of
dividing sexta7its to every 20' vfi07i the limb, as is commonly
done, I hey should be divided to lb', a chord of 64° might be
laid off, and divided by continual bisections- This would,
in some measure, crowd the limb with divisions ; but it
would shorten the nonius; lor 15, instead of 20, would
shew one minute.

In dividing either arches or straight lines, a number
(which will divide continually by 2) greater than is requir-
ed upon the arc or line, is the best to begin with, and may
be used in dividing a circle, by laying ofl' the chord of the
difference. Suppose it was reijuired to divide a circle into
54 equal parts, it would be 64 — 54 :z Ui — 10° 30' ; the
chord of which laid off must be addttl to 360°, and it will
be 360+10° 30', to be divided into 64 equal parts. 54 of
which will complete the circle. If the arc of 10° 30' be-
laid off from a dividing plate, it will answer the same pur-
pose.

jinalagous to the foregoing method, my scale of equal
fiarts luas divided. I took '^'o^ °/ "" '"^f' "' " beam com-
pass, laid the scale which I took it from, the brass scale to
be divided, and the beam co7n/iass in a room facing the
north, where they lay the whole night. Early next morning,
after correcting the lengths, the above 'J^ were laid ofl' three
times (the brass being long enough to take it in ;) then,
having in other compasses 256, 128, and 64, I bisected the
three spacesof 512 with all the expedition I could. Hav-
ing now only 64 inches in the last beam compass, any par-
tial or unequal expansion was not to be feared; therefore
worked by continual bisections till I had done. The linear
diz'isions were cut from the jioints with a beam C07n/iass, as
before described.

The nonius divisions of this scale contains Ys^ of an
inch, which were divided into 100 in the following manner:
.Is 100 : 101 : : 256 : 258.56 tenths of an inch, the integer
i>i this case being -i. Suppose the scale to be numbered
at every inch from lefi to right; then exactly against -J^,
to the left of 0, was made a fine point, fro7n which was laid
off 258.56 to the right hand. This was taken from a scale
3 feet in length, which was divided after the common me-
thod ; but the error was so small as to vanish at the other
extremity of the nonius, wlien divided continually by 2. •

Whoever undertakes to divide a scale of the above kind,
not being furnished with one long enough to lay ofl" 258.56,
7nay take ^^f^ .from that before him, to which he may add 8 55
t\'.ken froma diagonal scale, that 7nay be 7nade at a small ex-
pence.

To prove the expedience of the above methods of divid-
ing astronomical instruments. Sec. I need only to mention
the following particulars, taken from the Nautical Almanac
for this present year 176", page 152.

" Mr Mayer made his observations with his six-foot mu-
ral arch, from the year 1756 to the time of his decease :
■with it he settled the mean obliquity of the ecliptic, to the
beginning of the year 1756, at 23° 28' 16"; which Dr
Bradley settled by his observations, made in the year 1750
and 1751, at 23° 28' 18". The difference is agreeable to
what ought to arise from the gradual diminution of the
obliquity of the ecliptic at the rate of about i a second in a

year," Sec. That two different observers, with instruments
of difl'erent radii, and in diflerent parts of Europe, should
so nearly agree, is matter of no small astonishment, and
sufficiently proves, that a mean of several observations,
made by good observers, with accurate instrun)ents, pro-
perly adjusted, will always lead us either to the truth itself,
or extremely near to it.

Excepting the means of rendering the common subdivi-
sion of the circle bisectional, and his care in avoiding er-
rors from expansion, Bird's method of cutting the strokes
was its most important deviation from the practice of Gra-
hain. The latter made his dots in the tangential line,
which supported the resting point of the compass, while
the other point, at a considerable distance, traced the divi-
sions. Bird, by making his dots extreriiely near to the outer
ends of the strokes, and resting the point in an tmdivided
tangential line, avoided any error that might arise from an
alteration of the length of the beam duiing the operation,
which was a serious objection to Graham's way of proceed-
ing. We should, however, have been afraid that the rest-
ing point, on being simply dropped into the line, and having
apparently nothing to hold it there, might have been in
danger of slipping, did not we know that artists themselves,
provided the metal be sound, are apprehensive of little or
no erioron this account.

Soon after the publication of Bird's method, that of the
Duke de Chaulnes made its appearance, which has in the
preceding Section been noticed as applicable to a dividing
engine. He was the first who employed double microscopes
in the graduation of the circle ; a practice which, in the
hands of others, the Duke's work, known or unknown to
them, has essentially improved the art. There are also
two more peculiarities in De Chaulnes' method, that de-
serve to be noticed. One is its being purely visual. The
whole is done by the eye, except cutting the real divisions;
and even this, to prevent the eriors of the hand, is perform-
ed by machinery. The other is, that, to avoid superfluous
marks upon the limb, he had provided, ready for his pur-
pose, a competent number of thin pieces of brass, about one-
third of an inch long, and one-sixth broad, with a fine line
upon the surface of each, drawn perpendicular to its length.
To make these pieces adhere to the surface that was to re-
ceive the divisions, their under planes were thinly coated
with wax, and thereby made capable of being easily adjust-
ed to their places, and of retaining that position unt:l the
divisions represented by them were inserted.

The circle to be divided moves round horizontally upon
a vertical axis, within a strong frame of wood, to wiiich the
microscopes are fixed, and applicable to any part of it.

The first step is, to bisect the circle. To this end one
of the brass pieces is to be made fast with screws, at the
place which is intended to be zero, the line upon its sur-
face being directed towards the centre. A microscope is
affixed to the frame, with its radial wire coincident with the
line, and its cross one a tangent to the circle. Another mi-
croscope is secured on the frame, by estimation or any
better way, diametrically opposite to the first, and one of
the waxed pieces placed under it, so that the line and wires
may have to each other, and to the circle, the same rela-
tion as al)ove. Let the circle be turned half round within
the frame, so as to bring the zero line coiiic dent with the
radial wire of the other microscope. If now the line of
the waxed piece be found exactly under the wire of the first
microscope, it is evirlcnt that t)ie circle is bisected ; but
as this can hardly happen in the first instance, the apparent
error must be corrected one half, by sliding the waxed
piece towards the wire, ar.d the other half by moving the
microscope to it. The circle must again be turned half

GRADUATION.

819

round, to verify llic coiTCClion, or, if necessary, to afibrd
means for a second correction, and the oi)eralion repeated
until the lines exactly coincide with the wires in Ijoth posi-
tions of the circle. This being done, the microscope which
has under it the zeio piece sliould be reijai'ded as fixed,
and let its name be A ; the other, which we will call U, is
to be taken ofl', and reserved for future use. In the room
of B there is to be fixed the tracer or cutting point, so that
if the piece were taken oft', which it must not l)e, the tracer
would cut a line exactly in its place, or diametrically op[)0-
site to the zero line. By this contrivance, it becomes ne-
cessary only to divide half the circle ; for if the divisions
of one semicircle are brought successively to the wire of
A, the tracer will cut their oppositesin the other.

The second step is, to trisect the semicircle, which is to
be done by two more of the adjustable pieces, and the two
microscopes, With zero undei- A, place B as nearly at an
angle of 60° from it as can he done by estimation or othcr-
wibe, and put a waxed piece under it ; move back the cir-
cle so as to bring the waxed piece to A, and put another
under B ; again move the circle so as to bring the second
piece under A, when, if B should happen to coincide with
the line opposite to zero, the tiling is done ; but if not, as
most likely will be the case, then B must be moved towards
the line one-third of the quantity of apparent error, and the
operation repeated, as was done for bisecting the circle.
The third step is, to bisect the three equal arcs of the se-
micircle, which is done by similar means ; and at the
fourth step by which those last are trisected, arcs of 10'
are obtained.

The Duke de Chaulnes' microscopes could not lie
brought near enough to each other to bisect the arcs of
10°; he therefore had recourse to that of 9", which he found
and used in the following manner. He obtained it by tak-
ing ten steps with nine ailditional waxed pieces for each of
the two quadrants, which he brought to their places by fre-
quent trial and adjustment. With this opening between
the microscopes, from the tens he set off all the nines for-
wards, and all the ones backwards. He then resumed the
former opening of 10°; and as the operation for ascertain-
ing the arc of 9" had left a waxed piece in every interval
of 10''', which would in their respective places represent 8°,
7°, 6°, &c. to 2° in each quadrant, with the opening of 10°
from eight, he set off all the eights, from seven he set off
all the sevens, &c. and in this manner put in every single
degree of the semicircle.

As all the waxed pieces had their opposites cut in the
other, it was not necessary to have 180 ol them ; for it is
evident from the mode of procedure, that alter the ones and
nines had been put in, neither these nor the tens could be
wanted. The semicircle of trial has yet upon it no divi-
sions, and how (the waxed pieces being removed) it was di-
vided from the other, has already been mentioned.

It is observed, that when a circle is laige enough to al-
low the microscopes to come so near eacli other as to bi-
sect the arc of 10°, the nund^ers four and five may with ad-
vantage be substituted for nine and ten ; and when half de-
grees are required, it is proposed to bisect the arc of 15°,
and with this opening to put in all the half degrees.

To subdivide the degrees into five-minute spaces, the
Duke de Chaulnes proposes to mount a telescope with a
vertical wire in its focus, upon the centre arbor of the cir-
cle, so that it may either revolve with the circle, or concen-
tric to it by itself, as the case may require ; and let a long
beam of wood be provided, accurately divided into twelve
equal parts, anri placed at such a distance as to subtend an
angle of otie degree ; a thin piece of brass is to be fixed
upon the circle under the tracer ; and as the telescope and
circle are turned round together, and the wire made suc-

cessively to coincide with the divisions of the beam, the
corresponding strokes arc to be drawn upon the piece of
brass : and lastly, this piece is to be placed under the fixed
microscope, in order that by means of it and the tracer,
every degree may be filled up.

The ingenious inventor of the above method, like those
who preceded Bird, has made no provision against the er-
rors arising from expansion ; indeed, his tracer being fixed
opposite to the ])oint of trial, subjects his work to the
greatest possible error in that respect ; and inider this
disadvantage, his division of the first semicircle is no more
than a copy of the wax-woik ; and, again, the second se-
micircle is, under the same disadvantage, a copy from the
first.

The method of Hindlcy having been in part communi-
cated toSmeaton in 1741, and fully in 1748, might in our
article have preceded some of the methods already noticed,
but as he received it under the seal of secrecy, it was un-
known to the public until 1785, in which year Mr Smea-
ton's pa])er, bcloie referred to, concerning it, was read to
the Royal Society.

Smeaton introduces this metliod under the full persua-
sion that vision, even when assisted by glasses, cannot com-
mand a greater degree of accuiacy than to the 4000th pait
of an inch ; and maintains, that by contact, the 60,000tli be-
comes equally sensible. Were this true, and contact aji-
plicable to the graduation of instruments whhoul c/raiviact:,
a fine field of improvement would have been opened to the
artist through the paper under consideration.

Mr Smeaton says, " It now conies to be lime to open a
principle, upon which there is a piospect of effecting such
an improvement. I have shewn that a 4000th pait of an
inch is the ultimatum that we are to expect from sight,
though aided by glasses, when observing the divisions of
an instrument. But in the 48th volume of the P/iihso/t/ii-
cal Transactions., (p. 149 of this volume), I have shewm
the mechanism ol a new pyrometer, and experiments made
therewith ; whereby it appears, that, upon the principle of
contact, a 24,000tli part of an inch is a very definite quan-
tity. I remember very well that I did not then go to the
extent of what I might have asserted, being willing to keep
witliin the bounds of credibility ; but on occasion of the
present subject, I have re-examined this instrument, and
find myself very well authorised to say, that a 60,000lhpart
of an inch, with such an instrument, is a more definite and
certain quantity than a 4000th part of an inch is to the sight,
conditioned as above specified. The certainty of contact is,
therefore, fifteen times greater than that of vision, when
applied to the divisions of an instrument: and if this prin-
ciple of certainty in contact did not take place, even much
beyond the limit I have now assigned, we never should have
seen those exquisite mirrors for leflecting telescopes that
have already been produced.

These reflections apply immediately to my present sub-
ject, as Hindley's method of division proceeds wholly by
contact, and that of the firmest kind ; tliere being scarcely
need of magnifying glasses in any part of the operation.

In the year 1748, I came to settle in London ; and the first
employment I met witn was that of making |ihilosophical in-
struments and apparatus. In this situation, my friend Hind-
ley, from a principle the reverse of jealousy, fully commu-
nicated to me, by letter, hi-> method of division ; and though
I was enjoined secrecy respecting others, (for the reasons
already mentioned), yet the communication was expressly
made with an intention that I might apply it to my own
purposes.

The following are extracts from two letters, which con-
tain the whole of what related to this subject; and since I
have many things to observe thereon, so that the puraphiuse
5 L 2

820

GRADUATION.

would be mvich p;rcatcr than the text, I think it best not to
inlcnupt tlie description with any eoninKiilai')',as pctliaps
his own mode oi' expression will more britily and happily
convey the general idea of the work, than any I can use in-
stead ol' it.

" My Dear Friend, "York, 14th Nov, 1748. ^

" As to -what you was mentioning about my brolher's
knowing how I divided my ensjine plate, I will describe it
as well as I can myself; but you will want a good many
things to go through with it. The manner is this: first
choose the largest number you want, and then choose a
long plate of thin brass ; mine was about one inch in breadth,
arid eight feet in length, which I bent like a hoop for a
hogshead, and soldered the ends together, and turned it of
equal thickness, upon a block of smooth-grained wood, up-
on my great lathe in the air, (that is, upon the end of the
mandrel); one side of the hoop must be rather wider than
the other, that it may fit the better to the
Idock, which will be a short piece of a cone
of a large diameter : when the hoop was
turned, I took it off, cut, and opened it
straight again.

The next step was, to have a piece of
steel bended into the form as per margin :
which had two small holes bored in it, of
equal bigness, one to receive a small pin,
and the other a drill of equal size. I
ground the holes after they were harden-
ed, to make them round and smooth. The
chaps formed by this steel plate were as
near together as just to let the long plate
through. Being open at one end, the chaps
so formed would spring a little, and would
press the long plate close, by setting in the
vice. Then I put the long plate to a right
angle to the length of the steel chaps, and
bored one hole through the long plate, into which I put the
small pin; then bored through the other hole ; and by
moving the steel chaps a hole forward, and putting in the
pin in the last hole, I proceeded till 1 had divided the
whole length of the plate.

The next thing was, to make this into a circle again.
After the plate was cut oft' at the end of the intended
number, 1 then proceeded to join the ends, which I did
thus : 1 bored two narrow short brass plates, as 1 did the
long one, and put one on the inside, and the other on the
outside of the hoop, wliose ends were brought together ;
and put two or three turned screw pins, with flat head and
nuts to them, into each end, which held them together till
I rivetted two little plates, one on each side of the narrow
plate, on the outside of the hoop. Then I took out the
screws, and turned my block down, till the hoop would fit
close on ; and by that means my right line was made into
an equal divided circle of what number I pleased.

The engnie plate was fixed on the face of the block,
with a steel hole fixed before it, to bore through ; and I
had a point that would fall into the holes of the divided
hoop; so by cutting shorter, and turning the block less,
1 got all the numbers on my plate.

I need not tell you, that jou get as many prime num.
I)ers as you please ; nor that the distance of the holes in
the steel chaps must be proportioned to the length of the
lioop.

You mav ask my brother what he knows about my
method of dividing; but need not tell him what I have
said about it ; for I think neither he nor John Smith knows
so much as I have told you, though 1 believe they got
some knowledge of it in general terms. I desire you to

keep the method of dividing to yourself, and cencludc
with my best wishes. And am, dear sir, yours. Sec.

He.nhy Hindi.ev.

Though the above letter was in itself very clear and
explicit as to the general traces of the method, yet some
doubts occurring to me, a farther explanation became ne-
cessary. A copy of my letter not being preserved, the
imrport of it may be inferred from the answer, wliich was
as follows :

Dear Friend, York, \3th March, 1748-9.

I think, in your last, you seem to be ap-
prehensive of some difficulties in drilling the hoop for
dividing : I'irst, that the cetitre of the hole in the hoop
might not be precisely in the centre of the hole of the
steel chaps it was drilled in ; but if I described fully to
you the method I used, I can see no danger of error there;
for my chaps were very thick, and the two corresponding
holes were a little conical, and ground with a steel pin ;
first one pair, and then the other, alternately, till the pin
would go the same depth into each. Then, for drilling
the hoop, I took any common drill that would pass through
and bore the hole. After that I took a five-sided broach,
which opened the hole in the brass betwixt the steel chaps,
but would not touch the steel ; so, consequently, the cen-
tre of the holes in the brass must be concentric with the
holes in the chaps ; and for alterations by air, lieat, cold,
&c. I was not above two or three hours in drilling a row
of holes, as far as I remember.

2clli/, For drilling, in a right line, I had a thin brass
plate, fastened between the steel chaps, for the edge of
the hoop to bear against, whilst I thrust it forward from
hole to hole. What you propose, of an iron frame with a
lead outside, will be belter than my wooden block ; but
considering the little time that past betwixt transferring
the divisions of the hoop to the divisions of my dividing
plate, I did not suffer much that wajv It was when I
drilled the holes in my dividing plate that I used a frame
for drilling, which had one part of it thathad a steel hole;
that, in lying upon the plane of the dividing plate, was fix-
ed fast in its place for the point of the drill to pass through ;
then, at the length of the drill, there was another piece of
steel, with a hole in it, to receive the other end of the drill,
to keep it at light angles to the plane of the plate. This
piece was a spring, which bended at the end, where it was
fastened to the frame of the lathe, at about 18 inches from
the end of the drill ; so it pushed the drill through with
any given force the drill would bear; and though that end
of tho drill moved in the arch of a circle, it was a very
small part of it, being no more than equal to the thickness
of the dividing plate. INIy good wishes. Conclude mc
yours, Hen. Hixdley.

Nothing ever surpassed in originality the method de-
scribed in the above letters, which is in tio respect like
any other.' There is not a tool employed in it, except the
lathe, but what may either be found in the shop of the most
common worker in metals, or made by him. It is, how-
ever, like Hook's and Roemer's, a system of uncontrouled
stepping ; and, like theirs, if only applied to an arc, would
have ended in the same uncertainty ; but being extended to
the whole circle, it secures the intended number of divi-
sions, and closes without a remainder,,which is what theirs
never could have done.

To avoid errors occasioned by expansion, which Hindley
seems not to have been aware of, Smeaton recommends
that the work should be done when the air is of a mode-
rate temperature ; and that, to pi event the materials from

GRADUATION.

821

bclnp; heated, it slioiild be carried on at short intervals ;
but his chiti' improvciiieiit was directed to correct the
effect of loni^ continued steppins;;. Mr Snieaton would
divide his circle into 1440 paits, or quarters of a degree.
To effect the correction last mentioned, two pieces of brass
must be provided, in every respect like that which is to
be the hoop, except that they need not be longer than is
required to contain 30° ; these pieces, which are called
straps, he would drill in the manner that Ilindlcy pre-
scribes, and it should be mentioned, that the first hole in
each must be nuide in a short piece of hardened steel,
which in the first instance had been soldered to the etids
of the straps. For the purpose of obtaining tlie total
length, the straps are drilled from end to end ; but no more
than the first, middle, and last holes are used. The zero
hole being made in the long, or hoop-piece, the middle
lioles of the straps are to be pinned to it on opposite aides,
and the steel pieces directed forwards ; the three pieces
extended in a right line are to be pressed together, and
the 60th hole in the hoop-piece bored coincident with those
of the straps. The straps are now taken off, and the 59
intermediate holes drilled by means of the chaps only.
Again, the extreme holes of the straps are to be pinned
to the zero holes of the hoop-piece, and arranged as be-
fore, when the 120th hole of the latter is to be bored
agreeable to the steel holes in the former ; and recourse
again had to the chaps for the next 59 holes. As the pro-
cess described above fills up as much of the hoop-piece
as is equal to 30°, eleven similar double operations will
complete the whole length ; and, as Smeaton observes,
produce 12 master checks, and 12 subordinate ones. The
next thing to be done is, to fasten the ends of the long
jnece together, so as to form it into a hoop, by pressing it
upon the edge of a chock-, as directed by Hindley.

Farther than this, Smeaton's paper cannot be consider-
ed as describing an original method of graduation, the
remainder being directed to the forming it into an engine,
of which, in its proper place, we declined giving a descrip-
tion, and here it would be inapplicable. We may however
observe, that Smeaton has improved upon Hindley in
every part, with his usual ingenuity and ability ; and pro-
vided the foundation were good, so would be the super-
structure. Smeaton was no advocate for large astrono-
mical instruments, and therefore would have an engine
constructed of sufficient magnitude to graduate any that
ought to be made.

Mr Smeaton's paper was not well received by the in-
strument makers; but he prrficted, that when half a cen-
tury had woiii off the prejudice against it, the method
would be adopted and improved to the advantage of astro-
nomy. But as Mr Troughton, in a paper to be noticed
hereafter, ventures to make a quite contrary prediction
concerning it, and gives his reasons for it, we decline en-
tering into tlie question.

Considering the celebrity of Mr Ramsden, his long
career and extensive practice in making instruments that
required the nicest graduation, we have in this depart-
ment of our article comparatively little to say of him. Ex-
cepting the descriptions of his engines, we believe he never
wrote upon the subject ; nor has any one else, so far as we
know, described how he proceeded. Troughton has indeed
pointed out the manner in which he adjusted erroneous
dots to their places; a practice which it is said was sug-
gested to Ramsden by the adjustable waxed pieces of the
Due de Chaulncs. A pupil of Ramsden informs us, that
in an early part of his practice he had used the scale of
equal parts, agreeably to the manner of Bird, but that he

soon abandoned it ; and that he had often varied his appa-
ratus and method. At what lime the method gf coaxing,
as it is called, was first applied in the works of Ramsdeti,
is perhaps known to no one exce])t Mr Berge : this artist,
who at his death succeeded him, had long been his able
and indefatigalile assistant, and in the graduation of in-
struments had honoured the name of his employer,

"By patient touches of'umvcariccl art,"

That the coaxing could not have been in practice so
early as the time when the dividing engine was made,
may be inferred from the circumstance, that the descriij-
tion of the engine was given in upon oath, and nothing said
about it.

For many years previous to the publication of the fol-
lowing method by Troughton, the art of graduation had
been carried on in secrecy and silence ; every artist had,
or pretended to have a method of his own, of which astro-
nomers could only judge, perhaps indeed the best way, by
the comparative exactness of the work that came from
their hands. Mr Troughton's paper was read to the Royal
Society in February 1809, and appeared in the first part
of the volume of the f/iil. Trans, for that year.* It con-
tains not only an account of a method invented by himself,
and which he had successfully practised for many years,
but also remarks upon other methods, which had been, or
were then in use. To abridge this woik, after giving
Birds's at length, is what we will not attempt; for we
think our readers may not be displeased to see Tioughton's
ideas upon the subject in general, expressed in his own
way ; we therefore give the wliole, notwithstanding a few
repetitions, that will thus be introduced into our article.

" It would ill become me, in addressing myself to the
members of this Society upon a subject which they are so
well enabled to appreciate, to arrogate to myself more than
may be assigned as my due, for whatever of success may
have been the result of my long continued endeavours, ex-
erted in prosecuting towards perfection t/ie dividing of in-
struments immediately subservient to the pur/ioses of astro-
nomy. A man very naturally will set a value upon a thing
on which so much of his life has been expended ; and I
shall readily, therefore, be pardoned for saying, that, con-
sidering some attainments whicli I have made on this sub-
ject as too valuable to be lost, and being encouraged, also,
by the degree of attention which the Royal Society has
ever paid to practical subjects, I feel myself ambitious of
presenting them to the public through what I deem the
most respectable channel in the world.

It was as early as the year 17"5, being then apprentice
to my brother, the late Mr John Troughtofi, that the art of
dividing had become interesting to me ; the study of astro-
nomy was also new and fascinating ; and I then formed the
resolution to aim at the nicer pans of my profession.

At the time alluded to, my brother, in the art of dividing,
was justly considered the rival of Ramsden; but he was
then almost unknown beyond the narrow circle of the ma-
thematical and optical instrument-makers, for whom he was
chiefly occupied in the division, by hand, of small astro-
nomical quadrants, and Hadky's sextants of large radius.
Notwithstanding my own employment at that time was of
a much inferior nature, yet I closely inspected his work,
and tried, at leisure hours, on waste materials, to imitate
it. With as steady a hand, and as good an eye as young
men generally have, I was much disappointed at finding,
that, after having made two points, neat and small, to my

* The Royal Society voted to Mr Troughton the jold medal on Sir Godfrey Conley's Donation, for his valuable Paper. — ^Ed.

822

GRAJ)UAT10N.

likinc;, I could not Insect the distance between them, with-
ovii eiilarg-j)g, displacinj^, or ckroiniing iheiii with the points
oCthe tonipabses. This ciicumstance gave me an early dis-
like to the tools then in use ; and occasioned nie the more
uneasiness, as I foresaw, that it was an evil which no prac-
tice, care, or habit, could entirely cure; — beam compasses,
spring dividers, and a scale of ecjual parts, in short, appear-
ed to me little better than so many sources of mischief.

I had already acquired a good share of dexterity as a
general workman. Of the dilVcrent branches of our art,
that oiturnintf alone seemed to me to border on perfection.
This juvenile coticeit, fallacious as I afterwards found it,
furnished the first train of thoughts which led to the me-
thod about to be described ; for it occurred to me, that if I
could, by any means, apply the principle of turning to the
art of dividing instruments, the tools liable to objection
might be dispensed with. The means of doing this were
first suggested by seeing the action of the perambulator,
or measuring wheel ; the surface of the Earth presenting
itself as the edge of the instrument to be divided, and the
wheel of the perambulator as a narrow roller acting on that
edge ; atid hence aiose an idea, that some easy contrivance
might be devised, for marking ofT the revolutions atid
parts of the roller upon the instrument. Since the year
above-mentioned, several peisons have proposed to me, as
new, diving by the roller, and I have been told, that it also
occurred long ago to Hook, Sisson, and others; but, as
Hatton on watch-making says, " I do not consider the man
an inventor, who merely thinks of a thing. To be an in-
venlor, in my opinion, he must act successfully upon the
thought, so as to make it useful." I had no occasion, how-
ever, to have made an apology for acting upon a thought,
which, unknown to me, had been previously conceived by
others ; for it will be seen in the secjuel, how little the roll-
er has to do in the result, and with what extreme caution
it is found necessary to employ it.

\V'hen a roller is properly proportioned to the radius of
the circle to be divided, and, with its edge, made a small
matter conical, to that one side may be too great, and the
other side too little, it may be adjusted so exactly, that it
mav be carried several times around the circle, without
the error of a single second ; and it acts with so much
steadiness, that it may not unaptly be considered as a wheel
and pinion of indefinitely high numbers. Yet, such is the
imperfection of the edges of the circle and roller, that,
when worked with the greatest care, the inleruieuiate

parts, on a radius of two feet, will sometimes be unequal
to the value of half a minute or more. After having found
the terminating point of a quadrant or circle so permanent,
although I was not prepared to expect peifect e()ualily
througliout, yet I was much mortified to find the crrois so
great, at least ten times as much as I expected ; wiiich
fact indicated, beyond a doubt, that if the roller is to be
trusted at all, it must only be trusted through a very short
arc. Had tiiere been any thing siipj)ery in the action,
which would have been indicated by measuring the same
part, at diflcrent times, differently, there would have been
an etid of it at once; but this not being the case in any
sensible degree, the roller becomes a useful auxiliary to
fill up short intervals, the limits of which have been cor-
rected by more certain means.*

Bird, who enjoyed the undisputed reputation of being
the most accuiaie divider of the age in which he lived,
was the first who contrived the means how to render the
usual divisions of the quadrant bisectional ; which proper-
ty, except his being unusually careful in avoiding the efi'ects
of unequal expansion from change of temperature, chiefly
distinguished his method from others who divided by hand.
This desirable object he accomplished by the use which
he made of a finely divided scale of etjual parts. The
thing aimed at was, to obtain a point upon the arc at the
highest bisectional number of divisions from 0, which in his
eight feet quadrants was 1024 — 85° 20'. The extent of
the beam compasses, with which he traced the arc upon
the limb of the instrument to be divided, being set off upon
that arc, gave the points 0" and 6j° ; which being bisected,
gave 30° more to complete the total arc. A second order
of bisections gave points at 15° distance from each other:
but that which denoted 75° was most useful. Now, from
the known length of the radius, as measured upon the
scale, the length of the chord of 10° 20' was computed,
taken off from the scale, and protracted from 75° forwards ;
and the chord of 4° 4(7, being ascertained in the same man-
ner, was set off from 90° backwards, meeting the chord of
10° 20' in the continually bisectional arc of 85° 2o'. This
point being found, the work was carried on by bisections,
and the chords, as they became small enough, were set off
beyond this point, to supply the remainder of the quad-
rantal arc. My brother, whom I mentioned before, from
mere want of a scale of equal parts upon which he could
rely, contrived the means of dividing bisectionally without
one. His method 1 will briefly state as follows, in the

• There are two thines, in the foregoing- account of the action of the roller, which have a tendency to excite surprise. The first is,
that the roller should, iii diflcrent parts of its journey round the circle, measure the latter so differently. One would not wonder, how-
ever, if in taking the measure across a ploughed field', it should be found different to a parallel measure taken upon a gravel walk; and,
in my opinion, the cases are not very dissimilar. Porosity of the metal, in one part of the circle more than in the other, must evidently
have' the same effect. Brass unhammered is alw.iys porous ; and the part which luis felt the effect of two blows, cannot be so dense as other
])arts which have felt the effect of three -, and, sliould the edge of the circle be indented by jarring turning; it would produce a visible
similitude to ploughed ground. Every workman must be sufficiently upon his guard against such a palpable source of error; yet, perhaps,
with our greatest care, we may not be able to avoid it altogether. The second is, th.it, notwithstanding tlie inequaUty above-mentioned,
the roller having reached the point upon the circle from which it set out, should perform a second, third, &c. course of revolutions, with-
out any sensible deviation from its former track. This is not, perhaps, so easily accounted for. It must be mentioned, that tlie exterior
border of the circle should be turned ro-umting, jiresenting to the roller a convex edge, the radius of curvature of which is not greater than
one-tenth of an inch. Now, were the materials perfectly inelastic and impenetrable, the roller could only touch the circle in a poiitt, and,
in passing round the circle, it could only occupy a line of contact. This, in practice, is not tlie ease ; tlie circle always marks the roller with
a broad list, and thereby shows, that there is a yielding between them to a considerable amount. The breadth of this list is not less than
<me-fiftieth of an inch ; a'nd it follows, that at least 12° of the circle's edge must be in contact at the same time ; that the two surfaces yield
to each other in depth, by a quantity equal to the rei: sin. of half that arc, or one eighteen-hundredth of an inch ; and that the circle has
always hold of the roller by nearly 1° of the edge of the latter. Whoever has examined the surfaces of metals, whicli have rolled against
each' other, must have observed t'iiat peculiar knid of indentation th.at always accompanies their .action ; and there can be no doubt, that
tlie panicles of a roller, and those of the surface on wliich it acts, which mutually indent each other, will, upon a second course begun from
the same point, indent each otliei- deeper. 'I'his is not, however, exactly the case in question ; for wliatever of fitting might have taken
place between the surfaces of our roller and circle, in the first revolution of the former, we should imagine would be obliterated by the
fifteen turns which it must repeat over fresh ground. Kxperience shews, however, as every one will find who tries the experiment with
good work, that on coming round to the point of commencement, the roller li.as the disposition to regain it?, former track ; for, were this
not the case, although tlie commensurate diameters were adjusted so exactly as to be without sensible error in one course, yet a less error
tliiiu that wlilch is so would become visible, when repeated llirougli many courses.

GRADUATION.

823

manner in wliich it would apply to dividing a mural qua-
drant. The arcs of 60° and 30° give tlie total arc as be-
fore ; and let the last arc of 30° be bisected, also the last
arc of 15°, and again the last arc of 7° 30': the two marks
next 90° will now be 82° 30' and 86° 15', conseciuently the
point sought lies between them. Bisections will serve us
no longer; but if we divide this space equally into three
parts, the most forward of the two intermediate marks will
give us 85", and if we divide the portion of the arc be-
tween this mark and 86° 15' also into three, the most back-
ward of the two marks will denote 85° 25'. Lastly, if we
divide any one of tliese last spaces into five, and set off"
one of these fifth parts backwards from 85° 25', \vc shall
have the desired point at lo24 divisions upon the arc from
0°. All the rest of the divisions which have been made in
this operation, which I have called marks, because they
should be made as f„int as possible, must be erased ; for
my brother would not suffer a mark to remain upon the
arc, to interfere with his future bisections.

Mr Smeaton, in a paper to be more particularly noticed
presently, justly remarks the want of a unity of principle in
Air Bird's method; for lie proceeds partly on the ground
of the protracted radius, and partly upon that of the com-
puted chord; which, as Smeaton observes, may or may
not agree. Bird, without doubt, used the radius and its
parts, in order to secure an exact quadrant; but Smeaton,
treating exactness in the total arc as of little value to as-
tronomy, would, in order to secure the more essential pro-
perty of equality of division, reji^'ct the radius altogether,
and proceed entirely upon liie simple principle of the com-
puted chord. The means pursued by my brother, to reach
the point which terminates the great biseclional arc, is the
only part in which it differs fron) Bird's method ; and I
thii.k it is without prejudice that I give it the preference.
It is obvious, that it is as well calculated to procure equali-
ty of division as tiie means suggested by Smeaton, at the
same time that it is equal to Bird's in secui ing the precise
measure of the total arc. It proceeds entirely upon the
principle of the protracted chord of 60° and its subdivi-
sion ; and the uncertainty which is introduced into the
work, by the sparing use which is made of subdivision by
3 and 5, is, in my opinion, likely to be much exceeded by
the errors of a divided scale,* and those of the hand and
eye in taking off the computed chords, and applying them
to the arc of the instiunient to be divided.

Ramsden's well known method of dividing by the engine
unites so much accuracy and facility, that a better can hard-
ly be wished for; and I may venture to say, that it will
never be superseded in the divisions of instruments of mo-
dcrale radii. It was well suited to the time in which it ap-
peared ; a time, when the improvements made in nau-
tical astronomy, and the gi owing commerce of our coun-
try, called for a number of reflecting instruments, which
ne\er could have been supplied, had it been necessary to
have divided them by hand ; however, as it only applies to
small instruments, it hardly conies within the subject of
this paper.

The method of Hindley, as described by Smeaton, t I
will venture to predict, will never be put in practice for
dividing astronomical instruments, however applicable it
might formerly have been for obtaining numbers for cut-

ting clockwork, for wiiich purpose it was originally intend-
ed. It consists of a train of violent operations with blunt
tools, any one of which is sufficient to stretch the mate-
rials beyond, or press them within their natural state of
rest ; and, although the whole is done by contact, the na-
ture of this contact is such, as I think ought ratlier to have
been contrasted with, than represented as being similar to,
the nature of the contact used in Snieaton's Pyrometer,
which latter is performed by the most delicate touch : and
is rejiiesentcd, I believe justly, to be sensible to the g^oijy
part of an inch. Smeaton has, however, acquitted himself
well, in describing and improving the method of his friend ;
and the world is particularly obliged to him for the histo-
rical part ol his paper, as it contains valuable information,
which perhaps no one else could have written.

The only method of dividing large instruments now
practised in London, that I know of beside my own, has
not yet, I believe, been made public. It consists in dividing
by hand with beam compasses and spring dividers, in the
usual way; with the addition of examining the work by
microscopes, and correcting it, as it proceeds, by pressing
forwards or backwards by hand, with a fine conical point,
those dots which appear erroneous; and thus adjusting
them to their proper places. The method admits of con-
siderable accuracy, provided the operator has a steady
hand and good eye ; but his work will ever be irregular
and inelegant. He must have a circular line passing
through the middle of his dots, to enable him to make
and keep them at an equal distance from the centre. The
bisectional arcs also, which cut them across, deform
them much ; and what is worse, the dots which require
correction (about two-thirds perhaps of the whole) will
become larger than the rest, and unequally so in propor-
tion to the number of attempts which have been found
necessary to adjust them. In the course of which opera-
tion, some of them grow insufferably too large, and it be-
comes necessary ^o reduce them to an equality with their
neighbours. This is done with the burnisher, and causes
a hollow in the surface, which has a very disagreeable ap-
pearance. Moreover, dots which have been burnished up
are always ill defined, and of a bad figure. Sir George
Shuckburg Evelyn, in his paper on the Equatorial, :f de-
nominates these 'doubtful or bad points ;' and (considering
the few places which he examines) they bear no inconsider-
able proportion to the whole. In my opinion, it would be
a great improvement of this method, to divide the whole
by hand at once, and afterwards to correct the whole ; for
a dot forced to its place as above, will seldom allow the
compass-point to rest in the centre of its apparent area ;
therefore other dots made from these will scarcely ever be
found m their true places. This improvement also pre-
vents the corrected dots from being injured or moved by
the future application of the compasses, no such applica-
tion being necessary.

I will now dismiss this method of dividing, with observ-
ing, that it is tedious in the extreme ; and did I not know
the contrary beyond a doubt, I should have supposed it to
have surpassed the utmost limit of human patiencc.§ When
I made my first essay at subdividing with the roller, I
used this method, according to the improvement suggest-
ed above, of correcting a few primitive points; but even

* That Bird's scale was not without considerable en'ors, will be shewn towards the end of this paper.

f Pliil. Trap.s. fni- irSS. i Pliil. Trans, for 1793,.

i At the time alluded to, 'he double microscopic micrometer was unknown to me, and 1 did not learn its use, for these purposes, till the
year ITSO, from General Kov's description of tlie huge theodolite. Previous to that time, 1 had used a frame, wliich carried a sing-le wire
very near the surface to be div.ded. This wire was moveable by a fine micrometer screw, and was viewed by a single lens inserted in the
lower cud of the tube, wliich. f ;r Ilie purpose of taking oft' the parallax, was four inches long. The greatest objection to this mode of con-
structing the apparatus is, that the wire, being necessarily exposed, is apt to gather up the dust; yet it is preferable to the one now in use,
in cases where any doubt is entertained of the accuracy of the pliure which is to receive the divisions.

824

GRVnUATION.

this was too slow for one who had too niucli to do. Per-
haps, however, had my instrunients been divided for mc
by an assistant, I mi;!;ht not liave griid;^cd to have paid
him for the h\bonr of going tlirough the whole work by
the method of adjustment ; nor have felt the neccssily of
contriving a better way.

I might now extend the account of my method of divi-
ding to a great length, by relating the alterations which
the apparatus has undergone during a long course of
years,* and the various manner of its application, before I
brought it to its present state of improvement ; but I tiiink
I may save myself this troul)lc, for truly I do not see its
use. I will, therefore, proceed immediately to a disclo-
sure of the method, as practised on a late occasion, in the
dividing of a four feet meridian circle, now the property
of Stephen Groombridge, Esq. of Blackhcath.

The surface of the circle which is to receive the divi-
sions, as well as its inner and outer edges, but especially
the latter, shall be turned in the most exact and careful
manner ; the reason for which will be better understood,
when we come to describe the mode of applying the roller:

being capable of continual bisection; but thry do not fall
in witli the ultimate divisions of the circle, which are in-
tended to be ec]ual to 5' each. '

The next thing to be cotisidered is, how to make the
roller measure the circle. As two microscopes are here
necessary, and those which I use are very simple, I will in
this place give a description of ihem. Fig. 6. is a section
of the full size, and sufliciently ex])lains their construction,
and the position of the glasses; but the micrometer pait
and manner of mounting it, are better shewn at H, in Fig.
1. and 2. The micrometer part consists of an oblong
square frame, which is soldered into a slit, cut at right an-
gles in tlie main tube; another similar piece nicely fitted
into the former, and having a small motion at right angles
to the axis of the microscope, has at one end a cylindrical
guide pin, and at the other a micrometer screw; a spring
of steel wire is also applied, as seen in the section, to pre-
vent play, by keeping the head of the micrometer in close
contact w;th the fixed frame. This head is divided into
one hundred parts, which are numbered each way to 50 ;
the use of which will be shewn hereafter. A fine wire is

and, as no projection can be admitted beyond the limb, if stretched across the moveable frame, for the purpose of bi-

the telescope, as is generally the case, be longer than the sccting fine dots. Two of these microscopes are necessa-

diameter, those parts which extend farther must be so ap- ry ; also a third, wliich need not have the divided head, and

plied, that they may be removed during the operation of must have in the moveable frame two wires crossing each

dividing. Fig. I. and 2. Plate CCLXXXIIl. represent other at an angle of about 30°; this microscope is shown

the principal parts of the apparatus; Fig. 1. showing the <Bt I, Fig. 1. In the two first micrometers, a division ot"

plan, and Fig. 2. the elevation ; in both of which the same the head is of the value of about 0".2, and the power and

letters of reference are affixed to corresponding parts, and
both are drawn to a scale of half dimensions. AA is a part
of the circle, the surface of which is seen in the plan, and
the edge is seen in the elevation. BBB is the main plate
of the apparatus, resting with its four feet a, a, a, a upon
the surface of the arc ; these feet, being screws, may be
adjusted so as to take equal shares of the weight, and then
are fastened by nuts below the plate, as shown in Fig. 2.
CC and DD are two similar plates, each attached to the
main plate, one above and the other below, by (our pillars :
and in them are centred the ends of the axis of the roller
E. F and G are two friction wheels, the latter firmly fas-
tened to B, but the former is fixed in an adjustable frame,
by means of which adjustment these wheels and the roller
E may be made to press, the former on the interior, and
the latter on the exterior edge of the circle, with an equal
and convenient force. t At the extremities of the axis of
the roller, and attached to the middle of the plates C and
D, are two bridges c, c, having a screw in each ; by means
of which an adjustment is procured for raising or lowering
the roller respecting the edge of the circle, whereby the
former, having its diameter at the upper edge about .001
of an inch greater than at the lower edge, (being, as before
described, a little conical,) it may easily be brought to the
position where it will measure the proper portion of the
circle.

Much experience and thought upon the subject have
taught me, that the roller should be equal to one sixteenth
part of the circle to be divided, or that it should revolve
once in 22° 30' ; and that the roller itself should be divided
into sixteen parts ; no matter whether with aljsolute truth,
for accuracy is not at all essential here. Each ot such di-
visions of the roller wilf correspond witii an angle upon
the circle of 1° 24' 22".5, or ^i-j-ih part of the circle. This
numljer of principal divisions'was chosen, on account of its

distinctness such, that when great care is taken, a much
greater error than to the amotmt of one of these divisions
cannot well be committed in setting the wire across the
image of a well made dot. The double eye-glass has a
motion by hand, for producing distinct vision of the wire ;
and distinct vision of the dots is procured by a similar ad-
justment of the whole microscope.

The first step towards sizing the roller, is to compute
its diameter according to the measure of the circle, and to
reduce it agreeably thereto, taking care to leave it a small
matter too large. The second step is, after having brought
the roller into its place in the plate BB, to make a mark
upon the surface of the circle near the edge, and a similar
one upon the roller, exactly opposite each other; then
carrying the apparatus forward with a steady hand, until
the roller has made sixteen revolutions. If now the mark
upon the roller, by having over-reached the one upon the
circle, shews it to be much too large, take it out of the
frame, and reduce it by turning accordingly : when, by
repeatmg this, it is found to be very near, it may be turned
about .001 of an inch smaller on the lower edge, and
so far 'its preparation is completed. The third and
last step is, the use and adaptation of the two micro-
scopes ; one of these must take its position at H in Fig.
1. viewing a small well-defined dot made for the pur-
pose on the circle ; the other, not represented in the Fi-
gure, must also be fixed to the main plate of Fig. 1. as
near to the former as possible, but viewing one of the divi-
sions on the roller. With a due attention to each micro-
scope, it will now be seen to the greatest exactness, when,
by raising or depressing the roller, its commensurate di-
ameter is found.

Fig. 3. is a representation of the apparatus for transfer-
ing the divisions of the roller to tlie circle. It cons'sts of
two slender bars, which being seen edgewise in the figure

* The full conception of the metliod had occupied my mind In the year ITTS ; but, as my brother could not be readily persu,aded to re-
linquish a branch of the business to mc in which lie liiniself excelled," it was nut until .September 1T85 that I produced iiiv first specimen,
'by dividing- an astronomical quadrant of two feet radius.

f Sufficient spring- for keeping- the roller in close and uniform contact with the edge of the circle is found in the .ipparalus, -n-ithout any
particular contrivance for tliis purpose. The bending of the pillars of the secondarv frames, and of the axis of tlie roller, chieflv siipjilles
iliis properly.

GRADUATION.

825

have only the appearance of narrow lines ; hut, when
looked at from above, they resemble the form of the letter
A. They are fastened to the main frame, as at W and Z,
by short pillars, liavins; also the off leg of the ant^le secur-
ed in the same manner; Y is a fine conical steel point for
making the dots, and X is a feeler, wliereby tlic point Y
may be pressed down with a uniform force, which force
may be adjuslcel, by bending the end of the bar just above
the point, so as to make the dots of the proper size. The
point Y yields most readily to a perpendicular action; but
is amply secured against any eccentric or lateral deviation.

Tlie apparatus, so far described, is complete for laying
our foundation, i. c. making 256 primary dots; no matter
whether with perfect truth or not, as was said respecting
the divisions of the roller ; precision in either is not to be
expected, or wished ; but it is of some importance, that
they should be all of the same size, concentric, small, and
round. They should occupy a position very near the ex-
treme border of the circle, as well to give them the great-
est radius possible, as that there should be room for the
stationary microscope and the other mechanism, which will
be described hereafter.

It must be noticed, that there is a clamp and adjusting
screw attached to the main plate of Fig. 1 ; but, as it dif-
fers in no respect from the usual contrivances for quick and
slow motion, it has been judged unnecessary to incumber
the drawing with it.

Now the roller having been adjusted with one micro-
scope H upon its proper I'ot on the circle, and the other
microscope at the first division on the roller, place the ap-
paratus of Fig. 3 so that the dotting point Y may stand
directly over the place which is designed for the beginning
of the divisions. In this position of things, let the feeler
X be pressed down, until its lower end comes into contact
•with the circle ; this will carry down the point, and make
the first impression or primary dot upon the circle ; un-
clamp the apparatus, and carry it forwards by hand, until
another division of the roller comes near the wire of the
microscope ; then clamp it, and with the screw motion
make the coincidence complete ; where again press upon
the feeler for the second dot : proceed in this manner until
the whole round is completed.

From these 256 erroneous divisions, by a certain course
of examination, and by computation, to ascertain their ab-
solute and individual errors, and to form these errors into
convenient tables, is the next part of the process, and
makes a very important branch of my method of dividing.

The apparatus must now be taken off, and the circle
mounted in the same manner as it will be in the observatory.
The two microscopes, which have divided heads, must also
be firmly fixed to the support of the instrument, on oppo-
site sides, and their wires brought to bisect the first dot, and
the one which should be 1 80° distant. Now, the micro-
scopes remaining fixed, turn the circle half round, or un-
til the first microscope coincides with the opposite dot ;
and, if the other microscope be exactly at the other dot,
itis obvious that these dots are 180° apart, or in the true
diameter of the circle ; and if they disagree, it is obvious
that half the cjuantity by which they disagree, as measured
by the divisions of the micrometer head, is the error of
the opposite division ; for the quantity measured is that by
■which the greater portion of the circle exceeds the less.
It is convenient to note these errors, + or — , as the dots
are found too forward or too backward, according to the
numbering of the degrees ; and for the purpose of distin-

guishing the -f and — errors, the heads, as mentioned be-
fore, are numbered backwards and forwards to fifty. One
of the microscopes remaining as before, remove the other
to a position at right angles: and, considering for the pre-
sent both the former dots to be true, examine the other by
them ; i. e. as before, try by tlic niicroinetcr how many divi- '
sions of the head the greater half of the semicircle exceeds
the less, and note half the quantity -\- or — , as before, and
do the same for the other semicircle. One of the micro-
meters must now be set at an angle of 45° with the other,
and the half difTerences of the two ])arts of each of the
four quadrants registered, with their respective signs.
When the circle is a vertical one, as in the present in-
stance, it is much the best to proceed so far in the exami-
nation with it in that position, for fear of any general bend-
ing or spring of the figure ; but for the examination of
smaller arcs than 45°, it will be perfectly safe, and
more convenient, to have it horizontal ; because the divid-
ing apparatus will then carry the micrometers, several per-
forations being made in the plate li for the limb to be seen
through at proper intervals. The micrometers must now
be placed at a distance of 22° 30', and the half differences
of the parts of all the arcs of 45° measured and noted as
before : thus descending by bisections to 1 1° Is', 5° 37' 30",
and 2° 48' 45". Half this last quantity is too small to allow
the micrometers to be brought near enough ; but it will
have the desired effect, if th^y ate placed at that quantity
and its half, i. e. 4° 13' 7". 5 ; in which case the examination,
instead of being made at the next, will take place at the
next division but one to that which is the subject of trial.
During the whole of the time that the examination is made,
all the dots, except the one under examination, are, for the
present, supposed to be in their true places ; and the only
thing in this most important part of the business, from first
to last, is to ascertain with the utmost care, in divisions of
the micrometer head, how much one of the parts of the
interval under examination exceeds the other, and carefully
to tabulate half of their difference.

I will suppose that every one, who attempts to divide a
large astronomical instrument, will have it eng'raved first.
Dividing is a most delicate operation, and every coarser
one should precede it. Besides, its being numbered is
particularly useful to distinguish one dot from another :
thus, in the two annexed tables of errors, (see p. 83 1 , 832.)
the side columns give significant names to every dot, in
terms of its value to the nearest tenth of a degree, and the
mistaking of one for another is rendered nearly impossible.

The foregoing examination furnishes materials for the
construction of the table of half differences, or apparent
errors*. The first line of this table consists of two varie-
ties ; i. e. the micrometers were at 180" distance for ob-
taining the numbers which fill the columns of the first and
third quadrant ; and at 90° for those of the second and
fourth quadrant. The third variety makes one line, and was
obtained with a distance of 45° : the fourth consists of two
lines, with a distance of 22" 30' : the fifth of four lines,
with a distance of 1 1° 15' : the sixth of eight lines, with a
distance of 5° 37' 3o": the seventh of sixteen lines, with a
distance of 2° 48' 45" : and the eighth and last variety, being
the remainder of the table, consists of thirty-two lines, and
was obtained with a distance of 4° 13' 7". 3.

The table of apparent errors, or half differences, just
explamed, furnishes data for computing the table of real
errors. The rule is this : let a be the real error of the
preceding dot, and b that of the following one, and c the

* If the table of real errors be computed as the work of examination proceeds, there will be no occision for this table at all ; but I think
it best not to let one part interfere with another, and therefore I examine the whole before I begin to compute
Vol. IX. PabtII. 5 M

826 GRADUATION.

annarent error, taken from the table of half tliffcienccs, of found in like manner, and completes the first line. It is

'' _ a4-A . convcnieiil to put the error ol the division 90° of each

the dot under investigation ; then is — f- c — Us real ,|uadrant at the bottom of each column, although it is the

, . . , • „ ™a„ r.-sf i,p en o'P. same as the point 0° on the foUowinir nuadrant. The line

error. But, as this simple ^''P'-" '°" ™^y "°' J^" H^f;, 46° is next (iUed up; the second exan'ple sl>ows this ; but

ncrally understood by workmen as I vn h , . t '"^'y/^f "''^.^^ Uiere is no occasion l^ dwell longer upon tins explanation ;

sarv to sav the same thnicr less concisely. 11 tnc leai 1 • . n r. r i •. n .1 ■ 1

saiy 10 S'ly 1-"^ ="" b |. „•„„ ,|^„ .,,,. hnili 4- 'o'" every one, who is at all ht for such pursuits, will think

errors of the nreccdinc: and toUowmg clols aic ooiii -t-, , . , ' , , , • 1 r n a- ■ . r 1 ■

cuois ui nil. 1'"-^ b . ,,,.,. r,v ilipipin ilif what has a ready been said fully suflicient for his purpose

or both — , take half their sum, and prelix llieielo tnc i m • . •• .1 . .1 1 j

01 uoui , laivc a , r ,i,„_,|.pr However, I will lUst mention, that there can be no dan

common sign ; but if one of them ^ +.,^"'' ^/^^^f ^" "; ge,-, in the formation of this table, of taking from a wront;

take half their difference, P''^fi^'"S;„he 's^^n of ihe^^ B ' ^^^^ ^^^^ ^_^^^^ ^^^^.^^^ ^^^ ^^ J^^ ^^^^ ^k^^^.^^ ^^^ ^J

quantity : again, if the apparent en^or o e -^^ ""^'^^ >"- ■ ^1,,^ „f i,,, „„, „„,,,,. j,.;^,,^ i^^cause they are in the

vestication has the same sign ol the quantity louncl aliove, a . •, ., ., i\ ■ . • .1 f n .

vcsiiijaiiuii .lao & f, ,. ,1,,. ,.o.j1 pri-n,-- hilt UBxt liiie to it, tic olhcrs, which intervene in the full ta-

eive to their sum the common sign tor the real eiioi , out ' . i -i-i 1 . r n ■ 1

b, , ■ . • .^.i,„;,. rV.nVvnnrp ilm >;"utii b c, uot beiiiQ; yet inserted. The last course of all is, how-

if the r sitrns are contrary, give to their diilcrcnce tnc sign ' &; . • • „•

". ' =■ r .1 i^ „„ T .,.1,1 ., f,.w pv-imnlp-- cvcr, an excepuon ; for, as the examining microscopes

of the ereater for the real error. 1 add a tew examples. 1 1 . 1 ', ,. 1 . u- . .1 1

ui iii^ givoiv,. could not be brought near enough to bisect the angle

lixamjilf 1. 2° 48' 45", recourse was had to that quantity and its half;

^ „ . . , , , .. on which account the examination is prosecuted by using

For the hrst point of the second quadrant. ^^.^^^.^ ^^ ^^^^ j.^^^ distance, as is shown in the two last

Real error of the first point of the first quad- examples.

rant . . . . . • • • • ■ • • " " When the table of real errors is constructed, the other

Real error of the first point of the third quad-^ ^ ^ ^^^,^_ although it is of no farther use, should not be thrown

""^i? ■ ■ , ■ ,r rir - . away ; for if any material mistake has been committed, it

Half sum or half difference . . . . . . — o.4 ^ill be discovered as the operation of dividing is carried

Apparent error of the dot under trial . . +12 2 ^^^^ ^^^^ .^^ ^,_.^ ^^^^ ^1^^ ^,^1^,^ ^^ apparent errors must be

Real error + ■ had recourse to ; indeed not a figure should be destroyed

Example 2. ""!!' '^e work is done.' , . ,

Respecting the angular value of the numbers in these

For the point 45" of the second quadrant. tables, it may be worth mentioi.ing that it is not of the least

Real error oi the hrst point ol the quadrant + 8.8 importance, 100 of them being comprised in one revolu-

Real error of the last point of the quadrant — 6.9 ^-^^^ ^,^ ^^^ micrometer screw ; and, in the instance before

Half difference . . . . . . . . . . +0.9 ^g^ j g ^j- tliem made no more than a second. It is not

Apparent error of the dot under trial . . — 8.9 p.-etended that one of these parts was seen beyond a doubt,

Real error 8.0 being scarcely yoyos' "^ ^" inch, much less the tenths, as

r. . . „ exhibited in the tables; but as they were visible upon the

micrometer heads, it was judged best to take them into the

Point 88°. 6, or last point, of the third quadrant. account.

Real error of the point 84° .4 of the third quad- Having now completed the two first sections of my me-

I'^n' — -'■" thod of dividing ; namely, the first, which consists of mak-

Real error of the point 2°.8 of the fourth quad- jng 256 small round dots ; and the second, in finding the

•"^nt — 2.9 errors of these dots, and forming them into a table; I come

Half sum .^11.9 now to the third and last part, which consists in using the

Apparent error of the dot under trial . . . — 4.0 erroneous dots in comparison with the tabulated errors, so

Real error — 15.9 as ultimately to make from them the true divisions.

r 4 1 A ^' ^^^" here be necessary to complete the description of

'xamji e . the remaining part of the apparatus. And, first, a little

Point 88°.6, or last, of the fourth quadrant. instrument which I denominate a subdividing sector pre-

Real error of the point 84°.4 of the fourth quad- sents itself to notice. From all that has hitherto been said,

rant — 21.6 it must have been supposed, that the roller itself will point

Real error of the point 2°.8 of the first quad- out, upon the limb of the instrument to be divided, spaces

rant —10.2 corresponding to others previously divided upon itself, as

Half sum — 15 0 was done in setting off the 256 points : but, to obviate the

Apparent error of the dot under trial . . . + 9.5 difficulty of dividing the roller with sufficient exactness.

Real error — 6.4 recourse was had to this sector : which also serves the

equally important purpose of reducing the bisectional points

It is convenient in the formation of the table of real er- to the usual division of the circle. This sector is repre-

rors, that they should be inserted in the order of the num- sented of half its dimensions by Fig. 5, Plate CCLXXXIII.

bering of the degrees on their respective quadrants; al- It is formed of thin brass, and centered upon the axis at

though their computation necessarily took place in the A, in contact with the upper surface of the roller: it is

order in which the examination was carried on, or ac- capable of being moved round by hand; but, by its fric-

cording to the arrangement in the table of apparent er- tion upon the axis, and its pressure upon the roller, it is

rors. The first dot of the first quadrant having been as- sufficiently prevented from being disturbed by accident,

sumed to be in its true place, the first of the third quad- An internal frame BB, to which the arc CC is attached,

rant will err by just half the difference found by the exa- moves freely in the outer one, and by a spring D is push-

mination ; therefore these errors are alike in both tables, ed outwards, while the screw E, the point of which touches

The real error of the first dot of the second quadrant the frame B, confines the arc to its proper radius. The

comes out in the first exam|.le; that of the fourth was arc of this sector is of about four times greater radius than

■ This is a very useful liint, applicable on many occiisions.

GRADUATION.

827

the roller, antl upon it are divided the spaces which must
be transl'erred to the instrument, as represented on a mag-
nified scale by l*"i;<. 4. Now, the angle of one of the spaces
of the circle will be measured hy sixteen times its angu-
lar value upon the sectorial arc, or 22° 30'; but this does
not represent any number of equal p:trts upon the instru-
ment, the subdivisions of which are to be 5' each ; for
JO 24' 22'',5

^^-^ is exactly 16-J, therefore so many divisions are

5
exactly equal to a mean space between the dots, the er-
i-ors of which have been tabulated. Let, therefore, the arc
of the sector be divided into 16 spaces of 1° 20' each, and
let a similar space at eacli end be subdivided into eight
parts of 10' each, as in Fig. 4; we shall then have a scyle
•which furnishes the means for making the true divisions,
and an immediate examination at every bisectional point.

I have always divided the sector fiom the engine, be-
cause that is the readiest method, and inferior to none in
point of accuracy, where the radius is very short; but, as
it is more liable than any other to centrical error, the ad-
justment of the arc by the screw E becomes necessary :
by that adjustment, albo, any undue run in the action of
the roller inay be reduced to an insensible quantity.

When the utmost degree of accuracy is required, I give
the preference to dividing by lines, because they are made
with a less forcible effort than dots are ; and also because,
if any small defect in the contexture of the metal causes
the cutter to deviate, it will, after passing the defective
part, proceed again in its proper course, and a partial
crookedness in the line will be the only consequence;
whereas a dot, under similar circumstances, would be al-
together displaced. But, on the other hand, where accu-
racy has been out of the question, and only neatness re-
quired, I have used dots ; and I have done so, because I
know that when a dot and the wire which is to bisect it are
in due proportion to each other, (the wire covering about
two-thirds of the dot,) the nicest comparison possible may
be obtained. It may be farther observed, that division by
lines is complete in itself; whereas that by dots requires
lines to distinguish their .value.

On the upper side of Fig. 1. is represented the appara-
tus for cutting the divisions. It consists of three pieces
JKL, jointed together so as to give to the cutter an easy
motion, for drawing lines directly radiating from the cen-
tre, but inflexible with respect to lateral pressure ; dd are
its handles. The cutting point is hidden below the mi-
croscope H; it is of a conical form, and were it used as a
dotting point, it would make a puncture of an elliptical
shape, the longer diameter of which would point towards
the centre. This beautiful contrivance, now well known,
we owe to the ingenuity of the late Mr Hindley of York ;
it was borrowed by Mr Ramsden,* and applied with the
best effect to his dividing engine.

It might have been mentioned sooner, that in the in-
stance which I have selected as an example of my dividing,
the operation took place when the season of the year, and
the smoke of London, had reduced the day to scarcely six
hours of effective light; and rather than confine my la-
bours within such narrow limits, I determined to shut out
the day-light altogether. Fig. 7. shows the construction
of the lanterns which I used. A very small wick gave

sufficient light, when kept from diverging by a convex
lens; while the inclining nossel was directed down exact-
ly upon the part looked at, and the light, having also pass-
ed tlu-ough a thin slice of ivory, was divested of all glare.
I enter into this description, because, I think, I never saw
my work better, nor entirely to so much advantage, as in
this instance ; owing, perhaps, to the surrounding dark-
ness allowing the pupil of the eye to keep itself more ex-
panded, than when indirect rays are suffered to enter it.
The heat from a pair of these lanterns was very inconside-
rable, and chiefly conducted along with the smoke up the
reclining chimney.

Previous to cutting the divisions, the parts now describ-
ed must be adjusted. The cutting apparatus must be plac
ed with the dividing point exactly at the place where the
first line is intended to be drawn, and clamped, so that
the adjusting screw may be able to run it through a whole
interval. The microscope H must be firmly fixed by its
two pillars 6, b to the main frame, with its micrometer
head at zero ; and with its only wire in the line of the ra-
dius, bisecting the first of the 256 dots. And it should be
observed, that the cutting frame and this must not var>'
respecting each other, during the time that the divisions
are cut ; for any motion that took place in either would go
undiminished to the account of error. The microscope I
is also fastened to the main frame ; but it is only required
to keep its position unvaried, while the divisions of the
sector pass once under its notice ; for it must have its wires
adjusted afresh to these divisions at every distinct course.
The microscope I has two wires, crossing each other at
an angle of about 40° ; and these are to be placed so as
to make equal angles with the divisions of tlie sector, which
are not dots but lines. The sectorial arc must also be ad-
justed to its proper radius by the screw E, Fig. 5.; i- e.
while the main frame has been carried along the circle
through a mean interval shewn by H, the sector must have
moved through exactly 16|ths of its divisions, as indicated
by I.t

Things being in this position ; after having given the
parts time to settle, and having also sufficiently proved the
permanence of the micrometer H and the cutting frame,
with respect to each other, the first division may be made;
then, by means of the screw for slow motion, carry the ap-
paratus forward, until the next line upon the sector comes
to the cross wires of I; you then cut another division, and
thus proceed until the 16th division is cut, —1° 20': Now,
the apparatus wants to be carried further, to the amount
of |ths of a division, before an interval is complete; but
at this last point no division is to be made ; we are here
only to compare the division on the sector with the cor-
responding dot upon the instrument. This interval, how-
ever, upon the circle, will not be exactly measured by the
corresponding line of the sector, which has been adjusted
to t!ie mean interval, for the situation of the dot 1° 4 is too
tar back, as appears by the table of real errors, by — 4.8
divisions of the micrometer head. The range of the screw
for slow motion must now be restored, the cross wires of
H set back to — 4.8 divisions, and the sector moved back
by hand, but not to the division 0, where it began before ;
for, as it left off in the first interval at ^ths of a division,
it has to go forwards |th more, before it will arrive at the

• This I learned from that most accurate artist Mr .Tohn Stancliffe, who was himself apprentice to Hindley.

+ For the sake of simplicity, the account of the process is carried on as if the roller measured the mean inten'.al without error. ^ Bm
it was said (page 822), that the roller, in a continued motion quite round the circle, would, in some jjart of its course, err by 30 ,^ or

more; therefore, when this is the case, an extreme run of the roller cannot agree with a mean interv.^1 of the circle nearer than -^=

0.23"; and most probably this kind of error will, on some inter\-als, amount to double that quantity. It, therefore, becomes matter ol
prudent precaution, to e'xamine every interval previous to making the divisions ; and, where necessary, to adjust the sector, so that its
arc may exactly measure the corresponding interval as coiTected by the tabulated errors,

5 M 3

828

GRADUATION.

spot where the 1 7th division of the instrument 1° 25' is
to be made, so that in this second course it must begin at
t.th short of 0. Go through this interval as before, mak-
ing a division upon the circle at every one of the 16 great
divisions of the sector; and H should now reach the third
dot, allowing for a tabular error of— 10.2 when the divi-
sion fths of the sector reaches the cross wires ol I. It
would be tedious to lead the reader through all the variety
of the sector, which consists of eight courses; and it may
be sullicient to observe, that at the commencement of every
course, it must be put back to the same fraction of a division
which lerniii.ated its former one ; and that the wire ol the
niicr(jmetei II must always be set to the tabular error be-
lonj^ing to every dot, when we end one interval and begin
another. The eight courses of the sector will have car-
ried us through jljd part of the circle, 11° 15', and during
this time the roller will have proceeded through hall a re-
volution; for its close contact with the limb of the circle
does not allow it to return with the sector when the latter
is set back at every course. Having in this manner pro-
ceeded, from one interval to another, throogh the whole
circle, the micrometer at last will be found with its wire at
zero, on the dot from wliich it set out ; and the sector, with
its 16lh division, coinciding with the wires of its micro-
scope.

Having now given a faithful detail of every part of the
process of dividing this circle, I wish to remind the read-
er, that, by verification and correction at every interval, any
erroneous action of the roller is prevented from extending
its influence to any distant interval. It will be farther ob-
served, that the subdividing sector magnifies the work :
that by means of its adjustable arc, it makes the run of the
roller measure its corresponding intervals upon the circle;
and, without foreign aid, furnishes the means of reducing
the bisectional intervals to the usual division of the circle.
Fanhermore, the motion of the wire of the micrometer H,
according to the division of its head and corresponding
table of errors, furnishes the means of prosecuting the work
Avith nearly the same certainty of success, as could have
happened, had the 256 points been (which in practice is
Cjuite impossible) in their true places.

Now, the whole of my metiiod of dividing being per-
formed by taking short measures with instruments which
cannot themselves err in any sensible degree, and, inas-
much as those mtasures are taken, not by the hand, but by
vision, and the whole performed by only looking at the
work, the eye must be charged with all the eri'ors that are
committed until we come to cut the divisions ; and, as in
this last operation the hand has no more to do than to guide
an apparatus so perfect in itself, that it cannot be easily
made to deviate from its proper course, I would wish to
distinguish it from the other methods, by denominating it,
dividing by the eye.*

The number of persons at all capable of dividing origin-

ally have hitherto been very few : the practice of it being
so limited, that in less than twice seven years, a man could
hardly hope to become a workman in this most dillicult art.
How far I shall be considered as having surmounted these
diHicullies, I know not; but il, by the method here reveal-
ed, I have not rendered original dividing almost equally
easy with what copying was before, I have spent mucli la-
bour, time, and thought, in vain. I have no doubt, indeed,
that any cai'eful workman who can divide in common, and
has the ability to construct an astronomical instrument,
will, by following the steps here marked out, be able to di-
vide it, the first time he tries, better than the most expe-
rienced workman, by any former method.

If, instead of subdividing with the roller, the same thing
be performed with the screw, it will not give to dividing by
the eye any very distinctive character: I have practised
this on arcs of circles with success, the edge being slightly
racked, the screw carrying forward an index with the re-
quisite apparatus, and having a divided micrometer head ;
the latter answers to the subdividing sector, and being used
with a corresponding table of errors, forms the means of
correcting the primitive points; but the roller furnishes a
more delicate action, and is by far more satisfactory and ex-
peditious.

It is known to many, that the six feet circle, which I am
now at work upon for our Royal Observatory, is to be di-
vided upon' a broad edge, or upon a surface at right angles
to the usual plane of division: the only alterations which
will on this account be required, are, that the roller must
act upon that plane which is usually divided upon; which
roller, bting elevated or depressed, may be adjusted to the
commensurate radius without being made conical, as was
necessary in the other case. The apparatus, similar to the
other, must here be fixed immovealily to the frame which
supports the circle : its position must be at the vertex,
where also I must have my station: and the instrument it-
self must be turned around its axis, in its proper vertical
position, as the work proceeds. The above may suffice,
for the present, to gratify those who feel themselves niter-
ested upon a subject, which will be better understood, if I
should hereafter have the honour of laying before the Roy-
al Society a particular description of the instrument here
alluded to; a task which I mean to undertake, when, after
being fixed in the place designed for it, which I hope will
be effected at no very distant period, it shall be found com-
pletely to answer the purposes intended. See Circle.

Siiould it be required to divide a circle according to the
centesimal division of the quadrant, as now recommended
and used in France, we shall have no difficully. Tlie 100"
of the quadrant may be conveniently subdivided into 10
each, making 4000 divisions in the whole round. The 256
bisectional intervals, the two tables of errors, and the man-
ner of proceeding and acting upon them, will be exactly
the same as before, until we come to cut the divisions ; and

• I must here remark, tliat Smeaton has represented the gi-eatest degree of accuracy that can be derived from vision, in judging of the
coincidence of two lines, at ^jVoth p^rt of an inch. From tliis it may fairly be inferred, that he had not cultivated the power of the sight,
as he had done that of the touch; the latter of which, with that ability which appeared in all his works, he rendered sensible to the jo Booth
part of an inch. Were materials infinitely hard, no bounds coiJd be set to the precision of contact ; but taking things as the)' are, the dif-
ferent degrees of hardness in matter may be considered as a kind of magnifying power to the touch, wliicli may not unaptly be compared
with the assislance which the eye receives from glasses. It >s now quite common to divide die seaman's sextant to 10", and a good eye will
estimate the half of it ; which, on an eight-inch radius, is scarcely Toi5<roth of an inch. This quantity, small as it is, is rendered visible bv a
glass of one inch focal length ; and such is the certainty with wliich these quantities are seen, iliat a seaman will sometimes complain that two
pair of these lines will coincide at the same time ; and this may happen, and yet no division of his instrument err, bv more than 2B Boodi
part of an inch. All this is appUcable to judging of the coincidence of lines with each other, and furnishes not the niost favourable display
of the accuracy oC vision. But with the microscopes here described, where Uie wire bisects the image of a dot, or u cross wire is made to in-
tersect the image oi a line, by an eye practised in such matters, a coincidence may undoubtedly be ascertained to j oBB o'h part of an inch.
I am of opinion, that as small a quantity may be rendered visible to the eye, as can by contact be made sensible to the touch ; but whether
Mr Smeaton's 55 o jg^ and my 50^5 be not the same thing, I wUI not determine ; the difference between them, however, is what he woidd
no more have pretended to feel, than I dare pretend to see.

GRADUATION.

829

for this purpose we must have another line; divided upon
the sector. For -joW'' P*"' ^^ ^^^ circle being equal to

1° 24' 22" 5 . .

S'.4 of the usual angular measure 3; 15| divi-
sions ; and just so many will be equivalent to one of the in-
tervals of the circle. The value of one of the great divi-
sions of the sector will be 1° 26' 24", and that of the ^th
pails, which are to be annexed to the right and left as be-
fore, win be 10' 48", therefore divisiijle by the engine.
Should any astronomer choose to have both graduations
upon his instrument, the additional cost will be a mere
trifle, provided both were done at the same time.

It must already have been anticipated, that dividing by
the eye is equally applicable to straight lines as it is to cir-
cles. An apparatus for this purpose should consist of a bar
of brass, three quarters of an inch thick, and not less than
three inches broad ; six feet may do very well for the
length ; it may be laid upon a deal plank strengthened by
another plank screwed edge-wise on its lower surface. The
bar should be planed on both its edges and on its surface,
with the greatest exactness; and it will be better if it has
a narrow slip of silver, inlaid through its whole length, for
receiving the dots. An apparatus nearly similar to the
other Should slide along its surface, carrying a roller, the
circumference of which is 12.8 inches, and turned a little
conical for the sake of adjustment. The roller may be di-
vide<l into 32 parts, each of which, when transferred to the
bar, will give intervals of 0 4 of an inch each : the angle of
the subdividing sector should of course be 11" Is' and sub-
divided into four parts, which will divide the inch into
tenths : the surface may also receive other lines, with sub-
divisions suited to the different purposes for which it may
be wanted. The revolutions of the roller and its j>j parts
must be dotted upon the bar ; taking care, by sizing the
roller, to come as near the true standard measure as possi-
ble : when this is done, compare the extent of the greater
bisectional number that is contained in the length, i. e. 128
intervals or 5 1.2 inches, with the standard measure ; noting
the difference as indicated by the micrometer heads: the
examination and construction of the table of errors may
then be conducted just as was done for the circle.

Being now ready for the performance of its work, the
scale to be divitled must be laid alongside of the bar, and
the true divisions must be cut upon it by an appeal, as be-
fore, to the erroneous dots on the bar, corrected by a cor-
responding table of errors. The apparatus, remaining en-
tire in the possession of the workman, with its primitive
dots, the table of errors, Sec. is ready for dividing another
standard, which will be precisely similar to others that have
been, or may be divided from it. ]t may be considered, in-
I deed, as a kind of engine ; and, as it is not vitiated by the
V coarse operation of racking with a screw, but performed by
only looking at the work, the method will command about
three times the accuracy that can be derived from the usual
straight-line dividing engine. Should it be asked, if an
engine thus appointed would succeed for dividing circles?
I answer. Yes : but I would not recommend it ; because, be-
yond a certain extent of radius, it is not necessary ; for the
errors, which would be introduced into the work by the
violence of racking a large wheel, are sufficiently reduced
by the comparative shortness of the radius of such instru-
rnents as we divide by that method : and, what is still more
to the purpose, the dividing engine is fou*'. times more ex-
peditious, and bears rough usage better. I cannot quit the
subject of dividing straight lines without observing, that I
never had my apparatus complete. The standard which I
made for Sir George Shuckburgh Evelyn in 1796, was done

by a mere make-shift contrivance, upon the principle of di-
viding by the eye ; how I succeeded, may be seen in Sir
George's papers on Weights and Measures, in the Pint.
Trans, for 1798. I made a second, some years after, for
Professor Pictet of Geneva, which became the subject of
comparison with the new measure of France, before the
National Institute ; and their report, drawn up by Mr
Pictet, has been ably re-stated and corrected by Dr Young,
as published in the Journals of the Royal Institution. I
made a third for the magislrales of yVberdeen. I notice
the two latter, principally to give myself an opportunity of
saying, that, if those three scales were to be compared to-
gether, notwithstanding they were divided at distant periods
of time, and at different seasons of the year, they would be
found to agree with each other as nearly as the different
parts of the same scale agree.

I hope I may here be allowed to allude to an inadvertency
which has been committed in the paper mentioned^above ;
and which Sir George intended to have coi reeled, had he
lived to conclude his useful endeavours to harmonize the
discordant weights and measures of this country. The in-
struments which he has brought into comparison are, his
own five feet standard measure and equatorial ; General
Roy's forty-two inch scale; the standard of Mr Aubert;
and that of the Royal Society. The inadvertency is this;
in his equatorial, and the standard of the Royal Society, he
has charged the error of the most erroneous extent, when
compared with the mean extent, alike to both divisions ; i,
e. he has supposed one of the divisions, which bound the
erroneous extent, to be too much to the right, and the other
too much to the left, and that by equal quantities. This is
certainly a good-natured way of stating the errors of work;
and perhaps not unjustly so, where the worst part has been
selected ; but in the other three instances, namely, in Gene-
ral Roy's, Mr Aubert's, and his own standards, he has
charged the whole error of the most erroneous extent to
one of the bounding lines.

I was well confirmed in my high opinion of the general
accuracy of Bird's dividing, when, last winter,* 1 measured
the chords of many arcs of the Greenwich quadrant. Thut
instrument has indeed suffered, both from a change in its
figure, and from the wearing of its centre ; but the gradua-
tion, considering the time when it was done, I found to be
very good. Sir George, in his paper upon the equatorial,
{Phil. Trans, for 179 3,) after some compliments paid to the
divider of his instrument, says, " the late Mr John Bird
seems to have admitted a probable discrepancy in the divi-
sions of his eight feet quadrant, amounting to 3" ;" and he
refers to Bird on the construction of the Greenwich quad-
rant. This quantity being three times as great as any er-
rors that I met with, I was lately induced to inquire how
the matter stood. Bird, in the paper referred to, says, " in
dividing this instrument, I never met with an equalitv that
exceeded one second. I will suppose, that in the PO arch
this error lay towards the left hand, and in the 96 srch that
it lay towards the right, it will cause a difference between
the two arches of two seconds ; and, if an e.ror of one
second be allowed to the observer in reading off his obser-
vation, the whole amount is no more than three seconds,
which is agreeable to what I have heard. Sec." Sir George's
examination of his own equaioiial furnishes me with the
means of a direct comparison : in his account of the de-
clination circle, we find an error .^2". 35, and another

l".5 ; to these add an error of half a second in each, for

reading off, which Sir George also admits, we shall then
have a discrepancy of 4". 85 ; but, as the errors of reading
off are not errors of division, let them be discharged from

• This paper was written in June 1808.

830

GRADUATION.

both, and the errors will then stand for the quadrant 2", and
for the circle 3". 85. As the radius of the former, however,
is four times greater than that of t!>e latter, it will appear,
by this mode of trial, that the equatorial is rather more
than twice as accurately divided as the quadrant. In doing
justice to Bird in this instance, I have only done as I would
be done by : for, should any future writer set me back a
century on the chronological scale of progressive improve-
ment, I hope some one will be found to restore me to my
proper niche. 1 now subjoin a restatement of the greatest
error of each of the instruments that arc brought into com-
parison by Sir George, after having reduced, them all by
one rule, viz. allowing each of the two points which bound
the most erroneous extent, to divide the apparent error
equally between them. They are expressed in parts of an
inch, and follow each other in the order of their accuracy.

Sir George Shuckburgh's 5 feet standard .000165

General Roy's scale of 42 inches .000240

Sir George's equatorial, 2 feet radius .000273

The Greenwich quadrant, 3 feet radius .000455

Mr Aubert's standard, 5 feet long .000700

•The Royal Society's standard, 92 inches long .000795

For the justness of the above statement, I consider my
name is pledged ; requesting the permission to say, that if,
on the result of each respective examination, as here pre-
sented, there could have been more than one opinion, it
^¥ould not have appeared here. I am farther prompted to
add, that the above comparative view presents one circum-
stance to our notice, which cannot do less than gratify eve-
ry individual, who is at all conversant in these matters ; I
mean, the high rank which General Roy's scale takes in
the list ; that scale having been made the agent in measur-
ing the base line of our national trigonometrical survey.

To return, finally, to the dividing of circles ; I must
state, as matter of precaution, that great care should be
taken during the turning of the outer edge, to have the
circle of the same temperature ; for one part may be ex-
panded by heat, or contracted by cold, so much more than
another, as to cause the numbers in the tables of errors to
be inconveniently large. A night is not more than sufficient
for allowing the whole to take the same temperature, after
having been handled by the workmen ; and the finishing
touch should be given within a short space of time. But,
if the effects of temperature are to be regarded in turning
a circle, it is of tenfold more importance to attend to this
circumstance, while the examination of the larger arcs of
the instrument is carried on ; for it is absolutely necessary,
that, during this time, the whole circle should be of the
same heat exactly. Few workmen are sufficiently aware
of this. They generally suppose the expansion of metals
to be a trifle, which need not be regarded in practice; and
■wonder how the parts of a circle can be diflferently heated,
withou taking pains to make it so. One degree of Faren-
heit's thermometer indicates so small a portion of heat,
that, in such places as workmen are usually obliged to do
their business in, it is not very easy to have three thermo-
meters attached to different parts of a large instrument.

showing an equality of temperature within that quantity :
Yet so necessary is correctness in this respect, that if a cir-
cle hcis the vertex one degree warmer than its opposite,
and if this difi'erence of temperature be regularly distri-
buted from top to bottom, the upper semicircle will actual-
ly exceed the lower by 2": And, if such should happen to
be the case while the examination of the first dot of the
third quadrant is made, the regularity of the whole opera-
tion would thereby be destroyed.

It may not be improper to remark> that dividing by the
eye does not require a more expensive apparatus than the
operation of dividing by hand; and, indeed, less so when
the scale of inches is ilecmed necessary. The method by
adjustment is still more expensive, requiring whatever
tools Bird's method requires, and, in addition to these, a
frame and microscopes, somewhat similar to those for di-
viding by the eye.

It is somewhat more difficult to give a comparative esti-
mate of the time, which the different methods of dividing
require. I know, that thirteen days of eight hours each
are well employed in dividing such a circle by my method;
about 52 days would be consumed in doing the same thing
by Bird's method ; and 1 think I cannot err much, when
I state the method by adjustment, supposing every dot to
be tried, and that two thirds of them want adjusting, to re-
quire about 150 of such days.

The economy of time, (setting aside the decided means
of accuracy,) which the above estimate of its application
offers to view, will, I think, be considered of no little mo-
ment. By the rising artist, who may aspire to excellence,
it will at least, and 1 should hope with gratitude, be felt in
the abbreviation of his labours. To me, indeed, the means
of effecting this became indispensible ; and it has not been
without a sufficient sense of its necessity, that I have been
urged to the progressive improvement and completion of
these means, as now described. It is but little that a man
can perform with his own hands alone ; nor is it on all oc-
casions, even in frames of firmer texture than my own, that
he can decisively command their adequate, unerring use.
And I must confess, that I never could reconcile it to what
I hold as due to myself, as well as to a solicitous regard
for the most accurate cultivation of the science of astro-
nomy, to commit to others an operation requiring such
various and delicate attentions, as the division of my instru-
ments.

That my attentions on this head have not failed to procure
for me the notice and patronage of men, whose approba-
tion makes, with me, no inconsiderable part of my reward,
I have to reflect on with gratitude and pleasure : and as I
look with confidence to the continuance of that patronage,
so long as the powers of exec».tion shall give me the in-
clination to solicit it, I cannot entertain a motive, which
might go to extinguish the more liberal wish of pointing
out to future ingenuity a shorter road to eminence ; suf-
ficiently gratified by the idea of having, in the present com-
munication, contribu'^d to facilitate the operations, and to
aid the progress of art, (as far as the limited powers of vi-
sion will admit,) toward the point of perfection."

• This is the same which Mr Bird used in dividing his eight feet mural quadrants, and was presented to the Royal Society by Bird's
executors.

GRADUATION.

Table of ciptmrenl Errors.

831

.N;.nie of
the Dut.

I'irst
quadrant

buXlMcd
Quadrant.

Tliird
Quadrant.

Kourlli
Quadrant.

l-'irst
Quadrant.

Second
Quadrant,

Third
Quadrant.

Fourth
Quadrant.

Name of
the Dot.

o°.o

+ 12.2

—6.9

+ 17.9

+ 4.6

+ 17.1

— 4.4

+ 17.3

r.4

45.0

—21.3

—8.9

16.7

— 29.6

—5.2

—9.7

8.9

—6,4

4.2

22.5

1.6

2.2

1.0

2.7

0.0

3,8

1.0

4.7

7.0

67.5

+ 1.0

+ 15.6

0.0

+ 13.7

+ 1.0

+ 3.5

5.1

5.5

9.8

11.2

— 16.6

—20.2

22.6

—30.3

— 5.5

— 1.6

0.0

+ 1.2

12.7

33.7

4.2

13,2

23.1

7.6

4.2

—2.3

15.5

55.2

16 9

22.2

17,0

22.7

9.4

3,9

0.0

5.3

18.3

78 7

30.8

16.6

31 3

30 3

+ 1.1

+ 12.1

+4.2

+ 4.3

21.1

5.6

2.7

8.6

4.1

10.1

12.3

0.9

6.2

14.4

23.9

16.y

11.5

11.3

U.2

16.1

—5.7

6.2

1.1

— 11.2

26.7

28.1

9.0

7.4

5.8

14.3

+ 1.5

3.5

—6.3

4.2

29.5

39.4

9.3

8.2

5.8

13.1

0.0

7.0

7,7

+ 1.4

32.3

50.6

4.2

6.6

8.2

4,4

1.5

+9,0

+ 30

4.3

35,2

61.9

8.4

12.5

4.4

—86

—5,9

—2.0

—5,7

38.0

7,3.1

7.6

10.0

13.6

9,7

3.3

+ 2.7

4,9

1.5

40,8

84.4

18.0

+ 6.0

163

7.1

+ 4.0

3.1

3.5

+ 1.0

43,6

2.8

3 4

—7.5

8.9

2.1

135

10.5

+ 16,0

14.9

46.4

8.4

0.0

5.0

4.6

5.7

2.1

0.0

1,7

—3,5

49.2

14 1

6.6

8 2

5.6

—5,0

— 10,7

—2.9

52.0

19 7

1.6

2.4

+ 1,0

2.5

4,2

7,9

2,2

7.2

54.8

25.3

3.7

8,2

—2,9

2.5

4.0

3.0

2.5

1.0

57.7

30.9

+ 2.4

7.1

7.0

0.0

7.3

+ 6.2

6,1

1.5

60,5

36.6

— 5.9

+ 1,0

2.5

1.5

— 10 1

5 6

12.7

63 '^
66.1

42.2

+ 3.1

1.9

5.8

+ 2.5

1.4

7.2

+ 2.2

68,9

47.8

7.1

5.2

+ 2.4

4 8

+ 11.2

+ 149

+ 21.2

7.2

53.4

—5 6

—6,0

—5.0

—6.1

—7.1

— 10

<5.9

— 11.7

71.1

59.1

10.7

+ 1.0

3.0

+ 1.4

5 3

6 6

2.7

74.5

9.9

+ 1.0

5.9

77.3

64 7

7.9

— 18.0

107

—9.0

7'-

70,3

2,7

7.4

1.5

9.0

~ 6.5

5.3

2.6

80.2

75. 9

1.2

5.2

2,2

4.7

+ 4.4

+ 1-4

—2,2

4,3

830

81.6

1.6

+ 17

0.0

2.0

—20.8

—0.0

11.4

+ 1.0

85.8

87.2

13.7_

6.0

3.5

+ 5.6

+ 2.1

-f 1 i .0

4.0

9.5

88.6

832

GRADUATION.

Table of real Errora.

Name of
the Dot.

Firsf.
Quadi-ant.

Second
Quadrant.

Third

Quadrant.

Fourth
Quadrant

First
•.juadrant.

.Second
Quadrant

Third
Quadrant.

Fourth
Qtiadrant.

Name of
the Dot.

C.G

0.0

+ 8 8

— 69

+ 14.4

— 16.9

— 8.0

— 5 3.4

— 22.4

45^0

1.4

—4.8

— 06

16.0

5.9

8.7

5.5

9.7

16.1

46 4

2.8

10.2

9 3

24.0

— 2.9

14.3

9.6

17.4

22,3

47 8

4.2

13 8

15.1

38.3

12 8

22.3

17.9

19.9

33.8

49 2

5.6

13.7

12.5

23,3

16.1

26.0

21 6

26 7

31.9

50 6

r.o

15.9

16.8

28. 7

19.4

25.5

26.0

23 6

28.9

52.0

8.4

17.6

19.6

32,0

27.0
30.7

32(i

27.8

30.3

38.3

53 4

9.8

21.4

16.1

355

34.0

27.3

29.1

352

54.8

11.2

21.6

16.7

31.5

26.5

26.8

22.1

24 0

32 6

56.2

12 7

27.9

21 6

32 2

28.6

29.6

24 5

29.7

29 8

57.7

U.I

31.1

26.8

37.5

34.4

33.7

17.7

27.2

24.6

59,1

15.5

28.5

22.7

30 2

26.8

30,2

15.6

29.3

26.5

60.5

16.9

27.3

20 5

32.4

32 7

19.2

15.3

24.1

19.4

61.9

IB 3

29.9

182

242

25 7

21.5

14.6

18 8

23.7

63 3

19.7

20.2

13.5

206

22.2

19.0

21 5

22.4

17.4

64.7

21.1

22.4

5.9

22.1

24.0

18.8

199

22 8

17 1

66 1

22.5

10.0

1.8

10.9

6.7

3.0

+ 82

+ 0.7

+ 2.5

67..^

23.9

8.8

12-2

160

149

9.8

—28

— 25

— 13.0

68.9

25.3

19 8

15.5

20.2

24.0

15.7

10.2

13.7

19.2

70.3

26.7

21.7

16.1

20.0

33.0

21.9

7.0

21.8

25.8

71.7

28 1-

22.1

12.8

23.8

36.4

23.0

13.9

25.1

230

73. 1

29.5

17.1

15.8

28.9

35.0

27.1

14.3

25.3

26 8

74.5

30.9

22.1

18.0

31 4

370

26.6

20.1

26.6

30.7

75.9

32.0

24.7

19.3

33.3

37.7

333

21.1

22 7

31.1

773

3.3.7

'" 4

9.1

25.1

37.6

27.9

16,'^

23.8

29.1

78.7

35.2

22 7

8.0

25.1

35 7

35 5

14.5

18.5

28.7

80.2

36.6

27 3

11.9

27.4

41.8

2.3

9.0

22.4

27 3

816

38.0

26. 5

15.6

26.i

40 6

21.0

6.6

17.5

21.4

83.0

39.4

26.4

16.7

24.8

To-

I 27.5

5.4

21.0

216

84.4

40.8

25 4

25 1

33.6

- 0

15.4

12 6

85.8

42.0

18 5

10.4

24.7

30 2

23 0

■ 1

6.8

87.1

43 6

16.3

10.0

24.6

31 7

163

3.7

" 9

88.6

45.0

16.9

8.0

130

22.4

+ 8 8

6.9

+ 14.4

o/^

9.,'.0

GRADUATION.

833

It can hardly have escaped notice, on pevusinp; the aliove
account, how strictly Troughton has adhered to the maxim
of Graham. Beginning with bisecting the circle, he has,
by his mode ol' examination, without a change, followed
the principle through eight successive courses. The ac-
tion of the roller is stepping, notwithstanding that it con-
sists of the exactest species of contact, and closes with-
out a remainder ; and so fully is he aware of this, that 255
checks are etnployed. As far as the examination and com-
putation is carried, Troughton's method, for aught wc
know, may be as tedious as any other ; but, by the con-
trivance of combining his subdividing-sector with the roll-
er, he throws the quinquisections and trisections altogether
into a species of engine dividing, and thereby reduces the
remaining part of the work to a labour little surpassing
that of cutting the divisions.

After the above paper was published, several gentle-
men were of opinion, that the celebrity of Troughton's
graduation was owing more to the hand and eye of the
artist, than to the method by which it was effected.
Troughton, it will be remembered, in one part at least of
the paper, expresses himself of a contrary opinion ; and, to
shew that he was not mistaken, we insert the following
letter, which was addressed to him by a rising artist, who
is not too conceited to profit by the skill and experience of
a veteran in the art :

Dear Sir, " Charing-Cross, I5th July, 1813.

Having now performed the graduation of a
circle by your method, I take the liberty of addressing to
you the following lines upon the subject. The method
which was used at Mr Ramsden's was, before youi's ap-
peared, considered as the best. I learned it in the course
of instruction, and practised it with patience and perseve-
rance, for it requires much of both. I may, therefore, be
allowed to consider myself a competent judge of the two
methods ; and, without presuming more than becomes me,
give an opinion concerning them. From various motives,
I feel great pleasure in saying, that dividing by the eye is
greatly preferable to the other method ; the saving in time
is very great, and accuracy in the result certain, ^^'ilh
these properties, which it possesses in the first degree,
were I debarred from using it in future, I should return
to the old metliod with the greatest reluctance. I do not
hesitate to say, that I feel myself equal to the dividing of
a circle with a degree of accuracy equal to any one except
yourself, (nor do I think I should be very far behind you) ;
and I shall solicit that practice, which alone can make me
quite your equal in the art. With many thanks for your
liberal communications upon this as well as other sub-
jects, I am, Dear Sir, your most sincere and obliged

To Mr Ed'.vard Trou^htoti. Thos. Jones.

A paper by the late Henry Cavendish, Esq. called
" An improvement in the manner of dividing Astronomi-
cal Instruments," was published in the second part of the
Phil. Trans, for 1809. Mr Cavendish introduces his im-
provement in the following words :

" The great inconvenience and difficulty in the com-
mon method of dividing, arises from the danger of bruis-
ing of the divisions, by putting the point of the compass
into them, and from the difficulty of placing that point
mid-way between two scratches very near together, with-
out its slipping towards one of them ; and it is this im-
perfection in the common process, which appears to have
deterred Mr Tioughton from using it, and tlierehy gave
rise to the ingenious method of dividing described in the
preceding part of this volume. This induced me to con-
sider, whether the above-mentioned inconvenience could

Vol. IX. Part II.

not be removed, by using a bcatn compass with only one
point, and a microscope instead of the other ; and I find
that in the following manner of proceeding, wc have no
need of ever setting the point of tlie conq)ass into a divi-
sion, and consequently tliat the great objection to the old
method of dividing is entirely done away."

To this end, Mr Cavendish proposes to have h frame
for supporting his beam compass, that shall rest upon the
circle to bo divided, and wliich, by bearing against the
edge of the latter, may be turned round without altering
its distance from the centre. The figure of this frame is
triangular, and nearly as large as the circle itself. One
of the angles is placed outwards, and the opposite side
forms a chord of about 150° to the circle. One end of
the beam compass is attached to the outer angle of the
frame by a vertical joint, round which it may be turned
from ene side to the other at pleasure ; and the joint must
be moveable in the direction of the radius, in order that
the beam may be adjusted so as to form the chords of
different arcs. At the opposite end of the beam is a fixed
point, wherewith faint arcs are to be cut across the line
of division, and with which the divisions themselves are
finally to be made. There should be a groove or slit cut
out all along the beam, in which a double microscope
with cross wires is to slide, and which may be fixed at
any required distance from the point. Two props, one to
the right and the other to the left, are to support the end
of the beam opposite to the joint in the two positions.

With this apparatus, Mr Cavendish shews how to per-
form the different operations required in graduating an
instrument, namely, to bisect, trisect, and quinquisect ;
but does not follow the subdivision through their repeated
courses.

In the bisection of an arc, the distance between the point
and the axis of the microscope, is to be taken as nearly as
may be to the chord of half the arc, and the joint adjusted,
so that the cross wires and point may both at the same
time coincide with the line of division. With the beam
to the right, by moving the frame upon the circle, the
wires of the microscope must be brought to coincide with
the point that marks the left boundary of the arc, and then
a faint mark across the line of division must be cut with
the point. The beam is next turned to the left, and the
point which bounds the arc on the right is, by turning the
frame, to be set to the microscope, and another mark across
the line made as before. It is evident, that if the open-
ing between the microscope and point was exactly equal
to the chord of half the arc, the two marks would coincide
upon the line of division ; hut if that opening was too great
or too little, the marks would cut each other without or
within the circle. But in neither of these cases would Mr
Cavendish put in a dot. Instead of which, when in sub-
sequent division these marks are to be used, as well as
when the final strokes are cut, he would place the wire of
the microscope by estimation in the middle between them,
where they cut the line of division.

In quinquisecting an arc, the opening being taken as
near as possible, equal to the chord of a fifth part of it,
bring the microscope to one extremity of the arc, and with
the point make a mark across the line ; liring the micros-
cope to the mark just made, and with the point make
another mark. Sec. until four are put in ; change the posi-
tion of tlie beam, and from tbe other extremity of the arc
set off four marks, as before. If the chord in the above
operation was not correctly taken, it is evident that there
will now be four doulile marks, and tlie spaces between
them equal to each other, and five times greater than the
error of the opening. The real point of quinquisection,
reckoning from one end of the arc or the other as the
5 X

834

GRADUATION.

opening, was + or — , will be -j, |, ^, and | of the space be-
tween tlieni ; and these Mr Ciiveiidish would also use by
estimation in the subsequent progress of the woik. Mis-
takes in making a wrons;j estimation of the spaces are to
be prevented, by makiiii^ proper marks upon the circle
opposite to tiiem. Mr Cavendish has given three different
ways of proceeding ; but that which we have described, is
the one which he himself thinks tlie best.

To give a general idea of Mr Cavendish's method was
all that we intended. To follow him through his whole
paper would be useless; for, notwithstanding that much
ingenuity is displayed in pointing out such errors as he
foresaw it would be liable to, and in contriving means to
obviate them, we consider it as altogether inconsistent with
practice, and inelegant in design.

Immediately after Mr Cavendish's paper, we find one
by Professor Lax of Cambridge, in the form of a letter to
Dr Maskelyne. It is entitled. On a method of examining
the Divisions of jlslronomicul histriunents.

The learned professor sees no reason why astronomers
should trust to the ability and integrity of artists, when,
by means of a proper apparatus, they have it in their own
power to examine and note the error of every division of
an instrument. Mr Lax is in possession of an altitude and
azimuth circle, of one foot ittdius, made by Mr Cary, and
it is to this instrument thai his examining apparatus is
adapted; but the computation of error is expressed m ge-
neral terms.

His apparatus consists of an arc fixed to the frame of
the instrument, exterior to, and concentric with, the circle,
and which stands still wjiile the circle is turned round.
The arc contains about 90", and a microscope, which
slides upon it from end to end, may be clamped to any
part of it. The microscope regards the divisions of the
circle, and is used in combination with one of the reading
micrometers : the former has an inclination of about 30°
to tlie latter, in order that both of them may be made to
coincide with one and the same division of the circle ; by
means of which contrivance, any opening between them
from 0 to 90° may be taken. Professor Lax finds the
error of the division 180° by help of the two reading mi-
crometers, exactly as Troughton did, but in every other
step the examinaiion is carried on in a way quite different
from that pursued by the artist.

The second step is performed when zero of the circle
is brought to one of the micrometers, and the microscope
fixed to the exterior arc at the division of 90", by bring-
ing in succession to the microscope the divisions 180°
270°, and 360°, and comparing the first arc of 90° with
the other three arcs of 90°, the difference of which having
been measured with the micrometer, and distinguished by
-1- or — , affords data for computing their respective errors.
In like manner, the first arc of 60" is to be measuied
against ah the other five arcs of 60°, precisely as the first
arc of 90° was measured against all the other arcs of 90°.
And again, the first arc of 45° is to be measured against
all the other seven arcs of 45°. So far the Professor pro-
ceeds before sunrise, in order to avoid the effect of expan-
sion ; the rest, on account of the small arcs that are used,
may be done at any time. The arc of 3i'° may now be
measured against every sHcceeding arc of 30°' in the first,
third, fourth, and sixth arcs of 60° ; and let the length be
dct'-rmined from a separate comparison with the arc of 60°
in which it is comprehended, and not from a general com-
parison with all the four. The arc of 15° must then be
measured against every succeeding arc of 15° in all the
arcs of 30°, except the second, fifth, eighth, and eleventh,
and the value of each deduced from a comparison with the
arc of 30° in which it is contained.

We will follow Professor Lax no farther in his ingeni-
ous and laborious examination ; suffice it to say, that, by
pursuing the same principle of comparing short arcs with
their multiples, he obtains the errors of every individual
division of his circle, down to the ten-minute spaces into
which it is graduated.

Mr Lax says, that with his microscopes and his circle
of one foot radius, he cannot commit an ei-ror greater than
ihiee quarters of a second in reading oil', and with this,
datum, and that of the number of times that some divisions
have been dependent upon previous examinations, he rec-
kons upon a possibility of error in extreme cases amount-
ing to 9". 63. This is a very large quantity: the truth how-
ever is, that the examiner not only under-rates the ability
and integrity of artists, but also the powers of his own
method. To make out the above quantity, Mr Lax is
obliged to suppose, that at every step he commits the
greatest possible error, and that, in every course, the error
lies in that direction which produces tlie greatest accumu-
lation. After the examinations have been completed, and
the calculations made, the Professor says:

" The time and labour required for this examination are
no doubt very considerable ; but it ought to be recollected,
that it will render any great degree of precision, in divi-
ding the instrument, totally unnecessaiy. Whoever, in-
deed, employs this method of examination, will be virtu-
ally the divider of his own instrument; and all he will ask
of the artist, is to make him a point about the end of every
five or ten minutes, whose distance from zero he will de-
termine for himself, and enter in his book, to be referred
to when wanted We may likewise observe, that, by this ex-
amination, we shall not only be secured against the errors
of division, but against those that arise from bad centring,
and from the imperfect figure of the circle, and whicii in
general, are of too great a magnitude to be neglected."

Now, the greatest part of all this is certainly very true;
yet we doubt if astronomers in general will not save them-
selves the expencc of the apparatus, and the trouble of
performing the work : and we think that they will con-
tinue, as heretofore, to demand of the artist the utmost ex-
ertion of his talents.

Professor Lax has shewn the analogy between his me-
thod of examination and that of observing by repetition, as
much practised abroad, which is but another way of re-
ducing the errors of dividing. As, however, things do not
easily get out of their usual course, we are of opinion, that
the paper under consideration will have no tendency to re-
lax tlie efforts of the artists of this island to approach the
point of truth, any more than the improvement of the art
of graduation will, upon the continent, supersede the use
of the repealing circle.

We are not satisfied with the inclining microscope. In or-
der that this should occasion no error, the plane which bears
the graduation should be almost a miracle of truth. Were
the microscope so fixed as to be capable of being inclined
as much the contrary way, the effect of parallax would be
contrary too; and if a succession of the same angle were
repeated in both positions of the microscope, an identity of
results woiild prove our doubts to be groundless, or a dis-
agreement b<:tween them siitw the thing we are afraid of.

In the second part of the Phil. Trans, for the year 1814?,
we meet with a p iper by Captain Kater : it is called, " An
Improved Method of dividing Astronomical Circles, and
other Instruments."

To give a ij;eaeral idea of this method, which is itself
ideal, is all that wc tliink necessary ; and with it, and a ge-
nera! remark or two, we shall close our article.

This method is extren-.ely like that of the Due de
Chaulnes : the chief difference between them isj tliat, io-

GRADUATION.

835

stead of tlie waxed pieces, Captain Katcr proposes to per-
form the work by means of two ))ieccs which arc to be
clair.ped upon the ciiclc to be !:;iMiluatcd, and adjusted to
their places each by two appropriate screws. He would
use three double microscopes, one plain with cross wires,
the other two with micrometers: they are to be applied to
an exterior arc exactly like that which Professor Lax used
in the examination of his circle. Captain Kater leaves tlic
iTiaiiner of fixin;:; the arc to the frame of the instrument to
the iny;enuity of llie artist, who may practise the nietiiod ;
a task by no means easy, considering the stability that
would be re(|uircd. The cutting-frame of Hindley is to be
used, which bein;^ pro)jerly placed at one extremity of the
exterior arc for tracing the divisions, the plain microscope
should be fixed over the tracer, and adjusted toa line drawn
wnh. it exterior to the circles which are to bound the length
of the divisions: this is called the line of verification. The
fixed microscopr not only regards this line and a dot upon
the cutting apparatus, but also assists the eye in tracing
the divisions. Tliis is altogether a good contrivance; for
by it the slal)ility of the several parts may be examined at
pleasure, and, if Jiecessaiy, rectified. The two microme-
ter microscopes arc also applied to the exterior arc, and
have a range upon it from contact toa distance of one-fifth
part of the circle. After being clumped, they have each
a screw-adjustment in the line of the radius, and the ad-
justment for the correct angular opening is found in the
micrometer wire.

Captain Kater would first divide the circle into five
equal parts, then trisect each of these, and then would per-
form another tnsection. This is not the course that an
artist would take: his instruments are to be read off at
opposite divisions, and he would not toil through the most
<lifficult part of the work without a trial. De Chaulnes,
in the first instance, bisected the circle, and whatever
course he afterwards followed, every division would have
its opposite; but C-aptain Kater's scheme admits of no op-
posites until his arcs of 8° are bisected. The Duke, in
every subdivision, left waxed pieces at every step of an in-
terval, which he could examine again and again, before he
cut the divisions. But Captain Kater, by using but two
adjustable pieces, deprives his method of that advantage;
for, in order to obtain a proper opening between the mi-
croscopes, the two pieces are set alternately in advance
of each other, and a blar.k space is left behind.

In all operations of this kind, tliere is a certain space
that one may either see or not see, and which Mr Lax, in
his circle of one foot radius, which is the same that Cap-
tain Kater proposes to divide, states to be three quarters
of a second. Now if, at the time that the opening of 72"
for quinquisecting the circle was adjusted, a succession of
five -f- errors to that amount were committed, the circle
would appear to be equally quinquisected, by an opening
of ".75 — its proper measure. And with this error of
opening in the similar operation for cutting the divisions,
let it be supposed, that at each step of shifuiig the adjus-
table pieces, a — error to the same amount were commit-
ted, then it is evident, that the division 288° would err by
a quantity 8 x " 75:3 6". This is Professor Lajv's way of
leckoning the amoi;nt of error, which is indeed too severe ;
but, in the case which we have exemplified, there is no-
thing improbable in the supposition, that the error might
amount to more than half that quantity, md yet neither the
apparatus nor artist be at all to blame. Captain Kater ob-
serves, that errors, if any, would be seen: Tiue ; but di-
visions have been ctit, and wii u is to be done with them .'
They are of course to be rubbed out, and a trial again
Blade, in hopes of better luck.

Besides this, the method before us is still farther very
ot)jectionable. A division, when cut, whatever its error
may be, communicates that eiror to others made from it,
through every course of subdivision ; anil thus the sins of
the fathers are visited upon the children down to the
seventh generation.

There is anollier thing that is not adverted to by Captain
Kater: no division can be viewed by the microscopes, to
any useful degree of accuracy, until the bur is polished
ofl'; and the frequent recourse that must be m -de to this
operation, which could not be done without carrying the
circle round, to get it out of the way of the apparatus,
would prove a source, not indeed of inaccuracy, but of
very much embarrassment and delay. It may be observed,
that the method of coaxing is fully as much liable to this
objection, and that Troughton's is the only one that is per-
fectly free from it.

Captain Kater's apparatus is the most complex, and, if
made, would be tlie most expensive, that has been either
used or proposed for graduating; and we should remark,
that the method would turn out to be extremely tedious.
The Captain expresses himself upon both these matters
as being of quite a different opinion; we are not surprised
at this, considering, as we do, how much faster the nimble
ideas of a speculator get on, than the fumbling fingers of
an artist.

The gentlemen graduators have one and all rejected the
maxim of Graham : they know that it is not geometrically
true, and to what extent it is practically so are perhaps in-
capable of judging. The bisection of an arc, as Graham
meant it to be understood, consisted in setting off the chord
of half that arc from left to right, and then from right to
left- It was a condition, that the points of the beam com-
pass should be so sharp, short, and strong, that they would
not be deflected towards the arc struck in the first position,
when that in the second was made, even were the distance
between the points somewhat erroneous; for, in this case,
the line of division would only be intersected by a broader
stroke, which would still occupy the mean distance. Gra-
ham would have said, that this kind of bisection continual-
ly halved the error; while that of the gentlemen, which he
would have denominated stepping with the chord of half
the arc, was continually extending it. As division by three,
five, &c. cannot be performed without stepping, Graham
pronounced them to be practically impossible.

It is our opinion, that the art of graduation is now in a
state not to be improved by any one who is not a practi-
tioner. Those who excel in the highest branch, are men
capable of thinking for themselves, and of course, for im-
provement, will naturally look inwards. On the other
hand, the effusions of gentleman can do no harm, for their
schemes will ever be inconsistent with practice. Should
they, which is possible, suggest an useful hint to the prac-
tical man, it ought to be accepted with gratitude; and, at
ar,y rate, their well-meant endeavours should be kin<lly re-
ceived. With this view before us, we thirik, that when
the real graduators of instruments shall be incorporated
into a society. Professor Lax should be chosen an elTicient
member; that Captain Katcr ought to be admitted an ho-
norary one; and that we ourselves, after all this, may look
up to the latter distinction.

GRAF TING. See Horticulture.

GRAIN See Agriculture and Corn Laws.

GR.AIIAM, James, Marquis of Monlrost;, an eminent
soldier in the reigns of Cliarles I. and C uiles II. and dis-
tinguished by his enterprises against tht-. Covenanters in
Scotland.

Having been treated with some disrespect by the King;,
5 N 2

836

GRAHAM.

Charles I. he was at fust attached to the cause of the Pres-
byterians, and supported them in their endeavours to se-
cure the civil and religious liberties of the nation. It has
been questioned, indeed, whether he was sincere in this at-
tachment ; and it must be owned, tliat, in the early part of
his life, his conduct had every mark of duplicity and per-
lidy. Even his panegyrists have allowed, that his inter-
course with the Presbyteiians was that of convenience, not
of inclination ; that he enrolled himself in their armies, and
held conlerences with tlieir divines, in wder to be admit-
ted into their secret counsels; and that, having obtained
the intelligence which he required, he made use of this
intelligence against the very party whose confidence he
had enjoyed. The facts are certainly strong. At one time
he was entrusted with u high military command among the
Covenanters, and actually passed the Tweed at the head
of their troops ; and the historian of England assures us,
that, at this very time, he had entered into a close cor-
respondence with the partizans of the king. At length,
after a course of perfidiousness, unworthy of his illustrious
birth, and, it must be acknowledged, altogether at variance
with his general character, which appears to have been
ti\at of manliness and heroism, he disclosed all he knew of
the purposes of the Presbyterians, and openly declared his
attachment to the royal cause. Such, however, was his va-
cillation, to give it no other name, tiiat Charles himself
was for some time unwilling to trust him ; but having suc-
ceeded in detaching the Hamiltons, who were his political
antagonists, from the confidence of the monarch, he rose in
the royal estimation, and was at length appointed lieu-
tenant-general of the king's forces in Scotland.

Yet he who deserted the cause of liberty and of true re-
ligion, and betrayed his countrymen, proved faithful to his
king. He had taken upon him, however, as Burnet ex-
presses it, the post of a hero too much. Witli very in-
adequate means, and relying chietly on his personal prow-
ess, he undertook to subdue the Presbyterians by force
of arms. And, at this time, the Presbyterians were not, in
strict language, a party in Scotland ; they constituted the
strength and the talent, the energy, physical and intellec-
tual, of nearly the whole nation ; they were united in the
cause of religion and of liberty, bound by a public and
solemn engagement to adhere to it with their fortunes and
their lives, supported by the English parliament, confident
in the purity of their intentions, and not without encou-
ragement from previous success. Yet while all this must
be allowed, the progress of Montrose, temporary and par-
tial as it was, may serve to shew howmuchmay beatchiev-
ed by the enterprise of one man's mind, and the effort of a
single arm.

ilis first concern was, to draw around him those of the
Scottish nobility, who were either rnore attached to the
king, or less intimately connected with the Presbyterians.
Among the persons of distinction who joined him on this
occiision, historians have not failed to mention the Lord
Napier of Merchieston, son of the celebrated inventor of
the logarithms; tlie Earl of Antrim, a nobleman of Scotch
extraction, and who brought into the field a body of the
Macdonalds who had served in Ireland, and the two sons of
the Marquis of Huntly. To these we might have added
the Marquis himself, the chieftain of the powerful clan of
the Gordons; but the Marquis had studied astrology, and
had learned from the stars, that neither the king, nor the
Hamiltons, nor Montrose should prosper. According to
Burnei he was naturally a gallant man, but the stars had so
subdued him, that he made a poor figure during the whole
course of these wars. Discouraging as the prospect ap-
peared, Montrose, or as he was usually called, " the Gra-

ham," was in haste to take the field. Joining himself to the
Macdonalds, and about eight hundred of the men of Alhol,
who had fiocked to his standard, he prepared, with incre-
dible activity and expedition, to attack the Lord Elcho, who
lay with a considerable body of troops in the neighbourhood
of Perth. No general, cither of ancient or of modern
times, was ever more rapid in his marches, or more fierce
in his onset, than the Marquis of Montrose. Though in-
ferior in numbers, destitute of cavalry and of artillery, and
so ill furnished with ammunition that he was obliged to
answer the discharges of the enemy by a volley of stones,
he assailed the Covenanters with such unexpected fury,
that he threw them into disordei-, pusht;d his advantage,
and gained the victory ; he himself combating with his.
broad-sword among the foremost of his troops, and ani-
mating them by his example. The slaughter of the Pres-
byterians was great, amounting, by some accounts, to two
thousand men ; and the town of Perth opened its gates to
Montrose, in consequence of the battle. On this occasion,
he had an opportunity of proving his clemency, a quality
which entered largely into the formation of his character,
and to which he made a consoling allusion when about to
prepare for the scaffold ; for he look possession of the town
without injuring its inhabitants, and restrained even the
Highlanders from their well known propensity to plunder.

But if the town of Perth experienced his clemency, he
let loose all the rage of predatory warfare upon the coun-
try of the Duke of Argyle and the estates of the Hamiltons;
the former, a leading man among the Presbyterians, and
the personal enemy of Montrose, and the latter his rivals
in the favour of the king. At the head of the Macdonalds
and the Irish, he attacked Argyleshire with the ferocity of
a Tartar, carrying off the cattle, in which the wealth of the
inhabitants consisted, burning the houses, and wherever he
met with opposition, putting men, women, and children to
the sword. His panegyrist Wishart informs us, and in-
forms us without apology or remorse, that he sent out his
troops " to' kill and to destroy." In these expeditions, the
life of " the Graham" was frequently in danger. He was
constrained to make very long and fatiguing marches, often
in the night and in the depth of winter, through a moun-
tainous and pathless district ; and he was opposed by the
Campbells, the hereditary enemies of his name, warm from
the effects of recent aggression, and equally active and re-
vengeful with the other clans of the north. These, how-
ever, were antagonists that might be encountered, or suf-
ferings that might be endured ; but the age was barbarous,
and he seems not to have perceived that he had tarnished
the lustre of his atchievements by the rapacity of a free-
booter. And what was still more to be regretted by the
royalists, he had suffered his numbers to be diminished
without rendering any essential or lasting service to the
cause of the king.

We must refer our readers to the author of the Memoirs
o/t/ie Afarcjuis of Montrose, for a particular account of his
expeditions and battles. Early in the spring of 1645, he
carried the town of Dundee by assault, and gave it up to
be plundered by his soldiers. In the same year he defeat-
ed Urrey at Auldcorne, and Baillie at Alford. But it was
at Kil'-,yth that he performed one of his greatest atchieve-
ments, and raised his cliaracler as a soldier. The battle of
Kilsyth was fought on the ISlh of August 1645. The
forces on both sides were nearly equal, but the character
of the troops was not exactly the same ; those of the Cove-
nanters being, for the most part, newly raised, while the
followers of'- the Graham" had been disciplined under his
immediate inspection, and accustomed to the field. The
Presbyterians were commanded by General Baillie, the

GU.UIAM.

837

same olTicer wlio, in tlie montli of July preceding, had been
constrained to yitld at Alf'uid ; and he was assisted, on this
occasion, by the Earls o( Crawford and Airly, Sir \Villiam
Murray of Biabo, Colonels Dyce and \Vallacc, and other
adlierents of the popular party. It is said that B.iillie was
displeased wiili the quality or the condition of liis troops,
and engaged with reluctance. The action commenced by
an attempt of the Covenanters to dislodge a small party,
vvhic;fi Montrose had stationed near some cottages in the
vicinity of Kilsyth ; but the assailants were very warmly
received, and at length driven back with considerable loss.
At this moment, a body of Higblanders, amounting to
1000 men, without waiting for orders, rushed furiously up-
on the Presbyterians ; these were supported by the Earl of
Airly, at the head of 2000 of the infantry, and three troops
of horse. The rest of the army imitated the example of
Airly and the Ogilvies ; the ranks of the Covenanters were
broken; no efl'ort of their generals could restore them to
order, and a complete rout ensued. Six thousand of the
Presbyterians fell in this memorable action ; and, in one
disastrous day, the cause of religion and of independence
was left without the aid of any regular army in Scotland.

After the victory at Kilsyth, Montrose appears to have
been elated beyond what we should have expected in so
great a commander, and certainly beyond the amount of the
essential and profitable service which he had performed.
Though he was not in possession of any of the strong holds,
or important passes, he wrote to the king as if the whole
country had submitted. In those days, both parties made
an indiscreet use of the language of scripture; and with
improprieties of this nature Montrose is justly chargeable,
as well as the chieftains of tlie covenant ; though, if we
were to consult the most popular history of the period, we
should be led to believe that the practice was peculiar to
the Presbyterians. He assured his Majesty that he had
over-run the country," from Dan even to Beershcba ;"and
prayed the king to come down, in the words of Joab, the
Hebrew leader, originally addressed to king David, " now
therefore gather the rest of the people together, and en-
camp against the city, and take it, lest I take the city, and
it be called after my name."

The fortunes of Montrose now began to decline. Hav-
ing advanced, upon some insufficient encouragement, to-
wards the English border, he attempted in vain to rouse
the Earls of Hume, Traquair, and Roxburgh, and to ani-
mate them in the royal cause. He was deserted likewise
by his own troops ; for the Highlanders, unaccustomed to a
protiacted course of military service, had retired to the
hills, in order to secure the plunder which they had ob-
tained. He was, moreover, extremely deficient in cavalry.
In these circumstances, " the Graham" was met by Les-
ly, the general of the Covenanters, who had been detached
from the army in England ; and at Philiphaugh, in Etlrick
Forest, the royalists were defeated in so tremendous and so
fatal an overtbrow, that they were never afteiwards able to
make head against their antagonists. Montrose, though
worsted in the issue, did every thing which experience
could suggest, or bravery could fulfil, but the assault of
Lesly's cavalry was not to be withstood. Some say that" the
Graham" had become careless, in consequence of his suc-
cess, and that he had allowed himself to be taken by surprise,
and perhaps he had dreamt of vanquishing the Covenanters
I)y what his followers were wont to call the terror of his
name. But whatever truth there may be in these surmises,
it is certain that he was compelled to fly with his broken
forces into the mountains, and to prepare with more leisure
than suited his character for new battles and enterprises.
His life was now little else than a series of misfortunes.

During the progress of the English parliament, he quitted
the kingdom ; and some time previous to the arrival of
Charles II. in Scotland, he made one other unsuccessful
attempt to restore the monarchy by force of arms.

Some prophet of the Royalists had assured him, (for the
Royalists had ihcir ])rophets as well as the Covenanters,)
that to liim, and to him alone, it was reserved to restore the
king's authority in all his dominions ; and he eagerly listen-
ed to an intimation which agreed so well with his enter-
prising genius. But, notwithstanding this augury, he was
defeated by Strachan, one of Lesly's captains, and taken
prisoner alter the battle, in the disguise of a peasant," hav-
ing thrown away his cloak and the star upon it."

The Covenanters made a rigorous use of the victory, and
treated their illustrious captive with a degree of insolence
which can find no other apology than the barbarism of the
period in which they lived, and the treacherous manner in
which he had deserted them. lie was brought to Edin-
burgh under every circumstance of elaborate indignity ;
and after a trial before the Scottish parliament, during
which he conducted himself with the utmost presence of
mind, and with a magnanimity which his enemies were
constrained to admire, he was sentenced to lose his life by
the hands of the public executioner; and with a lofty com-
posure, and using some pious ejaculations, he submitted to
his fate. Thus was closed, at the age of thirty-five, the
career of James Graham, Marquis of Montrose, a man un-
questionably of a most noble and heroic character, bold,
active, and for a time successful. All history unites in re-
cording his atchicvements, and in celebrating his valour :
but he was brave in the hour and in the tempest of the bat-
tle, rather than skilful in forming the plan of a campaign.
He took up arms against the Presbyterians, without a pru-
dent estimate of his means. And it may be doubted whe-
ther, with all his courage and all his activity, his exploits
were of any service to the cause of the king. It has been
said that he was no stranger to elegant literature ; but
while every one allows that the verses which he composed
on the evening before his death may be regarded as proofs
of the serenity of his mind, there are few who will be ready
to acknowledge them as a very favourable specimen of his
attainments in the poetical art. One foul spot remains up-
on his character ; he betrayed the cause of liberty, and the
friends of his early life ; if, indeed, it be not a fouler and
more indelible stain, that he continued through a series of
heroic endeavours, tlie champion of a cause which had for
its object to establish an unlimited power in the nation, and
to force, by a nulilary apostleship, an abhorred religion up-
on the acceptance of the Scottish people. See VVishart's
Memoirs of J\Iontrcse ; Hume's History of England, vol. x.
xi. ; Principal Baillie's iyf;rcrsaHi/./our?!a/*, vol. ii. ; Bur-
net's Own Time, vol. i. ; and Fox's History of the early fmrt
of the Reign of James II. (/;)

GRAHAM, John of Cuvebholse, Viscount Dundee,
a celebrated military character who flourished in the latter
part of the 17th century, was descended from the noble
family of Montrose in Scotland. Being of an ardent mind,
and animated from his earliest years by the study of the
poets and orators of antirpiity, as well as by the tradition-
ary songs of the Highland bards, he entered early on a
military life, and served in the Low Countries, against the
French, in the war of 1672. At the sanguinary battle of
Scnex, he was instrumental in savingthe Prince of Orange's
life, and he afterwards made application for the command
of one of the Scotch regiments in the Dutch service. The
request was premature, and was consequently declined by
the Prince of Orange, on which Dundee withdrew from
the Dutch service in disdain. Returning to Scotland, he

838

GRAHAM.

obtained a regiment from Charles II. and distinguished
himsell by liis services ns^aiiist the Covenanters. From
.Tiinies II. he obtained a title, and high command in the
army. HuvintT been accused of cruelly in his operations
against the Covenanters, lie pleaded in excuse, that " ter-
ror was true merry, if ii put an end to or prevented war."
It was after the flight of James II. and the consequent pro-
ceedings in Stolland, on the subject of his abdication, that
Dundee became chiefly conspicuous. From his cruelties
against the Presbyterians or Covenanters, in Scotland, "a
poor people, made desperate by the violence of their per-
secutors," he is siill spulicn of in the western counties un-
der the designation of the Bloody Ciaverliouse. In the
year 1579, he marched with a party of dragoons, in order
to disperse a meeting of the Covenanters, at Loudon-liill,
in .Ayrshire. It was a day of peculiar solemnity, wlien tiie
sacrament of the Lord's supper was to be administered ; a
great multitude, amounting, as Defoe assures us, to many
thousands, had assembled from the different parts of the
country ; and the people sat upon the ground, on the side
of a sleep hill, while one of their ministers preached to
them from a lillle tent placed at the bottom. As was usual
and necessary in those troublous limes, a considerable pro-
portion of the audience were piovided with arms. When
Claverhouse approached, these last willidrew to a short
distance from tlie body of the congregation, and wailed in
good order for the assault of llic king's troops. A close
and furious engagement took place at Drumclog; the tlra-
goons, advancing hastily, and without llie requisite pre-
cautions, were surprised when they found an enemy well
prepared to receive them; and the Covenanters, after
maintaining their position for a while, pressed forward
against the royal forces, and compelled tnem to retreat.
Claverhouse himself had his horse shot under him, and
escaped with dilTiculty. But the victory, which was far
from Vjeing decisive, was dearly bought on the part of the
Presbyterians. For soon after, being collected in greater
numbers, and joined by Hamilton of Preston, and other
gentlemen of the west, they ventured to oppose the king's
troops under the Duke of Monmouth, in the well-known
action at Bothwellbridgc. Previous to this action, how-
ever, dissensions had crept in among them ; they were
deficient likewise in the subordination and discipline,
without which it is impossible to resist the attack o! a
trained and constituted soldiery ; and in addition to all their
other wants, tliey were ill provided with arms, and especi-
ally with artillery. The consequence was, that the royal-
ists made themselves masters of the bridge at the very
first onset, and drove the Presbyterians before them with
a great and indiscriminate slaughter. It is true the Duke
alieaipted to restrain the fury of his troops; but the infe-
rior commanders, Linlithgow, Mar, Hume, and Claver-
house, disregarded the orders of their General, and shewed
no symptom either of pity or of remorse, in the pursuit
of tlie discomfited Presbyterians.

But the cruelties of Claverhouse did not terminate with
the battle of Bothwellbridge. What Burnet says of Dalziel
rsiay be affirmed of tliis commander, with equal, or perliaps
with greater, truth ; that he acted the Muscovite too grossly,
threatening to spit men and to roast them alive. A whole
year afler the battle was spent in attempting to discover
those who had been present at Bothwell, and in putting
them to death, or otherwise punishing them. Many were
slaugiiiered in cold blood ; many were shot, because tliey
would not acknowledge the rininff., (as the Covenanters

called il,), to be rebellion against the king ; not a few
were put to death upon their knees, d. claring that " tlicy
were no way concerned in the Bolhwell cfl'-iir, and recom-
mending their souls to the uierey of heaven. 'I'l ials, and
juries, and regular proof, were rejected as impediments
to the king's service. The pusuners were simply asked
whether they owned the rising at B<jtliwKll to be rebellion ;
and if they hesitated, or answered ambiguously, they were
instantly shot. Even the private soldieis were auihciised
to ask such questions, and to lidlict t^ie punishment. Chil-
dren were tortured in order to force them to discover where
their parents were concealed ; wives were constrained to
lead the soldiers to the retreats. where their husbands or
near relatives had taken refuge ; and young and tender
women were stript naked, and thrust out into the cold.
There being a great majori'y in the Scotch Convention on
the side of William, Dundee took tue determination of
withdrawing, and of exerting himself to serve the cause
of James in the field. He left Edinburgh with a troop of
50 horsemen, after in vain urging the Duke of Gordon to
accompany hiin to the Highlands, and raise his numerous
vassals in the cause of tne Stuarts.

In tlie beginning of May 1689, Dundee openly took up
arms in the neiglibourhood of Inverness, and exerted Him-
self with so niucli activity, that his force increased to 6000
men. As a descendant of the Marquis of Montrose, he
was the object of much attacinnent on the part of the
Highlanders, some of whom even forsook tiieir family-
leaders to fight under his orders. Knig William dispatch-
ed G'-ncral Mackay against him, at the head of a regular
force, and two months ivere passed in great impatience by
Dundee, in consequence of orders from King James not
to figiu until the arrival of a large force from Ireland.
During this interval, Dundee was obliged, from deficiency
of provisions, to shift his quarters continually, and he per-
formed very extraordinary marches. His men were ex-
posed to frequent privations, but disdained to complain,
when they saw their commander living on the same coarse
fare with themselves.* When he acted offensively, his
approach was so rapid, as generally to outrun the notice
of his movements; and in retreating, he was commonly
out of reach before the enemy was apprized of his inten-
tion. His followers were cjiiefly Highlanders from the in-
terior, and were extremely impaiient of delay in fighting.
It proved on all accounts matter of regret, as the reinforce-
ment from Ireland, on arriving at last in the end of June,
was found to consist of only five hundred raw and spiritless
recruits. General Mackay had now determined to march
through .A.thol, and attack the Castle of Blair, wiiich had
been taken by Dundee, and by him put into the hands of
one of James's adherents. Dundee, aware that ihe loss of
this ])lace would interrupt the communication between the
two (divisions of the Highlands, determmed to bring on the
long delayed conflict, and marched soutn wards with a force
considerably diminished, many of the Highlanders having
returned home to get in their fuel for the winter. In march-
ing northwards. General Mackay had to go through the
pass of Killicranke, a pass consisting of a road, where
lor two miles not more than six or eight men could, at that
time, go abreast. On the one hand are steep and rugged
mountains; on the other, a precipice banging over a deep
river. Dundee declined to occupy this pass, orio obstruct
the advance of tlie enemy, but determined to fight after
Mackay had reached the nortiicrn side, in tlie hope that he
might defeat him, and cut off his retreat by obstructing

* He was accustomed to march on f >ot with his men, at one time by the side of one cl.in, and afterwards by that of another, displaying
his knowledge of their geuealogieo, and reciting the deeds of their ancestors.

GRAHAM.

839

tlic pass. Mackay's army marched from Diinkeld in the
morning of the 16th of July; an.l after resting at the
mouth of the pass, marched through it about noon. Ar-
riving at the open ground on the firther side, they saw
Dundee's soldiers resting at a distance on the side of a
hill. Mackay drew up his men in order, and wished to
bring on the engagement without delay ; but Dundee,
knowing that niglit would be of advantage to the High-
landers, whether successful or defeated, delayed the at-
tack till half an hour before sunset. At that lime he made
his men rush down from their station, and begin the attack
in a series of small columns on tiie wings of the enemy,
on the calculation that this mode of onset was most likely
to bring on an action hand to hand, in which he was cer-
tain of the superiority of the Highlanders. Such had
been the disposition of the Maiquis of Montrose at the
battle of Alderne. Dundee's plan was completely suc-
cessful ; his columns piercing, though not without con-
siderable loss, through the opposing line in many places,
and taking the soldiers in the flank and rear, in a manner
wholly unexpected by regular troops. Of all iNlackay's
men, in number 5000, the centre only, consisting of a re-
giment and a half, retreated in good order. The rest fled
in confusion; and Dundee having mounted on horseback,
pushed forward to point out to his men the manner of cut-
ting off the retreat of the enemy at the mouth of the pass.
Perceiving in a little tiine that he had got ahead of his
followers, he stopped, and waved his arm in the air to make
them hasten their pace, pointing with his hand to the pass
as the object of their exertion. Bei.ig thus rendered con-
spicuous, he became an object of aim to some of the ene-
my's soldiers, and a musket ball found entrance beneath
his arm pit, in an opening of his armour, occasioned by
the elevation of his arm. He rode off the field, after de-
siring his misfortune to be concealed ; but no precautionary
orders could make up for his absence, as the Highlanders,
on falling in with the enemy's baggage, gave over the
pursuit, and betook themselves to plundering. The re-
mains of Mackay's army consequently effected their es-
cape, though with a loss of 2500 men. The loss of the
Highlanders was nearly 900. Many of the fugitives were
killed or taken by the Athol men, whom Dundee had the
day before ordered to be in readiness at the south-end of
the pass. Mackay, not daring to venture through it, took
liis course through the hills to the westward, whence
looking back, and seeing no regular pursuit, he said to
those around him, that he was sure the enemy had lost
their general. A similar observation was made by King
William, who hearing that the express sent to Edinburgh
with the account of the defeat had been detained a day on
the road, exclaimed, "then Dundee misst have fallen, for
otherwise he would have been at Edinburgh before the
express." Some days after, when William was urged to
send a strong detachment of troops to Scotland, he replied.
It is unnecessary ; the war has ended with Dundee's life."
After riding off the field, Dundee had still strength suffi-
cient to write an account of the action to King James. In
this dispatch, he anticipated a general insurrection in the
country in favour of the absent sovereign ; an attempt in
which Dundee might have obtained a degree of success
similar to the Marquis of Montrose, had he been spared
to follow up his victory. His wounds, howevei\ were mor-
tal, and he expired the next morning.

Though the Highland army was kept together, and
even descended during the ntxt two years into the lov/
country, nothing of imi)ortance was accomplished, and as
William had predicted, there was little difliciiity in con-
cluding a peace.

The estate of Lord Dundee was made over, after his
death, to the house of Douglas; and his widow marrying
again, and retiring to Holland, became, along with her
children, the victim of a dreadful misfortune ; the house
in which she resided at Utrecht falling suddenly in, and
oveiwhelining the whole family in a few moments. The
title of Dundee has not been revived since the death of
this distinguished commander.

See Wodrow's Hisiorij of the Church of Scjtlanil, vol.
ii. p. 1 ; Defoe's Memoirs, p. 197 ; Swift's Life of Captain
Creiffhlon, p. 298.

GRAHAME, James, best known as the author of the
Sabbath, was the son of Mr Thomas Grahame, a highly
respected wi-iter, or attorney, in Glasgow. He was born
on the 22d day of April 1765. The peculiar mildness,
and the religious cast of his character, and of his pursuits
in the latter part of his life, may be traced back to his
training in infancy and youth, by a father and mother who
were distinguished for their warm and enlightened attach-
ment to Christianity, and for their chastened cheerfulness
of temper and manners. Gialiame's minute and delicate
discernment of the beauties of nature, and his delight in
observing all those nicer shades, which are unnoticed save
by the contemplative eye and the feeling heart, probably
had their source in his holiday enjoyments on the pictur-
esque banks of the Cart. He and his elder brother were
accustomed to pass, at his lather's summer residence, in
this sweet retirement, those hours which are distinguish-
ed from all the otner hours of life, by admitting not only
of cessation from study, but of carelessness of the past
and future, mingled witli the gay and ever-varying illu-
sions of juvenile fancy. His education was begun at the
grammar school oi his native city, where he was dislin-
guisned more for piayt'ulnes, than' for brilliancy of talents;
and where ne evinced a disposition to frolicsome spright-
Uness, which gave little promise of the thoughtful and re-
tired character of his maid-ood. From the school, he pass-
ed to the univei-sity of Glasgow, whicn he attended for five
consecutive sessions, during the two labt of which he stu-
died the theory of law and government under the celebra-
ted Professor Millar, from whom he imbibed that enthu-
siastic love of freedom, and that warm attachment to the
constitution of his country, especially the popular part,
which lormed a distinguishing feature in his character
through life. This attachment to the cause of freedom,
induced him at first to take a warm interest in the success
of the French revolution, and led him at a later period of
his life, with lionourable consistency, to express his de-
testation of that spirit of aggrandisement, which marked
the conduct of too many of its abettors; and especially of
the military despot, who availed himself of the misfor-
tunes of the country that cherished him as her adopted
son, to destroy her liberties, and desolate the fairest por-
tion of Europe.

When the anxious period arrived, at which it was ne-
cessary for him to fix on a profession, Grahame would
have preferred the simple and unostentatious duties and
the humble emoluments of the Scottish church ; but he
suff'ered his own choice to be overru.ed by the persuasions
of his friends, who fancied that they could foresee or se-
cure more certain success for him in the law. After re-
ceiving some professional instiuction from his father at
Glasgow, he was indentured, in his twentieth year, as an
apprentice to his cousin Mr Lawrence Hill, writer to the
signet in Edinburgh, in 1784. It was about the time of
his passing writer to the signet in 1791, that he had the
misfortune to lose his fatfier; a misfortune which sunk
the more deeply into bis feeling heart, from the circuni»

840

GRAIIAIME.

stance of liis iibscncc on that occasion. The consolations
of rtlis^ion were at this time peculiarly salutary to his
wounded spirit, and his desire lor the clerical office re-
turned ; but he ai^ain yielded to the arguments of his
friends, who urged the obstacles that his age now present-
ed against his entering the Scottish church, in conse-
quence of the length of previous study required, a cir-
cumstance which also appeared to them a barrier to his
preferment in the church of England. He acted for some
years as a writer to the signet, and passed advocate in
1795. Though his ijrofcssional knowledge was extensive,
and his law papers were ably written, there were various
circumstances, which combined to prevent him from at-
taining a conspicuous station at the bar. Want of relish
for the minute and tedious details of the practice of the
law, and a bad state of hcaltli, were the principal obstacles ;
and probably these were the chief causes of his seeking
relief in poetical composition.

He was most happily married, in 1802, to Miss Graham,
the eldest daughter of Mr Graham, writer in Annan,
and town-clerk of that burgli ; and in the endearments of
domestic life, which no man could enjoy with a truer re-
lish, he found a never-failing solace amid the cares of bu-
siness, and the growing infirmities of his delicate constitu-
tion. In 1808, his declining health made him resolve to
retire from the bar, and at last to adopt the profession to
which his mind had adhered with constancy from his ear-
liest years. After some abortive attempts to obtain ordi-
nation in the English church, he was admitted to holy or-
ders by the Bishop of Norwich, in May 1809, and soon
entered on the curacy of Shipton, in Gloucestershire. He
found his new duties easy and pleasant ; but family i-casons
compelled him in a short time to abandon them, and return
to Scotland. After various changes, which are too unim-
portant to be recorded in a work of this nature, he was
finally settled in 1811, as curate of tlie parish of Sedge-
field, in the neighbourhood of the city of Durham. His
figure was tall, and his features striking, and his sermons,
if not animated, were interesting and earnestly impressive.
His benevolent and ardent concern for the poor and afflict-
ed of his flock, secured for him an interest in their hearts,
which, however, he was not to be permitted long to retain.
Severe headach, to which he had been occasionally sub-
ject from his early years, and which materially injured
his memory and other mental faculties, increased consider-
ably about this time ; and the disease had now made an
alarming progress, which was soon to rob his flock of their
pastor, his family of their best friend, and the world of a
poet, who combined the sublime chords of David's harp
with the simplest melody of the sylvan pipe. In August
181 1, he returned on a visit to Scotland ; and on the 14th
of September he expired, in the house of his elder brother
at Whitehill, near Glasgow, in his 47th year. His ashes
rest in the sepulchre of his fathers. His afflicted widow,
who was absent at the time of his death, and occupied with
ihe duties of her family, was little prepared for this severe
trial. She soon after fell into bad health, and died in the
year 1815, leaving a son and two daughters to bewail the
early loss of both their parents.

Kindness and sympathy for every thing that could feel,
were among the strongest characteristics of Grahame's
mind ; and those local attachments, perhaps we may call
them local prejudices, which find a place in every mind of
sensibility, were deeply rooted in his. We do not think it
Avill be necessary to apologize for mentioning, in a memoir
of this amiable man, a little trait which strongly marks
this feeling. When he was journeying on horseback to-
wards his native Scotland, he asked of a peasant the name

of a stream, wliich he associated with many tender recol-
lections of times gone by, merely that he might have the
delight to hear that name repeated in the native accent,
from which he had been lately estranged. One of the tcn-
derest passages in his Georgics, refers to this circum-
stance :

" How pleasant came thy nisliinjj, silver Tweed,

Upon my ear, when, after I'oamin^ 1**"^

In soTiUiern plains, I've reacli*d lliy lo\'eIy barik !

Flow bright, renowned Savk ! thy little stream,

Like ray of columned light chasing a shower.

Would cross my homeward path ; how sweet the sound,

When I, to hear the Doric tongue's reply.

Would ask thy well-known name '." Page 180.

Grahame was early addicted to versification ; but his
first acknowledged production from the press, was the oft
attempted theme of " Mary Queen of Scots," in the form
of a tragedy. This is a long and desultory drama, little
careful of Aristotle's unities, and is sprinkled with rather
too much of the Scottish phraseology ; yet it shews so
deep and genuine a sympathy, and so high an admiration
for the sufferings and virtues of the ill-fated queen, and
contains some such tender images, as to give it a claim on
the public attention, independently of its dramatic merit. It
has amused us to observe also, how his chivalrous enthu-
siasm and warm nationality seemed to have gained such an
ascendency over his mind, as to have made him forget the
political maxims which he had learned at Glasgow in the
school of Millar, as well as those anti-catholic feelings which
he had imbibed in his early years. This was a favourite pro-
duction with the author, but not with the public ; and he
republished it with very considerable alterations in a 12mo
edition of his poems, in two volumes, which appeared in
1807. His next considerable publication in the order of
time, and indeed the poem by which his fame is most like-
ly to be established, is " The Sabbath." The day of so-
lemn universal rest, presented peculiar attractions to a
soul feelingly alive to the beauties of nature, to the impul-
ses of benevolence, and to the sublime emotions of piety.
In Scotland especially, where the duties of that day are
still perhaps more decently and religiously observed than
in any other part of the Christian world ; where the pause
from painful toil and frivolous pleastire is more strik-
ing; and where even those who do not feel its purest joys,
partake by sympathy and association in its reflected influ-
ence ; the theme could scarcely fail to be a popular one.
In short, we are inclined to think, that the subject admits
of the highest poetical embellishments which language can
furnish, with the additional interest which trutli must al-
ways claim over fiction. The antiquity of the Sabbath ;
the authority by which it was appointed; the cause of its
institution, first as a memorial of the creation of the world,
or rather of that part of the system of the universe with
which we are connected, as proceeding from the hand of
the Almighty, and as leading us to acts of adoration and
praise; the manner in which it was solemnly enacted, amid
the stupendous displays of divine power on Mount Sinai ;
the jubilee, or year of deliverance, as connected with this
wonderful institution; then the change from the seventh
to the first day of the week, on account of the completion
of man's redemption, by the resurrection of Christ; and
lastly, its direct and indirect moral influence, its actual and
progressive benefits conferred on society, and the prospect
of the Sabbath of rest and joy in the realms of endless
blessedness ; — all these present a combination of giand and
affecting topics and images, which are worthy of the high-
est powers of the noblest poet, and which indeed render it
less difficult to find materials, than to select from the
abundance that presses on his attention. If Grahame has

GRAHAME.

841

not attempted to give that kind of unity to his subject of
which it would have admitted; if he contents himself with
a less ambitious flight, he has, at least, felt the inspiration
of his sacred theme, and, by a series of tender and affect-
ing pictures, simply and naturally combined, and derived
chiefly from the customs and history of his native land,
and from scriptural allusions and associations, has produc-
ed a work which renders his name conspicuous, not only
among the poets, hut among the benefactors of his country.

The " Sabbath Walks" and " Biblical Pictures," which
are added in the later editions of this poem, are quite in
unison with the spirit of the work ; and some of the latter
are so strikingly delineated, that a skilful painter might
easily give them life and figure, by translating with his
pencil the vivid and glowing descriptions of the poet's pen.

The next of Grahame's poems to be slightly noticed, is
his " British Gcorgics," a name which is too boldly chosen,
as it leads the mind to the most finished production of the
Mantuan Bard; and as it is in itself perhaps the least perfect
of the author's writings. When on a visit to a friend on
Tweedsidein 1797, he inserted a poetic sketch of the month
of April, under the signature of Matilda, in the Kelso Mail.
It was much admired, and was followed by the other months.
These sketches are preserved in his works, and there
can be little doubt that they gave him the idea of the Geor-
gics, which are only in fact the filling up of the outline,
and which afford theoretical and practical instruction to
the British husbandman, connected with the different months
of the year. An attentive reader will accordingly find in
this larger poem, which is also divided into twelve parts, a
frequent recurrence of the same thoughts and expressions
■which occur in the minor pieces. The Georgics, among
many prosaic passages, contain also a number of the finest
touches of fancy and of feeling, and some affecting allu-
sions to the state of the author's declining health. We are
not fond of didactic poetry, especially in blank verse ; metre
gives at least more entertainment to the ear, when the
tameness of the subject precludes the flights of imagina-
tion. And we apprehend that the beauties which are scat-
tered through this poem will hardly preserve it from ob-
livion.

The " Birds of Scotland," his next large poem, is a pro-
duction of very superior merit, in which the author de-
scribes with admirable skill and truth, the manners and
characters of the winged tenants of our woods and wilds.
With his exquisite descriptions are interspersed delinea-
tions of the scenes which they frequent, and fine allusions
to national character, and historical traditions. He has in-
deed succeeded in accomplishing the design which he pro-
proposed, of " pleasing the imagination, and warming tlie
heart." And he has done more ; for he has conveyed
much instruction in a most agreeable manner, and furnish-

ed us with new sources of delight in the enjoyment of the
cheap and innocent pleasures of nature.

Mr Grahame, whose soul always abhorred the traffic in
slaves, and who rejoiced with all good men in its abolition,
had the honour of contributing one of the three poems,
intended as a grand literary monument to this noblest tri-
umph of justice and humanity of which our age can boas*
The other two were furnished by Eliza Benger and Mont
gomery, and the whole was published by Bowyer of Pall-
Mall in 1809, with most splendid decorations. Mr Gra-
hame also wrote the " Siege of Copenhagen," and pub-
lished it with the sanction of his name, soon after the de-
tails of that expedition were received. It is a spirited lit-
tle poem, and contains some passages remarkable for beauty
and tenderness. It is written in metrical couplets.

Cowper is the poet whom Grahame most resembles, and
whom we believe he adopted as his model. Yet tliere are
striking diiferences between them, independently of the
preponderance of talent in favour of the former. Grahame
has more flat passages, — Cowper more rugged lines. Gra-
hame is minute in describing all that, in the range of na-
ture, strikes his fancy ; — Cowper, with an eye as poetical,
was more limited in his sphere of observation, and less
ambitious in the choice of his subjects. Cowper's reli-
gious views were inwrought and profound; — Grahame's
consoling and abiding, but by no means so deep. Gra-
hame feels and admires the simple and varied charms of
creation, and expatiates upon them with ever new delight ;
his forte is accurate description of nature in it simplest
forms; — Cowper hunts through the intricacies of the human
heart; his chief excellence consists in the faithful delineation
of the feelings and moral sympathies of the soul. Grahame
has more ornament ; — Cowper much greater extent and
variety of thought. In language they are both careless,
and in their measures often incorrect. But there is a grace
even in their negligence. To both the praise " above all
Roman fame" belongs, of rendering the powers of their
cultivated minds subservient to the promotion of the best
interests of morality and religion.

Those who only knew Grahame by his works, will form
their own estimate of his genius and worth. But his me-
mory will long be embalmed in the minds of those, who
had the good fortune to enjoy his personal acquaintance, or
his friendship. Never, perhaps, did a kinder and gentler
heart animate a human frame ; never did a man exist more
unwilling to give pain to any sentient being, or more desir-
ous of promoting the peace and happiness of all within the
sphere of his influence. His country will long cherish the re-
membrance of the author for the sake of his works ; while
his friends will, with fond and melancholy pleasure, che-
rish the effusions of his genius for the sake of the amiable
author. (/)

Vol. IX. Part II.

5 O

GENERAL EXPLANATION

OF THE

PLATES BELONGING TO VOLUME NINTH

OF THE

AMERICAN EDITION

OF TH£

NEW EDINBURGH ENCYCLOPJj:DIA.

PLATE CCLIV.

Fig. 1. to Fig. 6. Represent Dr Yules' View of the ger-
minating Seed and Embryo of Ferns.
Fig. 7. Represents a Transverse Section of the creeping
Stem of Asfiidiumjitix mas.

[a) Exterior cellular substance.
(6) The central cellular substance,
(c) The roots,
(f/) Central fasciculi.
Fig. 8. Longitudinal Section of the Stem o( Davai/ia Ca-

nariensis.
Fig. 9. Represents a pinnule oi jlthyrium Thelijpteris.
Fig. 10. Is a highly magnified view of a Capsule, with the
Yellow Globular Bodies, supposed to be male Or-
gans, by Schmidel and Hedvvig.
Fig. 11. Is a Capsule with its Ring beginning to burst

and eject the Seeds.
Fig. 12. Represents the DaneacEjE.

(a) Part of a Pinnule of Marattia Alata, magnified.
(6) Seed Vessel, also magnified,
^c) The half of the same, to shew the divisible
Septum.

Fig. 13. OSMUNDACE^.

(a) A pinnule of OsmunJa regalis, bearing the

capsules.
(6) A capsule magnified.
Fig. 14. PolypodiacEjE. The naked groups of capsules
in which the vascular fasciculi terminate, and the
vessels connected at the knobs, supposed by Bern-
hardi to be male organs.
Fig. 15 AspiDiACE^a;. (Kif/e Fig. 9.)

Fig. 16. ASI'LENIAC)-..*.
Fig. 17 BLElHNlDEiE.
Fig. 18. O-NOCLEACEiE.

Fig. 19. Pteiu&e^.
Fii;. 20. CyaiheacejE.

Fig. 21. 22. BOTRYCHIACE^,

PLATE CCLV.

Contains various Diagrams illustrative of the Doctrine of
Fluxions.

PLATE CCLVL

Contains various Diagrams illustrative of the Doctrine of
Fluxions.

PLATE CCLVII.
Contains Figures illustrative of the Article Fortification,

PLATE CCLVIII.
Contains Figures illustrative of the Article Fortification.^

PLATE CCLIX.

Contains Figures illustrative of the Article Fortification^

PLATE CCLX.

Fig. 1. Represents the Vitrified Fort on the Top of Dun-

crcich, in the County of Sutherland.
Fig. 2. Is a Plan of the Vitrified Fort on Knock Farril, in

Ross-shire.
Fig. 3. Is a Sketch of the Country about Duncreich.

PLATE CCLXL

Fig. 1. Represents the Claudea Ekgans of Lamouroux.

Fig. 2. Is a portion of the same magnified.

Fig. 3. Is a small portion of the same highly magnified,.

shewing the receptacles attached to the Nerve by

their two extremities.

50 2

844

EXPLANATION OF PLATES.

Fig. 4. Piece of Fucua vesiculosua, Lin. or Black Tang.
a, Receptacles. 6, Vesicles, or Air Bladders.

Fig. 5. Piece of Fucus nodoaua, or Yellow Tang, a, Re-
ceptacles. 6, Vesicles.

Fig. 6. Fragment oi Fucus sinuosua, with cilia or capsules,
containing Seeds, on the Margin and Mid Rib;
magnified.

Fig. 7. The same Fucus, with spherical Tubercles, im-
mersed in obovate processes, on different parts of the
Plant ; magnified. — From Turner.

Fig. 8. Fucus dentaiua, with lineari-lanceolate capsules ;
magnified.

Fig. 9. The same Fucus, with pedunculate capsules, of an
urceclate form ; magnified — From Turner.

Fig. 10. Fucus coccineus, with spherical capsules; magni-
fied.

Fig. 11. The same Plant, with lanceolate capsules; also
magnified.

PLATE CCLXn.

Fig. 1. Represents a Section and side Elevation of a Melt-
ing Furnace.

Fig. 2. Is a Plan of a Melting Furnace.

Fig. 3. Is a Section of a Furnace for Heating a Sand Bath.

Fig. 4. Is a Plan of a Furnace for Heating a Sand Bath.

Figs. 5. and 6. Are Sections of a Reverberatory Furnace.

Fig. 7. Is the Plan of a Revtrberatory Furnace.

Figs. 8. and 9. Are Sections of an Enamelling Furnace.

Figs, lo, 1 1, and 12. Contain a View and Section of a Muf-
fle Furnace, for producing very intense Heats.

Figs. 13, 14, 15, and 15. Represent Fire Tongs for diflerent
purposes.

PLATE CCLXIII.

Fig. 1. Represents Volta's Galvanic Pile.

Fig. 2. Is the form given to the Pile by Volta, when t!ic
number of Plates is consirierable

Fig. 3. Volta's Modification of the Galvanic Apparatus,
called the Courojine'des Tasses.

Fig. 4. Represents the Galvanic Trough, invented by Mr
Cruickshanks.

Fig. 5. Represents Mr Children's Battery, which is a com-
bination of the Trough with the Couronnc des Tasses.

Fig. 6. Is an Apparatus for collecting in separate Vessels
the Gases evolved from Water by the Galvanic ac-
tion.

Fig. 7. Is the Apparatus in which the above Gases are re-
converted into Water by the Electric Spark.

Fig. 8. Shews the Cups of Agate connected with Amian-
thus, and employed by Sir H. Davy in the decom-
position of water.

Fig. 9. Shews the Gold Cones employed by the same dis-
tinguished Chemist.

Fig. 10. Represents Sir H. Davy's Apparatus for decoin-
posing Salts, and transferring their constituents.

Fig. 11. Is a conibinaiion of three Vessels for the same
purpose.

Fig. 12. Is Sir II. Davy's Apparatus for taking the Galvanic
Spark in Gases.

Fig. 13. Is a similar Apparatus invented by Sir H. Davy,
to be employed over Mercury.

Fig. 14. Is one of the Wire Stands interposed between the
Plates in Figs. 15. 16, 17, 18.

Fig. 15. Represents the Galvanic Pile continuous, and in
its usual form.

Fig. 16. Is De Luc's first Dissection of the Pile.

Fig. 17. Is the second Dissection of the Pile.

Fig. 18. Is the third Dissection of the Pile.

Fig. 19. Represents De Luc's Galvanic Apparatus.

rig. 20. Represents the lower limbs of a Frog lying on a
Plate of .Metal.

Fig. 21. Is Dr Bostock's Numerical Illustration of the Ef-
fects of the Pile.

Fig. 22. Represents an Apparatus used by Mr Singers, in
order to disprove the hypothesis of Electric Ener-
gies. See Galvanism.

PLATE CCLXIV.

Fig. 1. Is a Plan and Section of the Furnace used in distil-
ling Coal for Gas Lights.

Fig. 2. Is a side Elevation of the same Furnace.

Fig. 3, Is a front Section of the Furnace.

Figs. 4, 5, and 6. Form a Plan of the whole Apparatus, as
shewn in Fig. 7.

Fig. 7. Is a front Elevation of the whole Apparatus, in-
cluding the Furnace and Gazometer.

Fig. 8. Represents the Method adopted to prevent any sud-
den Explosion of the Gas.

I'ig. 9. Shews a Cockspur Burner, with a spherical surface.

Fig. 10. Slicws one of the Argand Burners.

Fig. 11. and 12. Are a Plan and Section of the Jrgand
Burner.

Figs. A, B, and C. Represent the Retort with its separate
parts.

PLATE CCLXV.

Figs. 1. and 2. Are Diagrams for Illustrating the definition
of Terms in Geography.

Fig, 3. Is a Diagram for finding the extent of the visible
Horizon.

Fig. 4. Is the wooden Horizon of a Globe,

Fig. 5. Represents the Celestial Globe.

Fig. 6. Represents the Terrestrial Globe.

Fig. 7. Explains the method of forming the gores for
Globes.

Fig. 8. Is the Armillary Sphere.

Fig. 9. Shews the method of constructing lines of Chords,
Sines, Tangents, and Secants.

Fig. 10. Is the Gnomonic projection of the Polar Regions.

Fig. 11. Is the Orthographic projection of the Polar Re-
gions.

PLATE CCLXVI.

Fig. 1. Shews the method of projecting an Equatorial Map
orthographically.

Fig. 2. Shews the method of projecting a Polar Map stereo-
graphically.

Fig. 3. Is the method of projecting an Equatorial Map stc-
reographically.

Fig. 4. Shews another method of describing Meridians.

Fig. 5. Shews the method of projecting a Map in the hori-
zon of a given place.

Fig. 6. Is a convenient method of drawing the Meridians.

Fig. 7. and 8. Shew the method of projecting an Equatorial
Map on the Globular Projection.

Fig. 9. Represents the method of constructing Maps by
developement from the cone.

Fig. 10. Represents Flamstead's Projection, in its most ap-
proved form.

Fig. 11. Shews the method of constructing the Scale for
the above projection.

EXPLANATION OF PLATES.

845

PLATE CCLXVII.

Fig, 1. Shews tlic method of constructing Maps by dcve-
lopenient from the cylinder.

Fig. 2. Is a |)lain Chart constiucted on this principle.

Fig. 3. Explains the general principle of Mercator's Pro-
jection.

Fig. 4. Sliews the Method of constructing a Chart of the
World on Mercator's Projection.

Fig. 5. Shews the method of constructing a Chart of a por-
tion of the Earth's surface.

Fig. 6. Sliews the method of constructing Maps for small
portions of the Earth.

Fig. 7. Shews the two ways of representing Mountains upon
Maps.

PLATE CCLXVIIL

This Plate contains a Map of the Eastern and West-
ern Hemisphere, constructed on the Globular
Projection, as explained in Geogkaphy.

PLATE CCLXIX.

Is a Map of the World upon Mercator's Piojection,
constructed by the method explained in Gkogra-
PHY. In this Map we have represented the course
of the Trade Winds and Monsoons, and also the
dip and variation of the Needle in different parts
of the Earth's surface.

PLATE CCLXX.

Contains Diagrams for illustrating the principles
of Geometry.

PLATE CCLXXL

Contains Diagrams for illustrating the principles
of Geometry.

PLATE CCLXXIL

Contains Diagrams for illustrating the principles

of Geometry.

PLATE CCLXXin.

Contains Diagrams for illustrating the principles
of Geometry.

PLATE CCLXXIV.

Figs. 170 — 196. Diagrams for illustrating the principles

of Geometry.
Fig. 1. Represents one of Prince Rupert's Drops, with the

vacuities E, F.
Figs. 2, 3, 4. Represent the different Cleavages of these

Drops.
Fig. 5. Represents an Unannealed Glass Cup.

PLATE CCLXXV.

Fig. 1. Is a correct representation of a Bottle Glass-house
with the Men at Work.

Fig. 2. Represents a Crown Glass-house. The blowing
operation is shewn on the right hand of the Figure,
and the operation of I'lashing on the left hand.

Fig. 3. Represents a Flint Glass-house. The Annealing
Oven appears on the left hand of the Figure.

Fig. 4. Represents a specimen of Glass formed by the
agglutination of numerous glass fibres, arranged so
as to form I'egular figures. See Glass.

Fig. 5. Is the Section of a piece of Glass consisting of six
different layers, brought by Dr Brewster from the
Abbey of Konigsfeld in Switzerland.

Fig. 6. Represents the Patent Diamond, by which any per-
son may cut glass as well as the most experienced
Glazier.

Fig. 7. Shews the arrangement of the Pots in a Flint Glass
Furnace.

Fig. 8. Shews the arrangement of the Pots in a Crown
Glass Furnace.

Fig. 9. Represents the method of arranging the Pots in a
Bottle Glass Furnace.

PLATE CCLXXVI.

Figs. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Represent the various steps of the

process by which plates of broad or window Glass

are formed. See Glass.
Fig. 7. Is the shape into which Glass is blown before it is

rolled into table glass.
Fig. 8, 9, 10. Shew the different parts of the process of

forming the pear-shaped Glass into a cylinder.
Fig. 11. Is a section of the reverberatory furnace for fusing

the materials of plate Glass.
Fig. 12. 13. Shew a plan and section of the Furnace used

by the French in the manufacture of plate Glass.
Fig. 14. Is a Pair of Forceps for drawing the Cistern out

of the Furnace.
Fig. 15. Shews the Casting Table, upon which the fluid

Glass is rolled out into a flat Plate.
Fig. 15. Shews the Tongs for lifting up the cistern of fluid

Glass.
Fig. 17. Shews the method of suspending the Tongs.
Fig. 18. Is the Tool for shoving the Glass Plate from the

Casting Table into the Annealing Oven.

PLATE CCLXXVn.

Figs. 1 — 10. Are various Diagrams for illustrating the
use of the Reflecting Goniometer. See Goniome-
ter.

Fig. 1 1. Shews the Goniometer invented by the Rev. E. J.
Burrow.

Fig. 12. Illustrates the method of using it.

Fig. 13. Represents Dr Brewster's Goniometrical Teles-
cope.

Fig. 14. Explains the principle of that Instrument.

Fig. 15. Represents the Goniometrical iVIicroscope.

PLATE CCLXXVIII.

Fig. 1. Represents the Dividing Plate, from which the

divisions are transferred to Instrumeuts of a less

Radius.
Fig. 2. Is the Dividing Knife at full length, for cutting the

divisions.
Fig. 3. Represents the method of transferring the Divisions

from a pattern to any other Scale by means of the

Dividing Square.

846

EXPLANATION OF PLATES.

Fig. 4. Shews the Dividing Giiage, for tracing Parallel

Lines.
Fig. 5. Represents a pair of Spring Dividers.

PLATE CCLXXIX.

Fig. 1. Represents a Plan of the Dividing Engine, invented

and conslructed by Mr Edward Tioiightoii.
Fig. 2. Represents an Elevation of the same I'-iigine.
Fig. 3. Is a perspective view of the Apparatus for carrying

the Wheel forwards by the Screw.
Fig. 4. Shews the shape of the two pieces, for connecting

the Screw with the Copperplate.
Fig. 5. Represents part of the Engine Plate, with, the

Milled Head and Divided Micrometer.

PLATE CCLXXX.

Fig. 1. Is a Plan of Ramsden's straight line-dividing En-
gine.

Fig. 2. Is an Elevation of the same Engine.

Figs. 3, 4. See Description of Plate CCLXXXII. where
these Figures are contained.

Fig. 5. Is a Representation of the under side of the Plate
A, shewn in Fig. I.

PLATE CCLXXXI.

Fig. 7. Is a plan of the Apparatus used by Mr Ramsden
for making a Screw.

Fig. 8. Is an elevation of the same Apparatus.
Fig. 9. Is a section of the same Apparatus in the line BO,
Fig. 7.

PLATE CCLXXXIL

Fig: I. Represents Graham's method of graduating the
!z;ieat Quadrant lor the Greenwich Observatory.

Fig. 2. Represents Bird's method of graduating Astrono-
mical Instruments.

Fig. 3. Is a Section of Ramsden's Straight Line Engine on
the line ah, Fi^. 1, Plate CCLXXX.

Fig. 4. Is a Section of the same Engine on the line ef.

Fig. 6. Is a part of the same Machine described in Gra-
duation, page 81 1, col. 1.

PLATE CCLXXXIIL

Fig. 1. Is a Plan of the principal parts of the Apparatus
invented and used by Mr Edward Troughton, in
dividing the four feet Meridian Circle of Mr
Groombridge of Blackheath.

Fig. 2. Is an elevation of the same Apparatus.
' Fig. 3. Shews the Apparatus for making the Dots on the
Circle.

Fig. 4. Is the Arc of the Sector shewn in Fig. 5. magni-
fied.

Fig. 5. Represents Mr Troughton's Subdividing Sector.

Fig. 6. Shews the construction of the Microscopes.

Fig. 7. Represents the Lantern, by the light of Which all
the operation of dividing was conducted.

END OF VOLUME NINTH.

W. Brown, Printer, Pluladelpliia.

I II.ICICS.

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